J.M. Darhower Quotes

I'm thinking the only way you could possibly be any more perfect right now," he says against my skin, "would be if I were fucking you so hard the people in the lobby could hear your screams.

We waste too much time looking for the next thing and not appreciating what we have right now ... and right now, what we have, is endless opportunities.

I tense. "What?" "Come on," he says, shifting

Tupac was around back in my wind-up phonograph days, you know.

I'm going to tell you something that a wise man once told me: it's not the darkness that's terrifying, it's what you might find in it. I was always afraid of the dark as a child, afraid monsters would sneak into my room at night, but now I know there's nothing to fear. Not because monsters don't exist. They do. I've seen them. I've encountered them. One attacked me as I slept. I even became one myself afterward. No, the reason there's nothing to fear in the dark is because real monsters lurk in the light, too. They hide in plain sight. The trick is to find them before they can get you. I'm not a good man. I'm not. I know...I've learned my lesson. I find peace in the darkness sometimes now. I find peace with her. I'll never forget, but she makes me feel like it's okay to remember. It's okay to remember the pain and fear. It's okay to admit the darkness terrified me. Because I found some light in it. I found her.

Happiness is having your very first hickey, put there by a set of soft lips that speak the smoothest words that sound like music to your ears and whispers to your soul.

You're the queen. I'm just a commoner.

Haven stared at the door once he was gone. "He seems strange."
"Yeah, I've noticed. It's a bit scary. He's resolved these days, like he has some fucking grand plan to save us all."
"Do we need to be saved?"
"Don't we always?

He fucks me like he means it, like he needs it, like being inside of me is more important than anything inside of him, and every cell in my body calls out to him, craving more of it.

I'm not that bad," he said. "I'm rich, popular. I have a sense of humor. I'm good looking, and not to mention I have a really big -

It's not black and white," he said. "If it were, I wouldn't be here right now, and neither would you. We're the gray area, angel. We're the pieces of the puzzle they don't know what to do with, the pieces that don't quite fit into their perfect little picture, so they choose to discard us, to keep their image untainted,but we can only be ignored for so long.

The opposite of love isn't hate.

I'm surprised you haven't cried foul before. I won a hundred and twenty-three games in a row. You had to know something wasn't right." Her eyes narrowed. "You've been cheating?" "Of course," he said. "Come on. You really think I play fair? If I want something, I get it. I told you - I make all the rules here." "You . . . you . . . you. . ." Anger clouded her expression. "You asshole!" Lucifer's eyes widened. "Tell me how you really feel, angel.

Everything I do, I do it in excess; everything I have, I have more of than I'll ever need.

We keep the darkest parts of us to ourselves until we think others are ready to see them.

The man has fucked me in every sense of the word.

She's not just under my skin, she's in my organs, wrapped up in my cells, infecting me.

She got fired?" Confusion laced Gavin's voice. "When?"
"This morning," Dante muttered.
"Why?" Gavin asked. "What did she do?"
"Me," Dante said.
"Oh." A moment of silence passed before Gavin broke out into laughter. "Ah man, really? She lost her job for fucking around with you?"
"I don't see why that's so funny."
"Because," Gavin said, "you're the worst consolation prize ever."
Dante shot right back up, and Matty barely had enough time to move out of the way before the bottle of water hurled by him, hitting Gavin in the chest.

I raise my hands, still clutching the grenade. They could try to take it from me, try to disarm me... hell, they could even go ahead and shoot me in the face... but they'd have four seconds to save themselves before we all got blown to pieces.
They take a few steps back, but nobody lowers their weapons, like guns are going to help them in this situation. Rock, paper, scissors, motherfuckers... you better take your pick and hope like hell you win.

You had me," she whispered, cheeks flushing at the reminder. "I did," he agreed. "But the past isn't what matters. I live in the present, Genna. I live in the now. I had you, yeah, but what I want is to have you.

Good," he says. "Because I'm about to fuck you like I don't.

Holy fuck. This man and those hands... he doesn't play fair. At all. He presses buttons he's got no business pressing.

Maybe he was dangerous, but for some reason, she trusted him.

I happen to like my balls. They accentuate my cock quite nicely, you know. I'd show you, but well... you've got to earn that first. So pay attention, okay? There's work to do here.

They say when seeking revenge, dig two graves, one for you and one for them.

Smiling, Celia leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him. She pulled back, pressing her hand flat against his chest. His heart thumped erratically against her palm.
"You're wrong about yourself," she said seriously. "You said you were heartless, but that's not true. I can feel it, Corrado. It's in there. And as long as it's beating, I know it's there, working overtime, and you'll never convince me otherwise.

He's excitement. He's adrenaline.
He makes my heart do stupid shit.
Shit my heart shouldn't be doing.
Because everything that turns me on about him could also snuff me out.

