Ask Again Yes Quotes

not all problems looked the same, but that didn't mean they weren't problems. ~ Mary Beth Keane

And then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes. ~ James Joyce

The cure for competing narratives is nothing more or less than the Apostles' Creed. Yes, I'll say that again: the creed is our story, succinctly stated. ~ Sarah Arthur

I've lost someone, too; someone I loved. I know how you feel."
- Does it get easier?
"Yes. But you'll never be the same again. ~ Richelle Mead

And yes, I came over here fully intending to seduce you." He lifted his head and whispered in my ear, "It's what I'm good at. Just like you're good at evading demons and kicking ass."
"Kicking ass?" I questioned as he dropped his head back to the arm of the couch. His hand was exploring again, and I didn't want to move.
"Yeah," he said, and I jumped as he found a ticklish spot. "I like a woman who takes care of herself."
"Not much of a white knight on a horse, huh?"
He raised one eyebrow. "Oh, I could," he said. "But I'm a lazy son of a bitch. ~ Kim Harrison

Miss Cornelia sighed and Susan groaned. "Yes, he's nice enough if that were all," said the former. "He is VERY nice - and very learned - and very spiritual. But, oh Anne dearie, he has no common sense! "How was it you called him, then?" "Well, there's no doubt he is by far the best preacher we ever had in Glen St. Mary church," said Miss Cornelia, veering a tack or two. "I suppose it is because he is so moony and absent-minded that he never got a town call. His trial sermon was simply wonderful, believe ME. Every one went mad about it - and his looks." "He is VERY comely, Mrs. Dr. dear, and when all is said and done, I DO like to see a well-looking man in the pulpit," broke in Susan, thinking it was time she asserted herself again. ~ L.M. Montgomery

I don't make you sick," he says, tightly controlled fury dripping from every word. "I make you come. I make you beg for it."
"Yes, you had to make me beg for it." I pour all my pent-up loathing and contempt into my hateful glower. "I didn't do it on my own. I never would have. Just kill me and get it over with, you scum-licking pig, because I am Tamara Bennett, and I will end your disgusting life or die trying. I am not Toy, I was never Toy, and I never will be. You fucking failed at breaking me, like you fail at life, you piece of shit."
Instead of answering, he turns and storms out of the room.
As soon as he's out the door, I hear him shouting. No, roaring. An animal sound of pure fury. I hear glass breaking and a door slam repeatedly.
I've made the iceman lose control.
I smile to myself.
I shut my eyes and remember that I'm Tamara again. It feels so good to be Tamara ~ Ginger Talbot

The fifties were far from utopia, but we all know they were significantly happier than today. At this point someone will respond by quoting the ultimate law of life: "Ah, but you can't turn back the clock. You can't go home again. You can't stop progress." Yes, you can. This 'ultimate law' is a lie. ...We can stop this false god Progress. But instead we have stopped real progress. Real progress means getting closer to our goal. And the goal of every human being is happiness. Whatever we do, we do to obtain some kind of happiness. And since we are no longer in "happy days," it logically follows that we have stopped progressing, by the most universal definition of "progress" - progress towards happiness. We have regressed. ~ Peter Kreeft

This is ridiculous. You're bleeding. Don't lie to me, I can smell it. You're hurt. You need a medmage."
"I'm not hurt that badly."
His lips wrinkled, showing his teeth. "How badly do you have to be hurt?"
"There is a right-to-life exemption, which permits us to leave the scene if our injuries are life threatening. We'd have to provide paperwork from a hospital, or a qualified medmage, showing that we had to get treatment or we would've died. My injuries are not life threatening."
"Paperwork is not a problem."
"Yes, but I won't lie."
"How do you know your injuries aren't life threatening? You're covered in the fluid from its guts. How do you know it's not poisonous?"
"If it's poisonous, we'll deal with it when I feel sick."
"Fine. I'll stay here with this thing, and you will drive yourself to the hospital."
"No."
He hit me with an alpha stare.
I opened my eyes as wide as I could. "Why, of course, Your Majesty. What was I thinking? I will go and do this right away, just please don't look at me."
"Kate, get in the car."
"Maybe you should growl dramatically. I don't think I'm intimidated enough."
"I will put you in the car."
"No, you won't. First, it took both of us to kill that thing, and if it reinvents itself again, it will take both of us again. I'm not leaving you alone with it. Second, if you try to physically carry me to the car, I will resist and bleed more. Third, you can possibly stuff me in ~ Ilona Andrews

