“Why does everyone worship them? I mean, they're beautiful but..." I shrugged. "Lots of people in this world are beautiful.""They're popular because they're cheerleaders," he said.I rolled my eyes. "What is it with this town and cheerleaders?”

“Write, write, write! Get your you-know-what in the chair and write more books: write the books of your heart and don’t let stress steal your joy.”

“I guess they're called moments because they don't last very long.”

“So their cheerleaders are ugly, their football players are wimps, and they're our archrivals because why?”

“They're called 'facts', and my role is to amplify those, not cheerlead. And I don't care at all what you think of my motives.”

“When I saw you on the stairs before, I’d forgotten how beautiful you are,’ he whispered against her skin.‘Spotty, not beautiful,’ she corrected gently, running her finger along his crooked nose. ‘Now you, you’re beautiful.’‘I even missed your inferiority complex.’ Max smiled and shifted against her.‘Not being inferior. It’s a point of fact. I’m covered in zits,’ Neve said and she didn’t know why she felt the need to share that with Max but then she was glad that she had because he was kissing each one of the angry red bumps along her forehead and chin and cheeks, even though a few of them were starting to suppurate. ‘Don’t do that, it’s completely unhygienic. Kiss my mouth instead.”

“I was rolling my eyes so hard that I was sure one of my retinas had just detached itself”