Becky Albertalli · 303 pages
Rating: (117.7K votes)
“Why is straight the default? Everyone should have to declare one way or another, and it shouldn't be this big awkward thing whether you're straight, gay, bi, or whatever. I'm just saying.”
“White shouldn't be the default any more than straight should be the default. There shouldn't even be a default.”
“What's a dementor?"
I mean, I can't even. "Nora, you are no longer my sister."
"So it's some Harry Potter thing," she says.”
“People really are like house with vast rooms and tiny windows. And maybe it's a good thing, the way we never stop surprising each other.”
“The way I feel about him is like a heartbeat -- soft and persistent, underlying everything.”
“He talked about the ocean between people. And how the whole point of everything is to find a shore worth swimming to.”
“But I'm tired of coming out. All I ever do is come out. I try not to change, but I keep changing, in all these tiny ways. I get a girlfriend. I have a beer. And every freaking time, I have to reintroduce myself to the universe all over again.”
“Sometimes it seems like everyone knows who I am except me.”
“It is definitely annoying that straight (and white, for that matter) is the default, and that the only people who have to think about their identity are the ones who don't fit that mold. Straight people really should have to come out, and the more awkward it is, the better. Awkwardness should be a requirement.”
“I mean, I feel secure in my masculinity, too. Being secure in you masculinity isn't the same as being straight.”
“I don't even know. I'm just so sick of straight people who can't get their shit together.”
“I’m too busy trying not to be in love with someone who isn’t real.”
“He tells me to pick the music. I’m not sure if he knows that handing me his iPod is like handing me the window to his soul.”
“I take a sip of my beer, and it's - I mean, it's just astonishingly disgusting. I don't think I was expecting it to taste like ice cream, but holy fucking hell. People lie and get fake IDs and sneak into bars, and for this? I honestly think I'd rather make out with Bieber. The dog. Or Justin.”
“And then I kiss him for real, and he kisses me back, and his hands fist my hair. And we're kissing like it's breathing. My stomach flutters wildly. And somehow we end up horizontal, his hands curved up around my back.
"I like this," I say, and my voice comes out breathless. "We should do this. Every day."
"Okay."
"Let's never do anything else. No school. No meals. No homework."
"I was going to ask you to see a movie," he says, smiling. When he smiles, I smile.
"No movies. I hate movies."
"Oh, really?"
"Really, really. Why would I want to watch other people kissing," I say, "when I could be kissing you?”
“Really, though, there are only two kinds of weather: hoodie weather and weather where you wear a hoodie anyway.”
“Did you just tell us you're gay?" Asks Nick
"Yes."
"Okay," he says. Abby swats him. "What?"
"That's all you're going to say? Okay?"
"He said not to make a big deal out of it," Nick says. "What am I supposed to say?"
"Say something supportive. I don't know. Or awkwardly hold his hand like I did. Anything"
Nick and I look at each other.
"I'm not holding your hand," I tell him, smiling a little.
"All right"--he nods--"but know that I would.”
“The closest thing I’ve ever had to a journal is probably you.”
“And you know what? You don’t get to say it’s not a big thing. This is a big fucking thing, okay? This was supposed to be—this is mine. I’m supposed to decide when and where and who knows and how I want to say it.”
“Nothing is worse than the secret humiliation of being insulted by proxy.”
“I fall a little bit in love with everyone.”
“People are shameless when it comes to cake. It's a beautiful thing to see.”
“There's something about you that makes me want to open up, and that's slightly terrifying to me.”
“Wow, is that Katniss making out with Yoda?”
“I try not to change, but I keep changing, in all these tiny ways...And every freaking time, I have to reintroduce myself to the universe all over again.”
“It feels like we’re the last survivors of a zombie apocalypse. Wonder Woman and a gay dementor. It doesn’t bode well for the survival of the species.”
“It's strange because in reality, I'm not the leading guy. Maybe I'm the best friend. I guess I didn't think of myself as interesting until I was interesting to Blue.”
“And this gay thing. It feels so big. It's almost insurmountable. I don't know how to tell them something like this and still come out of it feeling like Simon. Because if Leah and Nick don't recognize me, I don't even recognize myself anymore.”
“There are some socks that shouldn't be washed by your mom.”
“Anyway, we have something for you.”
“Is it another awkward anecdote about me breast-feeding?”
“Oh my God, you were all about the boob,” my dad says. “I can’t believe you turned out to be gay.”
“Hilarious, Dad.”
“All we are, all we can be, are the stories we tell. Long after we are gone, our words will be all that is left, and who is to say what really happened or even what reality is? Our stories, our fiction, our words will be as close to truth as can be. And no one can take that away from you.”
“What will happen at very low temperatures is indicated in Fig. 1-4: the molecules lock into a new pattern which is ice. This particular schematic diagram of ice is wrong because it is in two dimensions, but it is right qualitatively. The interesting point is that the material has a definite place for every atom, and you can easily appreciate that if somehow or other we were to hold all the atoms at one end of the drop in a certain arrangement, each atom in a certain place, then because of the structure of interconnections, which is rigid, the other end miles away (at our magnified scale) will have a definite location. So”
“Here is light. You will say that it is not a living entity, but you miss the point that it is more, not less. Without occupying space, it fills the universe. It nourishes everything, yet itself feeds upon destruction. We claim to control it, but does it not perhaps cultivate us as a source of food? May it not be that all wood grows so that it can be set ablaze, and that men and women are born to kindle them?”
“I can’t help feeling as if there’s something missing in my life. But I don’t know what it is. And the harder I look, the more I can’t find it because there’s just too much pressure and not enough time.”
“Hell won't be so bad, you know. After all, I'll be there to keep you company.”
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