“One thing I've learnt recently is that blowing out someone else's candle doesn't make yours shine any brighter.”
“Someone else's success is not your failure.”
“There's enough room for everyone to do the thing they're good at.”
“Why do boys think they can fight over someone like she's some kind of trophy?”
“Mind if I cut in?’ says the voice. An American voice. My heart flutters then starts beating wildly. It isn’t … It can’t be … But it is. It’s Noah Flynn.”
“Focus on your own lane, go at your own pace, don't look sideways. Someone else's success does not have to impact you or detract from what you achieve.”
“But I guess you never really know some people. Sometimes they can be wonderful; sometimes they can be the absolute worst. You just have to decide how much of either you can accept.”
“Maybe this whole growing-up thing isn't so bad after all.”
“Outside there's a chill in the air that reminds me autumn is on the way, even though it's still only September. This time of year is my absolute favourite; the leaves start to turn golden and wither away after their summer of hard work, and the sun seems to shine a lot more clearly as the mist from the summer heat disappears. Everything just seems a little brighter and fresher--a clean slate. That's exactly what I need.”
“There are a lot of maybes, but it's better than the nevers that were there before.”
“I die without seeing dawn's light shining on my country... You, who will see it, welcome it for me...don't forget those who fell during the nighttime.”
“The guy who was standing said, “We don’t want you here.” Reacher said, “You’re confusing me with someone who gives a shit what you want.”
“Get me into the game, Izzy," Cameron said when he reached Isabella at the edge of Hart’s well-groomed lawn. Pairs of ladies and gentlemen waited beyond, a few gentlemen swinging mallets and rolling shoulders to show off for the ladies.
Isabella turned to Cameron in surprise. "We’re playing croquet."
"Yes, I know what the devil it is. Give me a damned mallet."
"But you hate croquet." Isabella continued to blink green eyes at him.
"I don’t hate it today. I want you to pair me with Mrs. Douglas."
"Ah." Isabella’s surprised look turned to one of interest. "Mrs. Douglas, is it?”
“The townspeople thrived from these impermanent relationships, which were in their own way pure: the exchange of money for goods, a pleasant farewell, the assurance that neither party would see the other again. After all, what are most relationships in life but exactly this, though stretched flabbily over years and generations?”
“Who would be grateful for this? Two parents that don’t want you. All the money in the world, but no happiness?”
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