Can T Go Back Quotes

We can't go back, Alexa", he said. " We can't go back once we've started growing up, and the world can't be made simple again. ~ Patrick Carman

We can't go back to who we once were. We can only go on and become the person we were meant to be. ~ Anthony T. Hincks

Alec cleared his throat. He felt dizzy, but he also felt alive - blood rushing through his veins like traffic at top speed, everything seemingly almost too brightly colored. As he stepped through the door, he turned and looked at Magnus, who was watching him bemusedly. He reached forward and took hold of the front of Magnus' t-shirt and dragged the warlock toward him. Magnus stumbled against him, and Alec kissed him, hard and fast and messy and unpracticed, but with everything he had. He pulled Magnus against him, his own hand between them, and felt Magnus' heart stutter in his chest.
He broke off the kiss, and drew back.
"Friday," he said, and let Magnus go. He backed away, down the landing, Magnus looking after him. The warlock crossed his arms over his shirt - wrinkled where Alec had grabbed it - and shook his head, grinning. ~ Cassandra Clare

I know I'll miss her every single day, but the memories she left won't haunt me anymore. I'll remember the girl who never wore shoes, and our blood promise to always be friends. I'll remember girls who loved and trusted each other, protected each other, and sometimes even hurt each other.
I'll remember a friendship that will never go away. ~ Jennifer Shaw Wolf

Pudge/Colonel:
"I am sorry that I have not talked to you before. I am not staying for graduation. I leave for Japan tomorrow morning. For a long time, I was mad at you. The way you cut me out of everything hurt me, and so I kept what I knew to myself.

But then even after I wasn't mad anymore, I still didn't say anything, and I don't even really know why. Pudge had that kiss,

I guess. And I had this secret.
You've mostly figured this out, but the truth is that I saw her that night, I'd stayed up late with Lara and some people, and then I was falling asleep and I heard her crying outside my back window. It was like 3:15 that morning, maybe, amd I walked out there and saw her walking through the soccer field. I tried to talk to her, but she was in a hurry. She told me that her mother was dead eight years that day, and that she always put flowers on her mother's grave on the anniversary but she forgot that year. She was out there looking for flowers, but it was too early-too wintry. That's how

I knew about January 10. I still have no idea whether it was suicide.

She was so sad, and I didn't know what to say or do. I think she counted on me to be the one person who would always say and do the right things to help her, but I couldn"t. I just thought she was looking for flowers. I didn't know she was going to go. She was drunk just trashed drunk, and I really didn't think she would drive or anything. I thought she would ~ John Green

There are many ways to go wrong, but only one path leads back to God. There ~ Neil T. Anderson

When I was writing the first few books, what I would do is write a bunch of sentences and then go back and expand and explode those sentences, pack as much into them as I could, so they'd kind of be like popcorn kernels popping ... all this stuff in there to make the writing dense, and beautiful for its density. ~ William T. Vollmann

Col,
Here's to all the places we went. And all the places we'll go And here's me, whispering again and again and again and again: iloveyou. yrs forever, K-a-t-h-e-r-i-n-e
Eventually, he found the bed too comfortable for his state of mind, so he lay down on his back, his legs sprawled across the carpet. He anagrammed "yrs forever" until he found one he liked: sorry fever. And then he lay there in his fever of sorry and repeated the now memorized note in his head and wanted to cry, but instead he only felt this aching behind his solar plexus. Crying adds something: crying is you, plus tears. But the feeling Colin had was some horrible opposite of crying. It was you, minus somthing. He kept thinking about one word -forever-and felt the burning ache just beneath his rib cage.
It hurt like the worst ass-kicking- he'd ever gotten. And he'd gotten plenty."
1.Greek: "I have found it."
2.More on that later. ~ John Green

What was Dionysus going to go? Send him back to his hellish isolation? He'd been there, done that, and had the Ozzy T-shirt to prove it.' (Styxx) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Preppy leans back on the siding and hooks his thumbs under his suspenders, stretching and releasing them several times before he speaks. "Sooo…I hate to be the bearer of interesting news, but you're looking at her like you want to eat her. Stalk much?"
"No, I'm fucking not," I snap defensively. Too defensively.
Preppy releases his suspenders and holds up his hands like he's on the receiving end of a hold-up. "Whoa, whoa. Don't go getting your panties in a twist, little brother. I didn't say stalking was a bad thing. In fact, if you need some pointers, I'd be happy to enrol you in Preppy's How To Stalk Like a Mofo 101. ~ T.M. Frazier

