Escort Quotes

I swear on my life, one day I'll personally escort all those that hurt my sisters to Hell. ~ Ransom Riggs

Fate. As a child, that word was often my only companion. It whispered to me from dark corners during lonely nights. It was the song of the birds in spring and the call of the wind through bare branches on a cold winter afternoon. Fate. Both my anguish and my solace. My escort and my cage. ~ Leslye Walton

Do you think my husband and his soldiers will be overly upset with me?"
The priest broke into a wide grin. "I'll stand by your side when we find out," he said. "I would be honored to escort you to your husband."
The priest took hold of Johanna's arm. She didn't notice. "I expect them to be a little upset at first," she explained. "But only just a little."
"Yes," he agreed. "Tell me, lass. When was your last confession?"
"Why do you ask?"
"It's preferred to receive absolution before you meet your Maker. ~ Julie Garwood

Let us not hate or kill time, but embrace and escort it as a brother in arms, without nostalgia or strain. If we follow the beat of our heart and channel the timeliness of our expectations, we can detach ourselves from greed with its tempting voices whispering "more and more" all the time. ("Swim or sink") ~ Erik Pevernagie

Her tongue flailed around all the questions stammering to get out, and she finally landed on: "When did you have time to take a mistress?"
His smile faltered. "Don't talk about Cress like that."
"What?"
"Oh - wait! You mean Darla. I won her in a hand of cards."
Cinder gawked.
"I thought she'd make a nice gift for Iko."
"You ... what?"
"For her replacement body?"
"Um."
"Because Darla's an escort-droid? ~ Marissa Meyer

It's beautiful here," Rees murmured, watching the light play upon the water before returning his gaze to her.
Mrs. Hollingsworth, his newest client, turned to him and forced a stiff smile. "Yes, money can buy all kinds of beautiful things," she said without a hint of emotion. ~ D.A. Rhine

Everything is a matter of interpretation. And that is how you will rule," he said, before handing the sword's hilt to me. "Think on what you've seen today. But do not let me influence you. Your will is yours alone."
I stared at the sword in my hand, still gleaming despite the dark. "I can promise you I won't forget."
Amar paused, his voice soft. "Memory is a riddled thing. I would caution you from making promises you cannot keep."
I moved toward the door, but Amar stopped me with a shake of his head. "Gupta will arrive in a moment to escort you." He straightened the cuffs of his sherwani jacket. "I myself have a number of duties to attend to, so I must leave."
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Why?"
He paused and took a step to me. Darkness, soft-edged and heavy, clung to the room. In the shadows, his smile held all the lazy grace of a cat.
"Would you miss me?"
"Curiosity inspired my question. Nothing more," I said, but even my voice was unconvinced.
"Even so, there's no greater temptation than to stay by your side."
The door swung open and a chorus of voices trickled into the room--silvery and indistinct, like whispers released through clenched teeth. Amar lingered for a moment, his lips tight as though he wanted to say something.
Then, he cupped his palms together and blew into them. When he opened his hands, a bloom of light shaped like an unopened flower bud lifted off his palm and floated into the room. Brightne ~ Roshani Chokshi

You're just pushing your food around, aren't you? You've barely taken two bites. I thought you loved Lou's Cornish hens."
"I do. I'm sorry. All I can think about is that English project due this week." I look over at Ryder with a faux scowl. "We're already way behind--you've always got some excuse. We should probably work on it tonight."
"Probably so," Ryder says with an exasperated-sounding sigh.
"That's the third project the two of you have been paired up on," Mama says, shaking her head. "I hope you two can behave well enough to get your work done properly. No more arguing like the last time."
We'd pretended to fight over a calculus project. Yes, a calculus project. Is there really any such thing?
"We're trying really hard to behave," I say, shooting Ryder a sidelong glance. "Right?"
His cheeks pinken deliciously at the innuendo. I love it when Ryder blushes. Totally adorable.
"Right," he mumbles, his gaze fixed on his lap.
Laura Grace gives us both a pointed look. "You two better learn to get along, you hear? You're going to be spending a lot of time together for the next four years."
Four years. Just the two of us--away from our meddling mamas. I have to bite my lip to force back the smile that's threatening to give us away.
"She's right," Mama says, nodding. "The only way I'm allowing Jemma to go to NYU is if she promises not to go off campus without Ryder to escort her."
Escort me? What is it, the 1950s or somethin ~ Kristi Cook

