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It didn't matter what you looked like. It was how you carried yourself, how you saw yourself.

Scott Westerfeld

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Scott Westerfeld
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: May 5
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Dallas
Texas
Scott David Westerfeld
Carried
Looked
Saws
Didn
Matter
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In a world of extreme beauty, anyone normal is ugly.
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People only worry about the uncanny for about a week that's the end of their attention span. After that, suspicions turn into shtick.
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You look beautiful - David
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Sooner or later usually means too late
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I go where the lizards tell me.
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Tally turned away. Five minutes was suddenly too long to stand here, eyes burning, unable to cry.
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You're insane! she shouted. Pretty cool, huh? No!Tally yelled. Why didn't you tell me it was broken? Shay shrugged. More fun that way? More fun? Her heart beating fast,her vision strangely clear. She was full of anger and relief and...joy. Well, kind of. But you suck!
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Come on, it's almost midnight. Let's go watch them cut the cake.
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Irony is always the best weapon against fascism.
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Did you really think I was too fragile to know what Deryn was? Fragile? Volger looked about. I hadn't thought so, but now I find you brooding in a bathroom. This doesn't speak well of your sturdiness.
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I guess sometimes you have to lie to find the truth.
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I kissed him once, she whispered. Well done. What did he do? Um... Deryn sighed. He woke up.
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Dude, I just watched you climb up a f*cking building!-Lace
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He squeezed her hand. Then I'll come get you, wherever you are when it happens. We'll be okay. But what about everybody else? He stared out across the river, nodding slowly. My guess is, everybody else is in big trouble.
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Surely no one would ever use such a weapon against a city. There are no limits in war, Volger said, still staring out the window.
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there was a beautiful princess with a prince kissing her lips only the prince was totally ugly
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With everything so perfect, reality seemed somehow fragile, as if the slightest interruption could imperil her pretty future... all of it felt as tenuous as a soap bubble, shivering and empty.
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Sometimes you can’t choose what you love.
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I like my first lines short and declarative. No complicated sentences. Of course, that's not really a Scott thing. It's pretty classic grab-the-reader technique.
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What did a happy ending even mean in real life, anyway? In stories you simply said, 'They lived happily ever after,' and that was it. But in real life people had to keep on living, day after day, year after year.
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