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He had no use for pampered princesses who shopped during the days and partied their nights away. And yet there was an irritating kindness to her—a warmth that she bestowed upon everyone who crossed her path.
Yes! Yes! Kind is the word.
My voice is a little hoarse, and I’m horrified to feel the sting of tears.
The most relatable fl i've seen in a while. Her reactions are so similar to mine.
“Have fun at the gym, Mulroney. I hope you choke on your wheatgrass.”
Aww. Sweet girl. Yes, please do not tolerate mean comments
I don’t wait. I keep right on walking. “Hey, Charles,” I call over my shoulder, carefully avoiding looking at Andrew. “If anyone comes looking for me, take a message, would you? Let them know I’m unavailable because I’m off being ridiculous.”
You go girl. Don't take any shit!
“You don’t send flowers to someone you’re going to kill.” “Maybe they were for your funeral.”
woah!
“You’re smart, you’re beautiful, and you’re fun. If he doesn’t see that—doesn’t appreciate that about you—from the very beginning, he’s not the one.”
I’ve learned something in the past few years: first kisses are never like they are in the movies. There’s never fireworks and foot lifting and butterflies. It takes a while for two people to get used to each other, to learn what the other one likes.
I was wrong, I realize. First kisses aren’t always a disappointment.
Some days you do all the things and still worry you’re not doing crap with your life. Some days you manage to wash and dry your hair and put on mascara and feel like a freaking boss.
“See?” Peter pointed at him. “That right there. That’s where you’re fucking it all up. You’re thinking about it instead of simply feeling it.”
She wasn’t blindly waiting for some fairy tale; she was just smart enough to believe that she deserved it.
