Outsiders Quotes Novels & Stories

I wasn’t in the mood for another one of her games, so I just grabbed my purse and made my way toward the door. Before I could step past her, she leaned in slightly. "Enjoy it while it lasts," she murmured, her tone low enough that no one else could hear. "People like Selina may be nice to you now, but don’t get too comfortable. When push comes to shove, you’ll always be the outsider." I didn’t flinch, even though her words stung. Instead, I met her gaze head-on. "You know, Zara, for someone who insists I don’t belong here, you sure do spend a lot of time trying to tear me down."

“I’m not getting up.” “You don’t get to decide that,” she snapped, her tone rising slightly. “That seat isn’t for people like you.” “And what exactly are people like me?” I asked, tilting my head slightly as I met her gaze without flinching. She didn’t hesitate. “Outsiders,” she shot back. “Pretenders. People who don’t know their place.” I let out a slow breath, not in frustration, but in something closer to patience. “I’m sitting here because I was asked to,” I replied. “And because I belong here.”

However, both of them avoided her gaze. I smiled scornfully as I patted her face and said, "If you want them as your parents, you can have them. But remember—I'm allergic to idiots. You'll get more than a slap from me if you dare to show yourself in front of me again."

she deadpanned. “That's the only place where you will be safe. There is good security and you will be around your people”. “People? What people? I can never be part of all of you again. I'm nothing but an outsider now and sincerely, even if I'm provided the opportunity, I would rather not return”

Even though the words were unformed and looked so weak, Sabrina still recognized that it was Yvonne's handwriting at a glance. Yvonne's usual handwriting was very similar to her, so her handwriting was very playful. However, at that moment, the playful words looked so weak and hopeless. That letter read, 'Sabrina, I'm leaving. Don't look for me. It doesn't matter if I am alive or dead anymore. I once unintentionally saw some philosophers' quotes, and most of them said something like, Everybody is born to suffer in this world. I didn't believe it in the past. I felt that those were just pretentious words, and they were just making a fuss about nothing and being show-offs.'

“I understand why survival became the priority here for so long.” Carter stayed quiet. “But surviving cannot be the only thing we know how to do forever,” I added. Dean nodded slightly from across the room. Carter looked unconvinced. “And what happens when outsiders reject us anyway?” he asked. “What happens when they decide we are precisely what they always believed?” I thought about the property manager from yesterday. The hesitation, the suspicion, the discomfort. Then I answered honestly. “Then we keep building anyway.” The garage stayed completely silent.

Shekau's voice seeped in through the gaps in the wall of my thoughts I had been engrossed in, hauling my sight back to where he now sat on the stone bench. "A young man once quoted, 'I love it when people dig their own graves as it saves me so much time'," he began in a reverential tone, sucking violently on the already shrunken stick that still remained fixed in his mouth despite the gradual loss of its solidity. I couldn't determine who faced worse, the gaunted stick that was subject to the putrid and foul odour rising from the pits of his decayed and ramshackled mouth or myself as I beyond doubt faced verdict as the words fell from Shekau's lips.

They push a few bystanders away, so that they are not deterred. "Good day," she states first as they halt in front of her. The urge to sigh builds in her chest, but she pushes it back down. "Where have you come from, outsider," the man in the front demands. Olisnia does not answer, eyeing the men. Irritation twitching at the soldier's brow, he growls out, "I will not repeat myself." One of the men behind him, leans in, half whispering, "Sir, she is a—"

“Anyone surprised?” No one answers. A few exchange glances, but they know better than to say the wrong thing. Cowards. I glance at Marcus and he clears his throat. “It’s a slight, Alpha.” I bark out a sharp laugh. “A slight? It’s a fucking insult. A public declaration that we’re outsiders. That we don’t belong with the rest of them. We’re not good enough for their fancy celebration.” No one argues, because they all know I’m right.

The tweeting birds and the chirping squirrels added some kind of nostalgia as I looked at the tall trees that lined the path leading to the exit of the small woods. I made a mental note to ask my builders to come create me a cottage like Elder Hugh's so that I could enjoy what he enjoys often. "They say that you speak like you are sure of what you are saying when you have no proof of it," I heard Elder Hugh say. I turned from the window to the old man and watched as he picked a bottle of wine from his wine rack and turned to the cabinet beside it. "And you believe this quote to be one that was not influenced by external forces?" I asked the elder. Hugh laughed as he skillfully removed two wi