You'd like Freedom, Truth, and Justice, wouldn't you, Comrade Sergeant?' said Reg encouragingly.
'I'd like a hard-boiled egg,' said Vimes, shaking the match out.
There was some nervous laughter, but Reg looked offended.
'In the circumstances, Sergeant, I think we should set our sights a little higher
'
'Well, yes, we could,' said Vimes, coming down the steps. He glanced at the sheets of papers in front of Reg. The man cared. He really did. And he was serious. He really was. 'But ... well, Reg, tomorrow the sun will come up again, and I'm pretty sure that whatever happens we won't have found Freedom, and there won't be a whole lot of Justice, and I'm damn sure we won't have found Truth. But it's just possible that I might get a hard-boiled egg. ~ Terry Pratchett

Her mother set to with the hairbrush again. "But would that be so awful, darling? To be the prettiest thing in Brimscombe-and-Thrupp?"

"I should rather die."

"You nearly did."

"Yes, but I tend to blame the Germans. ~ Chris Cleave

Will seeing me be a problem?"
While there's this overwhelming voice screaming yes in the back of my mind, there's a smile twisting on my face and I bring my hands together in front of me, feeling suddenly shy. Did he just say ... ? "So we're seeing each other?"
Isaiah touches an earring. "Yeah. I guess we are."
My head bobs back and forth because I so need more. "Like more than friends?"
"We can be friends if you want. But ... "
"But what?" My stomach begins to plummet. Did I misread all of this?
His gray eyes bore into mine with an intensity I've never seen from anyone before. "But I want more."
"More?" I whisper.
"I want to kiss you again. ~ Katie McGarry

Go and tell," I whispered to him. There was little voice left in me, but I whispered it firmly. Then I took the Gospel from the table, the Russian translation, and showed him John, chapter 12, verse 24:
"Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." I had read this verse just before he came.
He read it.
"True," he said, and smiled bitterly. "Yes, in these books," he said, after a pause, one finds all sorts of terrible things. It is easy to shove them under someone's nose. Who wrote them, were they human beings?"
"The Holy Spirit wrote them," I said.
"Its easy for you to babble," he smiled again, but this time almost hatefully. I again took the book, opened it to a different place, and showed him the Epistle to the Hebrews, chapter 10, verse 31. He read: "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."
He read it and threw the book aside. He even began trembling all over.
"A fearful verse," he said. "You picked a good one, I must say. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Oh yes, we're going to brawl, baby. Over you. Again. ~ Lauren Kate

The desert frightens me, I think. It looks too much like the seventh circle of hell. I'm afraid of damnation."

"Why?"

"Why?" Evelyn repeated, peering at Ann from behind her hand. She lay back again and closed her eyes. "I don't know. I've always supposed everyone is."

"Well, they're not. I, for instance, am a hell of a lot more frightened of being saved." Evelyn chuckled.

"I'm serious," Ann protested. "Virtue smells to me of rotting vegetation. Here you burn or freeze. Either way it's clean."

"Sterile," Evelyn said and felt the word a laceration of her own flesh. "I wonder. It's fertility that's a dirty word for me."

"Is it?"

"Yes, I'm terrified of giving in, of justifying my own existence by means of simple reproduction. So many people do or try to. And there are the children, so unfulfilling after all. And they grow up to do nothing but reproduce children who will reproduce, everyone so busy reproducing that there's no time to produce anything. But it's such a temptation. It seems so natural - another dirty word for me. What's the point?"

"You'd have the human race die out?"

"No. We'll multiply in spite of ourselves always. We'll populate the desert. One day there will be little houses and docks all along this shore, signs of our salvation."

"What would you have us do instead?" Evelyn asked.

"Accept damnation," Ann said. "It has its power and ~ Jane Rule

Men hate to lose. I once beat my husband at tennis. I asked him, "Are we going to have sex again?" He said, "Yes, but not with each other." ~ Rita Rudner

