Lisa Maxwell Quotes

The only rule that counted was to not get caught.

Welcome to Neverland, Gwendolyn

Are you trying to blackmail me?" she asked.
"Not trying, no. Not yet, at least." He smiled pleasantly, because he had the sense it would irritate her even more. "But give me time, and I might find something I want from you."
She let out a derisive laugh. "In your dreams."
He winked. "Every night, sweetheart.

The boy who chose to play the villain in order to battle a monster who calls himself a hero

Regret was for people who dragged their past along with them everywhere

The captain glares down at me, his lip curled in irritation at my insolence, and something dark, something cold and dangerous, moves behind his eyes. In that moment, I do not doubt him. In that moment, I believe wholeheartedly he is who he claims to be.

They were sitting on opposite sides of the board, playing each other in hopes of gaining the same prize.

Esta rolled down the window, letting the hot breath of summer rustle across her face. With it came the familiar smells of the city, stale and heavy with the metallic choke of exhaust and the ripeness of too many people sharing one tiny piece of land. But it was also enticing - the scent of danger and possibility that lived and breathed in the crowded streets. Dirty and frantic though it was, the city - this city - was home. She'd never wanted to be anywhere else.

Don't start telling yourself stories about me, Esta. I'm not some knight in shining armor. I don't have some hidden heart of gold. I'm a bastard, in every sense of the word."
"Who said I want you to be anything but what you are? I like your angles and your edges," she told him, hoping he could hear the truth in her words. "I have plenty of my own, you know.

He'd go to the theater. People there might eat knives, dance with bears, and shimmy across the stage half-naked, but at least they didn't make him feel insane.

My life was has been a series of poorly timed moves for as long as I can remember. But something about this place has me pausing.

She kept him on his toes every time they met, so it was only fair he got to do the same. Never mind how much he was growing to like their games.

They weren't so different, the two of them. They'd both been abandoned by their parents, but at least she'd had the Professor. He'd seen something in her worth saving, but Harte never had that. She still might not trust him, but she understood him. The drive that made him who he was, the determination to prove himself - the bone-deep need to belong somewhere - those were all things she knew very well. She understood the hurt, too. The fear that there was something intrinsically wrong with you to make the people who were supposed to love you leave. The way that fear either hardened you or destroyed you. It had turned into a sort of armor for her, another weapon in her arsenal, and she suspected the same was true of Harte.

Maybe," he whispers, his mouth against my forehead. "But it's been ages since I've felt as human as you make me feel. I've tried not to want you, but I cant bring myself to stay away.

But then, people usually do miss what's right in front of them.

He wished . . . He didn't know what he wished. That he hadn't seen the intentions behind those honey-colored eyes of hers? That he hadn't predicted her duplicity so easily? Or maybe, stupid as he was, he wished that he could stop himself from the inevitability of hurting her? But wishes were for children, and he'd grown up a long time ago. Only one of them could win this game, and it had to be him.

The past is only as alive as we keep it by remembering.