Ilsa Quotes

The point is, Ilsa Hermann had decided to make suffering her triumph. When it refused to let go of her, she succumbed to it. She embraced it.

Love is a knife that cuts out your heart piece by piece, feeding it to the boy you love.

Some people think God puts difficult people in our lives for a reason, to make us better people as we sharpen ourselves on the knife of their shortcomings.

But this girl, she lived in a bubble, and seeing her out at a frat party was like spotting a unicorn.

His understanding of the theme of the book made me hot. Right then and there, I wanted to toss him down on the floor, crawl on top of him like the Jane Austen reader I was.

She was my queen and I wanted to be her king. I wanted to sit at the throne of her body and love her forever,

I came up for air. “It’s you, always you, my Mr. Darcy.” “I love you too, Elizabeth Bennett.

Clarity happens to all of us when our heart jumps ship, and mine was no different.

She was my queen and I wanted to be her king.

Big moments happen with the smallest actions, and sometimes it's not until later we connect the dots, but in that instant, I knew that somehow, someway Declan was going to own my heart.

Alright, the next pretty bird that walks through that door is up for grabs.

The thing to remember about a kick is you go for his twigs and berries" ~Declan~

I’d like to pet that jungle cat, rub his silky fur and make him purr … I slapped myself mentally. Jungle cat? Make him purr? What was wrong with me tonight?

As far as I knew, Nadia was still with her new guy, some fancy tennis player from Brazil. Donatello or Michelangelo or something. Ninja Turtle? Yeah.

I was putting my foot down with my new neighbor.

They call it the drowning instinct. It's when drowning doesn't look like drowning.

Behind every beautiful thing is a world of pain.

Follow your heart. Just don't get lost.

He was my Prince Charming, but I wasn't his Cinderella.

I can't forget the words you've never said.

This is a fairy tale with teeth and claws.

Obeying orders just to obey is the mark of a person who has ceased to think. Remember, it is better to suffer for doing what is right rather than for doing what is wrong.

But sticking to rules just because they're there does not make them right. You need to learn when the rules should be broken.

Sometimes I wish I had a lower IQ so I could enjoy your company.

What's the point of not taking chances? I don't know if I could stand living my whole life afraid.

Safe. That is a pretty word.

Why can't you like me?" he said, his voice breaking. His scent steamed then, hot and heady with a welter of contradictions: apples and fire and electric roil of those cold, black shadows. "Why can't you like me just a little?" She would never know how she might have answered, because he never gave her the chance. Instead, he kissed her.

No matter the road you take, it doesn’t matter if it’s beautiful or ugly, hard or smooth, paved or pitted with ruts—it’s your road to take. What matters is how it ends.

It was that stages-of-anger thing. I was shocked and then I got pissed and then I fought like hell … and then I went numb. They called it acceptance, but it wasn’t. It’s what happens when you have only two choices: live with the monster, or kill yourself.

I decided Conrad was right after all. Ilsa was meant to be with Laszlo. That was the way it was always supposed to end. Rick was nothing but a tiny piece of her past, a piece that she would always treasure, but that was all, because history is just that. History.

She's got the kind of ethereal, unselfconscious beauty some young girls possess that breaks your heart. Or theirs.

Everybody breaks sooner or later, Bob. Anyone can drown. Sometimes you see it. Most often, you don’t because the body protects and the skin hides, so drowning doesn’t look like drowning and some people scar so nicely. Take it from an expert.

Truth can be awful and even excruciating, but once it's released, it's like a bird that's been caged too long who finally flies to freedom. I felt a little like that. Free

We all have our fictions, little lies we tell ourselves to keep going from one day to the next.

Happiness. I believed few people ever achieved it.

I fucking hated pity. It was a wasted emotion.

Loving people hurt; losing them could destroy you.

Scars serve as medals of honor, and the strongest hearts have the most.

It’s my experience that a weakness understood is no weakness. If you know you have it, even if you can’t control it, you can make allowances for it. It is those who ignore or don’t understand their weaknesses who are wasted by them.

My English teacher said that a writer is the worst judge of his own work.

Sometimes you don't know what you need until it's gone

We were like matching bookends, almost touching but with volumes between us and stories, so many stories.

And please," Ilsa Hermann advised her, "don't punish yourself, like you said you would. Don't be like me, Liesel.

if love is the answer then I don't wanna ask the question

That´s the problem with the truth. Sometimes the truth is ambiguous, or really bad cliche.

