Bad Boy Angel Quotes

Today I am revealing the exciting new book by Author Maggie Carpenter. Stay tuned, because it will be on here soon! ~ Maggie Carpenter

The man gave her an eyegasm every time she glanced at him. ~ Terri L. Austin

He's got the whole bad-boy-in-need-of-redemption thing going on, but the catch is, most bad boys don't want redemption. They like being bad. They like the power they get from striking fear and panic into the hearts of mothers everywhere ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Books were an antidepressant, a powerful SSRI. She'd always been one of those girls with socked feet tucked under her, her mouth slightly open in stunned, almost doped-up concentration. All written words danced in a chain for her, creating corresponding images as clear as the boy from Iran's bouncing family. She had learned to read before kindergarten, when she'd first suspected that her parents weren't all that interested in her. Then she'd kept going, plowing through children's books with their predictable anthropomorphism, heading eventually into the strange and beautiful formality of the nineteenth century, and pushing backward and forward into histories of bloody wars, into discussions of God and godlessness. What she responded to most powerfully, sometimes even physically, were novels. Once Greer read Anna Karenina for such a long, unbroken bout that her eyes grew strained and bloodshot, and she had to lie in bed with a washcloth over them as if she herself were a literary heroine from the past. Novels had accompanied her throughout her childhood, that period of protracted isolation, and they would probably do so during whatever lay ahead in adulthood. Regardless of how bad it got at Ryland, she knew that at least she would able to read there, because this was college, and reading was what you did. ~ Meg Wolitzer

And I guess, at the end of the day, when you fall in love with a bad boy, you can't really be mad when they end up doing bad things to you. ~ Jessica Gadziala

As a boy, when I was bad, my mother would chew me out in Spanish. And since I was bad a lot, I learned a lot of Spanish! ~ John Sununu

I'll come some day," he said. "But women, my boy, they're the pivot everything turns upon. Things are in a bad way with me, very bad. And it's all through women. Tell me frankly now," he pursued, picking up a cigar and keeping one hand on his glass; "give me your advice. ~ Leo Tolstoy

Wow," he muttered, his voice choked with tears. "Here we are, the last night and all, and I can't think of anything to say."
I pressed my palm to his cheek, feeling the moisture beneath my fingers, and smiled at him. "How about 'goodbye'?"
"Nah." Puck shook his head. "I make a point of never saying goodbye, princess. Makes it sound like you're never coming back."
"Puck - "
He bent down and kissed me softly on the lips. Ash stiffened, arms tightening around me, but Puck slid out of reach before either of us could react. "Take care of her, ice-boy," he said, smiling as he backed up several paces. "I guess I won't be seeing you, either, will I? It was ... fun, while it lasted."
"I'm sorry we didn't get to kill each other," Ash said quietly.
Puck chuckled and bent to retrieve his fallen dagger. "My one and only regret. Too bad, that would have been an epic fight." Straightening, he gave us that old, stupid grin, raising a hand in farewell. "See you around, lovebirds. ~ Julie Kagawa

You wanna know if I'm religious? I sure haven't made a dent in the pew, but boy do I thank God. For ever morning I get to wake up and my coffee's hot and your mom's right there next to me at the breakfast table. I thank God I get to work this ranch for a living instead of having to put on a necktie and commute to some office. I get to smell sage and pinon instead of traffic exhaust. Somebody or something made a beautiful place in this ugly world, and saw fit to put me right in the middle of it. Now, whether there's some old fella with a beard floating on a cloud up there or just some...cosmic energy or whatnot, I got no idea. But whatever God is, wherever He lives, I thank Him because, I tell you what, I can look back on every minute of it, good and bad, and I can tell you that I've had one hell of a life. Pardon my French" -Walter ~ Meagan Brothers

Beauty like hers had no place in his life. ~ Kelly Moran

Technicality," Shiro said. "The cigars?" "My Christianity," Shiro said. "When I was a boy, I liked Elvis. Had a chance to see him in concert when we moved to California. It was a big revival meeting. There was Elvis and then a speaker and my English was not so good. He invited people backstage to meet the king. Thought he meant Elvis, so I go backstage." He sighed. "Found out later I had become a Baptist." I barked out a laugh. "You're kidding." "No. But it was done, so I tried not to be too bad at being Baptist. ~ Jim Butcher

