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Von Loewe really should know me well enough by now to realize that I am not going to face my execution without a fight. Or with anything remotely resembling dignity.

Elizabeth Wein

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Elizabeth Wein
Anything
Execution
Wells
Dignity
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Realize
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Fight
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Realizing
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More quotes by Elizabeth Wein

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Maddie took the top of her egg off. The hot bright yolk was like summer sun breaking through cloud. The first daffodil in the snow. A gold sovereign wrapped in a white silk handkerchief. She dipped her spoon in it and licked it.
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You can come back to friendship. You can let it drop, for five years or ten years, and come back to it.
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Southampton's barrage balloons floated gleaming in the moonlight like the ghosts of elephants and hippos.
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We are a sensational team.
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Careless talk costs lives.
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It's impossible to stall a Lizzie.
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I think as readers we put ourselves in the protagonist's place because we want to be like that person. That's why sometimes we don't like protagonists who aren't all that nice we want to relate to the protagonist.
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A part of me will always be unflyable, stuck in the climb.
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Incredible what slender threads you begin to hang your hopes on.
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Five years of destruction and mayhem, lives lost everywhere, shortages of food and fuel and clothing - and the insane mind behind it just urges us all on and on to more destruction. And we all keep playing.
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There were no route maps posted on the walls, but a Wonderland-style sign commanding, 'If you know where you are, then please tell others.
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But a part of me lies buried in lace and roses on a riverbank in France-a part of me is broken off forever. A part of me will be unflyable, stuck in the climb.
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Hope is the most treacherous thing in the world. It lifts you and lets you plummet. But as long as you're being lifted you don't worry about plummeting.
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It's an illusion I've noticed before-- words on a page are like oxygen to a petrol engine, firing up ghosts. It only lasts while the words are in your head. After you put down the paper or pen, the pistons fall lifeless again.
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There’s glory and honour in being chosen. But not much room for free will
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Oh Julie, wouldn’t I know if you were dead? Wouldn’t I feel it happening, like a jolt of electricity to my heart?
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He just put his hand through the bulkhead, exactly as she'd done, and squeezed my shoulder. He has very strong fingers. And he kept his hand there the whole way home, even when he was reading the map and giving me headings. So I am not flying alone now after all.
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She whispered, 'C'etait la Verite?' Was that Verity? Or perhaps she just meant, Was that the truth? Was it true? Did any of it really happen? Were the last three hours real? 'Yes,' I whispered back. 'Oui. C'etait la verite.
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Don't know how I kept going. You just do. You have to, so you do.
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Please come back soon. The window is always open.
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