Lynn Movie Quotes

She’s not you.” “What?” “She. Isn’t. You.

Enemies-to-lovers—it’s our trope, Buxbaum.

I fell in love with teasing you in the second grade, when I first discovered that I could turn you cheeks pink with just a word. Then I fell in love with you.

You look best when you're you.

Sometimes we get so tied up in our idea of what we think we want that we miss out on the amazingness of what we could actually have.

Love is patient, love is kind, love means slowly losing your mind.

When I'm around you, I kind of feel like I'm on drugs. Not that I do drugs. Unless you do drugs, in which case, I do them all the time. All of them.

Music made everything better.

I did what I had to. All is fair in love and parking.

I’m confident enough in my masculinity and sexuality that I can say that Ryan Gosling is just dreamy in this movie.

Be brave enough to go big.

A girl will never forget the first boy she likes.” —He’s Just Not That into You “But she’ll also never forget the first boy she hates.” —Liz Buxbaum

Hey—don’t ditch me until I find Michael, okay?” “Call me ‘Wessy,’ and I totally won’t.” I snorted. “Fine. If you ditch me, Wessy, I will stab you with the keg tap.” “My little Libby is such a savage.

I am just Wes fucking Bennett, Lib, the guy who can't remember a single day in his life when he didn't love you.

I could say these unfiltered things to him because he didn’t care. Wes Bennett knew what a mess I was underneath it all, and there was a little bit of joy in knowing he saw the real me. Freedom.

In your dreams, Bennett,” she teased. “Every damn night, Buxbaum,

She’s pretty, but her face doesn’t transform into sunlight when she talks about music.” He did that clench thing with his jaw and said, “She’s funny, but not spit-out-your-drink-in-astonishment funny.” It felt like my heart was going to explode as his eyes moved down to my lips under the glow of the buzzing streetlight. He moved his face a little closer to mine, looked into my eyes, and rumbled, “And when I see her, I don’t feel like I have to talk to her or mess up her hair or do something—anything—to get her to swing that gaze on me.

because of things like car accidents and lost loves, life and death and broken hearts, we should grab every moment and absolutely devour the good parts.

Wes: Make sure you add “Someone Like You” to the Wes and Liz playlist.

Do you realize we could’ve been doing this for years if you weren’t such a pain in the ass?” “Nah—I didn’t like you until recently.” “Enemies-to-lovers—it’s our trope, Buxbaum.” “You poor, confused little love lover.” A giggle shimmied through me before I set my hands on his face and said as I pulled him back to me, “Just shut up and kiss me.

There was never anyone else for me but you.

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” —10 Things I Hate About You

I exist to exist alongside of you.

Please don’t ever become a stranger Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere—

My inheritance was the knowledge that love is always in the air, always a possibility, and always worth it.

You suppose? What on earth could she possibly be lacking? Do you want bigger boobs or something? Is she not—” “She’s not you.” “What?” “She. Isn’t. You.

When I brought my eyes back to his, I knew without a doubt that if we were anywhere else—alone—he would kiss me. He swallowed, and my eyes tracked down to his throat before slowly climbing back up by way of his strong chin, nose, and dark-as-night brown eyes. He raised one eyebrow, an unspoken question, and I realized at that moment that I wanted it. I wanted Wes. Michael had been my endgame, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about that anymore. I wouldn’t run through a train station for Michael. But I would do it for Wes. Holy shit.

So I was thinking we should skip tomorrow, stay right here and watch shitty movies all day." My first response was to say I couldn't skip a whole day's worth of classes, but as I met Cam's mischievous gaze, I said screw it. "That's a brilliant idea." "I know, right?" He tapped his head. "I'm full of great shit." "Yeah, you're definitely full of it..." "Ha.

What do you mean, not your type? Because he’s not some character who writes poetry and knows what your favorite flower is?

I can't talk to you when you're like this." "Happy? Excited? Hopeful?" "Delusional.

But just know that no matter what you decide, and no matter what happens, I will feel this way about you for the rest of my life.

You’re late.” “You’re stunning.” “You’re forgiven.” —Pretty Woman

So you think that two enemies—in the real world—can magically get over their differences and fall madly in love?

I fell in love with teasing you in the second grade, when I first discovered that I could turn your cheeks pink with just a word. Then I fell in love with you.

