For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.
The more you know who you are, and what you want, the less you let things upset you.
Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?
I'm saying I'm in love with you! I've been in love with you this whole bleeding year!
I look at you, and I think about you, and ... I don't know. No one has ever confounded me the way you do.
Yes, St. Claire. I like you. But I can't say it aloud, because he's my friend. And friends don't let other friends make drunken declarations and expect them to act upon them the next day
It's become impossible to deny he means something to me.
Life isn’t about what you get, it’s about what you DO with what you get.
French name, English accent, American school. Anna confused.
I mean, really. Who sends their kid to boarding school? It's so Hogwarts. Only mine doesn't have cute boy wizards or magic candy or flying lessons.
The only French word I know is oui, which means “yes,” and only recently did I learn it’s spelled o-u-i and not w-e-e.
St. Clair clears his throat. 'My fiancée and I are headed out for a celebratory dessert. I'd ask you all to join us, but I don't want you there.
What...what about when I'm married?” “We'll buy a cot. Your husband can sleep on that when he visits.
Har. Bloody. Har.
Cricket Bell.” I smiled into my phone. “How did you get so wise?
Phones are distracting. The internet is distracting.The way he looked at you? He wasn't distracted. He was consumed.
Welcome to Paris, Anna. I'm glad you've come.
You ought to stop listening to stereotypes and start forming your own opinions.