In Common Quotes

“West's haunted gaze returned to Phoebe's figure in the portrait. "I don't deserve her," he mumbled, without intending to.
"Of course you don't. Neither do I deserve my wife. It's an unfair fact of life that the worst men end up with the best women.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“His laptop makes a strange wheezing noise, and the screen appears with a picture of a Saint Bernard. It's a close-up of the dog's droopy face, a thin line of drool hanging from its left jowl. "That's Momo-chan," he says. Momo means peach in Japanese. "She is the love of my life."
I swivel my laptop toward him, showing him my screen. It's a photograph of Tamagotchi. His teeth are bared, and the picture is a little dark---flashing lights give him seizures. "Tamagotchi. The love of my life.”
― Emiko Jean, Tokyo Dreaming

“When Sam told this story to Sadie, she laughed, though she barely seemed to be listening. He had framed the story in a humorous way, smoothed off some of the edges of his hostility toward the woman in the park. But as he told it, he could feel himself back in that dog park. He could feel the dry California heat and the murderous pounding of his heart. Without warning, an anecdote he had meant to be amusing did not feel amusing. Anyone, who had truly looked at Tuesday could not have possibly seen a coyote. But the woman had not truly looked, and the injustice of this hit him. Why was is it acceptable for apparently well-meaning people to see the world in such a general way?
Sam was put off by Sadie's laughter. He asked her what was funny. She was confused for a moment---hadn't he wanted her to laugh?---and then she said, annoyed, "You get that this a story about you, right? That's why you lost your mind at a dog park. You're Tuesday. You're the incredibly special dog that no one can classify." It was not long after their huge argument, and things were quite strained between them.
Sam told her that she was being reductive, and that her interpretation was insulting to both him and the dog. "It's a story about Tuesday," he insisted. "Maybe it's a story about L.A., too. Maybe it's a story about the kind of people that go to the dog park in Silver Lake. But it's mainly a story about Tuesday."
"The text," she said, "perhaps.”
― Gabrielle Zevin, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

“We shared deep passions. John Hughes movies, the New Romantics, the Chicago Bears. We both loved chicken-flavor Ramen and hated the shrimp flavor. We liked thin-crust pizza over deep dish, and wine over beer, and gin over vodka.”
― Stacey Ballis, Out to Lunch

“As she sat there, her feeling of loneliness increased. And this was strange, because she had always been solitary, and did not usually feel lonely when alone. But she watched Gina with Adam and-
-and she realized that she wasn't happy being solitary anymore.
But the person she was happiest with wasn't a person.
It was Periapt.
Being with him was like being with the perfect companion. He was clever. He was kind, at least to her- though he had been scathing with the fox, and once or twice with Cleo, whom he regarded as being rather too full of herself. They found the same kinds of things funny, they enjoyed the same sorts of books, and it was getting so that they could finish each other's sentences. She was never happier than when she was curled up with him, having a lively discussion over some obscure point in a book.
In fact, simply being with him made her happy- happy in a way that no human male had ever made her feel. Maybe it was simply that he didn't take long, doubtful glances at her oculars, or act polite while all the time he was actually bored.
That realization made her feel very odd indeed. And she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.”
― Mercedes Lackey, One Good Knight

“You seem to have no fear of heights, Miss Miller," he commented.
"I'm not afraid of anything," she said confidently.
"Everyone is afraid of something."
"Oh?" She sent him a provocative glance. "What could a man like you possibly fear?"
To her surprise, he answered seriously. "I'm not fond of enclosed places."
The gravity in his tone made her heart thump heavily. What a voice he had, deep with a tantalizing raspiness, as if he had just awakened from a heavy sleep. The sound seemed to gather at the top of her spine and slide downward like heated honey. "Neither am I," she admitted.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“It really was too early in the day to deal with all of that energy. She didn't dislike Stella Darling. More than anything Ellie felt a twitch of pity for her. At just under five feet, Stella could barely contain herself within her clothes. Ellie wasn't sure if they were too small for her, or if she just happened to own one of those unlucky bodies nothing seemed to fit right. Her hair was an unnatural red that flew out in every direction and she wore too much makeup.
At the paper, Stella's specialty was weather and farm reports. She also knew a fair bit about natural remedies for everyday problems. She always had great tips for things like curing earaches with a hair dryer and various surefire stain removal techniques. Truth be told, Ellie often felt like she had more in common with Stella than she did anyone else. She recognized the invisibility magic wrapped around Stella's uncontrollable curves. But unlike Ellie, Stella fought it with everything she had. She tried too hard, and although she was not invisible physically the way Ellie could be, she slipped the minds of those around her. She invited herself loudly, brazenly to be included. It was that brazen energy that Ellie wasn't always keen to deal with at nine in the morning.”
― Amy S. Foster, When Autumn Leaves