On my mental instant replay, I realized that obliquely comparing his family to the Nazis was maybe not my finest moment.
He was quiet a second, and then he said, 'Did you know that Hitler anted to be an artist, but since he couldn't get into art school, he turned into a Nazi?'
'Yes, I remember that.'
'Just imagine if he got into art school, the whole world would be different.'
I said, 'It just shows that people should be allowed to be who they are. If they can't, then they turn into nasty, sad people.'
He started to laugh. 'What if you went to the art gallery, and the guy was like, "Here you see a beautiful Monet, and here on your left is an early Hitler." Wouldn't that be weird?'
I couldn't think of any subtle way to turn it back around again.
He said, 'You would go to the gift shop and buy Hitler postcards, and you'd go, "Oh, look at this beautiful Hitler. I'm going to hang it in my room!" And people would wear Hitler t-shirts.'
'Yes,' I said. 'That would have been better. ~ Rebecca Makkai

How wrong to have been so negative, how wrong to have been so gloomy, how wrong to have run away from life, how wrong to have said no, again and again, instead of yes. ~ Jonathan Franzen

Yes I value strong friendships on a very deep level, I value these connections because time and time again i will go through heartbreak, I will forget my self worth, I will make mistakes and my world will feel broken beyond repair and to have these special people in your life that will be there to help you pick up the pieces and remind you what makes you special and worth being alive is the most amazing feeling in the world and I would never trade that for anything. ~ John Maiorana (oohGiovanni)

She had the look of someone who'd declared herself, and seeing it, my indignation collapsed and her mutinous bath turned into something else entirely. She'd immersed herself in forbidden privileges, yes, but mostly in the belief she was worthy of those privileges. What she'd done was not a revolt, it was a baptism. I saw then what I hadn't seen before, that I was very good at despising slavery in the abstract, in the removed and anonymous masses, but in the concrete, intimate flesh of the girl beside me, I'd lost the ability to be repulsed by it. I'd grown comfortable with the particulars of evil. There's a frightful muteness that dwells at the center of all unspeakable things, and I had found my way into it. As Handful began to shove the vessel back across the piazza, I tried to speak. ". . . . . . Wait. . . . . . I'll. . . . . . help . . ." She turned and looked at me, and we both knew. My tongue would once again attempt its suicide. ~ Sue Monk Kidd

Now and again there's a moment,
when the heart cries aloud:
yes, I am willing to be
that wild darkness,
that long, blue body of light. ~ Mary Oliver

Be spontaneous! When was the last time you did something completely out of character? You have to open yourself to trying new things, especially those that you may previously never have thought of doing, or had been too hesitant to attempt. This is how you open doors of opportunity for positive growth. When we try new experiences, we allow ourselves to feel again. Everything in life can't be planned. Sometimes you just need to let your hair down and live in the moment. Being spontaneous will keep your life interesting and exciting. So instead of saying no, start saying yes! ~ Anonymous

Three days later, Mrs. Dalloway was in the hall, blocking the classroom door. 'Hi there, Dick. Are you prone to seizures?'
'Uh, no.'
Thirty minutes later I was wishing I'd said 'Uh, yes,' because then she's have had to turn off the strobe light. Then again, it might not have made a difference; the loud electronic music and Mrs. D's yelling probably would have been enough to do me in anyway. ~ Mindi Scott

My thoughts on the descent of our moral prejudices – for that is what this polemic is about – were first set out in a sketchy and provisional way in the collection of aphorisms entitled Human, All Too Human. A Book for Free Spirits, which I began to write in Sorrento during a winter that enabled me to pause, like a wanderer pauses, to take in the vast and dangerous land through which my mind had hitherto travelled. This was in the winter of 1876–7; the thoughts themselves go back further. They were mainly the same thoughts which I shall be taking up again in the present essays – let us hope that the long interval has done them good, that they have become riper, brighter, stronger and more perfect! The fact that I still stick to them today, and that they themselves in the meantime have stuck together increasingly firmly, even growing into one another and growing into one, makes me all the more blithely confident that from the first, they did not arise in me individually, randomly or sporadically but as stemming from a single root, from a fundamental will to knowledge deep inside me which took control, speaking more and more clearly and making ever clearer demands. And this is the only thing proper for a philosopher. We have no right to stand out individually: we must not either make mistakes or hit on the truth individually. Instead, our thoughts, values, every 'yes', 'no', 'if ' and 'but' grow from us with the same inevitability as fruits borne on the tree – all related and r ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

I ordered a club sandwich, but I'm not even a member. "I like my sandwiches with three pieces of bread." "Well, so do I!" "Then let's form a club." "OK, but we need some more stipulations. Instead of cutting the sandwich once, let's cut it again. Yes, four triangles, arranged in a circle, and in the middle we will dump chips." "How do you feel about frilly toothpicks?" "I'm for 'em!" "Well, this club is formed." ~ Mitch Hedberg

He sat down. I sat down next to him. And after a silence, he spoke again. 'The stars are beautiful because of a flower you don't see ... '
I answered, 'Yes, of course. ~ Antoine De Saint Exupery

That's when Eena cut in. Both Ravelly and Unan looked to her as she announced, "My favorite part of the book is at the very end."

