Lucy Christopher Quotes
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I was surprised at her gentleness, her willingness to give in.
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Who says I'm not Superman?" You were looking at me with one eye closed against the sun. I shrugged "You would have recued me by now if you were Superman." I said quietly. "Who says I haven't? " Anyone would say you haven't. Anyone's just looking at it wrong then." You pushed yourself up a little, onto your elbows."Anyways, I can't steal you and rescue you. That would give me multiple personalities." And you don't have them already?
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You saw me before I saw you. In the airport, that day in August, you had that look in your eyes, as though you wanted something from me, as though you’d wanted it for a long time. No one had ever looked at me like that before, with that kind of intensity. It unsettled me, surprised me, I guess. Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
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Right at that moment it was as if we were the only two people left in the world. And I don't mean that to sound corny; it just honestly did. The only sounds were the droning crickets and chip-chips of the bats, the farawy wind against the sand, and the occasional distant yowl of a dingo. There were no car horns.No trains. No jack-hammers. No lawnmowers No planes. No sirens. No alarms. No anything human. If you'd told me that you'd saved me from a nuclear holocaust, I might have believed you.
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It was like I existed in a kind of parallel universe, thinking thoughts and feelings that no one else understood.
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There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars.
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There is no need to put your heart in a bottle, then you will die. - Ty from Stolen
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I’d never seen a man cry before, only on TV. I’d never even seen Dad close to crying. Those tears looked so odd on you. It was like the strength of you just seemed to sap away. The surprise of it stopped me from being so scared.
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People love what they're used to, I guess." "No." You shook your head. "People should love what needs loving. That way they can save it.
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I thought you didn't want to let me go.
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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How long will you keep me?" I asked. You shrugged. "Forever, of course.
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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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I love you," you said, simple as anything.
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This be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
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In a moment, when I'm ready, I will turn off this computer and that will be it. This letter will be finished. A part of me doesn't want to stop writing to you, but I need to. For both of us.
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Your eyes were too intense to stare into for long.
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I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.
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I wrapped my arms around me as tightly as I could, and stared up at the stars. Had I not been so cold and wanting to escape so badly, I could have stared at them forever: They were amazingly beautiful, so dense and bright. My eyes could get lost up there if I left them looking long enough. [...] They swallowed me up. They were like a hundred thousand tiny candles, sending out hope.
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You moved my head so that it was lying in your lap. "Keep your eyes open," you said. "Stay with me." I tried. It felt like I was using every muscle in my face. But I did it. I saw you from upside down, your lips above my eyes and your eyes above my lips. "Talk to me," you said. My throat felt like it was closing up, as if my skin had swollen, making my throat a lump of solid flesh. I gripped your hand. "Keep watching me, then," you said. "Keep listening.
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One day they'll let you out of that dry, empty cell. You'll return to the Separates, and you'll feel the rain once more. And you'll grow straight, this time, toward this sunlight. I know you will.
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I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
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I could hear you, talking to the daffodils and tulips, whispering to the fairies that lived inside their petals. Each separate flower had a different family inside it.
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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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Nobody's bought this land. And no one's going to want it either. It's dying land, lonely land." "Like me, then," I said. "Yes, like you." You chewed the corner of your lip. "You both need saving.
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I remember the lights turning into blurs of blazing fire. I remember the air-conditioning chilling my arms. The smell of coffee smudging into the smell of eucalyptus.
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Then your fingers moved down to my chin. You pushed it up with your thumb to look at me, almost like you were studying me in the artificial lights above my head. And, I mean, you really looked at me … with eyes like two stars. [...] And I had wings fluttering away inside me all right. Big fat moth wings. You trapped me easily, drew me toward you like I was already in the net.
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Because it's magic, this place . . . beautiful. And you're beautiful . . . beautifully separate. It all fits.
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