Tiffany Reisz Quotes

A cello on a winter night in the midst of a frozen city - that was what his voice sounded like.

Tell me, have you ever had sex in the back of a Rolls Royce? -Kingsley

You have always been my only muse. I cannot paint or sculpt. I have only my words to render your likeness. Sometimes I wish I were both God and Adam so I could tear out my rib and create you from my own flesh. I would say I'd create you from my heart, but I gave that to you when you left me. But that's a cliché, isn't it? Sadly, that's all I have these days. The whole story is a cliché. I desired you. I ate of you. I lost you. That ancient story – older than the Garden, old as the Snake. I would have liked to call this story of ours The Temptation but the word temptation, once the province of pious theologians, has now been co-opted by every third second-rate romance novelist. And although I loved you, my beautiful girl, this is not a romance novel.

You have the chance right now to accept your son. I'm not talking about 'tolerating' him. Tolerance is a slap in the face. You tolerate your noisy neighbors. You love your son. You love him, you accept him, you cheer him on, and you don't judge him for one second.

Alfred, I need ice and that vitamin K goop. To the nursery. Stat."
"I loathe you, Master Griffin," came a British accent over the intercom.
"Thanks, Alfred," Griffin answered and came back to the bed.
"Is your butler's name really Alfred?"
"No. It's Jamison, I think. Can't remember. I changed it to Alfred years ago. My first crush on a dude was Batman ...

This is a new life I'm living. I am reborn. And all babies cry when they're born.

A love story is not the same as a romance novel. A romance novel is the story of two people falling in love against their will. This is a story of two people who leave each other against their will. It starts to end the minute they meet.

It's good to live in the past. It's sexier here

She left him alone by never speaking unless he spoke to her first, never asking him questions, never extending the conversation, letting it die instead. He

Love versus love. King, you're comparing infinities. There is no 'more.' That's not how love works. If it's love, it's infinite. You can't count it.

Hope is a bright light on a dark night. If your hope is guiding you into this shore, then this is where you should drop anchor.

I'll come back," she promised. "I'll always come back to you."
"I know," he said with cold, calm arrogance. "If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't let you go."
"Believe it. It's true." She took a step back. Then another. "Always."
"Eleanor, if you have any mercy in that dark heart of yours, when you leave right now, you will
walk and not run."
...
crawl and she didn't fly.
She ran. Down the hall she ran as if the hounds of hell nipped at her heels. She ran as if God
himself had ordered her to. She ran as if her life depended on it and in that moment she might
have sworn that it did.
She didn't know why she ran. She didn't know who or what waited for her in the White Room.
She only knew she had to get there as fast as she could and whoever it was, he was worth
running to.

You're white. You're straight. You're well educated, healthy and beautiful. Every time is for people like you.

Kingsley turned his attention back to her.
"Why do you have your clothes on?"
"Was I supposed to take them off?"
"I've never heard a stupider question in my life.

He saved up her pain, counted it like currency and the more pain she endured, the more pleasure she could buy with it.

He'd stolen his philosophy of editing from the old New Critics - it's just about the book. Not the author, not the market, not the reader ... one judged a book only by the book.

I hate to tell you this," she said with an apologetic smile, "but I don't think you're as special as you think you are."
"That only hurts because it's true. You really like me? A little?"
"Un peu. Enough that I want to talk to you instead of letting me fuck you," she said.
"Oh," he said, and weighed his words. "But we are still going to fuck, right?"
Juliette smiled again. And in her flawless elegant Frenchy she purred two beautiful words.
"Bien sur."
Of course.

Adrift and unmoored, she had tried again and again to throw him a rope to save him from the raging waters. And now he no longer felt like a drowning man at sea. Nora ... the siren and the goddess, the ship and the wine-dark sea. She would either save him or end him.

No flirting, wicked girl. I know I'm your type." "I can't help it," she said. "I spread for Roman collars. What

You mind-fucked me."
"Does your brain hurt? I tried to be gentle since it was your first time.

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You won't trick me that easily into drinking your tea of concupiscence, Miss Ashby.