The description of Huck's father grabbed my full attention, and I glanced up at the book in my teacher's hand as if to double check. My eyes bulged reflexively. Huck's father was an abusive drunk just like mine. The boy was hopeful that a corpse found near the river was actually his dad, but it turned out not to be. It was spooky how high my hopes rose for the boy, and then sank so utterly low when the body was discovered to be a female in disguise. I should've mourned for the woman, but it was the boy I felt bad for. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

Pray, what's the nature of his trouble?" Prudence asked solicitously.
"Oh, cursed bad news, my boy. That old aunt of his from whom he has expectations has rallied, and they say she'll last another ten years. Poor old Devereux, y'know! Must try and raise his spirits. ~ Georgette Heyer

I always hoped I'd be the one to tame the bad boy. It's a stupid girly thing, the universal belief in vagina magic where men change after having some. ~ Milana Jacks

Boy I could do this forever; I truly enjoy bad guys. ~ Jonathan Banks

Almost all of my early art dealt with the fallout from middle-class taboos, the messy, the ambivalent emotions couples felt, the inherent racism, the sexual tensions and the unhappiness roiling below the surface of our prim suburban lives. Meanwhile I was a suburban bad boy - cynical, sarcastic, contemptuous of all authority. ~ Eric Fischl

I'm really a pussycat and this [bad-boy] image has been totally overblown for 30 years. Sure, I used to rumble a little but I don't do that stuff anymore. I'm an old man now. When you reach your 50s, you realise that if you don't mellow, you won't last. ~ George C. Scott

How do you know about Boy George? (Jesse)
I was in hell, Jesse. What do you think they used to torture me with? Bad pop songs. (Xypher) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

I think there's a lot of, unfortunately, unfunny ventriloquists out there, so they've got a bad rap. It came after Edgar Bergen because everybody had a little cheeky boy dummy like Charlie McCarthy, and everybody decided to become a ventriloquist because Bergen had popularized it. He brought it back from the doldrums of vaudeville. ~ Jeff Dunham

Byron published the first two cantos of his epic poem Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, a romanticized account of his wanderings through Portugal, Malta, and Greece, and, as he later remarked, "awoke one morning and found myself famous." Beautiful, seductive, troubled, brooding, and sexually adventurous, he was living the life of a Byronic hero while creating the archetype in his poetry. He became the toast of literary London and was feted at three parties each day, most memorably a lavish morning dance hosted by Lady Caroline Lamb. Lady Caroline, though married to a politically powerful aristocrat who was later prime minister, fell madly in love with Byron. He thought she was "too thin," yet she had an unconventional sexual ambiguity (she liked to dress as a page boy) that he found enticing. They had a turbulent affair, and after it ended she stalked him obsessively. She famously declared him to be "mad, bad, and dangerous to know," which he was. So was she. ~ Walter Isaacson

The biggest misconception about me is the bad-boy image that everyone stuck me into due to my tattoos, drug days and the constant changes I make with my hair color. ~ A. J. McLean

I was reading Raymond Chandler very much with the feminist eye. In six of his seven novels, it's the woman who presents herself in a sexual way, who is the main bad person. And then you start reading more fiction, whether crime fiction or straight fiction, it's just bad girls trying to make good boys do bad things, going all the way back to Adam and Eve. The woman that thou gavest me made me do it, Adam says to God. ~ Sara Paretsky

This isn't a game, human. Listen to the Skotos and go. We're not bound by the laws of the Oneroi. Killing humans is nothing for us. (Dolophoni)
Well, aren't you all scary in black. Ooo. What are you two masquerading as? Evil Man and his trusty sidekick Bad Boy? (Geary) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Archer Cross, resident bad boy and total heartthrob. Warlock. Every girl here is at least, like, half in love with him. Crushing on Archer Cross might as well be a class. ~ Rachel Hawkins

If you're having a bad hair day or a bad boy day, he'll whip up one of his yummy mango smoothies for you, sit you down, and say, "Little one, remember what's really important in life: a family that loves you, good friends, and not putting too much garlic in the pesto."
- Chloe Carlson ~ Nancy Butcher