Desperate.
He rolled his eyes. That was the third nail in the coffin to this whole fiasco. Kennedy wanted him to pose as a paid escort (which embarrassed him) to a desperate woman (which scared him) and take her to a wedding (which nauseated him.) ~ Jennifer Shirk

Hell, I'm practically an escort for my rich doctor clients. They call and I come running whispering sweet nothings in their ears and whipping out some of the best drugs money can buy. Matter of fact, we just got some meds in that makes Viagra look like chewable kiddie vitamins. One of my doctors told me when he came it was so good, he blacked out temporarily. Me and my boy toy are trying that one out tonight. ~ A.T. Hicks

He was right! Said you'd go straight after 'em, sword and knife. What's with you?"
"You said, 'A trap.' I thought it was them," I muttered through suddenly numb lips. "Wasn't it?"
"Didn't you see the riding of greeners?" Bran retorted. "It was Debegri, right enough. He had paid informants in those inns, for he was on the watch for your return. Why d'you think Vidanric sent the escort?"
"Vidanric?"
"His name," Branaric said, still staring at me with that odd gaze. "You could try to use it--only polite. After all, Shevraeth is just a title, and he doesn't go about calling either of us Tlanth."
I'd rather cut out my tongue, I thought, but I said nothing.
"Anyway--life, sister--if he'd wanted me dead, why not in the comfort of his own home, where he could do a better job?"
I shook my head. "It made sense to me."
"It makes sense when you have a castle-sized grudge." He sighed. "It was the Renselaeus escort, hard on their heels, that attacked Debegri's gang and saved my life. Our friend the Marquis wasn't far behind--he'd just found out about the spies, he said. Between us we pieced together what happened, and what I said, and what you'd likely do. I thought you'd stay home. He said you'd ride back down the mountain breathing fire and hunting his blood. He was right." He stared to laugh, but it came out a groan, and he closed his eyes for a long breath. Then, "Arrow clipped me on the right, or I'd be finished. But I can't talk long--I'm alrea ~ Sherwood Smith

When Lillian left work in the early evening the streets were slick and shiny with rain and the lamps flared yellow giving her the melancholy feeling that always came with the rain and the dark. She'd just struggled to push up her umbrella when the farmer from Saskatchewan came out of the shadows and tipped his hat again, very politely, and said could he escort her home? She put her small hand on his broad arm and held the umbrella over both their heads (he was very tall) and he walked her all the way back to her lodging-house where the landlady, Mrs Raicevic, looked after Edmund after school. By then, Lillian had learned the farmer's name and she said, 'Edmund, this is Mr Donner,' and Pete Donner squatted right down and said, 'Hello there, Edmund, you can call me Pete.' Although he never did, preferring to call him 'Pop' almost from the day his mother married him. ~ Kate Atkinson

It's my turn next, and I realize then that I never turned in the name of my escort--because I hadn't planned on being here. I glance around wildly for Ryder, but he's nowhere to be seen, swallowed up by the sea of people in cocktail dresses and suits.
Crap. I thought he realized that escorting me on court was part of the deal, once I'd agreed to go. I guess he'd figured it'd be easier on me, what with the whole Patrick thing, if I was alone onstage. But I don't want to be alone. I want Ryder with me. By my side, supporting me.
Always.
I finally spot him in the crowd--it's not too hard, since he's a head taller than pretty much everyone else--and our eyes meet. My stomach drops to my feet--you know, that feeling you get on a roller coaster right after you crest that first hill and start plummeting toward the ground.
Oh my God, this can't be happening. I've fallen in love with Ryder Marsden, the boy I'm supposed to hate. And it has nothing to do with his confession, his declaration that he loves me. Sure, it might have forced me to examine my feelings faster than I would have on my own, but it was there all along, taking root, growing, blossoming.
Heck, it's a full-blown garden at this point.
"Our senior maid is Miss Jemma Cafferty!" comes the principal's voice. "Jemma is a varsity cheerleader, a member of the Wheelettes social sorority, the French Honor Club, the National Honor Society, and the Peer Mentors. She's escorted tonight by…ahem, sorry. ~ Kristi Cook

