Ally Condie quotes: wise famous quotes, sayings and quotations by Ally Condie

Ally Condie Famous Quotes & Sayings

Discover top inspirational quotes from Ally Condie on Wise Famous Quotes.

Each word I write brings me closer to finding the right ones.

That's how I know they are dreams. Because the simple and plain and everyday things are the ones that we can never have. (Cassia Reyes)

She knows how things fit together and move, but so few people understand her. She's the most solitary person I've ever known.

They say you should always teach a person's name first. That way, even if they never learn to write anything else, they'll always have something.

This is the difference between us. I live to sort, he knows how to create.

in that report. She

There are some things you only tell a sister. And some things you only ask of a sister.

Trust your words

I don't know why I didn't carry around pictures and poems all the time before I came here.

Shallow roots. Sandy soil. The bark is gray and rough. The leaves are long gone but her name still looks beautiful to me.

I see too many things. I always have. Words and pictures connect together in my mind in strange ways and I notice details wherever I am.

Why are some things easier to write than say?

I wouldn't take that tablet Cassia. Not for a report. And perhaps not ever. You are strong enough to go without it.

When suddenly across the June a wind with fingers goes.

You don't know me," she says. "Yes, I do," I say.

Our time together feels like a storm, like a wild wind and rain, like something too big to handle but too powerful to escape.

It's all right," he says. "But maybe - you could - " He looks into my eyes, deep, and I know what he wants. A kiss.

I wanted to know more about this boy who lives among us, but who never truly speaks.

Thoughts from the boy who is an Aberration.

I think I'm looking at one of the air ships the farmers tried to take down.

Why care about a flat planet populated by flat people? Who cares about a place where there is no Ky?

Thank you, he answers. There is a light in his eyes and I am the one who put it there.

She's not the kind of person to watch someone else build a boat and set sail without her.

You wouldn't believe how fast people can forget about someone.

I realize now how much courage it takes to choose the life you want, whatever that might be.

We have things of value, but you could never find them because you don't even know how to look.

When I look over later, I see that Eli is crying, but it's not enough to drown in so I don't do anything yet.

Being a teen is past for me. Worrying about the world and my place in it is not.

I know the Otherlands are to her what Ky is to me, the best, most beautiful place, not fully realized, but full of promise.

Because if she isn't angry with him, how can I be?

When you can't cry because all you are is pain, and if you let some of it out, you might cease to exist.

I wonder if there have been other errors.

Forgetting lets you live without the pain for a moment but remembering hits hard.

Sometimes you can't speak, not because others won't let you, but because you are afraid of what you'll say.

Good-byes are like this. You can't always mark them well at the moment of separation - no matter how deep they cut. (Ky Markham)

Sometimes paper is just paper, words are just words. Ways to capture the real thing. Don't be afraid to remember that.

But then I feel it. Even hidden away in the dark, I can tell that it is there. Some small part of me is always, always free.

I marked a map for every death
For every ache and blow
My world was all a page of black
With nothing left but snow.

Maybe you can choose someone, too." "I did,

Then Xander whispers, Cassia ... if we could choose, would you ever have chosen me?

I run for her.
I run for them.
For me.

We are the ones who are alive. Here. With everything to lose

The only chance of success is to trust in your own power.

Even if he didn't live his story, enough of us have lives just like it. So it's true anyway.

It's so huge," I say to him, and he nods.

I have always loved the way she says my name.

Do you think you could let someone go if you thought it was best for them?

This how it always feels to be with her - a mixture of amusement and admiration and exasperation.

Are you congratulating me on my life, or on my death?

Then, quick, he flips the fish out onto the bank. It flops and gasps for air, its body slick.
We all watch the fish die.

Can I trust this boy who writes in the earth?

Apparently I was predicted to finish second. My stop must not have been as long as I thought.

The Society slides in everywhere, snakes in a crack, water dripping against a rock until even the stone has no choice but to hollow and change shape.

It's good to see you jealous once in a while." He smiles, sun in the woods.

You don't usually get to choose the measure of suffering or the degree of joy you have. (Ky Markham)

There's a reason they didn't keep this poem. This poem tells you to fight.

His uniform seems threadbare and tired, and so does he, as though he's coming apart along the edges.

I'm standing in a river. It's blue. Dark blue. Reflecting the color of the evening sky.

Have to believe in something to survive. She's picked the Rising. I chose Cassia.

There's nothing like reading about a world that feels dead to throw your own beautiful, colorful life into sharp relief.

Things happen whether you deserve them or not

The poems and stories we shared with each other could mean what we wanted them to mean. We could choose our own path together.

Only when I hold onto nothing can I be the best, only then can I be what they expect me to be.

Did the poet know how lucky he was, to have such beautiful words and a place to put them and keep them?

I know which life is my real one now, no matter what happens. It's the one with you.

The dead don't see but I do.

I can trust in my parents' love. And it strikes me that is a big thing to trust, a big thing to have had, no matter what else happens.

And I'll tell her that I don't want my life to be samples and scraps. A taste of everything but a meal of nothing.

Because if you can't dream you can't pretend that he's still there

I was born and raised in southern Utah.

You left me like he left you.

And even in my panic, I hear the music in his deep voice, the sounds of singing. I close my eyes, imagining my breath is his own, that he is with me

The Society music plays around and over us, but our thoughts are our own.

The earth reflects the sky and the sky meets the earth and, every now and then, if we're lucky, we have a moment to see how small we are. Thank

Something beautiful. My hands are stained red

My mother painted with water," he says. "And my father played with fire.

There's a difference between knowledge and technology. Knowledge doesn't fail us. -The Society/Cassia, 'Matched

He didn't have any words for me. Why should I give him any of mine?

These branches will be my bones, I thought, and the paper will be my heart and skin, the places that feel everything.

What is it about your voice that
makes me want to hear you speak?

Two little dark figures, looking up. Are they looking at me? Is is him? This far away there's only one way to know. I point to the sky.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Things here are so different. Poisoned rivers, softened stone. You never know exactly what you're getting into. What will hold and what will give way

I could go above ground now and then to gather food and paper, and isn't that enough to live on?

No."
"Why?"
"No one needs to know," I say.
"To know what?How long you've lasted?" Vick asks.
"To know anything about me," I say.

In a story, you can turn to the front and begin again and everyone lives once more. That doesn't work in real life.

Because once you love, it is gone. You love and you cannot call it back.

I keep telling myself that, and most of the time I believe it.

It is one thing to make a choice and it is another thing to never have the chance.

I'm lying. I won't go with her to the Rising, no matter what.

And out of nowhere, I think: So this is how it feels to stand at the edge of a canyon.

His body belongs to him more than most people's do, and I ache at the thought that it might have to stop, be still. You

The Society wants us to be afraid of dying. But I'm not. I'm only afraid of dying wrong.

Perhaps this is what I learned in the canyons: What I am, what I'm not, what I'll give, and what I won't.

If they feel something, they fight. If you were in a place with no pain, why would you want to come back?

I think of my second lost compass sinking to the bottom of the river, like the stone it was before Ky changed it.

I can't tell him that I didn't see him until they told me to look.

If I could find one, I would cover the bark with her name the way I used to cover her hand with mine on the Hill.

I have a sense that we have not yet arrived, that we are still reaching. For each other. For who we are meant to be.

In the end you can't always choose what to keep. You can only choose how you let it go.