High School Quotes - Page 2

It's just high school, man. Those guys are just high school guys, and in ten years they're going to be working for people like me. I know that. I just have to make it through two more years.

Being in a wheelchair has made everyday things difficult. Things you wouldn't imagine. Like the looks I get at high school basketball games when they tell everyone to stand for the National Anthem.

Then he leaned over, right there in the restaurant parking lot, and kissed me. And it wasn’t a friendship kiss, either. It was tender and real, and utterly romantic.

I think it would shock most people if they really knew what we have each survived by the time we graduate high school.

Somewhere along the way of my illustrious high school career I traded my humanity for a prison of popularity.

When people look at me, they automatically assume I'm dark and weird. Why can't they see the truth? I'm just a girl, trying to find my place in the world.

We had grown into one another somewhere along the way. We were officially a team.

Just a few more years and then we'll join the circus.

...as we are endowed. ...with rhetorics. ...none will deny.
...of innocence. ...towards scribbling. ...of love lines.
...and of lust.
...to what seems like male.
...to what seems like female.
...in those days.
...I mean nothing. ...but in high school.
....even me.
...I can't deny.

As long as we don't get turned into something that looks more like high school, more like everybody else and less like us, I'll be okay.

We were supposed to be an English literature class, but Miss Nesbitt used literature to teach real life. She said she didn't have time to teach us like a regular English teacher-we were too far behind. Instead, she taught us the world through literature.

I pull my lower lip all the way in between my teeth. If I try hard enough, maybe I can gobble my whole self this way.... I didn't try hard enough to swallow myself.

Education is every day and everywhere, the only thing you have to pay is attention.

Look at this one.” I picked up a small painting of a man with dark hair and a short, dark beard. He wore a loose shirt, cobalt blue, unbuttoned at the top, showing a prominent, knobby collarbone. He looked…complicated and hungry. She’d captured him focused intensely on a book, his face pressed against a wall like he was resting. Or waiting.