Well, it was probably the fever. You were burning up."
My eyes snapped back to his. "You touched me?"
"Yes, I touched you…and you weren't wearing a lot of clothes." The smug stretch of his lips spread. "And you were soaked …in a white T-shirt. Nice look. Very nice."
Heat crept over my cheeks. "The lake…it wasn't a dream?" Daemon shook his head.
"Oh my God, so I did go swimming in the lake?"
He pushed off the desk and took one step forward, which put him in the same breathing space as me… if he actually needed to breathe. "You did. Not something I expected to see on Monday night, but I'm not complaining. I saw a lot."
"Shut up," I hissed.
"Don't be embarrassed." He reached out, tugging on the sleeve of my cardigan. I smacked his hand away. "It's not like I haven't seen the upper part before, and I didn't get a real good look down - "
I came off the desk swinging. My knuckles only brushed his face before he caught my hand. Wowzer, he was fast. Daemon pulled me up against his chest and lowered his head, eyes snapping with restrained anger. "Don't hit, kitten. It's not nice. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Go (please stay), Go (please stay), Go if you want to,I can't stop you. Just go if you want to I can't stop you. ~ Sara Quin

A. T. Stewart started life with a dollar and fifty cents. This merchant prince began by calling at the doors of houses in order to sell needles, thread and buttons. He soon found the people did not want them, and his small stock was thrown back on his hands. Then he said wisely, "I'll not buy any more of these goods, but I'll go and ask people what they do want." Thereafter he studied the needs and desires of people, found out just what they most wanted, endeavored to meet those wants, and became the greatest business man of his time. ~ Grenville Kleiser

Go back in time. Next question go and look at dinosaurs. I would be sitting on a rock looking at a T- Rex, loving life. ~ Oliver Sykes

Her laughter sounded like music. "What, you don't hang out with missionaries in your downtime? When the rest of us go home and slip into sweatpants and T-shirts, you kick back in a polo shirt and khakis."
No one but Isaiah and Beth teased me. People ran from me. Yet this little nymph thoroughly enjoyed this game. "Keep it up, Echo. I'm all about foreplay."
She laughed so loudly, she slapped a hand over her mouth, yet the giggles escaped. "You are so full of yourself. You think because girls swoon over you and let you into their pants on the first try that I'll follow suit. Think again. Besides, I have your number now. Every time you try to look all dark and dangerous, I'll picture you wearing a pink striped polo, collar up, and a pair of pleated chinos." ~ Katie McGarry

Syn's head snapped back at Furi's rant. "Alright. You're upset about what just happened and you're projecting. I'm gonna give you some alone time. There's beer in the fridge, guest bath is down the hall. Make yourself at home." Syn turned to go to his bedroom. He'd be damned if he was going to let Furi turn this into a fight about him accepting who he was.


"Fucking coward," Furi mumbled.

Syn halted at his bedroom door. Did he really just fucking say that? Syn pivoted on his heels and hurried back into the living room. "What the fuck did you just call me?"

Furi's eyes bulged at Syn's anger. He rose slowly from his seated position and eased around to the other side of the couch. The fear on his face quickly turned to anger. "You want to fight me? Beat me up, Detective?"

"What?" Syn gasped at the absurdity of that question. He faced Furi head on and held his angry, black glare with his own. "First of all, how dare you even think for a second that I would put my hands on you in anger? Just because the bastard you chose to marry did, doesn't mean all men hit." Syn pointed at his chest. "I'm not a coward, Furious. In case you forgot, I just saved your goddamn life."

"Oh no, I haven't forgotten, but yes you're the worst kind of coward. You're not scared of being shot at or throwing yourself in front of two tons of speeding metal, but you're afraid to hold a man's hand, a man you claim to like, in public. Such a badass in t ~ A.E. Via

You'll have to warn them," Mrs. Von Patterson said seriously. "When you go in there. Tell them this town is filled with cougars on the prowl. But that it's definitely okay to feed the wild animals." All three women curled their hands into claws, baring their teeth and hissing at him. "Bad touch," Gus cried, trying to back away as they reached for him. "Bad touch! ~ T.J. Klune

