Donna Augustine Quotes

I thought we weren't actually dead?", I asked. There was a lot of ambiguity surrounding that subject. We weren't mortal anymore. That was for sure. I could swing by my grave and prove that anytime I wanted. But, we had bodies with needs. And could get hurt or killed. And, though, I've been told we didn't age, my hair continued to grow. I still woke up hungry in the morning, and watch out, if I didn't get a cup of coffee. It was like we were straddling some invisible fence between immortality and human frailty.
"Seriously, are we dead or not? I asked again when I still received no response. I got several yes's and no's at the same time confirming my own belief. Somehow, we were neither.

took the slip from his hand and looked at the strangle symbols.

I've never been good at following directions. All you have to do is look at my Ikea bureau with the crooked drawers to figure that one out.

She was walking toward the house as happy and stupid as I'd ever seen her. She might as well be shitting rainbows from the look on her face.

I don't know if you should be this happy. I'm not sure how much math they taught you at that place you came from, but although two is twice as much as one, in our equation, two still equals fucked.

I don't like this." Cormac punched the stone of the wall as he paced the room. He'd been periodically punching things all day and I'd been graciously not commenting on it.

He didn't get it. That's exactly why I needed my Maker's Mark. You can't throw my life into turmoil, and then screw me out of my bourbon too.

resisting was only going to accentuate how weak my position really was. I stopped fighting, as there was no need to broadcast it.

He leaned forward, his lips grazing her ear before he spoke. "I know you want this too. I've seen the way you look at me.

Don't push it." Cormac said as he looked back to Burrom. "You'll go under again one day, and I'll find out where you're buried and plant a goddamn park bench right over your ass."
"You wouldn't!"
"With a colorful flower box full of daises right beside it.

hell if I was going to be another person who stood by and watched another person get abused without helping. Some of the world's greatest atrocities could've been stopped if people hadn't just stood around watching.

Did he think I was kneeling out of some sort of weird worship ritual because he'd managed to shoot me?

For someone who had died not long ago, she felt more alive with him than ever.

Those aren't the rules. She cost us a meal," Tank said. "You cost the group a meal, you go hungry. That's the way it's always been."
I thought Dax was going to let them fight it out but then he spoke up. "I don't want to feed her right now either but she's a walking skeleton, and I need her alive. If there was one jerky, she'd get it before any of us." He reached over and grabbed two dried meat sticks from Lucy and tried to hand me one.
"I'm fine. I don't need it," I said, looking at Tank.
Dax grabbed my hand and shoved the jerky into my palm. "I took you out of that compound for a reason. I will force-feed you that jerky before I let you starve yourself."
"Fine. I'll eat it. Whatever. You don't need to get so bent out of shape about it." I was hungry as hell so it wasn't actually a concession, but he didn't know that. I mean hell, I knew I needed the calories and the Cement Giant wasn't going to blow itself to smithereens.
"I took a couple of bites as Dax got up and walked out of the camp.
I gnawed on the stuff as I leaned against my rock. "What flavor is this? It's really good stuff."
Lucy and Tank looked at me kind of oddly. Hey, if I was going to eat it I didn't see a lot of reason to pretend it sucked. These people were weird.

You can't escape your fate.

We weren't a couple, but friends didn't spoon every night. Fate and I were officially in relationship-no-man's-land.

I'm not saying therapy is bad, it's just too much work for me. I'm more about embracing my broken self for all that she can be.

What's worse than dead? Is there a new ranking system in the Wilds I'm unaware of?

I've seen countless wars, upheaval, the worse atrocities. I've known hundreds of thousands of people and watched them suffer. And yet the thought of anything happening to you brings me to my knees. Label that however you want.

We've all got skeletons, but I'm afraid you might have a whole god damn cemetery. I'm going to go through with your plan, mostly because I don't know if we have a choice. What really bothers me though, is that my gut feeling tells me that as much as I sense the fight in you, I'm not so sure you'd run away from death. Making plans with someone like you is dangerous.

The biggest question she had was how do you rebuild a life when you aren't a person anymore?

I couldn't avoid my reflection in the large mirrored wall that sat over the vanity area... I had grey smudges of mascara streaked down my face. I guess that's what you get for buying the cheap makeup. Next breakdown I'd be sure to wear waterproof.

I pretended my eyeballs had weights on them to stop myself from rolling them to the back of my head.

He needed to stop acting like we were more than friends or clue me in on what he was up to. "I'm

I already told you I hate these questions. You only ask the ones you know the answers to. You might as well have the conversations with yourself.

The sizzle I felt being near him was so intense, but I couldn't figure out if they were fireworks or warning flares.

The thing that makes us who we are, that goes with us from life to life, it never changes. We always know the people that have surrounded us deep down, whether they are meant to be in our lives at that moment of time or not.

