Helen Hoang Quotes

Their bodies lined up next to each other in that perfect way, and he pressed his cheek to hers like he was savoring being close to her.

"Please, don't let me make you cry," he whispered in her ear. "If something is wrong, tell me so I can fix it. Please."

Her heart squeezed, and she hugged him tight. "I'll tell you.

He'd never imagined her with another man, but he sure as hell was now. The thought irritated the shit out of him.

I wasn't loneliness if it could be eradicated with work or a Netflix marathon or a good book. Real loneliness would stick with you all the time. Real loneliness would hurt you nonstop.

She still shared a bed with him, but she kept her back to him and balanced on the very edge, as far away from him as possible. Sometimes, he worried she'd fall off. Other times, he hoped she'd fall off. So he'd have an excuse to tell her to come closer.

This was the beauty of apparel. A suit transformed you into a certain kind of person. A T-shirt, a different kind of person.

In a split second, she redefined perfection for him. His standards aligned to her exact proportions and measurements. No one else would ever live up to her.

For several stomach-twisting moments, she ran through her list of presocialization reminders: think before you talk (anything and everything can be an insult to someone; when in doubt, say nothing), be nice, sitting on your hands prevents fidgeting and feels good, make eye contact, smile (no teeth, that's scary), don't start thinking about work, don't let yourself talk about work (no one wants to hear about it), please and thank you, apologize with feeling.

If you can't stand being with a woman who's more successful than you, then leave her alone. She's better off without you. If you actually love her, then know the value of that love and make it a promise. That is the only thing she needs from you.

In his experience, shit didn't need a reason to happen.

When you love someone, you fight for them in every way you know how.

It wasn't an absolute of course. People were people, and they hated to be entirely predictable.

She was so beautiful she made his chest hurt.

Women buy underwear for the men they love. It's economics. Data supports this claim."
"Are you telling me you love me, Stella?"
She hugged Karate Bear tight and nodded, suddenly overcome by shyness.
"You're not going to give me the words?" he asked.
"I've never said them to anyone but my parents."
"You think I run around telling women I love them?"
He pulled her close and pressed their foreheads together.
"I'm going to get the words out of you. Tonight.

She needed to get ready for bed, but first, she wanted to do nothing for a few moments. Just nothing. Nothing was such a luxury

His mom frowned. "He wants me to get a boyfriend. Me. I'm almost sixty,"
Janelle nodded sagely. "It's never too late for true love."
"Bah. I just want to work. Money is better than men. I want a Hermès handbag.

Michael was mint chocolate chip for her. She could try other flavors, but he'd always be her favorite.

How did you change your life when you were trapped like this? Her history didn't define her. Her origins didn't define her. At least, they shouldn't. She could be more, if she had a chance.

This goes two ways, Stella. You like the feel of me. I like the feel of you.

All the things that make you different make you perfect.

When her mother got something into her mind, she was like a honey badger with a vendetta - pugnacious and tenacious, but with the snarling and fur,

She put a spoonful of mint chocolate chip in her mouth. [...]
"Let me try it."
She held her bowl toward him, but he didn't put his spoon in it. He trailed his fingers over her jaw as he tipped her head back and sealed his lips over hers. His tongue speared into her mouth, and the salt of him mixed with the flavor of the ice cream. She didn't know if she was mortified, shocked, aroused or all three.

The government didn't care about her, the schools didn't, the scholarship organizations didn't, but this one person did, and sometimes one person could make a world of difference.

So beautiful. And here. She'd come to find him again. No one ever looked for him. They all knew he wanted to be alone. Except it wasn't always that way. Sometimes he was alone out of habit. Sometimes it took effort to distract himself from the growing emptiness inside.

I've missed you." So badly his body had broken down. "I need to know you're safe and happy. And I want you close. With me.

She had a disorder, but it didn't define her. She was Stella. She was a unique person.

When she died, demons were going to torment her for eternity instead of letting her reincarnate. Or worse, they'd let her reincarnate, but she'd be a catfish who lived under a river outhouse. It was only fair. That was what she got for wishing food poisoning on people.

I have pockets, you know. You could have given me your cards and phone to hold for you."

"I didn't think of that. I left my phone at home because I couldn't fit it in." But now that she knew it was an option . . . This was why women had boyfriends.

He never minds. Even when they throw themselves at him. You should have seen the last one. She asked him out to dinner, and he said, 'No, thanks, I already ate.' 'Dessert then?' 'No, I don't eat dessert after class.' 'Coffee?' 'That will keep me up, and I have work tomorrow.

Last night had been a fiasco filled with panic attacks and fear sweat...

Don't forget to apologize. First with words. Then with your tongue.

Quan gave him an impatient look. "Did you touch her clit at all?"

"What's that?"

"Oh hell," Michael said.

Quan smacked his palm to his forehead. "Her clitoris. It's where you stimulate her to make her come."

"Where is it?"

Quan rubbed both hands over his face as Michael repeated, "Oh hell.

Could you say something, please? When a guy tells a girl he loves her, he doesn't want silence in response. Was I too late? Are you over me?"

"Are you wearing the underwear I got you?"

Laughter cracked out of him. "Sometimes, the way your mind works is a complete mystery to me.

It wasn't loneliness if it could be eradicated with work or a Netflix marathon or a good book.

He got out of bed and pulled on his jeans, fully aware of her audience's appreciative gaze. He felt a little ridiculous about it, but maybe he did it slowly. Maybe he flexed his abs and biceps as he zipped his fly and buttoned his pants. Because really, putting on pants required a lot of muscle.

She didn't know how to be semi-interested in something. She was either indifferent . . . or obsessed.

Maybe it was pathetic, but he wanted to live in a world where brides-to-be only had sex with their grooms-to-be and vice versa. Besides, large groups of horny women were terrifying. You couldn't defend yourself against them, and their nails were sharp.

Warm. Content. Safe in his arms. Him safe in hers. She hugged him tighter. He was bigger and stronger, but she would protect him with everything she had.