It's hard to feel alive when you've been obliterated inside, hard to feel real when you no longer remember how to dream.

Sometimes I lose perspective, but it helps to stop and look around. I may not have it all, but I have more than enough. And enough, it seems, is more than most have ...

That was me, angel.

The injury therefore that you do to a man should be such that you need not fear his revenge.

Who are you anyway? What are you even doing here?"
"Haven," she said quietly, peeking at him.
He gazed at her peculiarly. "Heaven? No, this definitely isn't Heaven. But I get why you're confused, since I'm standing in front of you." She stared at him, and he
cracked a smile. "I'm kidding. Well, kinda ... I have been told I've taken a girl to Heaven a time or two."
"Haven, not Heaven," she said, louder than before. Nothing about the conversation made sense to her. "My name's Haven.

How's my sweet niece doing, still in her PJs even though it's noon?"

Meghan's gaze shifts to me, suspicious. Yeah, it's practically the walk of shame, family-style.

I haven't even brushed my hair. Ugh, I haven't showered. Her brother's DNA is all over me, all up in me, and Meghan's the human equivalent of a bloodhound.

He asked if I was happy with you. Nothing of importance." He groaned after the words rolled from his lips. "Not saying that's not important, or that you aren't important, because you are. I'm just saying it's not a big deal or whatever. Well, I mean, it is a big deal, but - "
Haven covered his mouth with her hand to shut him up. "I get it, Carmine. I love you too.

What if we both can't win?" "I've already told you what happens then." "What?" "I give you the plank, Karissa." It takes a moment for her to understand. The Plank of Carneades.

I thought I would never experience
a moment more satisfying than last night,
but wow ... these pancakes. Best ever."
"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or offended.

Uh, I'm thankful for you all, even if you get on my nerves sometimes," Carmine said. "Oh, and orgasms ... definitely thankful for those.

He fought back tears again, still unable to get himself under control. Life overwhelmed him, tugging him in opposite directions while he stood stagnant, trying to remain whole. He was surrounded by violence and death, the ugliness eating away at him, but then, on the other side, there was her. She was peace, and hope, and pure fucking beauty. She was the good that he hoped would overpower the bad.

Sogni dóro, mia bella ragazza," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "Sweet dreams my beautiful girl.

The sound, I'm convinced, is going to fucking kill me. Death by orgasm ... and it's not even my own.

After one last kiss, she stepped away, wrapping his jacket tightly around her. "I'm keeping the coat."
"Okay."
"I'm going to wear it to bed."
"Okay."
"With nothing on underneath it."
Winking, she slipped inside, leaving him on the porch with that mental image ringing through his head.

You're so goddamn beautiful."
Her eyes open, and she looks down at me, leaning closer, her voice shaky as she says, "It's been so long since somebody said that and I actually felt it.

Her" title="J.M. Darhower Quotes: You're so goddamn beautiful."
Her" width="913px" height="515px" loading="lazy"/>

You know what they say," I tell her. "That which doesn't kill me - "
"Only makes me stronger," she says, finishing the sentence.
"I was going to say isn't trying hard enough, but that works, too.

Every step you take - everywhere you stand - the ground beneath your feet is tainted by some kind of casualty. It's an inescapable fact. Nothing is untouched by death. Nothing.

You may growl, and hiss, and meow, and maybe sometimes you bring out those claws, but I know how to make you purr. I'm the king of the jungle. I'm the predator.

Yeah, love is when you always want to be with the person," Lisa said, " you want to go everywhere they go and do everything they do. You'd follow them anywhere"
"That's not love, Lisa," Carmine said, "That's called stalking.

Her bitch of a mother shot me and I'm only worried about her. Go figure.

Come on, I'm not going to bite you. I'm not a vampire.

I like to think I'm one of a kind.

It's like the man is an open book but whatever his story is just happens to be written in a different language.

Everything he does is for a reason. There's always
method to his madness, meaning behind every word, a point to his actions.
And it's usually never good.

We spent an hour together this morning trapped in a box with no way out. And you know what I realized that hour?" "What?"
"I kind of liked a world where it was just you and me

Everyone sees what you appear to be," he says, "few experience what you really are.

I met my match with you."
"Match made in heaven."
"Or hell. Depends on who you ask."
"You," he says. "I'm asking you."
"I'd say a bit of both, then. We were fire and gasoline. We burned hot for a long time."
"Past tense."
"What?"
"You said that in the past tense."
"Guess I'm used to talking about us that way.

it's beauty sleep for the beautiful," he says, looking at me, "but there's no rest for the wicked.

His eyes alone set her insides ablaze.
The blue looked dark as midnight at the moment, a twinkle in his eyes like they held all the stars in his gaze. He had a solar system inside of him, a universe of secrets Serah yearned to explore.