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?" she prompted.
"I don't know, why?" he asked gamely.
"No- you asked me that, last time. I never figured out the answer myself. But I asked everyone when I woke up- er, came back to Angleland, and even read a great many books on puzzles and riddles to try and solve it. So now I have several answers. So tell me which one is right!"
She began counting on her fingers.
"One: because they both have quills dipped in ink."
Her audience just looked at her gravely.
Alice hurried on to the next.
"Two: the American author, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe, wrote on both."
The Dodo and the Gryphon looked at each other and shrugged helplessly.
"And three- my friend Charles came up with this- because each can produce a few notes, tho' they are very flat!”
― Liz Braswell, Unbirthday

“Whipped or ice cream on your dumplings?" she asked them, once the crust browned and the filling bubbled. She sprinkled additional cinnamon sugar on top.
Grace and Cade responded as one, "Ice cream."
Cade leaned his elbows on the table, cut her a curious look. "I didn't think we had a thing in common."
She gave him a repressive look. "Ice cream doesn't make us friends."
Amelia scooped vanilla bean into the bowls with the dumplings. Her smile was small, secret, when she served their dessert, and she commented, "Friendships are born of likes and dislikes. Ice cream is binding."
Not as far as Grace was concerned.
Cade dug into his dessert.
Amelia kept the conversation going. "I bet you're more alike than you realize."
Why would that matter? Grace thought. She had no interest in this man.
A simultaneous "doubtful" surprised them both.
Amelia kept after them, Grace noted, pointing out, "You were both born, grew up, and never left Moonbright."
"It's a great town," Cade said. "Family and friends are here."
"You're here," Grace emphasized.
Amelia patted her arm. "I'm very glad you've stayed. Cade, too. You're equally civic-minded."
Grace blinked. We are?
"The city council initiated Beautify Moonbright this spring, and you both volunteered."
We did? Grace was surprised.
Cade scratched his stubbled chin, said, "Mondays, I transport trees and mulch from Wholesale Gardens to grassy medians between roadways. Flower beds were planted along the nature trails to the public park."
Grace hadn't realized he was part of the community effort. "I help with the planting. Most Wednesdays."
Amelia was thoughtful. "You're both active at the senior center."
Cade acknowledged, "I've thrown evening horseshoes against the Benson brothers. Lost. Turned around and beat them at cards."
"I've never seen you there," Grace puzzled. "I stop by in the afternoons, drop off large-print library books and set up audio cassettes for those unable to read because of poor eyesight."
"There's also Build a Future," Amelia went on to say. "Cade recently hauled scaffolding and worked on the roof at the latest home for single parents. Grace painted the bedrooms in record time."
"The Sutter House," they said together. Once again.
"Like minds," Amelia mused, as she sipped her sparkling water.”
― Kate Angell, The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine

“There were three things Italian and Southern women had in common: a firm grasp of the importance of family, a love for a really good homemade sauce, and the beauty of hair teased, sprayed, or tortured to just the right volume.”
― Karen Hawkins, The Secret Recipe of Ella Dove

“Ariel touched his cheek again. He was peacefully asleep, and she knew she ought to leave before he saw her. But a part of her wanted him to remember something about her, even if he never saw her face or learned her name.
A song bubbled up to her throat, a melody she sang to herself whenever she yearned to explore more of the world that wasn't hers. Going by the party she'd watched on Eric's ship, it seemed they liked music on land, too. Perhaps it was something a mermaid and a human might have in common.”
― Elizabeth Lim, A Twisted Tale Anthology