You're not so bad-looking yourself. A bit too clean, like a metrosexual fella. Probably got a bunch of antiaging cream in your bathroom or something, but you in Dixie now, boy. You walk around looking pretty and these Southern girls will scratch your eyes out because they're afraid you'll tempt their husbands into committing horrible, unnatural sins." "I should hope so." "It's the least you could ~ Nick Wilgus

So... Dell had been a good boy with bad friends. I knew this – I used to be one of them. I'd always known Dell would disappear one day; he was too decent, too golden. This place never tainted that, and I don't know why. He made me feel dirty. Dark and corrupt. It hadn't always that way, and I don't know when it changed... but I felt it now. I only knew I couldn't hold onto him tight enough to stop those long legs carrying him away somewhere better.
A day'll come when everybody's had you and nobody wants you anymore...
As Dell drove Erin away in their rent-a-car from the Holiday Inn into the early evening traffic, I felt the walls closing in, the world swelling around me, and I knew that day had finally come. Tomorrow, I leave Paradise. It's true. Shanise was right.
I turned away as the car disappeared up the slushy street.
That was the last time I saw them alive. ~ H. Alazhar

Biker chicks want the bad boy. ~ Theo Rossi

We don't have anyone with bad haircuts, which is a good thing. Louis Delmas has some pretty nice dreads. He's a Florida boy, so they know how to do it. He gets the title. ~ Nate Burleson

I have fallen hopelessly in love with the Italian tattooed bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks. And I fall into his protective, open arms with one hundred percent abandon. ~ Tillie Cole

Do you mean to tell me', he growled a the Dursleys, 'that this boy- this boy! - knows nothin' abou' - about ANYTHING?'
Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks were'nt bad.
'I know some things,' he said. ' I can, you know, do maths and stuff.'
But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, 'About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer' parents world.'
'What world?'
Hagrid looked at though he was about to explode.
'DURSLEY!' he boomed.
Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like 'Mimblewimble'.
Hagrid stared wildly at Harry.
'But yeh must know about yer mum and dad', he said. 'I mean, they're famous. You're famous.
'What? My - my mum and dad weren't famous, were they?'
'Yeh don' know... yeh don' know...' Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare.
'Yeh don' know what yeh are?' he said finally.
Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.
'Stop!' he commanded, 'stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!'
A braver man than Vernon dudley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.
'You never told him? Never told him what was in the latter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you kept it from him all these years?'
'Kept what from me?' said Harry eagerl ~ J.K. Rowling

When you're not a good man yourself you respect a good man. Now I'd prefer to die with a good man around. A good man teaches a lot of nonsense and a bad man teaches truth [...] I'm not the one to teach the boy nonsense. ~ Graham Greene

Bad boy stopped her, placing a hand on her knees. "Tell you what, if you don't have a guy worshiping you by this time next year, come find me. I'll show you a weekend you'll never forget. ~ Eden Summers

Why did I have to be a good boy just because I had a bad-boy brother? I hated the way my mom and dad did family math. ~ Benjamin Alire Saenz

It's always the mother's fault, ain't it?" she said softly, collecting her coat. "That boy turn out bad cause his mama a drunk, or she a junkie. She let him run wild, she don't teach him right from wrong. She never home when he back from school. Nobody ever say his daddy a drunk, or his daddy not home after school. And nobody ever say they some kids just damned mean ... ~ Lionel Shriver

I heard someone's playing hooky,' Zach told me. He smiled. Standing there, it felt almost like nothing bad had ever happened- or would ever happen again
'There's a boy in my life,' I told him. 'He's a very bad influence.'
Then Zach nodded. 'Bad boys have a way of doing that. But they're worth it. ~ Ally Carter

I am trying now to be entirely honest. I did actually comfort in the thought that the Devil had, on Strawless Common, defeated God. I much preferred that thought to the thought that God hadn't cared, hadn't helped Robin. I thought all the way back to the story of Eden. God, all-loving, all-wise, had surely wanted people to be happy and healthy and good; it was the Devil who spoiled it all ... and since so many people were miserable and sickly and bad the Devil must indeed by very powerful. The lifeless, voiceless thing, lately a singing boy, which they had cut down and put under a sack in the barn to await an unhallowed cross-road grave seemed to me to prove the power of the Devil.
Lady Alice Rowhedge ~ Norah Lofts