Is that all?" he blurted out.
Crowley and Halt exchanged slightly puzzled glances. Then Crowley pursed his lips thoughtfully.
"Um…it seems to be…Listed your trainging, mentioned a few achievements, made sure you know which end of an arrow is the sharp part…decided your new name…I think that's…" Then it seemed that understanding dawned on him and his eyes opened wide.
"Of course! You have to have you Silver…whatsis, don 't you?" He took hold of the chain that held his own Silver Oakleaf around his throat and shook it lightly. It was a badge of a Graduate Ranger. Then he began to search through his pockets, frowning.
"Had it here! Had it here! Where the devil is it…wait. I heard something fall on the boards as I came in! Must have dropped it. Just check outside the front door, will you, Will?"
Too stunned to talk, Will rose and went to the door. As he set his hand on the latch, he looked back at the two Rangers, still seated at the table. Crowley made a small shooing motion with the back of his hand, urging him to go outside. Will was still looking back at them when he opened the door and stepped through on the verandah.
"Congratulations!"
The massive cry went up from at least forty throats. He swung around in shock to find all his friends gathered in the clearing outside around the table laid for a feast, their faces beaming with smiles. Baron Arald, Sir Rodney, Lady Pauline and Master Chubb were all there. So were Jenny and George, his forme ~ John Flanagan

Some friends and I, we went right up there behind the studio and we got on a train, we could tell it was going to go to Roseville. We got off it and got on another train. And we got to Roseville, and it takes hours to get through that yard. It's really big. So we ended up just coming back here. It's like fishing or hunting. You can't always come back with something. ~ William T. Vollmann

I wish I could go back and rewrite my first book, You Bright and Risen Angels; I could do a better job. But in the meantime, nobody knows as much about my books as I do. Nobody has the right but me to say which words go into my books or get deleted or edited. When I'm dying, I'll smile, knowing I stood up for my books. If I die with more money, that wouldn't bring a smile to my face. Unless I got better drugs or more delicious-looking nurses. ~ William T. Vollmann

So what's going on with you and your boyfriend?" Eli asked me right before he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth during breakfast the next morning.

I made a face in the direction of my plate before shooting a glance upward to find Gordo's eyes on me, a smirk on his face.

"Mason?" I asked, going back to my food.

Eli made a gagging noise, elbowing me hard in the ribs. "I'm not gonna go into details on how disturbing it is that I say 'your boyfriend' and you automatically think of fucking Mase."

"He's always calling me his wife, or telling people I don't know that we're getting married," I replied, elbowing him back as hard as he got me. It was partially the truth… but mostly, I didn't want to talk about the man who had been kissing my shoulder hours ago.

"I love Mase, but it'll be a sunny day in my asshole before you and him get together," he mumbled.

I snorted, biting into my biscuit. "Who the heck else would you be talking about?" I asked, but I knew. Oh, I knew damn well he was referring to Sacha.

Freaking Gordo snickered from across the table before putting his hands up in surrender when I glared at him. "I didn't say anything."

"Sacha, Flabby. Sacha. Your boyfriend. Your snuggle bug." Eliza finally answered.

Suddenly the half-eaten biscuit on my plate needed to be eaten immediately. I shoved the entire piece into my mouth to avoid the conversation my brother was trying t ~ Mariana Zapata

I don't like romance, I don't like sadness. The sadness motion is negative one... as much you are sad as more deeper you go and you want to return the thing which you can't. ~ Deyth Banger

Dude, you're creeping me out," Kevin said, reaching for his shorts.
Before he could pull them back on I dropped the hose and bee-lined toward him, wrapping him in a bear hug. "You really are my brother."
"Huh?" Kevin asked, standing still as a statue.
"Shhh…just let me love you."
"What exactly is going on out here?" Dre asked from the porch, flipping on the light. I still didn't let go.
"He's my brother. I'm sure of it now," I informed her.
"I Have no idea what's going on," Kevin said, wigging from my grip.
"Oh yeah? … How are you so sure?"
I stepped back and pointed down to Kevin's massive cock. "Because of that! ~ T.M. Frazier

When in doubt, go back to sleep. ~ T.K. Toppin

Don't kill me,' said the knight. 'I yield. I yield. You can't kill a man at mercy.'

Lancelot put up his sword and went back from the knight, as if he were going back from his own soul. He felt in his heart cruelty and cowardice, the things which made him brave and kind.

'Get up,' he said. 'I won't hurt you. Get up, go.'

The knight looked at him, on all fours like a dog, and stood up, crouching uncertainly.

