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Leave it to a boy to make the Faerie Realms look like a dump.

Kiersten White

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Kiersten White
Age: 41
Born: 1983
Born: June 27
Author
Writer
Utah
United States
Kiersten Brazier
Realms
Boys
Leave
Look
Looks
Make
Like
Faerie
Dump

More quotes by Kiersten White

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Jack was balancing a spoon on his nose when I walked in. You, I said knocking it off his face. Me! He answered cheerfully.
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Faeries are unaffected by alcohol, but much to her surprise—and the faeries’ undoing—they get very, very drunk on carbonation. Using copious amounts of Coke, she was able to discover a single faerie’s true name.
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Told you I was going to mess up your make up, he said, a smug grin on his face.
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Sometimes I wanted to take a memory - one perfect memory - curl up in it, and go to sleep.
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It's a good thing we're pretty to look at, I said as Lend sat down on the orange plastic seats next to me. Because we don't have much else going for us as bowlers.
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Can I take a rain check? Weekends are busy for me. He shrugged, his perma smile back in all its dimpled glory. You'd probably figure out a way to nearly get killed, anyway.
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Say what you will about zombies and their hygeine issues,at least they kill you fast.College acceptance boards? They like to draw out the torment as long as possible.
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Now, now, you aren't afraid of monsters in the dark, are you? I caught a flash of her eyes, winking wickedly at me. No, I said, shivering. After all, I was one of them.
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Bleep if I was going to stage a rescue in a freaking pantsuit.
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He's just a little unbalanced and lonely. He put his arms around my waist, frowning. Can't he be lonely and unbalanced around someone else's girlfriend? I'll suggest it.
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Well, that’s interesting,” I said. “What’s interesting?” Jack called from the other room. “Something is interesting?” Lend shouted. “No! Nothing!
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Wake up,' a voice like water rippling over rocks whispered in my ear.
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Actually, you’re way off.” “Oh?” the guard asked. “Yup. She’s not a werewolf, she’s a chupacabra. Have you noticed a lot of missing goats lately?
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Eyes like streams of melting snow, cold with the things she does not know. Heaven above and Hell beneath, liquid flames to hide her grief. Death, death, death with no release. Death, death, death with no release.
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I'd tell him, though. Soon. Soonish. Eventually.
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Streams of melting snow.
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I so owed Arianna, that undead little genius.
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What’s the point in hating something if you aren’t proactive?
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And I’d choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.
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I let my face go blank and nodded slowly. Yes.The trolls.Back. With me. Cannot form.Complete sentences. I shook my head. Yeah,so not happening. He considered me,annoyed and at a loss for what to do next.I don't kill humans. Me niether!See,common ground already.
Kiersten White