When he thought of the old man he could see him suddenly in a field in the spring, trying to move a gray boulder. He always knew instinctively the ones you could move, even though the greater part was buried in the earth, and he expected you to move the rock and not discuss it. A hard and silent man, an honest man, a noble man. Little humor but sometimes the door opened and you saw the warmth within a long way off, a certain sadness, a slow, remote, unfathomable quality as if the man wanted to be closer to the world but did not know how. Once Chamberlain had a speech memorized from Shakespeare and gave it proudly, the old man listening but not looking, and Chamberlain remembered it still: 'What a piece of work is man...in action how like an angel!' And the old man, grinning, had scratched his head and then said stiffly, 'Well, boy, if he's an angel, he's sure a murderin' angel.' And Chamberlain had gone on to school to make an oration on the subject: Man, the Killer Angel. And when the old man heard about it he was very proud, and Chamberlain felt very good remembering it. The old man was proud of his son, the colonel. ~ Michael Shaara

Some girls go for bad boys because they like the challenge of changing them - which is usually unrealistic. ~ Mark Salling

I suppose women are attracted to the bad-boy image sometimes because it's fun to have an adventure. It's like eating junk food ... it's fun at the time, but ultimately not the best choice. ~ Dita Von Teese

Zachary's mother, Lucy, waylaid him on the third-floor landing and offered, unsolicited, her opinion that the Traumatics had been the kind of adolescently posturing, angst-mongering boy group that never interested her. Then she waited, with parted lips and a saucy challenge in her eyes, to see how her presence
the drama of being her
was registering. In the way of such chicks, she seemed convinced of the originality of her provocation. Katz had encountered, practically verbatim, the same provocation a hundred times before, which put him in the ridiculous position now of feeling bad for being unable to pretend to be provoked: of pitying Lucy's doughty little ego, its floatation on a sea of aging-female insecurity. He doubted he could get anywhere with her even if he felt like trying, but he knew that her pride would be hurt if he didn't make at least a token effort to be disagreeable. (p. 194) ~ Jonathan Franzen

I'll see you tomorrow night."
Be ready," he said. "I'll have something special planned."
"I thought you didn't make plans."
"You're an exception to my rules, Monica Campbell. ~ Terri L. Austin

I have one quote I very often read to myself, from a very good friend: 'Forget the people around you now; remember the little boy who was racing in go-karts, what you were dreaming of and what he wanted to achieve one day and what was his goal. Race for him.'. I fell in love with the sport, I love racing. The amount of satisfaction I get just going around in a Formula 1 car makes me smile. So if it is a bad day then you tend to come out and say it's horrible and you don't enjoy. But if you had to pick between that and doing nothing, you would always pick that. ~ Sebastian Vettel

I'm trying to be like the old Roc- A-Fella and Bad Boy, influencing people culturally but having hits at the same time. ~ Hit-Boy

The American idea of sexuality appears to be rooted in the American idea of masculinity. Idea may not be the precise word, for the idea of one's sexuality can only with great violence be divorced or distanced from the idea of the self. Yet something resembling this rupture has certainly occurred (and is occurring) in American life, and violence has been the American daily bread since we have heard of America. This violence, furthermore, is not merely literal and actual but appears to be admired and lusted after, and the key to the American imagination.

All countries or groups make of their trials a legend or, as in the case of Europe, a dubious romance called 'history.' But no other country has ever made so successful and glamorous a romance out of genocide and slavery; therefore, perhaps, the word I am searching for is not idea, but ideal.

The American IDEAL, then, of sexuality appears to be rooted in the American IDEAL of masculinity. This ideal has created cowboys and Indians, good guys and bad guys, punks and studs, tough guys and softies, butch and f****t, black and white. It is an ideal so paralytically infantile that is is virtually forbidden - as an unpatriotic act - that the American boy evolve into the complexity of manhood. ~ James Baldwin