He's turned my blood to ice, stopped my heart from pumping it from fear that if it does, it might still beat for him.

Because God knows, if He ever took Celia from me, I'd burn the world down around us all

Serah. She was different now, with her flushed cheeks and heartbeat so strong he could hear it where he sat, but remnants of the angel still lingered in her body. Her essence was intact, calling out to him, somehow connecting with a part of his soul so strongly that he could almost feel her heart beating within his own chest. Probably

Go for it, while you can. I know you have it in you. And I can't promise you'll get everything you want, but I can promise nothing will change if you don't try.

They were two broken kids, desperate to be whole again, struggling to find balance in a world out of their control

It's torture, what he's doing. I can't see. I don't know. But his mouth is fully on me now, tongue doing whatever it does, flicking and licking, sucking and fucking, completely devouring me, like he's starving.

Yeah, you're right, it's not," he agreed. "For the record, though, I only tie girls up when they ask me to." His

Sometimes, I feel like I'm just a step away from that, just one breakdown away from chopping my own dick off and slapping somebody with it. The only thing stopping me is that I happen to like my dick. It gives me some of the only pleasure I get out of this life I've been given.

Remember what Mommy said about what to do when something scares you?" "Name it," she whispered. "Exactly." Her mother's smile softened. "If you give the monster a name, it takes away its power, because we're really just afraid of what we don't know. If

You keep being so charming and I might start catching feelings."
"I wouldn't blame you," I say. "Just, you know, keep them to yourself, in case they're contagious."
"Don't worry," she says. "I practice safe sentiment. I'll be sure to wrap it before I yap it."
I laugh at that. This goddamn woman. She's got a mouth on her, without a doubt, the kind of mouth that's destined to get her in a lot of trouble in life.

We're a tragedy in the making. The game of tug-of-war we're playing will end up destroying us, because she doesn't have it in her to surrender, and I can't let go.

Don't act like you Galantes are all roses," he replied. "You've got more thorns than you do petals, princess." Princess

Dia wrinkled her nose. "Gross. You need a decent girl, one that can straighten you out."
"I don't need to be straightened out," Carmine said. "Why drown in love when you can have so much fun swimming in lust?

Go to your happy place. Go to the house, the one with the red door and the white picket fence. Go back to where nighttime meant kisses and hugs, bedtime stories and cuddles with Buster. Go to where sunrises were promises instead of just false hope. Go to where love still lives.

I hear her pacing the house, mumbling, words I can barely make out and am frightened to hear. The words 'Carpe Diem' come from her lips like she's a broken, skipping record, and I clutch the pendant of my necklace tightly, fighting back tears. Because I know she's talking to him, appealing to an invisible man named John, the one who walked out on her when I was born. I know it's not my fault. Not my fault she's this way. Not my fault he left her. But fuck if I don't feel guilty anyway.

Lorenzo Gambini, I presume? Or would you prefer to be called - "
"Sir," I cut in before he can say Scar. "You can call me sir, if it gives you the tingles. Otherwise, let's just stick with Gambini.

At least, when invisible, she remained safe.

Beautiful," I say. "Absolutely stunning."
"My tits?"
"I meant your dancing, but yeah ... those, too.

"My" title="J.M. Darhower Quotes: Beautiful," I say. "Absolutely stunning."
"My" width="913px" height="515px" loading="lazy"/>

I scrub my hands over my face, groaning, as he makes his way up onto the roof. He's giving me whiplash. Dealing with him is the last thing I expected to be doing tonight, considering I just saw him this morning, but now he's here... well, he's up there... and it kind of just makes me want to be wherever he is.

Maybe that's why you love acting so much. Maybe you're tired of being yourself.

He ran the back of his fingers along her flushed cheek. His touch was soft, and she leaned her head in his direction. "My beautiful girl," he said.
She took in his expression. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"I don't think you're beautiful, Haven," he said. "I know you are.

I didn't say you weren't fine. I said you looked lost, not that you didn't know your way.

The family we're born into is important, sure, but they're not all we have. They're not all we are. A part of life is making your own family. That's the beauty of it all." I smile softly. "Do you have a big family?" "I do," he says, "but most of us aren't blood related.

I think, if he did it, it was just desperation. Because looking at her, I know she's my yellow. She's the happiness inside of me.

I should kill you, I fucking wish I had it in me to do it.

Voting's important," Corrado said, pausing at the cellar door. "People like to feel like they actually have a say in what happens, even if it's just an illusion.

These people care about bloodlines and rank and power and shit, but none of that matters to me. I'd never pursue a woman because of who her father is. Chances are I'd just hate her. In case you haven't noticed, most of the women in the life are spoiled, uptight bitches who feel like people owe them. And I refuse to accept the fact that I owe anyone a thing . . . except you, maybe. So, no thanks.

