Swear On This Life Renee Carlino Quotes

It’s like reading a good book. The kind where you don’t want to skip pages to see what happens at the end. Each moment is a story in itself.

It’s impossible to really hate someone if you don’t love them at least a little.

Isn’t it weird that we had nothing at the time … but somehow it felt like we had everything.

We can’t always control our circumstances, who our parents are, where we live, or how much money we make, but in those rare moments when we can shape our fate, when we do have the power to make our own happiness, we can’t be too scared to do it.

For my Em. Don’t wait this long. Come let me love you.

I thought loving someone meant letting go, but by the time I learned that loving someone means fighting for them too, it was too late.

This could be the best thing for us, after it stops being the worst.

Our story is great. Maybe not all the other shit, but the story of us is perfect, Em.

We can’t go backward. There are too many regrets. Please just move forward with me?

I love you, Emiline. I loved you before I even knew what it meant.

Having a bunch of shitty adults constantly letting you down really kills a kid's view of the world.

Jason Dean Colbertson, how’d you get so great?” There was silence. He kept his eyes closed and said, “You made me this way, Em.

the past would only fester and eat away at us if we tried to hold on to it too tightly.

You’re all I have left. You’re holding my whole world together, Em.

If you can surrender to the idea that there might be a plan, instead of reducing every magical moment to a coincidence, then love will find you.

You’re my best friend.” I said to him. “I’m so in love with you.” His eyes were pleading.

In real life we have a hard time recognizing serendipitous moments because we’re not making the story up as we go along. It’s not a lie—it’s really happening to us, and we have no idea how it will end. Some of us will look back on our lives and recall events that were a bit too perfect, but until you know the whole story, it’s impossible to see the universe at work, or even admit that there is something bigger than us, making sure everything that should happen does happen. If you can surrender to the idea that there might be a plan, instead of reducing every magical moment to a coincidence, then love will find you.

We didn’t know it at the time, but we were lovesick. Our innocence was beautiful, impossible to capture again, impossible to re-create.

There was nothing we could do; we were just a couple of powerless, poor kids, so desperate to find a way to be together.

Come let me love you.

it’s like reading a good book. The kind where you don’t want to skip pages to see what happens at the end. Each moment is a story in itself.

Sometimes people who love us make us do hard things because it’s what’s right.

I don’t know much about fate, but I know something brought me back there. Maybe I fought that force for too long, or maybe everything happened exactly the way it was supposed to. The

I swear on your life,

It was about you... what I wrote. It was all about you." His bottom lip began to quiver. "I know," I said, my voice shaky. I started to cry then. There was no holding back. "I loved it, every word. It was so beautiful.

... I realized that my father had learned something in his recovery that I still hadn't totally grasped: the past would only fester and eat away at us if we tried to hold on to it too tightly.

I love you, Emiline. I loved you before I even knew what it meant.” “I love you too, Jase…I’ll love you forever.” “Swear to me.” “I swear I want this.” He was staring right into my eyes. “Swear that you love me and trust me,” he said. I knew the feeling like my own name. “Jase…” I swallowed and then tears filled my eyes. “I swear to god on your life and my own that I love you and trust you.” And that I’ll love you forever.

he looked up through the passenger window, kissed his hand, and waved. I did the same.

We can't always control our circumstances, who are parents are, where we live, or how much money we make, but in those rare moments when we can shape our fate, when we do have the power to make our own happiness, we can't be too scared to do it.

If you can surrender to the idea that there might be a plan, instead of reducing every magical moment to a coincidence, then love will find you. He found me.

Some men rise to the occasion and find a way to make ends meet, no matter what it takes. Other men have too much pride to see that their life is crumbling down around them.

thought loving someone meant letting go, but by the time I learned that loving someone means fighting for them too, it was too late.

Jackson leaned down and pecked me on the lips. “’Bye, Em.” I grabbed his face and leaned in close to his ear. “Love you.” I’ll always have trouble remembering the first time we said, I love you, because by the time we said it freely, we had been feeling it for years. It was as natural as saying, See you later. “Love you,” he said, before turning and leaving a captivated Sophia and a longing Emerson behind on the library steps. “Oh my god, he’s such a dreamboat.” I laughed. “People don’t use that expression anymore, Sophie. That was, like, way before your time.” “I know, but I like it and it suits him.” “Yeah, you’re right, it does. Come on, let’s get some books.

No siempre podemos controlar nuestras circunstancias, quienes son nuestros padres, donde vivimos, o la cantidad de dinero que ganamos, pero en esos raros momentos en que podemos dar forma a nuestro destino, cuanto tenemos el poder de hacer nuestra propia felicidad, no podemos tener demasiado miedo de hacerlo

I turned toward her with red, puffy eyes. Her own eyes widened with concern, and she froze as she watched me walk into the kitchen, like she was waiting for me to crumple onto the floor and shatter into pieces. “I’m fine,” I said. “It’s an emotional book. I’m just getting a glass of water.” I reached for the tequila. She got up and followed me into the kitchen. “That’s not water.” “And?” “It’s ten a.m.” “And?” “You look like you’ve been crying for an hour straight . . . and you’re hitting the hard stuff at—and I repeat—ten a.m.” “Cara, you have the most amazing powers of perception.” I looked at the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, shrugged, set the glass down, and headed back to my room with the bottle only. “I’m worried about you,” Cara called out as I walked away. “I’m fine. Just gonna sit in here, read, and have myself a little mental health day.” I turned and smiled and then locked myself in my room. “Mental health days don’t usually involve tequila at ten a.m.!” she yelled through the door. “I’m fine!