You should have seen it. Women were all over him. Nora and Juliette had to beat them off with a stick. I'm not kidding. Juliette picked up a stick and hit a girl with it, but the chick was a bisexual pain slut so it only made things worse.

Love is never a sin. If it's a sin it's not love. And if it's love it's not a sin.

If you come back to me," he said, making a rare concession, "will you run or crawl?"
Nora had pressed her whole body into him at that moment. Resting her head on his strong shoulder, she watched as a tear forged a river down his long and muscled back.
"I'll fly.

If I came back to you, you would take from me. You would take Nora from me, and I just found her. I'm not giving me up for you. I can't sacrifice so much of myself that there's nothing left to give back to you."
"You promised me forever, Eleanor."
"You can't give me everything any more than I can give you forever."
"I can give you everything. Whatever it takes, I will keep my promise to you.

Yes, there was a nun in my bed," Nora said with a sigh.
"This is my favourite story already," Kingsley said. "Go on.

Can I take a moment here to tell you both how cute your accents are when you're angry?"
Wesley and his father both looked at her, Wesley in shock, his father in disgust.
"Okay, that's a 'no' then. Carry on.

Words are the thread in the fabric of the universe.

In all things involving Nora Sutherlin, proceed with caution.

And for a woman who'd been in mourning for four straight years, Faye knew "almost okay" was as good as it was probably ever going to get. But she would take it.

I'm so in love with him I can't even think straight. Which is fine since obviously I'm not straight. And neither is he.

You belong here, and it's time you realize it. No one put a Scarlet A on your chest. This church is for human beings, not saints and angels.

The pianist smiled at him, a smile of amusement with only the barest hint of apology. And not the least bit of shame. Fuck.
No ... not that. Anything but that . Whatever hope had been in Kingsley's heart a second earlier shattered and died like the last stray note of a symphony. The old love, the old desire coursed through his veins and into his heart, and there was no stopping it. He met the blond pianist's eyes - the priest's eyes - and released the breath he'd forgotten he'd been holding.
"Mon Dieu ... "
My God.

Oh, fuck. Those kinds of tests. I wish I could empathize, but the only disease lesbians get from sex is lockjaw.

A man says things in an excited state that he repents of in his tranquillity." "You're

He'd taken a wrong turn somewhere and found himself wandering the back alleys of hell.

Can I call you Mick? Michael's too formal. I'm not formal. You're lucky I've even got pants on today.

Excuse me," Zach began, trying to regain control of this conversation, "but didn't I repeatedly insult you this morning?"
"Your kvetching was very fetching. I like men who are mean to me. I trust them more." -Zach to Nora

No two people in history had Kingsley and Nora's history. With everything they'd put each other through, they'd had two choices – hate each other or love each other. They were so much alike, hating each other would have been like hating themselves. And both of them were rather too self-important for that sort of nonsense.
So they picked love.

Doesn't help that you're like the hottest priest on the planet."
Soren looked sharply at her. Eleanor went pale.
"I said that out loud."
"Should I pretend I didn't hear it?

And she was hers. But she was his too, and always would be.

There are only two reasons why you leave someone you're still in love with - either it's the right thing to do, or it's the only thing to do.

You looked at her like you looked at the moonlight through those windows. You looked at her like you'd just found another reason to believe in God.

The true story behind the legend is so much better."
"It always is.

Fetishes ... they're the pet you feed or the beast that eats you. We'll feed your beast until it's tamed.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been…"
"Eight days," Søren supplied. "Eight days since my last confession. Let's see… where to start?"
"Pace yourself, Eleanor. If you forget something, I will remind you.

I became obsessed with the one question-when was it, when were we, irrevocable? When did all the little tumblers fall into place and our fate was locked in and it became impossible for us to be anything other than what we became? When was the guilty moment?

She'd loved and she'd lost and as she lay in the bed of a man who didn't love her any more than she loved him, she would have sold her soul to not have done either. "Faye?

You read the Miss Bea Haven column?" She sounded pleasantly surprised, almost flattered.
"Of course not. A column where the sexiest woman on earth pleasures herself with sex toys and then writes about it? Gross.

