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She leaned into my shoulder. Maybe you don't have to be a Caster to have power. I pushed her hair behind her ear. Maybe you just have to fall for one.

Kami Garcia

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Kami Garcia
Age: 52
Born: 1972
Born: March 25
Artist
Novelist
Teacher
Writer
Washington
District of Columbia
Power
Shoulder
Shoulders
Ears
Behinds
Behind
Hair
Caster
Maybe
Leaned
Fall
Pushed

More quotes by Kami Garcia

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I start with a beat sheet, which is more of an abbreviated outline. It hits all the major plot points. From there, I move to note cards. But the most important part of my process is my inspiration board.
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Ladies first. Why is it men only say that when it's something horrible or dangerous?
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We're gonna be late for English, and I gotta take these pantyhose off on the way. I'm gettin' a serious wedgie.
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Some things are private, Ethan. Even for grown-ups.
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And you couldn’t control who you loved, even if you wanted to. That had been Genevieve’s problem with Ethan Carter Wate. It had been Uncle Macon’s problem with Lila, Link’s with Ridley. Probably even Ridley’s with Link. Love was how all these knots started to unravel in the first place.
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Hey, Ethan. Yeah? Remember the Twinkie on the bus? The one I gave you in second grade, the day we met? The one you found on the floor and gave me without telling me? Nice. He grinned and shot the ball. It never really fell on the floor. I made that part up.
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In death, lie. In living, cry. Carry me home to remember to be remembered.
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Mortals. Everything is so black and white to you.
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I never loved you any more than I do, right this second. And I'll never love you any less than I do, right this second.
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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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So why did I think about her every second? Why was I so much happier the minute I saw her? I felt like maybe I knew the answer, but how could I be sure? I didn't know, and I didn't have any way to find out. Guys don't talk about stuff like that. We just lie under the pile of bricks.
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words same as always same as nothing when nothing is the same
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Because when every day is the End of Days, after a while they feel pretty much like every other day, even though you know that's crazy. And nothing is the same.
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We are given to the great, for great purpose, to great ends. We are given to the grave, for grave purposes, to grave ends.
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When she slept, she looked peaceful, beautiful. Not Lena's kind of beautiful, something different. She looked content - like a sunny day, a cold glass of milk, an unopened book before you cracked the binding.
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Are you kidding? I'm supposed to put my books in this filthy tin coffin?
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It almost felt like she was sucking it all out of me, like she sucked on that sticky red lollipop, the one she kept licking as she drove.
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It was all so clear now. Like everything had been lost in darkness, and then the sun came out. Some moments are like that.
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Books? Ridley looked disgusted. Carry?
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Who burns me and shocks me and shatters me with a single touch.
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