“Guys can smell desperation. It triggers an instinct in them to run far and fast so they aren't around when a woman starts peeling apart her heart. ”

“So who told you that you had a chip on your shoulder?""Never mind." I shoved a piece of lasagna int my mouth so I couldn't answer."It was a cute guy, wasn't it?" Kelly said. "Those types pf statements only bother you if cute guys say them."I didn't answer, and I didn't look at them."Must have been a really cute guy." Aleeta said.Kelly leaned forward. "Who was it, and do you like him?"I took another bite of lasagna."She likes him." Aleeta said with a smile."Ryan Geno?" Kelly asked. "Arnold Carrillo?""Colton Taft." Aleeta said as though sure she was right.Kelly nodded. "Which means we're really talking about Bryant, aren't we?"Aleeta leaned closer to the table and lowered her voice. "Charlotte likes Bryant?""No," I said quickly."No," Kelly repeated, "She doesn't like him, which is why Colton thinks she has a chip on her shoulder." She turned to me then, wearing a triumphant smile. "I'm right, aren't I?"I shuffled pieces of lasagna around my plate. "I should stop hanging out with smart people.”

“She cried so hard her tears formed a river, and tears of grief always run into the river Styx.”

“Many perfumes promise to lure men to women. None of them smell of motherhood. None of them proclaim the wearer to be tidy, thrifty, and sensible.”

“Still smiling, he leaned toward me. "You're jealous, aren't you?""Why would I be jealous of her?""Because she has what you don't.""Which would be what? A bad hairdresser, poor rhythm, or a striking lack of financial sense when it comes to buying clothes?"His smile grew. "Admit it, you're jealous.""I'm not jealous." I straightened the napkins into a tall stack. "Rich people are so arrogant. You all think everyone just sits around coveting your wealth. Well, my happiness isn't dependent on my account numbers."He gave a mock grunt. "I wasn't talking about Olivia's money. I was talking about me.""Oh." It was suddenly hard to breathe.”

“What was God thinking when he created a guy this handsome? He wasn't a gift to womankind, he was a torture device.”

“Madame Bellwings, Memoir Elf Coordinator, was not at all pleased with this request, because elves who write the memoirs of teenage girls have the habit of returning to the magical realm with atrocious grammar. They can't seem to shake the phrases "watever" and "no way," and they insert the word like into so many sentences that the other elves start slapping them...and for no apparent reason occasionally call out the name Edward Cullen.”