Go on," Kell told him without taking his eyes from Lila. " Get some rest."

Hastra shifted. "I can't, sir," he said. "I'm to escort Miss Bard--"

"I'll take that charge," cut in Kell. Hastra bit his lip and retreated several steps.

Lila let her forehead come to rest against his, her face so close the features blurred. And yet, that fractured eye shone with frightening clarity.

"You never told me," he whispered.

"You never noticed," she answered. And then, "Alucard did."

The blow landed, and Kell started to pull away when Lila's eyelids fluttered and she swayed dangerously.

He braced her. "Come on," he said gently. "I have a room upstairs. Why don't we--"

A sleepy flicker of amusement. "Trying to get me into bed?"

Kell mustered a smile. "It's only fair. I've spent enough time in yours."

"If I remember correctly," she said, her voice dreamy with fatigue, "you were on top of the bed the entire time."

"And tied to it," observed Kell.

Her words were soft at the edges. "Those were the days..." she said, right before she fell forward. It happened so fast Kell could do nothing but throw his arms around her.

"Lila?" he asked, first gently, and then more urgently. "Lila?"

She murmured against his front, something about sharp knives and soft corners, but didn't rouse, and Kell shot a glance at Hastra, who was still standing there, looki ~ V.E. Schwab

Women who work for escort agencies that assign them out to prostitution dates at sushi restaurants know how to eat with chopsticks, and beyond that they are in every other way identical to other prostitutes. They're not better looking; they're not smarter; they're not classier; they're not more charming. They probably give more blowjobs than any reasonable woman, right? And they are empty inside, but it's also society's fault. ~ Julie Klausner

Jules had listened in on nearly every word exchanged while they'd been back there together, and it was more than obvious that Max had yet to pull Gina into his arms and do his imitation of the Han Solo and Princess Leia big-moment kiss from The Empire Strikes Back.
Maybe when Jules and the E-man walked out of the garage and climbed into that ancient Escort - which turned out to be part of the Testa fleet-Max would take the opportunity to plant a big, wet one on this woman that he still so obviously adored.
Or maybe not.
"Sweetie, I love the haircut," Jules told Gina as he gave Max back his cell phone. "You look fabulous for a woman who's been dead for five days."
"What?" she said, but it was time to go.
"Max'll fill you in," he said. There. There was no way Max was going to be table to tell Gina about receiving the report of her death without getting a little misty-eyed. At which point Gina would, at the very least, throw her arms around him. If Max couldn't manage to turn that into a truth-revealing kiss, he didn't deserve the woman. "Ow," he added as Emilio pressed his weapon into Jules's kidney.
"Sorry," Emilio managed to put the right amount of apology into his voice, but he was obviously so stressed that he didn't quite get the right facial expression to match. It was pretty odd. Particularly when he jabbed Jules again. "Let's go."
Wow, wasn't this going to be fun?
Max, meanwhile, had stepped protectively in front of Gina. He caugh ~ Suzanne Brockmann

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Did you send an escort with my family?" "Yes. They're a target." "How did you know they would be leaving?" "My people saw them load up, called me, and I told them to follow." Duh. "Thank you." "You're welcome. I plan to hold them hostage until you sleep with me." I stumbled. He turned and gave me a brilliant, impossibly handsome smile. "Just kidding." Damn it. ~ Ilona Andrews

If the store were your own business, you'd escort the customer to a product's location in the store and refer to the customer by name. ~ Steven Burd

