Like No Other Quotes

“But one of the cruelties of teenagehood is that you’ll never know what your parents were really like at your age, and they’ll never accurately remember—not enough to empathize, anyway . . . maybe just enough for pity.”
― Una LaMarche, Like No Other

“My mother used to say that no one knows what's going on in a stew but the pot and the spoon.”
― Una LaMarche, Like No Other

“And I'm not sure if it's G-d, or fate, or just air masses colliding over water, but I will say this: It feels, finally, like flying.”
― Una LaMarche, Like No Other

“Something my mom likes to say when she's up on her equal-opportunity soapbox floats through my head: People have enough reasons not to like you just based on how you look; don't give them any more based on how you act.”
― Una LaMarche, Like No Other

“I keep my chin tucked in, eyes on the ground, the same stance I have when I pass by the guys from my neighborhood who laugh and call me Urkel because I wear a big backpack and don't hang out on the street all night smoking Kool XLs--and by the way, we need a new black nerd archetype; also, when are these wannabe gangstas watching reruns of Family Matters?”
― Una LaMarche, Like No Other

“The hipster contingent has taken over a lot of the commercial streets, and now you can't go two blocks without running into some up-its-own-ass artisanal shop with a name that's just two random nouns thrown together with an ampersand. Satchel & Dove. Twig & Petal. Those are the places where you find out there's such a thing as boutique tarragon mayonnaise and that a baby onesie can legitimately cost sixty dollars. (p.169)”
― Una LaMarche, Like No Other

“hair pulled back in a little ponytail with pieces tucked behind each ear, and she’s wearing skinny jeans, a tight purple button-down, gray Converse, and thick, black-framed glasses that added up make her look like an impossibly cute hipster librarian.”
― Una LaMarche, Like No Other

“Everyone else is running for cover, ducking under jackets and being brought to heel by runaway umbrellas blowing violently inside-out, but for some reason I don't want to move from my spot, even though I'm more than a little scared. Maybe it's my view, the elegant chaos of the New York skyline stretched out before me, buildings stacked on top of one another, holding millions of stories, any one of which could soon be mine. Maybe it's the way the driving rain feels on my skin, cool and strong, commanding the attention of all my senses and making me feel hyper-alive. Or maybe it's the winds that lift my hair off my shoulders and stream it behind me like a flock of blackbirds, rushing in my ears and filling my lungs with an energy that seems unstoppable. All I know is that I'm standing in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge, a lone girl in a long skirt watching a storm roll in with her eyes fully open for the first time, And I'm not sure if it's God, or fate, or just air masses colliding over water, but I will say this: It feels, finally, like flying.”
― Una LaMarche, Like No Other