140 Quotes by Katharine McGee

Underneath that skin they were the same, a frame of bones supporting a tangle of nerves and muscles and a steadily beating heart. It seemed ridiculous that anyone should care what color wrapped around it all.

Who said anything about forgetting? The point of forgiveness is to recognize that someone has hurt you, and to still love them in spite of it.

She was maddening and stubborn and tormented and deeply flawed, but so was he; and maybe the important thing wasn’t finding someone without flaws, but just someone whose flaws complemented your own.

When she finally lifted herself up, she was Princess Beatrice no longer. She had become Her Majesty Beatrice Regina, Queen of America, and long may she reign.

Maybe that was just the way love went—it was something that happened *to* you, and the best preparation you could hope for was the chance to take a deep breath before the wave of it crashed above you and you were in over your head.

What did it matter? New York would go on with or without her, the same as ever, just as loud and electric and raucous and bright. New York didn’t care that those were the last words Avery Fuller ever spoke.

Typical New Yorkers, forever determined to bring the world to them, as if they couldn't be bothered to leave their tiny island.

That was what she loved about New York. That feeling of utter aliveness, a rush and flow of ruthless, furious energy. That New York belief that this was the center of the world, and God help you if you were anywhere else.

How could she possibly explain the way she felt about New York? She loved it, in that strange way you can love something thaat never loves you back, because it has left its imprint on your soull. Calliope belonged in New York, or maybe she belonged to New York.