Quotes From All The Bright Places With Page Numbers Novels & Stories

They were all adjusted alphabetically. He then randomly picked a book. ‘If I had your Face – By Frances Cha’ He read the title. He opened the book. On the first page, there was her name and a date written. The date when she either got the book or started reading it. He flipped through the pages. She had underlined some context. Marked notes somewhere. Scribbled replies to some lines. He laughed to himself. There was this line she had highlighted, “In New York, you can talk to anyone about anything at any time and have a conversation so long you'll fall a little in love with that person, and then never see them again.”

“All you gotta do is pick up a book from the return cart by the chapel door. It’s a donation. Look for “The Fault in Our Stars.” He blinked. “The one with the crying teenagers?” “Yeah, that one.” He eyed me. “There better not be a weapon inside it.” I grinned. “Of course not. Just feelings and sodium.” ***** An hour later: Quincy returns to the cell holding the book like it’s been dipped in acid. He drops it on my bed. “There. You and your teen angst.” “Much appreciated,” I say sweetly, peeling back the cover and revealing my treasures tucked into a carved-out hole in the pages.

‘You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me. The words sent a chill down Roseanne's spine, prompting her to return the book to its place with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "What on earth were you possessed with, Nathan?" She knew that she should not judge him too soon. However, she could not control the urge to. She turned to Wuthering Heights, a book placed on the book shelve over his desk. She flipped through its pages while spotting several highlighted quotes. Each quote held a clue to Nathaniel's inner mind. It was a world she sought to unravel in order to understand him.

"People can sleep here if they need to. The owner believes books should be accessible to everyone." I wandered through the aisles slowly, pulling random books off shelves, reading first lines, getting lost in the chaos of it all. Vincent followed at a distance, letting me explore. In a section marked "Poetry," I found a slim volume with a worn cover. I opened it randomly and read: "We are all broken. That's how the light gets in." Something about those words hit me harder than they should have. "Find something?" Vincent appeared beside me. I showed him the page. He read it and smiled slightly. "Leonard Cohen. He understood brokenness better than most."

"I heard you lost your sight in an accident. I was once blind too. I understand what it feels like to struggle in the dark." She suddenly grasped my hand, and in the darkness, I could feel her smiling boldly and triumphantly. "But luckily, I was fortunate. I received a donation from a kind person and have regained my vision. I'm sure you will too." I couldn't see Indya's face, but I could easily imagine the smug expression she must've worn at that moment. Indya moved close to Anthony and sat directly on his lap. "What are you doing?" I heard Anthony's voice, low and strained, followed by the rustling of fabric.

"But it's an honest one." He turned back to the book and found the page he was looking for without searching, the way you find things you have visited many times. He read aloud in a voice low enough that it belonged only to this aisle, to this twelve inches of space between his mouth and my ear. "Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art. Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night. And watching, with eternal lids apart, like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite."

So sweet~ We made our way inside, his hand securely wrapped around mine. As we stepped inside I felt a lot of eyes on me. I almost hid behind Bright because of fear. The looks were either with a scowl, anger or disgust. "Don't think about what other shitheads think okay?" Bright asked next to me and I nodded smiling. And for my surprise I didn't think about other people's thought about me at all. His words itself made me forget about other people.

Drake cleared his throat. "Open page number 139," He said and turned to the table. I took out the book from my backpack quickly, I didn't want to upset him, though his anger wasn't directed at me.

"I'm the ink in your veins, remember?" He pushed me. I fell backward, through the golden floor, through the grey sky, and back toward the blue light of the warehouse. The last thing I saw was Rowan sitting at a desk made of light, picking up a silver pen. He looked at the "Page" of the world and he began to write. ***"Chapter 62: The Day the Lights Stayed On."*** --- ### The Awakening I woke up with a gasp. The air was cold. It smelled of antiseptic and dust.