So I need the story, Jenna. I need the truth. Right, like the two are the same thing.

No one can help but stare at the monster, because horror is a cousin to awe.

Why was he my Romeo, but I wasn't his Juliet?

Run, she told herself. Run, you idiot, run. But she didn't. She couldn't. She just... couldn't.

Those brain-zapped kids weren’t the only - or maybe even the worst - enemy.

It's the small moments that take your breath away and make you truly happy, like the first time you see your newborn's face or...or when you meet someone who could be your soulmate.

As it turned out, Ilsa Hermann not only gave Liesel Meminger a book that day. She also gave her a reason to spend time in the basement, her favorite place, first with Papa, then Max. She gave her a reason to write her own words, to see that words had also brought her to life. "Don't punish yourself", she heard her say again, but there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness, too. That was writing.

I didn't want to coast by anymore. I wanted some fucking happiness.

Sometimes, you just need a badass theme song to get you through the day.

No one saw me go. No one thinks to look for someone who's always there. - Ilsa

People will die," he echoed, thinking of Ilsa. Ilsa in her room, surrounded by stars. Ilsa in the Barren, surrounded by ghosts.

Don’t make it hard on me, please. Just, someday in the future, find me. Just find me and come up to me and tell me you still love me and want me and can’t live without me in your arms—

As the dog sprinted back, Jack said to the girl, "Sweetheart,honey, why do you have to be so hateful?" "Why not?" Ellie said. "It's not like being good ever got me anywhere.

Is it true that soulmates always end up together? I didn't think so, but I hoped that if there was such a thing as reincarnation, we would meet again in a another life and try again. If it was possible, I'd find him, for another chance at love.

Making something out of nothing made me feel like I was important, like I had value.

And like the missing chips in this china, pieces of my spirit were also gone, destroyed by people who claimed to love me.

I'm the only one for you, just me. You're my bad girl. No one else's.

My nana used to say that broken people love the hardest because they appreciate the things that make their heart beat. Do I make your heart beat?

Fuck Briarcrest Academy, and fuck you all.

As soon as forever is gone, I'll be over you.

I love how he laughs. It’s the color of the sun, soft and warm and golden.

Sometimes the loneliest place on earth is in the midst of a crowd

Falling for someone can be a lot like playing roulette. You don't know what will happen when you place that bet, but you can take a deep breath anyway and put all the chips out there. And when the ball spins around and around, you pray it lands on your number. Probability says you'll likely lose, and in this game of love with Leo, odds were I would lose, too, but I had to try.

I am a ghost in a land of phantoms and forgotten nightmares.

I'd like to sleep for a hundred years, wake up and try again. -Nora Blakely

The grief in her green eyes slips then hardens and, for an instant, Pendleton sees the woman she has become and has no right being, not at sixteen.

Everything breaks . . .

An unforgiving heart is like rat poison to the one who holds it. One of the nuns told me that once

I was just a simple, young girl whose love for a boy would last until the end of time.

You can’t go because I won’t get over you. I won’t ever find someone like you. I won’t ever kiss a girl like you. I love you.

Because if you can just hold off the moment when you must confront reality, time stands still and you can keep pretending that life will continue as you´ve known it: that nothing-not even something as wonderful and as terrible as love-has broken your world beyond repair.

Safe," she said with a hollow smile. "That is a pretty word." "Come on," snapped Kate beside the door. "But--" "Don't worry, August. I'm not afraid of the dark." Our sister has two sides. He took Ilsa's face in his hands. "Please be careful." They do not meet. "Go," she said. "Before the cracks catch up.

Why did I want her so fucking much? Why couldn't I push her away like I did everyone else? Why couldn't I breathe when I saw her?

The truth is, trying not to want her made me want her more.

Trouble at two o'clock. Evil bitch and copycat cohort arriving in three, two, one...annnd...they're here.

For that matter, my heart is broken. So maybe they´ĺl give me his. It´s something to shoot for. And maybe, in all that, Bob? There is forgiveness...

People drown, quietly, before our eyes, all the time.

When the heart sinks, people fall.

He closes his eyes briefly and looks as if he might say something, but he doesn't, and sometimes when people don't speak, they say everything , don't they?

What you couldn't see and only imagined was always scarier than what was real.