Selfish is the name the jealous give to the free.

When you love someone, you sometimes make choices you don't want to make. You do things to help them that you wish you didn't have to do...

This was our house. Mine and hers. I know she'd sneak over to the rectory every once in a while and let you wail on her for a night. But I got her the rest of the time. I cooked her breakfast. I answered her fan mail. I put her to bed when she fell asleep at her desk writing. I rubbed her back when she was sore from overworking herself. And when she got all wrought up over you, it was me she cried on. No, she and I never had sex. That's true. But we had love, real love that didn't take anything out of us, that didn't bruise us or break us. I loved her without hurting her. You asked me if I, a virgin, could teach her what sex should be? No, course not. Hell no. But at least I can teach her what love should be like. And she knows it too.

You're much more beautiful now than you were back in school, and you were tres jolie back in your school days. No wonder Professor Easton deflowered you on his desk. Although had it been me, it would have been the desk, the floor, the wall, back on the desk but from behind ...

If only there were more yesterdays instead of so many todays.

You're a Catholic priest. Aren't you all drunks?"
"If I wasn't before, being back in your life might drive me to drink. Between you and Eleanor it's a miracle I'm even lucid."
Kingsley pointed at him. "I take that as a compliment."
"You would.

I did what I always do when I meet a beautiful woman," Kingsley said with a shrug. "I fucked her.

Don't make me laugh. You begged for it. Night after night, you begged for it."
"Of course I did. Pain is the only way you know how to show love."
"It's not the only way I know how to show love. It's the only way I chose to with you.

If you keep acting like a big baby, I will shoot you. I've never known a man so in love with his hair before. "

"I'm in love with all of me. I'm a very lovable pervert."

"Well, you're going to be a very sexy pervert when I'm done with you. Now hold still.

Your mind must be the most marvelous playground." "I think my mental swing sets are rusty.

I know that love is giving yourself to someone else. Giving yourself to someone without losing yourself

We can only sacrifice so much of ourselves in a relationship before there's nothing left to love or be loved.

I gave him my death as a gift. And now I'm taking it back.

Let go with me. Let me comfort you with my body ... there's no shame in forgetting for a night even if you know you'll remember in the morning.

She'll be in a better mood once we're done with her.

Chess teaches that actions have consequences and the wise man - or woman - will always look to the endgame ...

I foresee a miracle occurring in the future."
"Which is?"
"You," Kingsley said as the team gathered on the sideline. "Being humbled."
"And what makes you say that?" Søren asked, sounding both imperious and sceptical.
Kingsley only smiled on and said three words.
"I met Eleanor.

You do realize Kingsley is forty-five, yes?" "I told them," Nora said. "Age is only a number," Angie said. "So is sixty-nine," Maxine said.

You are my heart," he said. He'd said those very words to her that morning. But that morning, they'd sounded affectionate and playful. Now he said them as if he were stating a fact of anatomy. "I will not lose you. I'm sending you away to keep you safe. Do you understand? Say 'Yes, sir.'"
Nora nodded and swallowed a sudden lump in her throat.
"Yes, sir."
Soren bent his head and kissed her long and slow before pulling back.

It's medieval," Marcus said. "You might as well walk down the street in a suit of armor.

A Bible-quoting erotica writer--you are quite the oxymoron.

Your capacity for self-justification and rationalization." "If it were an Olympic sport, I'd medal.

If he wasn't in a meeting he was in a beating.

You're not a normal priest, are you?'
He gave her a smile that hit her like a slap to the face and a kiss on the mouth all at once.
'My God, I hope not.

His name is Spanks for Nothing. It's destiny. We belong together. -Nora

You know I don't mind sloppy seconds. And knowing Pope Whatadick, he probably blesses is cum before he blows it

I have nothing in me that you cannot break. I would let you destroy me, and then I would resurrect myself from my own ashes for the honor of being destroyed by you again.

I really shouldn't leave," Zach said, terrified what would happen the second he found himself alone with Nora.
"Come on, Zach. This party sucks and not in the good way. I've had pap smears more fun than this."
Zach covered a laugh with a cough.
"I must admit you do have a way with words.

