Quotes from Carrie Jones

Hate is a useless emotion.

There is something about libraries, old libraries, that makes them seem almost sacred. There's a smell of paper and must and binding stuff. It's like all the books are fighting against decay, against turning into dust, and at the same time fighting for attention.

She smirks."Are you attempting to stop me, little one?" "Excuse me? Did you just call me 'little one'? What are you? Like, four feet tall?" I ask.

Zara, sympathy is just a good excuse to buy greeting cards and make sorry eyes and secretly gloat over how glad you are that you aren't the person whose crap is hanging out for everyone to see.

Dimples crinkle up the skin near his lips. I will not look at his lips. How can he never have used those? That's a crime against humanity right there.

friends help friends fight pixies.

I swear his pheromones have my freaking name written on them. They hone in and attack.

There are so many layers inside of people, so much soul pain and angsty depth and heart hurt, and some ... hide all this so well that when it comes out in an action as simple as a nod, your entire world shifts a little bit on its axis.

Issie?" After a second her voice comes out small and tired. "I'm not here." "Oh." I back up so I can stare at the bathroom door. No feet. "Then I should probably freak out because the toilet is talking back to me, huh? A little too many pain meds for Zara today.

The only thing that scares me now is me. The [person] I might become. The [person] I dont ever want to be. Everybody has fears, right? But how many have my fear? Enough, it seems. Because there's a name for it. Autophobia. Fear of oneself.

We teleported," Issie finishes. "Like in Star Trek or Harry Potter, sort of. No! Like in Dr. Who in that episode with the Sontarans and the brilliant human boy, or really any Dr. Who ever if you think of the Tardis! Holy canola! That is just the coolest thing ever! Wowie, wow, wow!

You're pouting. Pouting is not allowed. It's too cute.

We are not defined by our species any more than our nationality or our gender. What we do , our choices, that's what defines us.

There are people who like cute, furry things and people who eat cute, furry things -Issy, pag. 53

You will be a great queen when you come back, you know. And someday you'll love me the way you love your wolf.

you have to face your fear.

no one can ever save someone else, you know? We can only save ourselves. You know that, don't you?

I stomp toward her and point. I've SO had it with her. "That is SO not nice." You don't even talk like a queen." She glares at me. Nick raises an eyebrow at me. "You're a QUEEN?" I walk to the edge of the bed, stand just a few inches away from her. Power rolls off of her. "Okay, please refrain from your insidious comments, which are obviously geared to inflict harm upon my psyche. I do not appreciate it." Nick cracks up. "Well, you ARE the same Zara.

we all need a little bit of rescuing from time to time. It doesn't make us weak.

Where'd the dog go?" I ask, sounding panicky. "That wasn't a dog, Zara," he says, words whisper strong. I jerk my head up. "What was it then? A cat? A gerbil? A geriatric hamster?

Pixies have to be invited in, like vampires. I read it on the Internet." "Well, there you go," I mutter. "Then it must be true.

That's what people who love you do: they hold you and lie. They tell you that you're worthy, that everything will be all right, and they do that even when you both know without a doubt that this is not true, that is it nowhere near the truth.

What I have learned lately is that people deal with death in all sorts of ways. Some of us fight against it, doing everything we can to make it not true. Some of us lose our selves to grief. Some of us lose ourselves to anger.

Issie asks, "Why iron?" Devyn goes into full geek mode and answers before I can, "Iron is one of the last elements that is created by stellar nucleosynthesis." I have no idea what he just said. Neither does anone else.