❀ Minesha ❀

“Fern has Ugly Girl Syndrome.” Bailey said, out of the blue. “Also known as UGS … She grew up thinking she was ugly. She doesn’t realize that she shed the ugly a long time ago. She’s beautiful now. And she’s just as pretty on the inside, which is a side benny of UGS.”
― Amy Harmon, Making Faces

“You love my art?"

Adam laughed. "Jesus, I tell you I love you and you're more interested with the fact that I love your fucking art? Yeah, Miles, I love your art. I love your smelly paints and weird concoctions and the way you run your hands throught your hair so it stands on end. I love your crazy-ass bird. I love the way you completely lose yourself so deeply in what you're doing that an atom bomb could go off next door and you wouldn't even notice. I love how you look when we've just made love, and I love when you're all pissy and cranky and yelling. I love this cottage and this resort and I love this room and I love your room. I love you." He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Mile's eyes. "I love you. Do you...can you..."

"Moron," Miles said with a grin. He took Adam's hand and dragged him to Miles' own room.

There had to be six-no-eight-no, eleven portraits of Adam hanging on the walls of Miles' bedroom.”
― Rowan Speedwell, Illumination

“How can you tell if someone is a vegan? Just wait ten minutes and they’ll tell you.”
― Graeme Simsion, The Rosie Project

“Speaking of names and all-time favorite romances, Bailey told me you write under a pen name. I've been really curious about that."
Fern groaned loudly. She shook her fist toward Bailey's house. "Curse your big mouth, Bailey Sheen" She looked at Ambrose with trepidation. "You are going to think I'm some stalker chick. That I'm totally obsessed. But you have to remember that I came up with this alter ego when I was sixteen and I was a bit obsessed. Okay, I'm still a bit obsessed."
"With what?" Ambrose was confused.
"With you," Fern's response was muffled as she buried her forehead in his chest, but Ambrose still heard her. He laughed and forced her chin up so he could see her face. "I still don't understand what that has to do with your pen name."
Fern sighed. "It's Amber Rose."
"Ambrose?"
"Amber Rose," Fern corrected.
"Amber Rose?" Ambrose sputtered.
"Yes," Fern said in a very, very small voice. And Ambrose laughed for a very, very long time.”
― Amy Harmon, Making Faces