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1 " I've always had this fantasy of being at the top of a Ferris wheel with a gorgeous guy and having him kiss me." " Really? That's your fantasy?" " One of them." She narrowed her eyes, but it didn't diminish their light." And I fit the bill?" he said, unable to stop himself from moving his stare to her mouth. Christ, he wasn't expecting her to say any of that, but now that she had, he had the urge to fulfill all her fantasies." You asked." She shrugged and started to turn away.He caught her jaw and tilted it up to his. " Do you want me to kiss you?" Long, dark eyelashes reached the arch of her brows. " We shouldn't" " That's not what I asked." She squirmed, her breath caught." Yes," she whispered. "
2 " The first week of August hangs at the very top of the summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after. "
― Natalie Babbitt , Tuck Everlasting
3 " When you're on a Ferris wheel all anyone ever talks about is being on the Ferris wheel and the view from the Ferris wheel and whether the Ferris wheel is scary and how many more times it will go around. Dating is like that. Nobody who's doing it ever talks about anything else. I have no interest in dating. "
― John Green , Turtles All the Way Down
4 " The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. "
