Ava Quotes

The truth is, honey, I've enjoyed my life. I've had a hell of a good time.

Just tell me one thing before you leave, Ava.” His voice prickles at my senses… His face is serious, but still stunning. “How loud do you think you’ll scream when I fuck you?

I think a lot of people want to be someone, but we are scared that if we try, we won't be as good as everyone imagines we could be.

Children betrayed their parents by becoming their own people.

You don’t have to work overtime to get people to love you, Ava. Love isn’t earned, it’s given.

Love makes us such fools.

And maybe what growing up really means is knowing that you don't have to be just a character, going whichever way the story says. It's knowing you could be the author instead.

Just because love don't look the way you think it should, don't mean you don't have it.

You can be noble and brave and beautiful and still find yourself falling.

Ava, the sexual tension batting between you and that man was so fucking super charged, even I was horny!

Ava, you should know that once I’ve had you, you’re mine.

Ava, why the fuck am I handcuffed to the bed?

When we are in love, we are both completely in danger and completely saved.

I know I wrote letters to people with no address on this earth, I know that you are dead. But I hear you. I hear all of you. We were here. Our lives matter.

Ava, you missed it when it happened so I’ll clue you in. Last night, around the time you fell asleep against me, you became mine.

But we aren't transparent. If we want someone to know us, we have to tell them stuff.

I loved you before, Ava. Let me love you still.

And that might just be the root of the problem: we're all afraid of each other, wings or no wings.

There's more to life than being a passenger.

I was a woman when it was convenient to blame me, and a girl when they wanted to use me.

Love, as most know, follows its own timeline. Disregarding our intentions or well rehearsed plans.

i love reading because it is fun

Truth is beautiful, no matter what the truth is. Even if it's scary or bad. It is beauty simply because it's true. And truth is bright. Truth makes you more you.

You think you know someone, but that person always changes, and you keep changing, too. I understood it suddenly, how that’s what being alive means. Our own invisible plates shifting inside of our bodies, beginning to align into the people we are going to become.

My beautiful girl. My defiant temptress. My lady. My angel. My Ava.

There are a lot of human experiences that challenge the limits of our language,” she said. “That’s one of the reasons that we have poetry.

Everything is so much more bearable with you around, Ava.

Why would you be given wings if you weren't meant to fly?

When I’m old and gray, I want to have a house by the sea. And paint. With a lot of wonderful chums, good music, and booze around. And a damn good kitchen to cook in.

Oh my goodness, Luke’s massaging your arm! Isn’t that sweet? Good Ava trilled in my ear. Jump him! Rip his pants off! Bad Ava shouted in my other ear.

She laughed for her wasted, difficult life that never had to be wasted or difficult in the first place.

You’ll always need me, Ava. I’m going to make sure of it. Now, let’s see if we can fuck some sense into you.

I found it ironic that I should be blessed with wings and yet feel so constrained, so trapped. It was because of my condition, I believe, that I noticed life's ironies a bit more often than the average person. I collected them: how love arrived when you least expected it, how someone who said he didn't want to hurt you eventually would.

That was the cruelest irony: the more you did to save yourself, the less you became a person worth saving.

What I told you about saving people isn't true. You might think it is, because you might want someone else to save you, or you might want to save someone so badly. But no one else can save you, not really. Not from yourself. [...] You fall asleep in the foothills, and the wolf comes down from the mountains. And you hope someone will wake you up. Or chase it off. Or shoot it dead. But when you realize that the wolf is inside you, that's when you know. You can't run from it. And no one who loves you can kill the wolf, because it's part of you. They see your face on it. And they won't fire the shot.

she walked like she belonged in a better world,

I need to have all of you, Ava. Say I can have all of you.” … “Take me.” I say quietly against his lips.’ “Oh, I will.

She spent her days trying to forget the sound of his voice, and her nights trying to remember.

I hate you,” I declared. “You don’t.” “I do.” “Okay, maybe whoever this new Ava is does but she’s a bitch and I don’t give a fuck if she hates me. The old Ava doesn’t hate me and she’s in there somewhere, I saw her five minutes ago and that’s who I'm keeping safe.

Sex isn't all that important, but it is when you love someone very much.

Where you're concerned, I'll try my best, Ava. I already told you, I've waited too long for you. You're my little piece of heaven. Nothing will rob you from me. Nothing.