Lancelot went away and was sick. ~ T.H. White

Don't be silly." I turned to my suitcase, pulling out my pajamas. "I'm just going to go change . . ." He coughed down at his own suitcase, open on a chair in the corner of the room. "Of course." I changed, washed my face, put my hair up, pulled my hair back down, put it up again. Moisturized. I brushed my teeth, used the loo, washed my hands, moisturized again. Brushed my teeth again. I stalled. And then, stepping out, I let him past me to do the same routine, realizing as he walked into the loo that he had only a pair of shorts in his hand. He slept shirtless. Fuck me sideways. However, when he finally came out of the restroom, Jensen was still wearing his T-shirt, to my enormous dismay. "I thought you slept shirtless." What. What did I just say? He looked up at me in surprise. "I mean, I usually do, but . . . ~ Christina Lauren

The people who've given me sh-t, I say - like my mother - what did she say? She used to say, 'Go to hell and don't come back.' However, however, however, my mother was not entirely me. ~ Jacqueline Bisset

Pretty speech," he said.
"It's the only one I've got."
"I know what's really going on here. You're scared to step into my world. Afraid you can't hack it. Much better to hide here and be a big fish in a very small pond."
"If that's the way you see it, fine." I raised my chin. "I have nothing to prove to you, Rogan."
"But now I have something to prove to you," he said. "I promise you, I will win, and by the time I'm done, you won't walk, you'll run to jump into my bed."
"Don't hold your breath," I told him.
All of his civilized veneer was gone now. The dragon faced me, teeth bared, claws out, breathing fire. "You won't just sleep with me. You'll be obsessed with me. You'll beg me to touch you, and when that moment comes, we will revisit what happened here today."
"Never in a million years." I pointed at the doorway. "Exit is that - "
He grabbed me. His mouth closed on mine. His big body caged me in. His chest mashed my breasts. His arms pulled me to him, one across my back, the other cupping my butt. His magic washed over me in an exhilarating rush. My body surrendered. My muscles turned warm and pliant. My nipples tightened, my breasts ready to be squeezed, ready for his fingers and his mouth. An eager ache flared between my legs. My tongue licked his. God, I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.
He let me go, turned on his toes, and went out, laughing under his breath.
Aaargh! "That's right! Keep . . . walking!"
I threw t ~ Ilona Andrews

Her hands brushed Shane's, and he let go of the cards and took hold.

And then somehow she was in his lap, and he was kissing her. Hadn't meant to do that but...well. She couldn't exactly be sorry about it, because he tasted amazing, and his lips were so soft and his hands were so strong...

He leaned back, eyes half shut, and he was smiling. Shane didn't smile all that much, and it always left her breathless and tingling. There was a secrecy about it like he only ever smiled at her, and it just felt... perfect. 'Claire, you're being careful right?' He smoothed hair back from her face. 'Seriously. You'd tell me if you got into trouble?'

'No trouble,' She lied, thinking about Monica's not-so veiled threats, and that glimpse of Shane's dad seated across from Oliver in the coffee shop.'No trouble at all.'

'Good.' He kissed her again, then moved down her jawline to her neck, and, wow neck nibbles took her breath away. She closed her eyes and buried her fingers in his warm hair, trying to tell him through every touch how much she liked this, like him, loved...

Her eyes came open, fast.

She did not just think about that.

Shane's warm hands moved up her sides, thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts again, and he traced his fingers across the thin skin of her collarbone...down to where the neck of her T-shirt stopped him. Teasing. Pulling it down an inch, then two.

And then, maddeningly, he let go ~ Rachel Caine

It used to be the custom in this country that when you had made a career and were mature in judgment, you went to the Senate to give something back t the Republic. The idea that at age 25 you go out and buy a blow dryer and starting running for office is not what the founders had in mind ~ Gore Vidal

As soon as we arrived home, I told Bliss I was going to take a shower. Sundays were a two-show day, so I certainly needed it. I let her go in first to brush her teeth. I waited for the water to turn on, then leapt into action. I found Hamlet's feathered cat toy (the only reason she would ever willingly get close to Bliss), and hid it underneath the bed. Then I went to the closet and found the suit coat pocket where I'd hidden the ring. I popped open the box to look at it one more time.

It wasn't much. I was only an actor, after all. But Bliss wasn't one to wear much jewelry any way. It was simple and sparkling, and I hoped she would love it as much as I loved her. A popping sensation filled my gut like those silly candy rocks that Bliss loved.