Your scars are beautiful. It means you survived. It means you’re here with me.” He kissed my wrist, light as a feather—and changed everything about us. “It’s my favorite part of you,

Leo, I know it’s unexplainable because I barely know you, but being with you makes me feel good inside and happy. I’ve never had that. When I see you, I feel like I’m home. Like we’re pieces of a puzzle that have finally come together. And . . . and I think being happy isn’t about the big moments, like when you graduate from college or get that job you’ve been wanting. It’s the small moments that take your breath away and make you truly happy, like the first time you see your newborn’s face or . . . or when you meet someone who could be your soulmate.

When Liesel left that day, she said something with great uneasiness. In translation, two giant words were struggled with, carried on her shoulder, and dropped as a bungling pair at Ilsa Hermann's feet. They fell off sideways as the girl veered with them and could no longer sustain their weight. Together, they sat on the floor, large and loud and clumsy. Two giant words...I'm sorry.

You don't want me, Nora. I'll fuck you, and when I'm done, I'll leave you.

The things you think about when you're a hair's breath away from getting yourself killed.

This...this means everything. We are everlasting. Fucking forever. I love you so much. Seeing my words for you on your body makes me insane for you.

Not everyone wears their scars on their skin.

Honestly, Bob: how do you carve a scream?

They call it the drowning instinct. It´s when drowning doesn´t look like drowning. In real life, if the water´s very cold, a person can´t help but gasp. It´s reflex. The thing is as soon as water hits your lungs, your throat closes off, even it the water´s warm. Your body´s trying to protect itself, and the reality is that a lot more people suffocate than truly drown. Regardless, to people on land, especially when you´re really close to the end, you don´t look like you´re in trouble. You don´t scream, but that´s because you can ´t, and you don´t wave your arms either or expend a lot of energy flailing. You´re just there. So people don´t notice that you´re drowning. That´s me. I think I´ve been drowning all this time and doing it so quietly, even I didn´t know it.

There are those individuals who die for a cause, and we say they have made the ultimate sacrifice. We call them martyrs, and we never doubt their sincerity. Yet many others search their entire lives for something—or someone—worth dying for and this is very different. These are the lonely and the desperate, fearful that their lives have no meaning. They yearn for the bullet, if only someone else will pull the trigger.

Ilsa approached the office of Dr. Dr. Bradford M. Bradford armed with her thesis. But she hesitated a moment before opening the outer door. Habit made her tremble before the awful majesty of the dean. Still, her recent adventures changed things. Had the dean ever hijacked a Spanish ship of the line? Run a British blockade at sea? Had he ever trudged over hill and dale to a Revolutionary army camp? Had he ever shaken hands with George Washington or flown a kite with Benjamin Franklin? Did he have an actual duke staying in his spare bedroom? She was pretty sure the dean would fail all these simple tests.

There are those individuals who die for a cause, and we say they have made the ultimate sacrifice. We call them martyrs, and we never doubt their sincerity. Yet many others search their entire lives for something—or someone—worth dying for and this is very different. These are the lonely and the desperate, fearful that their lives have no meaning. They yearn for the bullet, if only someone else will pull the trigger.

The tropical sun flickered between the swaying fronds of palm trees overhead. Ray and Ilsa rubbed their necks and blinked as they came out of their stupor. Their hair stood on end in frazzled locks, like quills upon the fretful porcupine. Their clothes were scorched, but they were alive. Or were they? Speechless, they gazed at their surroundings. Above them was an azure sky with fluffy clouds shaped like Spanish galleons sailing across a celestial sea. Birds chattered and sang in the foliage, which was fragrant and brilliant with blue, and pink and yellow flowers. Had they died? Was this heaven? Or, perish the thought, since obviously they were in the tropics, the other place?

Ray looked up and scanned Ilsa from North to South and then from East to West. It only took a moment. Ray was in love. Again. Probably. Conscious of his dashing Hispanic allure, Ray was always optimistic about his chances with the female sex. He had left a very long string of girlfriends in his wake, but there was something about this woman, who projected such shyness about her untapped feminine charms, that made his already active pulse race. Somehow he couldn’t help imagining her blundering into his bedroom at midnight wearing nothing but a towel. Those many affairs of the past, he told himself, were just steppingstones of his dead past on which he was rising to the discovery of his one, true love. And here she was. Probably.

As a doc, though, I've seen what happens when people are under a lot of stress. Doesn't always bring out their best. When people are scared, they get angry. They'll do things they never thought they would. They'll bargain and compromise in order to survive; they'll chase after miracle cures and believe just about anything so long as it gives them hope. When hope fails, then watch out. Some people get brutal. They'll turn on each other; they'll become their own worst enemies.