Kestrel, what are you doing?"
She had forgotten what she wore. "Nothing."
He lifted his dark brows.
"It was a dare," she said. "A senator's daughter dared me to sneak out of the palace without an escort."
"Try harder, Kestrel."
She muttered, "I was tired of being closed up inside the palace."
"That I believe. But I doubt it's the whole truth."
Arin's eyes were narrow, inspecting her. His hand slid along the railing as he came close. He reached for the collar of the sailor's coat. He drew it away from her neck.
The world went luscious, and slow, and still.
He bowed his head. Stitches scratched against her cheek. Arin buried his face in the hollow between her neck and the coat collar and breathed in. Warmth flooded her.
Kestrel imagined: his mouth parting against her skin. The teeth of his smile. And she imagined more, she saw what she would do, how she would forget herself, how everything would slip and unloop, like rich ribbon off its spool. The dream of this held her. She couldn't move.
She felt him feel how she didn't move. Arin hesitated. He lifted his head and looked down at her. The blacks of his eyes were huge. ~ Marie Rutkoski

After you have once ridden behind a motorcycle escort, you are never the same again ~ Herbert H. Lehman

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NOW FIVE DAYS into its voyage, the Lusitania made its way toward Britain alone, with no escort offered or planned, and no instruction to take the newly opened and safer North Channel route - this despite the fact that the ship carried a valuable cache of rifle cartridges and desperately needed shrapnel shells. ~ Erik Larson

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You're going to pay the bill," said Grahame. "Then I'll escort you and the young lady out to the car. And we'll go back to my place, for a proper talk. Any funny business, and I shoot you both. Capiche? "
Fat Charlie capiched. He also capiched who had been driving the black Mercedes that afternoon and just how close he had already come to death that day. He was beginning to capiche how utterly cracked Grahame Coats was and how little chance Daisy and he had of getting out of this alive. ~ Neil Gaiman

All considerations
for these human remains!
They must have an escort!
They are classified! ~ Anne Sexton

Nothing says 'classy' like posting bond for your girlfriend so you can escort her to a black-tie dinner. ~ Linda Morris

Ali McClelland. Too bad. I just can't let you become my sugar daddy." I put the notes back on the hall table. He shakes his head. "I'll never be your sugar anything! You stubborn git." He grabs me and kisses me with force, enough to make me see stars. When he lets me go, I give him a wide grin because I am giddy from his kisses. "Not everyone lives in a nice house in Islington. I only have my pride." "And I love your pride." Ali smiles. "But I'm not rich despite having this house. Emily's parents gave it to her as a wedding present. And when she died, it was passed on to me. I'm grateful for it but it doesn't define me." I sigh. "I never said it did." "And you'll make me a very happy man if you come and share it with me. The house has three bedrooms. You can even have your own space." He waves his hand as if to emphasise the point that there is plenty of room. I keep putting off the discussion of 'our future' as I know what it means. If I move in with him, I won't need to be an escort anymore to pay rent and I can maybe get a low-paid or part-time job. I can even go back to study music at college. It is a big step. I am scared, properly frightened. What if it doesn't work out? On the other hand, I've got nothing to lose except the newfound control of my life at the expense of selling my arse. I promise myself I'll give it more thought ~ A. Zukowski

And please, whatever you do, don't tell us that what we do, either in love or lust, is unnatural. For one thing if what you mean by that is that animals don't do it, then you are quite simply in factual error.
There are plenty of activities or qualities we could list that are most certainly unnatural if you are so mad as to think that humans are not part of nature, or so dull-witted as to believe that 'natural' means 'all natures but human nature': mercy, for example, is un¬natural, an altruistic, non-selfish care and love for other species is unnatural; charity is unnatural, justice is unnatural, virtue is unnatural, indeed - and this surely is the point - the idea of virtue is unnatural, within such a foolish, useless meaning of the word 'natural'. Animals, poor things, eat in order to survive: we, lucky things, do that too, but we also have Abbey Crunch biscuits, Armagnac, selle d'agneau, tortilla chips, sauce béarnaise, Vimto, hot buttered crumpets, Chateau Margaux, ginger-snaps, risotto nero and peanut-butter sandwiches - these things have nothing to do with survival and everything to do with pleasure, connoisseurship and plain old greed. Animals, poor things, copulate in order to reproduce: we, lucky things, do that too, but we also have kinky boots, wank-mags, leather thongs, peep-shows, statuettes by Degas, bedshows, Tom of Finland, escort agencies and the Journals of Anaïs Nin - these things have nothing to do with reproduction and everything to do with ~ Stephen Fry