The woman's touch is witchcraft. It's a sin to give in, but seeing as sinning is my specialty, I let her dark magic consume me, because what do I have to lose?

There isn't a button," she said. "You choose your setting and then you pull the dial."
He glanced at her as she folded a shirt, annoyed by her nonchalance at doing laundry. "What exactly is my setting? It looks to me like the setting is the goddamn laundry room and the plot is I don't know how to fucking turn this thing on.

I wasn't accusing you of cheating. I just wanted to know how long it took you to move on."

"Oh, well, that's an easy one," he says. "It hasn't happened.

Whenever I close my eyes, I see her. Scarlet. I see her smiling. I see her crying. I hear her laughter flowing through me, sending chills down my spine. The sound of her moaning creeps through my bloodstream, the face she makes in the throes of passion the pulse that spurs it on. Whatever this is I'm feeling, I want it to stop. I want it to go away. I want to stop fucking seeing her every time I blink. I want to stop fucking thinking about her every time I pause to take a deep breath. She's like an infection that's settling into my chest. I would rip out my own organs if I thought it might purge her from my system.

I'm sorry, Genna," he said. "Really, I am. I didn't want to hurt you." "You didn't," she said, backing away from him as she tried to ignore the pain nagging her chest that suggested otherwise. Man, it did hurt. It hurt like a son of a bitch. "I'm just disappointed, Jackson.

Sweetheart, you don't even know the half of it.I envy you more than you could possibly understand.

But I just need to tell you… I need you to know… that even when I was completely fucked up, I never once stopped loving you.

I've missed the fuck out of her these past few years. I don't deserve her time, not in the least, but I'm so desperate for some part of this woman back that I'll steal every second that I can get.

You don't pay to look at art. You pay to keep a piece of it.

I'm gonna take a nap, Heaven," he said, wanting away from her to clear his head. He didn't like feeling uncomfortable in his house.
"Haven," she corrected him as he started to walk away.
"I know," he said. "I kinda like Heaven though."
She turned to him, and their eyes met for the first time since he'd walked into the room. "Me, too.

Tell me you don't feel it then, the fluttering in your chest; the hair on the nape of your neck rising as your nerve endings stir, your fingers tingling with the need to reach out and caress something." His eyes raked down her form. "Tell me your body doesn't ache at the mere thought of me between your thighs, on top of you, inside of you, giving you what my brother never could - real feeling, the kind of feeling that makes you scream so loud your throat feels like it's bleeding. Agonizing pleasure, the kind that torments your every thought, driving you to the brink of insanity only to pull you right back from the edge, over and over and over again. Unbearable pleasure, the kind that makes you beg for it to stop, but the moment it's over, you feel like nothing but an empty, useless shell - a shell that needs more.

Some things in life only happen once, the memories of them lasting forever. they're moments that alter you, turning you into a person you never thought you'd become, but someone you were always destined to be.

No, that thievery is." I shake my head, turning away from the replication. "Nobody likes a cheap knock-off. If you're going to be an artist, you've gotta do your own thing. Be your own person. Create what's in you instead of impersonating others. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but I call bullshit. It's one thing to be inspired by something. It's another thing to fucking copy it.

Do you at least like The Force Awakens?"
He stares at me. "I haven't seen it."
"Wait, what? How can you call yourself a fan if you haven't even seen the new movie?"
"I've been a bit busy lately," he says. "Dealing with you has taken up a lot of my free time."
"Oh, whatever. That's bullshit. You had enough free time to put together a gazillion piece puzzle. You've got time to watch a movie, and you know it. I'm just... I'm ashamed of you. Legitimately ashamed."
"I'm guessing it's good, then?"
"Oh, I don't know." I shrug. "I haven't watched it. Been too busy."
Lorenzo pulls my hand away from his face and laughs.
Genuinely laughs.

Naz starts to walk out but pauses in the doorway of the den. "A word of advice?"
"Uh, sure."
"Judge him by his actions and not your suspicions," he says. "Because if the only measure of a man's worth is what he does to make money, a lot of good men would be judged unfairly."
"Like you?"
"Not like me," he says. "Not sure how many times I have to tell you ... I'm not a good man, Karissa, and try as I might, I probably never will be.

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, trying to imagine another world again. A world where we're happy, where we're together, where we're away from all of this.
A world without a target on our backs.
A world where Naz comes home.
A world where we can live in peace.
A world that's just ours.

I don't want just bits and pieces of you that I can steal away. I told you - you're worth more than being someone's secret."
"Yeah, well, it's not really a secret anymore," she declared.
"I know it isn't."
She groaned. "Then what, Corrado? What do you want?"
His strong hands cupped both of her cheeks as he leaned down toward her. He stared into her eyes, drinking in the devotion she - for some godforsaken reason - felt toward him. "I'm a greedy man, Celia. I want everything.