I wondered why, in all of the time that Jax and I had spent together, he hadn’t tried to kiss me. He never even brought it up. I wasn’t the prettiest girl in school—no butt, no boobs, just a beanpole with a mop of dark hair—but I had nice skin and he’d told me once that I had pretty eyes. Actually, he’d said they were weird and so big, he felt like he could dive in and swim around in them. So maybe “pretty” wasn’t the right word . . .

Look.” I pointed to the 7-Eleven on the corner. “Dinner?” he said, eyes twinkling. “Dude, it’s on.” We rushed down the street and skipped over to the convenience store. “Remember what we used to do?” “Yeah, you pick out something, I pick out something, and we share?” “Yeah, let’s do five things each.” We were in and out in minutes. We didn’t peek at what the other person got, we just jogged back to the hotel with our bags full of junk food.

Emerson, are you paying attention?” I sat up straight in my seat. “Yes, sir.” “Okay,” Mr. Williams said. “Then tell us, the system we’ve been talking about this whole class period is called what?” My heart was racing, and the room started spinning. I hated being called on. I had no idea what the answer was, but then Jackson whispered, “Binomial nomenclature.” It was like he had said, I want to make love to you. That’s how Jackson saying “binomial nomenclature” sounded to me. Mr. Williams was still glaring at me. I pointed my finger to the ceiling and announced, “Binomial nomenclature!” “So you are paying attention, Emerson. Good,” Mr. Williams said.

He didn’t let me go. He never let me go. He just gave me the right amount of space, and now it’s time for me to find him.

I hope it’s everything you want it to be.” “What?” “The rest of your life.” “Well we won’t know til the very end, will we?

He reached his thumb out and wiped tears from my cheek. “Em, can we please go back to the way things were?” “Yes . . . definitely.” He pulled me into his chest. “I mean, Hunter Stevens? Really? That guy’s such a slimeball.” I wiped my tears and laughed into his shirt. “Come on, Desiree Banks? She’s a slut and everyone knows it . . . and those boobs, my god.” “For the record, I’m not really a boob guy. Well, I mean . . .” “I get it, dork! I can’t believe she was your first kiss.” He pushed my shoulders back to look at me. “Desiree wasn’t my first kiss.” “She wasn’t?” “No. I kissed Katy Brown in the seventh grade. We made out in the reading room in the back of the library.” He scratched his chin. “And then there was Chastity Williams, and then Lizzy Peters, and . . .” “Okay, okay, geez, I guess Desiree’s not the slut here.

I lay down beside him and stared directly into the sun. He turned on his side and propped his head on his elbow. “You’ll go blind doing that,” he said in a low voice. “Leave me alone.” “Why are you in such a bad mood? You PMSing?” “What do you know about it?” “A lot.” “I doubt that, and even if I were, it’s beyond rude to talk to me about it.” I hadn’t started my period yet, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

They projected an illusion of warmth with their home-cooking and hand-stitched quilts, yet underneath the facade was an institutional rigidity, as if they were running an orphanage where children would be fed and cared for but never loved. Love was such a key ingredient in molding humans, yet it was inaccessible to kids inside of the system.

Maybe you can escape your own slightly flawed love story for a bit and get lost in something more satisfying—even if it is fiction.” I

Everything is going to be fine.” “I don’t want to live in a storm drain, Jackson.” “Not even with me?” He laughed. “It’s not funny, and no, not even with you!” “You won’t, and we won’t. Everything will be fine. You are too fucking smart, Em. Hell, I’m too fucking smart, and we work too fucking hard for this shitty life. It won’t happen.” “Swear to me.” My voice was tiny. “I swear on your life,” he said, and I believed him. “But right now I’m kidnapping you in some loser’s truck so I can hide you in my backyard. Let’s just hope we can get past this part. I don’t think colleges will look too fondly at a juvenile record.

We can't always control our circumstances, who our parents are, where we live, or how much money we make, but in those rare moments when we can shape our fate, when we do have the power to make our own happiness, we can't be too sacred to do it

Jase taught me how to look out at the ocean and imagine whatever I wanted to.

We had a lifetime of moments that were meaningful, spiritual, and transcendent. We refused to reduce our love to some flippant expression based on our age. We were mature enough to know that our actions, in that moment, were selfish.

I know, I hate it too, but I guess it’s like reading a good book. The kind where you don’t want to skip pages to see what happens at the end. Each moment is a story in itself.

Sometimes people who love us make us do hard things because it's what's right.