Quote From The Notebook What Do You Want Novels & Stories

Her thoughts and her questions and the things she had been working through and one question she had written and not answered. She got up. She took the notebook off the shelf. She sat back down at the table and opened it to the page with the question. She read it. The question was: what do I actually want. She had written it weeks ago on a night when the question had arrived in her head with the particular clarity of something that had been forming for a long time and had finally found its shape. She had written it and closed the notebook because writing the question was as much honesty as she had been ready for that night.

"How do you know my favorite wine, Victor?" "I make it my business to know everything about the things I intend to own," he said, finally looking up. His eyes were predatory, stripped of the warmth Seven’s held even in his darkest moments. "The girl on the screen prefers Sancerre. The doctor prefers black coffee. And the mother... well, she prefers silence." A chill crawled up my spine. "What do you want?"

Startled, I quickly shrank back, but it was too late. He strode out, grabbed me by the back of my collar, and hauled me in like a little chick. "Quinn, this notebook is yours?" I was forced to look straight into Nathan's overpowering eyes. "So what if it is?" I shot back, jutting my chin out. "Can't I just doodle whatever I want?" "Doodle?" Nathan shoved the notebook in my face. "Not even a pro coach could come up with these tactics. And a laundry girl drew them?"

Definitely not doing that shit again. "What is that?" I asked her and pointed at the notebook she is holding. "Oh. This? A bucket list. You know, stupid things I want to do before I die." She answered and shrugged her shoulders. I don't know why but something inside me told me to grab it from her so I did. I did grab it from her and then red it. "Hey! Give that back!" She yelled at me but I continued to read from her notebook. She's way too tiny to stop me.

Isla~ "So you're saying..." I breathed out, barely above a whisper. "There has been a chip inside you for almost all your life and you never even knew?" My eyes reflected the disbelief coursing through me. But Dante just shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Pretty much," he said, standing up and walking to the bookshelf behind him. "What? Why?!" Dante chuckled softly, his hand resting on the edge of the shelf. With a casual strength, he moved it aside like it weighed nothing.

1 “The third day I was in the Forbidden Forest, which is famous for the dangers that surround me. However, because of Elena Ween, I had to do my best to find the most precious item. It's strange that every time I feel pain, I often think of you as some kind of motivation that makes me stronger. Elena, as long as you can wait for me, I will come back to find you and give you the best life." Close the worn-out notebook and look outside, on the ship's window is a young face. The face that makes everyone want to approach to get acquainted, he smiled a friendly smile and then seemed to be thinking about something, he immediately opened the notebook and continued reading a few lines. inscribed in

The woman who got it. She reached into her bag. She pulled out a notebook of her own. It was blank. The pages smelled new. She opened it. She looked at the first page for a while. The white space stared back. Clean. Empty. Ready. She held the pen in her hand. The plastic felt smooth between her fingers. She clicked it once. The sound was small in the plane noise. Then she wrote: "Things I want. There are not things I want to take."

“It’s your second day looking. You almost toured the campus, you even went to the college campus, you still can’t find what you’re looking for?” That d*mn notebook. It was my second day looking around campus for the notebook that I had accidentally lost. I just got curious about what was written in that notebook. I didn’t expect that I didn’t realize I was going to release it while running. And one more thing, why does that four-eyed strawberry still have such a notebook like that?

“What the heck am I doing? Yada isn’t here. No one is watching me, and I'm talking to myself for no reason.” She touched the gray patch just above her right eye before ripping the package to shreds. “Let’s see what game we have here.” Examining the notebook, carefully, she recognized Yada’s handwriting. “Okay, Yada or whoever wants me to think this is from Yada, you have my full attention. What do you want to tell me?”

a spiral-bound notebook? With exaggerated care, as if handling some priceless artifact, Caleb set the notebook on the table before her. Lila recognized it instantly - the very same journal he'd commandeered during their last confrontation, now being returned of his own volition. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, darting between the proffered item and Caleb's unreadable expression as she tried to divine the trap surely hidden within this unexpected olive branch. But Caleb merely nudged the notebook closer, then withdrew a pen from his jacket pocket. With deliberate movements, he flipped open to a blank page and began to write. Lila watched, mystified, as his meaty hand laboriously traced out a