We, on the other hand, are most certainly here, in this house, eating this very tasty bacon. And as long as there's bacon, shit just ain't that bad.

Sometimes, I really cracked myself up.

I also wouldn't mind if he tried out a little bit of what I'd read in chapter ten of the half-naked man book, especially the page I'd dog-eared.

I guess that was the dichotomy of death. Sometimes it was frightening but every now and then in the right moment in life, it was warm and welcoming.

She was slowly being overwhelmed by his scent, the feel of his hands on her and the taste of him. His arms tightened around her until she felt almost weightless on her toes. His lips moved along her neck and she heard the soft sigh of pleasure escape her lips and realized there was no choice for her to make. She'd already made it the day she'd met him.

People say karma's a bitch. Personally, I really don't think I'm that bad.

I'm making friends. You wouldn't know anything about that.

Why did nobody in my life listen to me? So many things could be averted if they did.

If I controlled the world, no one would die before their laugh lines had time to set in.

I was flipping back and forth between do and don't quicker than they were serving up flapjacks down at the diner, he was getting closer to me.... close enough that I could smell him.... smell the heat that he threw off and that other certain energy that was pouring off of him right now at levels I'd not seen since Chernobyl. If I didn't move soon, I'd be in trouble... or ecstasy.

The only thing that happens if you run from a predator is a good chase.

I wanted to stare it down and give the reaper the middle finger when I went.

Don't judge. That was a joke. How could I not? Everyone judged whether we admitted to it or not, usually saving the harshest criticisms for ourselves.

Time was funny like that. If you didn't keep track of it, make the most of every moment, it could run away from you.

Could you even kill a dead girl?

it was almost sad how much stronger the bad times bonded you then the good, welded you together by the heat of brimstone.

He smelled too good, he looked too good and it was just completely unfair. Villains were supposed to be ugly. Just another way I was getting screwed in this deal. My villain didn't even look like he was supposed to.

There is no better or worse, inferior or superior. It's figuring out where you're meant to be and then getting there. This is true in every aspect of your life. If you fight to stay somewhere you don't belong, it will never be good and never get better.

Sometimes the devil you know is just that - some asshole to steer clear of.

I'd title them and file them away as this or that. Everything they did was then filtered through that title, whether it was accurate or not.

It was like every man in my life knew exactly what I wanted them to do and then did the exact opposite, just to fuck with me. "I'm

She's the queen of the herd."
"May I touch her?"
"If she'll let you. She doesn't take to strangers well."
I took a hesitant step forward and reached out my hand. Terror approached me with confidence, then ducked her muzzle beneath my palm. Once she came closer, for a moment, I feared she was going to trample me. But then she brushed gently against my side.
"She wants you to ride her." Jockey looked at me. "This is an honor."
All thoughts of bailing out quietly went to hell with that statement. Why not? How often did you get a chance to ride a Night Mare?

You are familiar with World War 2?"
"Of course I am. I'm dead, not stupid.

I should've written a contract up before we slept together so he understood exactly what it entailed outside the bedroom. It meant you have to agree with everything I say, especially when people I don't like are present

I'm the product of my environment. And it's one nasty fucking world out there.

What are you doing?" she asked.
"What I've imagined doing to you all day. Throwing you on my bed and fucking you until your legs are too weak to try and stand.

In those pictures, people would be out on boats and fishing, and it wasn't even for dinner. I'd read that they did it recreationally back then. Unbelievably, they would throw their dinner back in the water and try and catch it again. I guess it shouldn't be a shock that most of that DNA had died off. Who threw away their own dinner? Sometimes I really didn't understand those people. Dax

Anyone who thought death warmed over didn't look good, had never seen this guy.

I just meant touching me might feel uncomfortable. It's a little like chewing on tin foil. Feels unpleasant but isn't really a problem.

I stood staring at this man, who accepted me fully, and it dawned on me for the very first time, he might be a better person than I was. I'd picked apart every action he'd ever made and weighed it by my scale of correct and incorrect, while he simply accepted me for everything I was.

No, I might not know what's coming, but I know where you're going.

What's wrong with you?" This was worse than a fight. Maybe he was all messed up from the magic. I didn't like when he smiled; he had dimples to die for. I really needed to stay grounded, but it's odd how dents in someone's face could add so much appeal. "Nothing." Still smiling, God damn his dimpled face.

People spend their lives in therapy to fight their natural inclinations. Day in and day out, not doing what they desire in the hopes of being this better, happier and more successful person.

Yeah, well, I'm pissed off that I give a shit too but I do. When I fuck you, I want you to know it's me, I want you to need me there with the very core of your being, clinging to me as if you'd die without it. I want it to be raw and real. Hell, even when Cupid was involved, at least I knew it was about us and not because I happened to be there when you were having a bad week.