Fangirl

I don’t trust anybody. Not anybody. And the more that I care about someone, the more sure I am they’re going to get tired of me and take off.

In new situations, all the trickiest rules are the ones nobody bothers to explain to you. (And the ones you can't Google.)

To really be a nerd, she'd decided, you had to prefer fictional worlds to the real one.

Just... isn't giving up allowed sometimes? Isn't it okay to say, ‘This really hurts, so I’m going to stop trying’?” “It sets a dangerous precedent.” “For avoiding pain?” “For avoiding life.

Underneath this veneer of slightly crazy and mildly socially retarded, I'm a complete disaster.

You’ve read the books?” “I’ve seen the movies.” Cath rolled her eyes so hard, it hurt. (Actually.) (Maybe because she was still on the edge of tears. On the edge, period.) “So you haven’t read the books.” “I’m not really a book person.” “That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever said to me

Happily ever after, or even just together ever after, is not cheesy,” Wren said. “It’s the noblest, like, the most courageous thing two people can shoot for.

Real life was something happening in her peripheral vision.

I miss you." "That's stupid," she said. "I saw you this morning." "It's not the time," Levi said, and she could hear that he was smiling." It's the distance.

How do you not like the Internet? That's like saying, 'I don't like things that are convenient. And easy. I don't like having access to all of mankind's recorded discoveries at my fingertips. I don't like light. And knowledge.

I feel sorry for you, and I'm going to be your friend." "I don't want to be your friend," Cath said as sternly as she could. "I like that we're not friends." "Me, too. I'm sorry you ruined it by being so pathetic.

Reagan was sitting up at Cath's desk when Cath woke up. "Are you awake?" "Have you been watching me sleep?" "Yes, Bella. Are you awake?" "No.

You give away nice like it doesn't cost you anything.

You’re never going to find a guy who’s exactly like you—first of all, because that guy never leaves his dorm room.

That moment," she told Cath, "when you realize that a guy's looking at you differently—that you're taking up more space in his field of vision. That moment when you know he can't see past you anymore.

Sometimes writing is running downhill, your fingers jerking behind you on the keyboard the way your legs do when they can’t quite keep up with gravity.

No," Cath said, "Seriously. Look at you. You’ve got your shit together, you’re not scared of anything. I’m scared of everything. And I’m crazy. Like maybe you think I’m a little crazy, but I only ever let people see the tip of my crazy iceberg. Underneath this veneer of slightly crazy and socially inept, I’m a complete disaster.

But you're so helpless sometimes. It's like watching a kitten with its head trapped in a Kleenex box.

She smiled, and her eyes started to drift downward. "Cather..." Back up to his eyes. "You know that I'm falling in love with you, right?

It's okay if you're crazy," he said softly. "You don't even know-" "I don't have to know," he said. "I'm rooting for you.

I don’t just kiss people. Kisses aren’t... just with me.

It’s just... everything. There are too many people. And I don’t fit in. I don’t know how to be. Nothing that I’m good at is the sort of thing that matters there. Being smart doesn't matter—and being good with words. And when those things do matter, it’s only because people want something from me. Not because they want me.

Because I'm the kind of girl who fantasizes about being trapped in a library overnight.

Cath felt like she was swimming in words. Drowning in them, sometimes.

What's the plan?" she asked. He grinned. "My plan is to do things that make you want to hang out with me again tomorrow. What's your plan?" "I'm going to try not to make an ass of myself." He grinned. "So we're all set.

There are other people on the Internet. It's awesome. You get all the benefits of 'other people' without the body odor and the eye contact.

You look so blindingly cute right now, I feel like I need to make a pinhole in a piece of paper just to look at you.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow," he said.

That's the ultimate kind of broken. The kind of damage you never recover from.