My lady, it has been my honour to escort you. ~ Rick Riordan

I took care of that evil man. I sewed a curse into his pocket. Sewed it tight. First five stitches take away his health, happiness, love, money an family. Six be the number of Evil. Sixth black stitch make it final. Satan his self gonna steal his breath and escort him to hell. ~ T.K. Lukas

Anna Wintour hadn't been to any of McQueen's shows, and McQueen didn't like it. McQueen said American Vogue could borrow the dress only if they flew it to New York and back, in its own seat, with an escort. It was a fuck-you and they took it, and the dress was shot by Richard Avedon. "Fashion people haven't got any brains," McQueen said. ~ Maureen Callahan

Bel Riose traveled without escort, which is not what court etiquette prescribes ~ Isaac Asimov

Let her arm go and pray she has no bruise," a familiar voice said in a low angry tone. I shuddered from relief at the sound of his voice. Trey released my arm and shrugged, grinning. "I just wanted an oyster, and she wouldn't serve me." I opened my mouth to protest when the warm fingers holding my arm softly squeezed me for reassurance. So, I stayed quiet. "Jason, please escort your friend to the door. I have no other reason to speak with him unless Sadie has a bruise or any lasting marks from his hands, and then he will see me again. ~ Abbi Glines

I think the best shaped box ever on earth is a coffin which can be handmade to escort the forever numb-hands. ~ Munia Khan

Somehow, I cannot see anyone describing me as gracious, loving, and happy." He frowned at his sandwich as if in puzzlement. "You are loving," Anna replied staunchly, though she hadn't exactly planned for those words to leave her mouth. "Now that is beyond surprising." The earl eyed her in the deepening shadows. "How do you conclude such a thing, Mrs. Seaton?" "You have endless patience with your family, my lord," she began. "You escort your sisters everywhere; you dance attendance on them and their hordes of friends at every proper function; you harry and hound the duke so his wild starts are not the ruination of his duchy. You force yourself to tend to mountains of business which you do not enjoy, so your family may be safe and secure all their days." "That is business," the earl said, looking nonplussed that his first sandwich had disappeared, until Anna handed him a second. ~ Grace Burrowes

When they reached a maintenance closet, Iko ushered the escort-droid inside.
"I want you to know that I hold nothing against you," she said, by way of introduction. "I understand that it isn't your fault your programmer had so little imagination."
The escort-droid held her gaze with empty eyes.
"In another life, we could have been sisters, and I feel it's important to acknowledge that."
A blank stare. A blink, every six seconds.
"But as it stands, I'm a part of an important mission right now, and I cannot be swayed from my goal by my sympathy for androids who are less advanced than myself."
Nothing.
"All right then." Iko held out her hands. "I need your clothes. ~ Marissa Meyer

Where do consequences lead? Depends on the escort. ~ Stanislaw Lem

Are you sure about this?" I wring my hands. "I was a homeless druggie, a beggar and an escort. I'm prone to breakdowns and poor decisions. Have you picked up strays before and let them into your house?" He laughs, not taking me seriously at all. "I don't give a flying fuck as long as you're here." He rubs my abs to soothe me. "Liam. You make me happy. Life's too short not to grab hold of happiness when it comes knocking at my door." Fuck. He has done it again. Tears surge in my eyes. "And you just seem to make me cry like a fucking twat!" He smiles, comes closer and kisses me. Before I know it, he wraps his arms around my waist and thighs and tries to lift me up and carry me. I am pretty lithe but I'm still too tall and heavy for him. He manages to half-lug, half-drag me up the stairs and into the bedroom while laughing his head off. ~ A. Zukowski