How terrible, to navigate the world without a story to comfort you.

May, I love you with everything I am. For so long, I just wanted to be like you. But I had to figure out that I am someone too, and now I can carry you, your heart with mine, everywhere I go.

Nirvana means freedom. Freedom from suffering. I guess some people would say that death is just that. So, congratulations on being free, I guess. The rest of us are still here, grappling with all that's been torn up.

Ava's not my date. I came stag." "Stag. You. Why?" "So my date wouldn't get offended when I wanted to dance with you," he says.

Life’s too short, I’m through talkin’. This is happening, we both know it, we both feel it and you even admitted it. Ava Babe, stop fighting it.

I wish you could tell me where you are now. I mean, I know you’re dead, but I think there must be something in a human being that can’t just disappear. It’s dark out. You’re out there. Somewhere, somewhere. I’d like to let you in.

I mean, words can't be good enough for a lot of things. But, you know, I guess we have to try.

It's sad when everyone knows you, but no one knows you.

Do you feel that?’ He flattens my palms on his chest and holds them there firmly. ‘It was made to love you, Ava. For too long it was useless, redundant, not required. Now it’s gone into overdrive. It swells with happiness when I look at you. It splinters with pain when we fight. And it beats wildly when I make love to you. Maybe I go overboard with my love, but that’s never going to change. I’ll love you this fiercely until the day I die, baby. Children or not.

We must discuss, then, the relationship between women and water. When men fall into the sea, they drown. When women meet the water, they transform. It becomes vital to ask: is this a metamorphosis, or a homecoming?

We’re not conventional, baby. But we’re special. What we have is really special. You belong to me, and I belong to you. It just is. It’s not natural for us to be apart, Ava.

Watch your mouth,’ he cautions me. ‘I’ve told you before, Ava. I’ll do whatever it takes.’ ‘For what?’ My voice is barely a whisper. ‘To keep you

Sometimes when we say things, we hear silence. Or only echoes. Like screaming from inside. And that’s really lonely. But that only happens when we weren’t really listening. It means we weren’t ready to listen yet. Because every time we speak, there is a voice. There is the world that answers back.

He shakes his head. ‘You’re different. I told you, Ava, I’ll trample anyone who tries to get in my way. Even you.

I know that it can be hard to believe that someone loves you if you are afraid of being yourself, or if you are not exactly sure who you are. It can be hard to believe that someone won't leave.

The sex is just sex. I can't get close enough to you. The control is because I'm frightened to death that something will happen to you...that you'll be taken away from me. I've waited too long for you, Ava. I'll do anything to keep you safe. I've lived a life with little control or care. Believe me, I need you..please...please don't leave me.

So maybe when we can say things, when we can write the words, when we can express how it feels, we aren’t so helpless.

To many, I was myth incarnate, the embodiment of a most superb legend, a fairy tale. Some considered me a monster, a mutation. To my great misfortune, I was once mistaken for an angel. To my mother, I was everything. To my father, nothing at all. To my grandmother, I was a daily reminder of loves long lost. But I knew the truth—deep down, I always did. I was just a girl.

I think that by beauty, you don't just mean something that's pretty. You mean something that makes us human.

A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself - and especially to feel, or not to feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at any moment is fine with them. That's what real love amounts to -- letting a person be what he really is.

I will love you to ruination.

I've been thinking lately about immortality. What it means to be remembered, what I want to be remembered for, certain questions concerning memory and fame. I love watching old movies. I watch the faces of long-dead actors on the screen, and I think about how they'll never truly die. I know that's a cliché but it happens to be true. Not just the famous ones who everyone knows, the Clark Gables, the Ava Gardners, but the bit players, the maid carrying the tray, the butler, the cowboys in the bar, the third girl from the left in the nightclub. They're all immortal to me. First we only want to be seen, but once we're seen, that's not enough anymore. After that, we want to be remembered.

I wish to live to 150 years old, but the day I die, I wish it to be with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other.

When I lose my temper, honey, you can't find it any place.

Fate. As a child, that word was often my only companion. It whispered to me from dark corners during lonely nights. It was the song of the birds in spring and the call of the wind through bare branches on a cold winter afternoon. Fate. Both my anguish and my solace. My escort and my cage.

How could she just leave me here to live without her? I miss her so much. I love her. I want her to grow up and become who she was meant to be. I wanted her to grow up with me.

