I Want You Quote From The Notebook Novels & Stories

Nestie asked, a bit doubtful if the blog really does exist. "She said she'd give it a title that I won't forget." Toto chortled as he looked at his notebook. "She called it 'Toto's Notebook'. You can look it up now if you like." "I’ll do that now," said Nestie and he brought out his phone to search for Toto’s Notebook on Blogspot. “Wow! It is live!” Nestie was surprised. “I see there are only five chapters.” “Yes. It will be longer when I finish,” said Toto.

When Carl called, my swollen eyes flicked to the time—almost eleven. The phone buzzed in my hand, fresh tears splashing onto the screen. Three calls. I didn't pick up. Surprisingly, the fourth was from Mia. I was about to shut off my phone when Carl's message popped up: [Stop messing around. I'm not coming back tonight. Stay safe. Your condition isn't serious, right?] A bitter laugh slipped out. I replied: [Not serious at all. Have fun. I'm going to sleep.]

Mother seemed to be crying as she flipped through the notebook, "You're right about that. There have been two notebooks since the beginning—one to record Belle's favorite things, and another to record Belle's wedding gift. "I thought of asking Celine to return the money we spent on her to us. That'll form part of Belle's wedding gift later." It was gut-wrenching. I spat out blood yet again. Not only was there no notebook to record my favorite things, but the notebook that recorded my expenses was, all along, Belle's wedding gift planning records.

Inside was almost nothing. A phone, powered off, that Marcus immediately bagged for his tech team. A half-empty water bottle. And a small spiral notebook, worn soft at the corners, the kind of thing someone carries for years without meaning to. I flipped through it carefully. Most of the pages were mundane—grocery lists, gas mileage, nothing that told us anything. But near the back, tucked between two blank pages like it had been added separately from the rest of the notebook, was a single line in different handwriting than the rest of the notebook.

"Do you remember the plate number? If we can find the car, then we can find them." "Yeah. Hold on. Let me just—" I look around his room and walk to his desk once I see a notebook and pen. I grab it and shut off the voices in my head before scribbling down the alphabet and numbers. I stare down at what I’ve written for some seconds before ripping the paper and striding back to Lemuel. "Here." "You sure?" "Hundred percent." I don’t appreciate it much, but I have a nice memory.

My lips curved up a little after I don't know how long. I took the chair and checked the codings, I didn't know what to get into me. I worked on it, my hands swayed well in the keys. My heart swelled with happiness when I heard the sounds of the keys when I typed. After a while, that guy returned, and he scolded me for using his laptop. He got all his things and left the cafe in anger. I sighed and continued work.

It seems to be something quite important to her. “Yay! Here it is!!! I finally found it.” Anna took a notebook with a black cover. The outside was covered with a leather cloth, and although the edge of the cover was worn but visible, this notebook was very well preserved. Flipping the first few pages, Anna happily read the contents of the notebook written by hand. At a glance, all seemed to be formulas and some sample solutions for math. Anna put the old notebook on the table, took the pink paper that had been straightened, and read the topic on it again.

“Gооd tо bе back, аnd іf you rеmеmbеr wе have a dаtе watching Thе Notebook later оn.” “Yeah . . . about that, wе mау nееd to watch that at уоurѕ . . . I kіnd оf ѕnарреd mу DVD in rage after lеаvіng Starbucks.” I snorted аt hіѕ admission. “I dоn’t blаmе уоu. I wаѕ a соmрlеtе bіtсh that dау.” I trulу was аnd felt the guіlt beginning tо tаkе оvеr again аt thе rеmіndеr.

How could I turn a blind eye when she's my greatest support. I clenched my fist tightly as the memories flushed through my mind. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps interrupted my thoughts, and before I could turn, Maya appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing?" She asked, and I held up the notebook for her to see. "Have you seen this before?" I asked and she glanced at it with a frown. "No, why are you asking?" "This is the codebase. This company was built from this notebook." "So?" Maya blurted, and rolled her eyes.

No official stamp, no foundation logo, and personal notes, of course. Men like him always keep their own record of the damage. I reach for the top notebook first. He puts one hand over it. “Read carefully,” he says. “You may not like what memory looks like when someone writes it down without kindness.” Aurora steps in before I can. “Move your hand.” He does. Good. I open the first notebook. The first page is enough to make my skin crawl. Subject B – intake retention notes. Not Nadia, not a child, Subject B. I keep reading anyway.