Charm and intrigue can only get you so far, Libby Loo. Those things always disappear, which is why you never, ever choose the bad boy.

You can’t wait 17 hours for me?’ ‘Buxbaum, I’ve waited my whole life for you.

There will never be anyone else for me. Hard stop. So go have your think and do what you need to do. But Lizzie--we are worth the risk. We always will be.

It’d been better than the movies, I swear to God.

My favorite thing about music—when you played it loud enough through good headphones (and I had the best)—was that it softened the edges of the world.

Me: Who cares about meteor showers? If you bring the cherry ciggies, I’m so there. Wes: You’re such a shit. See you there.

Her place in his heart was gone, and she only lived in his head now.

When I saw you get hit, I realized there isn't anything confusing about it at all. I love you. Of course I love you; you're Wes. You are the only boy I've ever loved in my entire life.

It was time to get Liz Buxbaum back.

Can you pretty please wear the Chucks?

I wouldn’t run through a train station for Michael. But I would do it for Wes.

Holy shit, Liz Buxbaum knows my scent.

Besides, what's more fun than a story that starts with a fake relationship?

I pulled back and let myself stare at his handsome face, at the person who had always been there for me, even when I hadn’t wanted him to be.

She's not you." "What?" "She. Isn't. You.

Why was I wasting my life trying to live up to the ridiculous expectations that I was setting for myself?

I can’t breathe without you, but I have to . . .

You’re the only thing I know like the back of my hand . . .

No one wore lovesick like my Libby.

The Notebook? You own The Notebook?" Cam stared at me blankly. "What's wrong with that?" "Oh, nothing is wrong with that. It's just such a...uh, chick flick." "I'm confident enough in my masculinity and sexuality that I can say that Ryan Gosling is just dreamy in this movie." My jaw hit the floor. The blank expression slipped away and he started laughing. "I'm joking. I don't own The Notebook. Never watched it. Didn't bring any romance movies.

Boy bands, fan fiction, soap operas, reality TV, most shows and movies with female main characters . . . We’re still so rarely front and center, even rarer when you consider race and sexuality, and then when we do get something that’s just for us, we’re made to feel bad for liking it. We can’t win.

Do you know how many 12:13s I've watched pass without you? Tonight it'll be the seven hundred and twentieth," I said, the words burning my throat. "The last thing in the world I want is to say something that makes that number infinite, but I also can't let you erase our history. I don't want to remember the bad parts, but I refuse to forget the good.

Before I could respond, Wes took a handful of my waistband and wrapped it around his hand, pulling it higher so my belly was entirely covered. “Liz’s clothes are falling off, so it’s time for us to leave.” I froze when I felt Wes’s hand on my skin. I looked at his face as he looked down at me, and I felt… off-kilter. I wasn’t sure if it was in response to his touch or his sudden cavemannish protectiveness. I also wasn’t sure why it wasn’t pissing me off.

He stayed silent through my entire breakdown, and once I stopped talking and started hiccupping embarrassing little sobs, he leaned forward and wiped my tears with his thumbs. “Don’t cry, Liz.” He looked sad when he said it, like he wanted to cry too. Then he said, “Wait here.” He gave me the One sec finger before turning and running into his house. I stood there, exhausted from the crying and shocked by his niceness, and when he came out his front door, he gave me a ten-dollar bill.

And you've screwed me up, Lib, because now I'm thinking in lyrics instead of original thoughts. I'm look at you and trying to find the words to convince you to be with me, and do you know what comes into you head? You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else. They aren't my words, I don't even know what song of album they're from, for God's sake, but it's exactly how I feel. And you taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else-like, I can't remember who wrote that, but I feel it down to the marrow in my bones. Being with you has changed the threads of my existence, I swear to God, so now being without you makes everything quieter, dimmer and duller. So. Much. Smaller.

You're looking at me like I'm nuts, honey, and you're right. I am. I am out of my mind when it comes to you." I said, shrugging because it was a fact. "When I'm near you, the way I feel steals the breath from my body. It's like I breathe for you. like I exists to exist alongside of you. I know those feelings are probably too big and too scary and put way too much pressure on you, and I'm sorry for that. Truly. But it's the way I feel. The way I've always felt.