"Where Imorih battles the three-headed dragon," Unan presumed.

Eena shook her head. "Nope."

"Afterwards, where Imorih befriends the beast and earns his trust," Ravelly guessed.

Eena shook her head again. "No, sir. I mean the very end."

Unan's brow crinkled as he tried to recall what came next in the story. "Where she finds her prince who was held captive by none other than the same three-headed dragon?"

The young Sha shook her head a third time.

"I know! When the dragon flies them on his back to the edge of their homeland! That would be quite the experience, wouldn't it?" Ravelly seemed certain he had guessed the finishing act of the story.

"That's not the very, very end," Eena grinned.

"But that's the last page," Unan contended, his finger pointing at the final leaf in the book.

Wahlister was the one who finally guessed the correct answer. "They kiss on the dragon's back at the very end. That's where they promise to never allow anything, even death, to separate them again."

"Yes!" Eena chirped. "That's the best scene of all."

"I don't recall that promise," Ravelly admitted.

Unan assured the old Grott, "It's right here." He read the line that told of a promise made sure by a kiss. "Their lips sealed the whi ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

And when she at last came out, her eyes were dry. Her parents stared up from their silent breakfast at her. They both started to rise but she put a hand out, stopped them. 'I can care for myself, please,' and she set about getting some food. They watched her closely.
In point of fact, she had never looked as well. She had entered her room as just an impossibly lovely girl. The woman who emerged was a trifle thinner, a great deal wiser, and an ocean sadder. This one understood the nature of pain, and beneath the glory of her features, there was character, and a sure knowledge of suffering.
She was eighteen. She was the most beautiful woman in a hundred years. She didn't seem to care.
'You're all right?' her mother asked.
Buttercup sipped her cocoa. 'Fine,' she said.
'You're sure?' her father wondered.
'Yes,' Buttercup replied. There was a very long pause. 'But I must never love again.'

She never did. ~ William Goldman

He was like a worn small rock whelmed by the successive waves of his voice. With his body he seemed to feed that voice that, succubus like, had fleshed its teeth in him. And the congregation seemed to watch with its own eyes while the voice consumed him, until he was nothing and they were nothing and there was not even a voice but instead their hearts were speaking to one another in chanting measures beyond the need for words, so that when he came to rest again against the reading desk, his monkey face lifted and his whole attitude that of a serene, tortured crucifix that transcended its shabbiness and insignificance and made it of no moment, a long moaning expulsion of breath rose from them, and a woman's - woman's single soprano: Yes, Jesus! ~ William Faulkner

I would have done anything for him. But these days, I don't want to do anything. I don't want to get drunk or go to a wild party or make out with random boys-not that I've ever wanted to. I don't want to watch chick flicks or eat ice cream or get a haircut or buy out half of the mall. I don't want cold, cruel revenge. I don't want to see him suffer when karma catches up with him and kick his ass. I don't even want to talk to him right now, simply because it would be awkward and pathetic and I wouldn't know what to say to him. Yes, there is self-control, preventing me from being stupid and acting like a desperate doofus in the manner most heartbroken people do. But there is also a weary numbness threatening to consume every inch of me: Isn't there a way for me to skip straight to the part where I'm fine again? ~ Marla Miniano

Why are you here?" My voice sounded breathless.
As if it should've been obvious, Cole said, "I came here to offer you eternal life.Again."
I pushed him away from him. "I already made my choice."
"Yes,but it's obviously the wrong choice. Return with me. To the Everneath. And we'll live in the High Court. And you won't be a battery in the Tunnels. You could be a queen."
"The Everneath has a High Court?"
"Of course.It's where Osiris and Isis ruled.Hades and Persephone.Every realm in every dimension has people who give orders and people who take orders. And I'm tired of taking orders,Nick."
I grimaced. "That has nothing to do with me."
He paused and let out a little sigh. "Then I'm saying it wrong,beause it has everything to do with you. I want what Hades and Persephone had, and I can't do it without you.The only time the queen of the Everneath has been overthrown is when an Everliving has found his perfect match. I've spent my whole life-and it's a long one,trust me-looking for my perfect match,and it's you. I knew you were different from the first moment I met you.The first moment you placed your hands on mine.You remember?"
I nodded. It had been the night we first met.
"Your cheeks turned red,and I was gone for you." He shook his head,and his lips quirked up in a smile. "I know you felt it too.The connection between us. It started even before the Feed."
I looked away,because my cheeks were getting warm thinking about it, and I ~ Brodi Ashton

