Stephanie Perkins Quotes
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It's ridiculous how difficult a question can be when the answer means so much.
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Umbrellas are so small and sad and easy to forget.
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So what do I wish for? Something I'm not sure I want? Someone I'm not sure I need? Or someone I know I can't have?
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I wish friends held hands more often, like the children I see on the streets sometimes. I'm not sure why we have to grow up and get embarrassed about it.
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Foreign novels are less action-oriented. They have a different pace; they’re more reflective. They challenge us to look for the story, find the story within the story.
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I've always thought the best relationships are those that are as happy and content in silence as they are in action [...]
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How many times can our emotions be tied to someone else's - be pulled and stretched and twisted - before they snap? Before they can never be mended again?
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I wish the world would swallow us here, whole, in this moment. And that's when it hits me that this - this - is falling in love.
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I'm not interested in making what's easy. I'm interested in making what's beautiful.
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I am hard on myself. But isn't it better to be honest about these things before someone else can use them against you? Before someone else can break your heart? Isn't it better to break it yourself?
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I pull back, gasping for breath. Reeling. His breath is ragged, and I place my hands on his cheeks to steady him. "Is this okay?" I whisper. "Are you okay?" His reply is anguished. Honest. "I love you."
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You read a lot. - Safer than going on a real adventure
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I wish for the thing that is best for me.
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Seriously, I don't know any American girl who can resist an English accent.
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What my parents never considered is that I just wanted a choice.
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I don't believe in fashion. I believe in costume. Life is too short to be same person every day.
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Boys turns girls into such idiots.
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How could I have ever for a moment believed I wasn't in love with him?
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Because that's the thing about depression. When I feel it deeply, I don't want to let it go. It becomes a comfort. I want to cloak myself under its heavy weight and breathe it into my lunges. I want to nurture it, grow it, cultivate it. It's mine. I want to check out with it, drift asleep wrapped in its arms and not wake up for a long, long time.
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Everyone makes mistakes. The important thing is to not make the same mistake twice.
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I don’t understand why things always go from perfect to weird with us. It’s like we’re incapable of normal human interaction.
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The more you know who you are, and what you want, the less you let things upset you.
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You ought to stop listening to stereotypes and start forming your own opinions.
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My smile wavers as I revert to my natural state of being: nervous and weird.
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Girl scouts didn't teach me what to do with emotionally unstable drunk boys.
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A blank canvas...has unlimited possibilities.
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For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.
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I know you aren't perfect. But it's a person's imperfections that make them perfect for someone else.
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Just because something isn't practical doesn't mean it's not worth creating. Sometimes beauty and real-life magic are enough.
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I didn't know it was possible to simultaneously hate and ache for someone.
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