What if I was pushing her too fast?

No. No, I'd thought this out. It was the best way. I opened the top drawer of the nightstand, and slid the ring box toward the back. The water in the bathroom shut off, and I went back to the closet, shucking my shirt. I tossed it in the hamper at the same time Bliss walked in the room.

She came up behind me and placed a hand on my bare back. She pressed a small kiss on my shoulder and asked, "Get Hamlet for me before you shower?"

I smiled, and nodded.

Bliss was so determined to make Hamlet like her that she played with the cat for at least half an hour before bed every night. Hamlet would stick around for as long as Bliss waved t ~ Cora Carmack

God was still smiling when he went into the guest room for his suitcase. He looked in the closet and under the perfectly made bed. He even pulled out the drawers of the one armoire on the far side of the room, but couldn't find it. He was about to go back downstairs and ask Day when he turned down the long hall and walked into Day's master bedroom. His suitcase was tucked neatly in the corner. He pulled it out but immediately knew it was empty. He looked in the first dresser but those were Day's clothes. The second identical dresser was on the other side and God did a double take at his few toiletries that were neatly aligned on top. God rubbed his hand on the smooth surface and felt his heart clench at how domestic this looked.

His and his dressers…really.

God yanked off his T-shirt and threw it in the hamper along with Day's items. He washed up quickly and went back to his dresser to put on a clean shirt. His mouth dropped when he pulled out the dresser drawer. His shirts were neatly folded and placed in an organized arrangement. God went through all five drawers. His underwear, socks, shirts, sweats, all arranged neatly and in its own place.
He dropped down on the bed and thought for a minute. At first he was joking, but Day really was domesticating him. Was God ready for that? Sure he loved Day, he'd take a bullet for him, but was he ready to play house? He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger at the slight tension for ~ A.E. Via

Don't ask where I got this idea, because I couldn't tell you, but I knew precisely where we were going, and I was sure that this might officially make me a slut. But when we reached the door of the unused janitor's closet, I had no feeling of shame… not yet, at least.
I grasped the doorknob and noticed Wesley's eyes narrow with suspicion. I yanked open the door, checked that no one was watching, and gestured for him to go inside. Wesley walked into the tiny closet, and I followed, shutting the door stealthily behind us.
"Something tells me this isn't about The Scarlet Letter," he said, and even in the dark I knew he was grinning.
"Be quiet."
This time he met me halfway. His hands tangled in my hair and mine clawed at his forearms. We kissed violently, and my back slammed against the wall. I heard a mop-or maybe a broom-topple over, but my brain barely registered the sound as one of Wesley's hands moved to my hip, holding me closer to him. He was so much taller than me that I had to tilt my head back almost all the way to meet his kiss. His lips pressed hard against mine, and I let my hands explore his biceps.
The smell of his cologne, rather than the lonely, stale air of the closet, filled my senses.
We wrestled in the darkness for a while before I felt his hand insistently lifting the hem of my T-shirt. With a gasp, I pulled away from the kiss and grabbed his wrist. "No… not now."
"Then when?" Wesley asked in my ear, still pinning me to the ~ Kody Keplinger

I'm part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have Holy Spirit power. The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I'm a disciple of His. I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still.
My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure. I'm finished and down with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, mundane talking, cheap living, and dwarfed goals.
I no longer need prominence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity. I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean on His presence, walk by patience, lift by prayer, and labor by power.
My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions are few, my Guide is reliable, my mission is clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded, or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the adversary, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.
I won't give up, shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, and preached up for the cause of Christ. I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till He stops me. And when He comes for His own, He will have no problem ~ Avery T. Willis Jr.

I've always been a quitter. I quit the Boy Scouts, the glee club, the marching band. Gave up my paper route, turned my back on the church, stuffed the basketball team. I dropped out of college, sidestepped the army with a 4-F on the grounds of mental instability, went back to school, made a go of it, entered a Ph.D. program in nineteenth-century British literature, sat in the front row, took notes assiduously, bought a pair of horn-rims, and quit on the eve of my comprehensive exams. I got married, separated, divorced. Quit smoking, quit jogging, quit eating red meat. I quit jobs: digging graves, pumping gas, selling insurance, showing pornographic films in an art theater in Boston. When I was nineteen I made frantic love to a pinch-faced, sack-bosomed girl I'd known from high school. She got pregnant. I quit town. ~ T.C. Boyle