Somehow, perhaps because of the way he spoke in a manner reminiscent of Jack Bauer from 24, Lara calmed down. She repeated his words in her head. Wait. Assess. Intel. Yes, OK, that sounded sensible.
Then the hysterical coward in her reared up unannounced and she tried to run for the door again. ~ Lola Salt

Alec tugged at the front of Max's sailor suit. "That's a lot of ribbons there, buddy." Max nodded sadly. "Too much ribbons." "What happened to your sweater?" "That's a fine question, Alexander. Allow me to unfold to you the tale. Max rolled his sweater in the cat litter," Magnus related. "So he could 'look like Daddy.' Thus he must wear the sailor suit of shame. I don't make the rules. Oh, wait, yes, I do." He waved a reproving finger at Max, who laughed again and tried to grab for the glitter of rings. ~ Cassandra Clare

Yes", she said her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's exactly what I'm saying, in fact let's try sex again." She leaped to her feet and torn open her jeans. "Maybe my magic vagina will cure you of all the traumatic acts my family has inflected on you. ~ Larissa Ione

I take it you didn't get the permits ... again. (Brian)
What was your first clue? (Geary)
Oh, I don't know. That stomping stance as you walked down the street, clenching and unclenching your fists like you're already choking someone, or maybe it's that way you're looking at me like you could claw out my eyes when I haven't done anything to piss you off. (Brian)
Yes, you have. (Geary)
And that is? (Brian)
You don't have a gun. (Geary) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

wife like that again, or you will have to find employment someplace else." He paused and then decided to drive the knife in deeper. "Without a recommendation from me, at that. Addressing Zoe in such a fashion is not professional, and it won't be tolerated. You understand?" "Yes, I understand." She looked like she was about to cry when she went out of the door. I giggled with delight; that's what the bitch deserved. I had my secretary bring all the important papers that couldn't wait over to the house for me as well. Fortunately, Shane and I had no beef, so her visits ~ Zane

Thank you," she whispered. "I promise I will not interfere in Court business again."
"Oh yes, you will."
Zouelle looked up to see her uncle regarding her with a sad little smile.
"You decided that you were ready to start meddling in the great game. I really hope you were right, Zouelle, because once you start playing it you can never leave. You are in the game now, my dear. There is no going back. ~ Frances Hardinge

Barabbas ("Son of the Father") is a kind of Messianic figure. Two interpretations of Messianic hope are juxtaposed here in the offer of the Passover amnesty. In terms of Roman law, it is a case of two criminals convicted of the same offense - two rebels against the Pax Romana. It is clear that Pilate prefers the nonviolent "fanatic" that he sees in Jesus. Yet the crowd and the Temple authorities have different categories. If the Temple aristocracy felt constrained to declare: "We have no king but Caesar" (Jn 19:15), this only appears to be a renunciation of Israel's Messianic hope: "We do not want this king" is what they mean. They would like to see a different solution to the problem. Again and again, mankind will be faced with this same choice: to say yes to the God who works only through the power of truth and love, or to build on something tangible and concrete - on violence. Jesus ~ Pope Benedict XVI

Furi reached between them and gripped Syn's balls and tugged on them making him grunt at the ache. "Shit! More," Syn grumbled. "Fuck," Furi moaned. It always turned him on when Syn begged him. Furi dipped low and took both his hands and cupped Syn's balls and his cock applying ample pressure to both of them. He squeezed the head of Syn's cock and simultaneously tugged his balls. Syn rose up on his toes and bucked his hips seeking more sweet torture. Furi's cock was rising again. He nuzzled the side of Syn's neck and licked a warm path to his ear. He pressed his lips firmly to the shell, whispering hoarsely, "Fuckin' pain slut. Gonna give you all you can take this weekend." Furi ran his tongue to Syn's open mouth, his breath panting across Furi's face while he breathed through the throb in his balls. "Please," Syn whimpered. Holy hell. How'd I get this damn lucky? "Yes. ~ A.E. Via