Jeff Kinney · 224 pages
Rating: (107.3K votes)
“You and your group of nerds fall into a pit and it's full of dynamite and you blow up. The End.”
“I don't know if this makes me a bad person or whatever, but it's hard for me to get interested in other people's vacations.”
“Youre gonna grow up and marry some ice cream! Haha!”
“Chirag: Rowley, do you think I exist?
Rowley: Nope! I can't even hear you or see you!”
“Most people don't seem to appreciate a person as honest as me. So don't ask me how George Washington ever got to be president.”
“After the presentations, we had to fill out these questionnaires. The first question was, 'Where do you see yourself in fifteen years?'
I know EXACTLY where I will be in fifteen years: in my pool, at my mansion, counting my money. But there weren't any check boxes for THAT option.”
“Well, for starters, Abraham Lincoln didn't write 'To Kill a Mockingbird.”
“It is impossible to say why we love something or someone. We can come up with reasons if we have to, but the important part happens in the dark, beyond our control. We just know when it is there. And when it goes away.”
“A footfall crunched behind him. He turned to see Reyna heading his way with the cat at her side. He grinned at them, and Reyna stopped short, glancing over her shoulder as if looking for the cause of his grin.
"Someone spike you prefight Gatorade?" she asked.
"No, I'm just happy to see -" He rocked back on his heels. "Happy to see the cat is still with you. Have you picked a name yet?"
"What are my options again?"
"Trjegul, Bygul, and Heyyu."
"Tree-gool and Bee-gool?" she said. "And Hey-yu?" She stopped. "Hey, you. Oh. Ha-ha. Leave comedy to the professionals, Thorsen."
He shrugged. "You could always ask the cat what her name is."
"Nope. I pick Trjegul." She looked down at the calico. "You're Trjegul now. Even if you're really Bygul."
The cat only blinked.
"So if I call you by your name, you'll come, right?"
Trjegul got up and wandered off in the other direction.
"Watch out or I'll trade you for a swan!" Reyna called after her. "A giant, killer stealth swan that eats ungrateful kitties for breakfast.”
“All the people who try to torment me, and who have now occupied the entire space around me, will quite gradually be thrust back by the beneficent passage of these days, without my having to help them even in the very least. And, as it will come about quite naturally, I can be weak and quiet and let everything happen to me, and yet everything must turn out well, through the sheer fact of the passing of days.”
“Can’t do this.” There were tears in her voice now, her throat clogged with emotion.”
“It turns out that universal music does exist, only it’s closer than we ever imagined, in our DNA.”
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