Instead of wooden floors, she found lush green grass under her feet. Instead of a ceiling, she saw a hazy blue sky. And instead of walls, she saw a silver stream through the trees. The day was halcyon. It looked like someone's memory of a perfect day.

Once upon a time," Nora said, as she fluttered a series of kisses over his shoulders that sent every nerve in his body reeling, "a very poor girl from a fucked-up family became a famous writer with a wicked pen and an even more wicked tongue who made seven figures a year. And she went everywhere she wanted to and did everything she wanted to. And nobody ever tried to stop her. And she had her own pet Angel who needed to learn how to talk. So guess what she did?"
"What?" Michael asked. He laughed in surprise as Nora slammed him down onto his back and slid on top of him. She brought her mouth onto his and forced his lips apart.
"She gave him her tongue.

We made a deal. I can top, but not bottom."
"Are you secretly a gay man?" Zachary eyed her curiously.

How do you give someone the best pain of their life without touching them?"
Kingsley raised the cigarette to his lips again. He heard a snapping sound, and the cigarette no longer held a flame. For a long time he looked at his cigarette before slowly turning his head toward Søren who held a bullwhip in his hand. Casually Søren coiled it.
Cigarette lit.
Bullwhip snap.
Cigarette not lit anymore.
He held the stub in his hand split in two.
"Any other questions?" Søren asked with an arrogant lift of his eyebrow.

I'd rather see you dead than let him touch you the way he touches me.

I don't believe in ghosts and neither should you, Kingsley."
"Why not? I've been in love with a ghost for thirty years."
Kingsley strolled over to the armchair and sat on the ottoman between the other man's knees. Soren narrowed his eyes at him.
"The body's not even cold yet. Eleanor's been gone one day and you're already trying to get me into bed again?"
"Again?" Kingsley laughed and rolled his eyes. "Always. Are you surprised?"
Soren shrugged. "Not really.

Simple game - he'd fill a wineglass with one of his expensive reds and set it on the edge of the table. Then he would fuck me. Hard." Nora grinned as Wesley flinched. "If I thrashed too much, or fought him and knocked the glass off ... then the wine wasn't the only red that we spilled that night.

I think a gentleman respects women and doesn't pretend to know better than his lady what is good or bad for her. I think a gentleman is brave enough to eschew the silly rules society tries to enforce on women. I think a gentleman tells the world to mind its own business and concerns himself only with what he and the lady in his life want to do together in private.

But happiness is good health and a bad memory they say, and I am a happy, happy man.

Good," Kingsley said. "Now let's build a kingdom.

If you choose, Little One ... I can own you. You would be my property. mine alone.

We had a priest like you when I was a girl," she said. "We called him Father What-A-Waste.

Kink is only sexy when done between consenting adults," Nora said. "So don't do any kink until you're at least eighteen. No, twenty-one. Thirty. Thirty's a good age to start. And do your homework. And stay in school. And don't do drugs. God, I'm a hypocrite. Someone find me my beer. Please.

What isn't a risk? Birth comes with a death sentence. Every breath I take could be my last.

Hope and perseverance - that's what I learned from books.

Her brain felt like a horse on a carousel, always moving but going nowhere.

Are you sure you can't tell me where you're going?"
"Quite sure. I will say this – I wish I could take you with me."
She smiled. Finally some of the tension started to leave her body.
"Me too. I'd go anywhere with you."
Soren met her eyes for the first time that night and gave her the faintest of smiles.
"Don't worry. Someday you will.

Love is an open wound that you hope never heals.

The lies kinky people tell vanilla people.

When you hear music so beautiful it gives you chills, those are angel wings brushing against you.

Don't be afraid" he whispered against her lips "This life is nothing but one blink of God's eyes. He'll blink again, and we'll be back together

Kingsley, Griffin and Soren all wore kilts.

Do you ever just want to beat the hell out of the woman?" Suzanne asked. Father Stearns released a heavy, much put-upon sigh. "Every day of my life.