Novelas y relatos de Newsies Quotes

******** Quote of The Day: "I felt like an animal, and animals don't know sin, do they?"

She smiled brightly, almost as though she expected recognition. Alan, however, looked anything but impressed. “Seriously?” he replied dryly. “Who even reads newspapers anymore? This is the 21st century.” Casey shrugged lightly, unfazed by his dismissiveness. “Fair enough,” she admitted with a nod. “But if newspapers aren’t your thing, then at least watch the news once in a while.”

Just then a quote caught my attention, You may think you are useless but the small stars still give lights to people who don't have any. That quote was so touching and true. Well literally it's true. It was as if the writer was talking to me. Before I could stop myself I turned back to the hoody boy and called him. "Hey Kevin." "Yes?" I slowly looked up at me. He had an unsure look on his face. "Did you draw and wrote all these quotes?" I asked. He nodded and I smiled. "Thank you." I said and beamed more at him. "I needed it." With that I turned to my front. I don't want to see the look he'll give to me next.

One of the journalists was waiting for an answer. "Sorry, what was the question?" "Your next collection. Can you give us any hints?" "It's about power," Sophia said without thinking. "About women who refuse to be underestimated." The journalists scribbled notes. Later, that quote would appear in three different publications. Later, Theo Sinclair would read every single one. But right now, Sophia just wanted to go home. --- In the car on the way back to the estate, Alexander looked at her carefully. "You talked to him."

"You don't care who wins. You’re just waiting for the last man standing to sign the deed." "I don't even care whose name is on the pen," Kenji turned back to the window, watching the dark tide roll into the harbor. "Miss Rossi, you are an investigative journalist. You should know better than anyone that in Nova City, the truth doesn't live on newsprint. It lives in the margins of a wire transfer." He held the teacup out to her, the white steam blurring his features into a featureless mask.

Fiona’s POV There is this quote from Robert Tea which I read up somewhere which says that, “Broken people are beautiful. They have to put themselves back every day.” The simplicity of this quote resonated with something within me. Something hollow and broken, something tired of fighting to stay alive.

"Did you find something?" He thought about how to answer that. Did you find something? The question every journalist asked, every source feared, every story turned on. He had found many things. He had found the dates, the filings, the article with the photograph and the word tireless. He had found the shape. But what he had found that mattered, what had made him pick up the phone, was not information. It was understanding. "I need to ask you about the quote," he said. "The one from the family acquaintance."

“Journalist. Real, from the old city. She followed him a week. Called him ‘a paradox in muddy sneakers.’” Carolina snorted, but she saw the way the twins watched her, waiting for the maternal reaction she could never quite muster. She finished her soup, set down the spoon. “If you want to run the Kid, run the Kid. But don’t come to me when the newsies dig up the old market brawls.”

McCall said, “Megan dear, don’t you think you should quit your job? It might be dangerous for the wife of my son to be roaming around unprotected.” ‘Roaming? It’s not called roaming but journalism!’ I wanted to retort, but I swallowed it like a hard pill. Mr. McCall was my family’s benefactor now, and I had a lot of respect for him. Instead of expressing my discontent, I smiled politely. “I will need a little time, sir.” “Alright, that’s fine,” the man replied with a dismissive wave. “Just don’t take too long; the world is not safe.” He prepared to rise but ended up doing so with so much restraint that I had to rush to his side to help him.

The man and woman were now in a smaller box on top of the phone screen and a news reporter appeared in the center. “This! This is the guy who is supposed to help PHAT News. I don’t want his bailout.” Alessa said to her best friend Madison as they sipped their coffee at a coffee shop near their New York office. Alessa clicked off her phone, turning off the yelling man, the crying girl, and the news reporter.