I demoted him from The Best Man Ever to just The Best Man I’d Ever Met. Superman would have charged out (hell, he’d have flown) to get Lois Lane cookies. I was pretty sure of it.

We do things sometimes because we feel so much inside of us, and we don’t notice how it affects somebody else.

Go fuck yourself," I replied, always the lady. "I'm staying here.

I feel like I am drowning in memories. Everything is too bright.

By this point Viviane Lavender had loved Jack Griffith for twelve years, which was far more than half of her life. If she thought of her love as a commodity and were to, say, eat it, it would fill 4,745 cherry pies. If she were to preserve it, she would need 23,725 glass jars and labels and a basement spanning the length of Pinnacle Lane. If she were to drink it, she'd drown.

The thing about traditions is that they hold up the shape of your memory.

That fact filled Gabe with so much hope that he grew another two inches just to have enough room to hold it all.

You learned right away that applause sounds like love.

To my mother, I was everything. To my father, nothing at all. To my grandmother, I was a daily reminder of loves long lost.

I will love you to ruination,” the Fairy King said, brushing a strand of golden hair from my cheek. “Yours or mine?” I asked. The Fairy King did not answer.

What are you gonna do?” I whispered. “I’m gonna do whatever I have to do to protect Luke while he does whatever the fuck he wants to do.

There was an intimacy to all violence, she supposed. The better you knew someone, the more terribly you could hurt them.

Did you pay for the repairs on my Range Rover?” I asked him. “Yeah.” “Why?” “Why not?” he answered. I felt my hold on my temper slip. “Luke, it’s my car.” “Ava, you’re my woman.” I ignored the melty feeling that gave me too. “So?” “So you’re my woman, I take care of you.” “Luke – “ “This isn’t up for discussion.” “It sure as hell is!” “I’m thinkin’, as payback for the hickey, I want you in that pink teddy thing tonight.” Was he for real? “Luke!” “Later.” Disconnect. Argh!

When Ava turned away, Jules leaned in and whispered, “He’s totally whipped. Watch.” She raised her voice to a panicked level. “Oh my God! Ava, are you bleeding?” Alex’s head snapped up. Less than five seconds later, he ended his call and crossed the room to a confused-looking Ava, whose hand froze halfway to the scones on the table. “I’m fine,” Ava said as Alex searched her for injuries. She glared at Jules. “What did I just say?” “I can’t help it.” Jules’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s so much fun. It’s like playing with a windup toy.” “Until the toy comes alive and kills you,” Stella murmured loud enough for everyone to hear. Alex stared at Jules with displeasure scrawled all over his face. His features were so perfect it was a little unnerving, like seeing a carefully sculpted statue come to life. Some people were into that, but I preferred men with a little more grit. Give me scars and a nose that was slightly crooked from being broken too many times over perfection. “Pray you and Ava stay friends forever,” Alex said, icy enough to elicit a rash of goosebumps on my arms.

Those born under Pacific Northwest skies are like daffodils: they can achieve beauty only after a long, cold sulk in the rain.

I think it’s like when you lose something so close to you, it’s like losing yourself. That’s why at the end, it’s hard for her to write even. She can hardly remember how. Because she barely knows what she is anymore.

If beauty is truth, and truth is beauty, they are defined by each other, so how do we know the meaning of either?

The universe is bigger than anything that can fit into your mind.

She found that she did not mind losing the previous moment, for this one was just as lovely.

God knows I've got so many frailties myself, I ought to be able to understand and forgive them in others. But I don't.

And that might just be the root of the problem: we’re all afraid of each other.

We are each weird in a different way, but together, that's actually normal.

It began as all things did: a girl on the shore, terrified and desirous.

My eldest sister was right; I would smile blithely if someone tried to saw off my leg. But no one ever told me I was allowed to scream

I grasped her chin and angled her face toward mine. “Tell me who or what I need to kill,” I growled. “What happened at your father’s house?” “I told you, nothing. It was just the lake.” Ava eked out a wobbly smile. “You can’t kill a lake.” “I’ll drain every fucking lake and ocean in the world if I have to.” A tiny crystal tear slipped from her eye. “Alex…” “I mean it.” I rubbed the tear away with my thumb. My heart raged in my chest, a snarling beast furious at the sight of her distress and the thought there was something in the world that would dare hurt her.

