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Maybe Ridley was like chicken pox you could only catch it once.

Kami Garcia

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Kami Garcia
Age: 52
Born: 1972
Born: March 25
Artist
Novelist
Teacher
Writer
Washington
District of Columbia
Chicken
Chickens
Catch
Maybe
Like
Pox
Ridley

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Maybe there isn't a meaning to life. Maybe there's only a meaning to living.
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No, books. She would have maybe twenty going at a time, lying all over our house--on the kitchen table, by her bed, the bathroom, our car, her bags, a little stack at the edge of each stair. And she'd use anything she could find for a bookmark. My missing sock, an apple core, her reading glasses, another book, a fork.
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She was my destination. I was always on the way to Lena, even when I wasn't. Even when she wasn't on her way to me.
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It was crazy how a hearse and a pair of sneakers could cheer a guy up.
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Coming into your powers can be a very confusing time. Perhaps there is a book on the subject. If you like, we can go see Marian. Yeah, right. Choices and Changes. A Modern Girl's Guide to Casting. My Mom Wants to Kill Me: A Self-Help Book For Teens.
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My life had taken a stranger turn than I could've ever imagined. What was I doing on this path? Where was I headed really? Who was I to take on a battle between powers I didn't understand— armed with a runaway cat, a uniquely bad drummer, a pair of garden shears, and an Ovaltine-drinking teen Galileo? To save a girl who didn't want to be saved?
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So he's like a human compass? As far as superpowers go, that's pretty lame. You're like the Caster equivalent of Aquaman.
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Was it worth it? Feeling better for a minute or two, knowing that the cold would still be out there waiting?
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Old things are better than new things, because they've got stories in them, Ethan.
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Are you accusing me of reading? ~ Ridley
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And have her back by midnight. Is that some powerful Caster hour? No. It's her curfew.
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Lena's hair was sticking out in about fifteen directions, and her eyes were all small and puffy from crying. So this was what girls looked like in the morning. I had never seen one, not up close.
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red plastic rain her tears stain
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There are lots of things we choose not to see. Doesn't mean they aren't there, even if we wish they weren't.
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surrounded by strangers who love me (un)strangers made strange by pain
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Got it. Demon. Death. Doom.
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I hadn't fallen through his arms. He was ripped from mine.
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There is a point. I don't know what it is, but everything I've had, and everything I've lost, and everything I felt-it meant something. Maybe there isn't a meaning to life. Maybe there's only a meaning to living. That's what I've learned. That's what I'm going to be doing from now on. Living. And loving, as sappy as it sounds
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I had never been this mad at her before. It was one thing to be attacked by someone you hated, but this was something else. This was the kind of hurt that could only be inflicted by someone you loved, who you thought loved you. It was sort of like being stabbed from the inside out.
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I wanted to find a place to hide from all of it, where the nightmares and the rivers and reality couldn't find me. For me, that place was always inside a book.
Kami Garcia