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Quote by Colleen Hoover

Work

Maybe Someday

This novel follows the evolving relationship between two individuals as they navigate the challenges and joys of life, their connection deepening through the years. more

Author

Colleen Hoover
Colleen Hoover

Colleen Hoover is an American contemporary author known for her emotionally rich novels. Her works often explore themes of love, family, and self-discovery, and have gained a large following among readers. more

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“He takes my face in his hands, preparing to say something to me. But instead of speaking or signing, he just drags in a speechless breath as he stares silently at me. He lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me gently on the lips. Then he meets my eyes, conveying more with one look than he’s ever conveyed through any other form of our communication. “Sydney,” he says quietly. “Everything we’ve gone through to get here. Right here. It was all worth it.” There isn’t a thing I could signs or words I could say that could top the meaning in what he just spoke to me.”

“Are you sure you guys will all…fit?” The looks on his brothers’ faces had Orion almost laughing loudly, but he held himself in check so he didn’t embarrass Syd or make her think she couldn’t ask them questions. But he couldn’t help but smile at Sterling’s proud grin and Crux’s worried frown. Sterling clearly took the question as a compliment, while Crux was most likely now wondering if it was possible.”

“Regional interests and loyalties are even stronger among Australians than among Americans - in that in social life they exist almost without challenge. Canberra is a poor thing compared to Washington and there is no great metropolis like New York that sets many of the nation's trends. There is no generally acknowledged central city where the important things are believed to happen and it seems better to be.”

“For five days the city had wilted under a hard sky, sweltering in a temperature that stayed fixed in the middle nineties. Even at night there was no relief from the heat. Pyjamas and nighties stuck clammily to damp skin. Half-clad, self-pitying figures rose, exasperated by insomnia, to stumble through darkened rooms in search of a cooler plot than their bed, hoping that, all accidentally, they might waken any gross sleeper the house contained. Cold water ran hot from the taps, and the roads turned to tar.”

“The city, to her, meant a few particular blocks - the best blocks - lying together in a neat rectangle, linked by arcades and department stores; three streets one way, cut by four at right angles, bound at the top by gardens, self-enclosed at the bottom and either end. Three or four times a week she walked the streets of these blocks, smelt the coffee, the flowers, the rich expensive leather, the cosmetics.”