What are you and Henry going to do tonight anyway?" "My secret," I said, and when I walked around to see the look on her face, I rolled my eyes. "Not that. What are you and Xander going to do?" "That." She gave me an impish look, and I scowled. "What? I'm dead. It's not like it matters anymore.

You know when you think you know someone? More than anyone in the world? You know you know them, because you've seen them, like, for real. And then you reach out, and suddenly they are just... gone. You though you belonged together. You thought they were yours, but they're not. You want to protect them, but you can't.

The first of many autumn rains smelled smoky, like a doused campsite fire, as if the ground itself had been aflame during those hot summer months. It smelled like burnt piles of collected leaves, the cough of a newly revived chimney, roasted chestnuts, the scent of a man's hands after hours spent in a wood shop.

Maybe, in the final analysis, they saw me as something I wasn't and I tried to turn them into something they could never be. I loved them all but maybe I never understood any of them. I don't think they understood me.

I wish I had fought.” Effy surprised herself by saying it. The words had leaped out of her throat, unbidden. “I know I beat him in the end, but for so many years all I could do was run and hide. I just sat there and let the water pour in around me. I didn’t know that I could fight back. I didn’t know how to do anything but wait to drown.” “Oh no, Effy. That’s not what I meant at all. You don’t have to take up a sword. Survival is bravery, too.

When you have to face up to the fact that marriage to the man you love is really over, that's very tough, sheer agony. In that kind of harrowing situation, I always go away and cut myself off from the world. Also, I sober up immediately when there is genuine bad news in my life; I never face it with alcohol in my brain. I just rented a house in Palm Springs and sat there and just suffered for a couple of weeks. I suffered there until I was strong enough to face it.

Then I said, “Matt’s got a big mouth.” “They all got big mouths, girl, learn that quick. These boys talk more than a pack of women. I lost fifty bucks on you.” I was stunned speechless again, this time it didn’t last as long. “What?” “See, Lee nailed Indy the first night they were together. Not nailed her nailed her but she was in his bed. Eddie, with Jet, it took a few days. Hank and Roxie, like, a day. Vance, like three, but Jules was a virgin and he had to interrupt the festivities once to go out and shoot someone.” I was blinking rapidly and feeling kind of faint at the amount and sensitivity of information Shirleen was imparting, not to mention what it might mean to me. “So we had a pool. Everyone threw down money on when they thought Luke would nail you. Mace won five hundred dollars.” Ho-ly crap. “So,” she went on. “Did he nail you nail you or did you two just sleep?” For some reason, I answered her unbelievably nosy question. “We just slept.” “New pool!” she shouted.

I looked up at Lee when we stopped in front of Hector and informed him helpfully, “You might want to take your arm away. Blanca tells me Hector doesn’t like men touching me.” “Blanca told you that?” Lee asked, his smile (and arm) still firmly in place. “Yes. She’s known Hector, like, his whole life so I think she’s in the position to know.” Lee nodded, his smile somehow bigger like he was trying not to laugh then his eyes moved to Hector and he said, “I tried to stop it.” Hector looked at Lee then looked at me then he muttered, “Oh fuck.” “It was Ally’s idea,” Lee told Hector. “What was Ally’s idea?” Hector asked Lee. “It was not Ally’s idea!” I cried. “It wasn’t!” super-power-eared Ally yelled from the open back window of Lee’s Explorer. “It was Sadie’s idea. I just was offering moral support.” “Shut up, Ally!” Indy shouted out the open passenger side window. “I will not shut up! I’m not taking the fall for this one!” Ally shouted back. I turned to the car, dislodging Lee’s arm and lifted both my hands and pressed down. “No one’s going to take a fall. Everyone calm down. It’s all okay. It’s rock ‘n’ roll!” I screamed. “Righteous!” Ally screamed back. “Rock on, sister!” Indy screamed too. “It’s rock ‘n’ roll?” Lee asked, sounding as amused as he looked. “You all wanna quit screamin’ at three o’clock in the mornin’ in my fuckin’ neighborhood?” Hector suggested. Mm, well maybe we were being an eensy bit loud. “Time for beddie by,” I announced (sounding like Ralphie), got up on tiptoe, kissed Lee’s cheek (like Ralphie and Buddy would do to me), turned and gave Indy and Ally a double devil’s horns (like Ava taught me) and shouted, “Rock on!” They shouted back in unison, “Rock on!” “Christ,” Hector muttered.