It isn't just the idea of a woman in a truck. At this point, they're everywhere. The statisticians tell us today's woman is as likely to buy a truck as a minivan. One cheers the suffrage, but the effect is dilutive. My head doesn't snap around the way it used to. Ignoring for the moment that my head (or the gray hairs upon it) may be the problem, I think it's not about women in trucks, it's about certain women in certain trucks. Not so long ago I was fueling my lame tan sedan at the Gas-N-Go when a woman roared across the lot in a dusty pickup and pulled up to park by the yellow cage in which they lock up the LP bottles. She dismounted wearing scuffed boots and dirty jeans and a T-shirt that was overwashed and faded, and at the very sight of her I made an involuntary noise that went, approximately, ohf...! I suppose ohf...! reflects as poorly on my character as wolf whistle, but I swear it escaped without premeditation. Strictly a spinal reflex. [...] The woman plucking her eyebrows in the vanity mirror of her waxed F-150 Lariat does not elicit the reflex. Even less so if her payload includes soccer gear or nothing at all. That woman at the Gas-N-Go? I checked the back of her truck. Hay bales and a coon dog crate. Ohf...! ~ Michael Perry

Even more confused than before, I started backing up. I'd go around and get in through the kitchen; David and Raquel had to know what was going on. Unfortunately for all of us, that was when Lend came out the front door, immediately collapsed with a thunk that made me cringe, and - perfect - went completely transparent.
The police officers stopped fighting, every eye glued on my boyfriend, now essentially invisible other than this T-shirt and flannel pajama pants.
"Okay," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "No. This is unacceptable. I don't care what the bleep is going on, we're going to get it settled immediately or I swear I will give you all to the Dark Queen and let her feed on your dreams for the rest of eternity."
Every head turned my direction, their faces a portrait of shock and disbelief.
"What, you've never seen a boy made of water before? Yawn. Go down to the pond - it'll really blow your mind."
One close to the front - barrel-chested, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a thick mustache - shook his head as though trying to clear it. "Are you Evelyn Green?"
"Sort of. Mostly. I mean, legally. Again, sort of."
He tried to look at me, but his eyes kept drifting back to Lend. "You're under - We're here to - Could you please come with us?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, I couldn't. You're last place in a very long line of people who want me right now. Besides, I haven't done anything."
"Actually," said a painfully tall an ~ Kiersten White

I used to think I couldn't go a day without your smile. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back.
Then, that day arrived and it was so damn hard but the next was harder. I knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and I wasn't going to be okay for a very long time.
Because losing someone isn't an occasion or an event. It doesn't just happen once. It happens over and over again. I lose you every time I pick up your favorite coffee mug; whenever that one song plays on the radio, or when I discover your old t-shirt at the bottom of my laundry pile.
I lose you every time I think of kissing you, holding you, or wanting you. I go to bed at night and lose you, when I wish could tell you about my day. And in the morning, when I wake and reach for the empty space across the sheets, begin to lose you all over again. ~ Lang Leav

Lieutenant Paul T. Funkhouser from Evansville, Indiana, a twenty-three-year-old lawyer yet to practice his trade, led the way aboard his motorcycle. He kept riding back and forth to let the drivers know where to go, and then dashing off to the head of the column. ~ Stephen L. Harris

Cam let go of Evie and approached Sebastian as the room emptied. "You fight like a gentleman, my lord," he commented.
Sebastian gave him a sardonic glance. "Why doesn't that sound like a compliment?"
Sliding his hands into his pockets, Cam observed mildly, "You do well enough against a pair of drunken sots - "
"There were three to start with," Sebastian growled.
"Three drunken sots, then. But the next time you may not be so fortunate."
"The next time? If you think I'm going to make a habit of this - "
"Jenner did," Cam countered softly. "Egan did. Nearly every night there is some to-do in the alley, the stable yard, or the card rooms, after the guests have had hours of stimulation from gaming, spirits, and women. We all take turns dealing with it. And unless you care to get the stuffing knocked out of you on a weekly basis, you'll need to learn a few tricks to put down a fight quickly. It causes less damage to you and the patrons, and keeps the police away."
"If you're referring to the kind of tactics used in rookery brawls, and quarrels over back-alley bobtails - "
"You're not going for a half hour of light exercise at the pugilistic club," Cam said acidly.
Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, but as he saw Evie drawing closer something changed in his face. It was a response to the anxiety that she couldn't manage to hide. For some reason her concern gently undermined his hostility, and softened him. Looking from one to t ~ Lisa Kleypas

