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Nothing makes me happy quite like a boatload of freshly fried fast food, smothered in good old MSG.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Makes
Smothered
Nothing
Crescendo
Good
Freshly
Like
Fried
Fast
Food
Quite
Happy
Boatload

More quotes by Becca Fitzpatrick

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She already has a car.” “A Ford. That’s like Toyota’s worst enemy.
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When I'm wasted, I can almost forget who I am, he said, his smile fading slightly. I know I'm still there, but only barely. It's a good place to be. He tipped back the thermos, eyes on the dark sea straight ahead
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This was it. Together. Forever. As we left it all behind, the sun warmed my back, lighting the way before us. I knew of no better omen.
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Nora: This is crazy. Patch: I'm crazy. About you.
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It will cost me a lot to send you with Scott wearing that dress but, just so you know: if you come with that dress slightly wrinkled,I will trace Scott, and when I find him, it's not gonna be pretty
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Angel... I don't think you understand the lengths I would go to if it means keeping you here with me.' -Patch (PG 262)
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...Good, because I need your help. Help is my middle name. I was pretty sure she'd already told me bad was her middle name, but I kept my opinion to myself.
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don't make me regret this I said, breathless. You haven't regretted me once. He kissed me, and I answered so hungrily I thought my lips would bruise. Patch&Nora ( p. 180)
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If I missed out on some really big action, I’m going to be royally pissed off!
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There's a disconnect between my mind and my heart, but I feel the truth. They say when people lose their vision, their hearing comes sharper. I've lost part of my memory but maybe my intuition is stronger.
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Killer skirt, deadly legs.
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I had fun last night, I told Patch, flicking off my chin strap and handing over my helmet. I'm officially on love with your sheets. That the only thing you're in love with? Nope. Your mattress, too. Some smile crept into Patch's eyes. My bed's an open invitation.
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Guess who has PE first hour? This is so unfair. I start the day off perspiring like an elephant in heat. Don't the people who make up our schedule understand body odor? Don't they understand frizzy hair? ~Vee
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He nuzzles my neck affectionately. I love you. I'm happier right now than I ever remember being.
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Before I could stop myself, I punched his arm. “Careful,” he said in a low voice. “They might think we’re flirting.
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I can't imagine why you're so interested. He shook his head. Interested? We're talking about you. I'm fascinated.
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I couldn't picture myself with a boyfriend, but if I had to, I envisioned a nice normal guy who turned in his math homework on time and maybe even played rec baseball.
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Rollover minutes don’t work with curfews.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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Hang on, did you just call me Angel? I asked. If I did? I don't like it. He grinned. It stays, Angel.
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Vee said, I'm trying to read the title he's holding…hang on…How to Be a Stalker. He is not checking out a book with that title. But I wasn't so sure. It's either that of How to Radiate Sexy Without Trying.
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