[I]t is useful at times to admit to yourself that you don't know your way and to be open to help from unexpected places. Doing that makes available to you inner and outer energies and allies that arise out of your own soulfulness and selflessness. [...] [G]etting caught up in the normal human tendencies of self-cherishing and arrogance, and ignoring the larger order of things, will ultimately lead to ans impasse in your life in which you are unable to go forward, unable to go back, and unable to turn around. ~ Jon Kabat-Zinn

Wait in the car." He opened the door and started to climb out.
"Hold on! How long should I give you? What if you don't come back in a certain number of minutes? Should I call the cops?"
"Don't do anything. Don't call anyone. I'll be fine."
"But what if you're not?"
"Then go home."
And with that, he got out and jogged down the street, like if I heard screams or gunshots or whatever I would just drive on home like nothing happened. Well, good for you, I thought, watching him climb a short cement staircase and put a key in the door. You don't need anyone. Fine.
I watched the clock. Three minutes went by, four. I thought about knocking on the door, having of course no idea what I would actually do once I got there. Maybe I'd have to break the door down, wrestle Cameron away from the bad men, and then carry him out the way you hear people when they get a huge burst of adrenaline. Except the person I pictured rescuing was little Cameron, in shorts and a striped T-shirt, his arms wrapped around my neck.
Then there he was, bursting out of the apartment door and bounding down the steps, a big garbage bag in hand. He ran to the car, fast. I reached over and opened the passenger door and he jumped in.
"Go."
You can't exactly peel out in a '94 Escort, but I did my best. Cameron breathed hard, clutching the garbage bag to his chest.
"What happened?" I drove a good fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit, convinced we were being chased ~ Sara Zarr

I'm not sure I'm up for going to the moon. I'd rather go to Antigua as far as holiday destinations go. Well, they all went mental didn't they, astronauts? Perhaps it's very helpful because you're reminded that you have a very short life and really there's nothing to worry about at all. But then you might come back to earth and not give a sh*t about anything. - Stylist.co.uk, 2012 ~ Miranda Hart

Momma used to say, you got to know when to move. More important than knowing when to stay put. ~ Joyce Carol Oates

So you cheat on your wife and you want me to give you a gold star for it, said Domino. Well, mister, I pity your wife and I don't give a fuck about you. Now I've got to go outside for a minute and see a man about a dog. When I come back, if you want a flatback or a blow, you just lay down your money in my hand. But no more of your hypocritical bullshit. Who the hell do you think you are? You're just a kid in the candy store that can't decide which kind of liquorice he wants to stuff his face with. Now sit there and shut up. ~ William T. Vollmann

Oh r-really? Do t-tell?" I quirked an eyebrow back at him.

"Well, usually it's best to take your shoes and socks off before you step in the stream, better balance on an uneven surface. Also, you avoid that unpleasant squelchy feeling when you wear the shoes againlater." He paused, smirking. "Also, if
I was going to paddle barefoot "I was going to paddle barefoot upstream in Yorkshire, I'd wait until at least May before I tried it. But you go ahead, love. You're clearly a Spartan lass. ~ J.A. Ironside

He turned and snarled at me, eyes blazing.
"Eep!" I said, because even though it was scary, it was still a scary unicorn, and I couldn't help but fall in love just a little bit more.
"If you ever lock yourself in a room like a spoiled brat again, I will track down my horn, go on a quest to get said horn, defeat whatever creature has the horn, restore it to its rightful place atop my head, come back to the City of Lockes, march in a parade in my honor, and then come up to your room and gore you to death. Do you understand?"
"Your eyelashes are made of stars," I whispered reverently.
"I know," he hissed angrily. "It's because I'm beautiful. Now are we clear? ~ T.J. Klune

She had hit rock-bottom. She had given a blow job to a man who for all intents and purposes, was a bum. He had smelled so bad, she forced him to spray on some of the perfume she always carried in her purse. Her favorite perfume. After tonight, she was quitting. Yeah, she'd have to go back home with her two kids, grovel to her mama and work a dead-end job, but anything was better than getting down on your knees to give a guy as disgusting as Lenny a one-off. ~ A.T. Hicks

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

Prison... it changes you. I'm not the same man I was before going on the inside. I can't go back. I won't." "You were in prison less than twenty-minutes. ~ C.T. Phipps