I was in Italy in 1992 working on magazine articles when I got a call from the Italian travel commission. They asked, would I mind being an escort for an older woman? I told them I don't do that kind of work, but then they said it was Julia Child, and I said I'd be right there. ~ Bob Spitz

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

As much as I find the soulmate concept sappy and silly, I also understand its appeal. The soulmate promises an all-in-one solution. Find that one perfect person and you have - for starters - your best friend, your sexual partner, your comforter and caretaker, your cheerleader, your escort to every social function, your consultant on matters large and small, and the one and only teammate you will ever need in home management, money management, and vacation planning. And that list doesn't even include any of the potential coparenting possibilities. The soulmate mythology is the ultimate seduction: Find that one right person and all of your wishes will come true. ~ Bella DePaulo

Greet what arrives, escort what leaves and rush upon loss of contact ~ Yip Man

He knew there was only a slight difference between an armed guard and an escort, but sometimes that difference separated the honored and the condemned. ~ Raymond E. Feist

After a brief murmured exchange, the lady's maid opened the door a bit wider, and Phoebe's brother Ivo stuck his head inside.
"Hullo, sis," he said casually. "You look very nice in that gold dress."
"It's ecru." At his perplexed look, she repeated, "Ecru."
"God bless you," Ivo said, and gave her a cheeky grin as he entered the room.
Phoebe lifted her gaze heavenward. "Why are you here, Ivo?"
"I'm going to escort you downstairs, so you don't have to go alone."
Phoebe was so moved, she couldn't speak. She could only stare at the eleven-year-old boy, who was volunteering to take the place her husband would have assumed.
"It was Father's idea," Ivo continued, a touch bashfully. "I'm sorry I'm not as tall as the other ladies' escorts, or even as tall as you. I'm really only half an escort. But that's still better than nothing, isn't it?" His expression turned uncertain as he saw that her eyes were watering.
After clearing her throat, Phoebe managed an unsteady reply. "At this moment, my gallant Ivo, you tower above every other gentleman here. I'm so very honored."
He grinned and offered his arm in a gesture she had seen him practice in the past with their father. "The honor is mine, sis."
In that moment, Phoebe had the briefest intimation of what Ivo would be like as a full-grown man, confident and irresistibly charming. ~ Lisa Kleypas

and Ross was limping by the end of it. He rode a horse longer than he walked these days. Then it was an asking and a questing, a seeking among dark and sprawling figures, the thumb jerked, the finger pointed. Ross's escort moved like a small Scottish ferret from group to group. At last a man sat up and said: 'Yes, I'm Poldark. Who wants me?' 'One of your own blood,' said Ross. 'Who else?' There was a startled oath, and a thin man scrambled to his feet. He had been lying, his back propped against a tree, his scabbard across his knees. He peered in the uncertain starlight. 'By the Lord God! It's Uncle Ross!' 'Geoffrey Charles! I never ~ Winston Graham

Has anyone ever told you that you're unbearably rude?" she returned, facing him again.
"Why, yes. You have on several occasions, as I recall. If you care to apologize for that, however, I'll be happy to escort you wherever you wish to go."
A flush crept up her cheeks, coloring her delicate, ivory skin. "I will never apologize to you," she snapped. "And you may go straight to Hades."
He hadn't expected her to apologize, yet he couldn't help suggesting it every so often. "Very well. Upstairs, first door on the left. I'll be in Hades, if you should require my services. ~ Suzanne Enoch

It's totally mistaken to suppose that an armed escort is going to give a journalist any protection - on the contrary, journalists who turn up surrounded by armed personnel are just turning themselves into targets and in even worse danger. ~ Kate Adie

And you, my lord?" Vivi said politely. "Are you not tired after your long day?" "No. I find myself feeling rather energized." Ella and Vivi looked at each other, and Vivi tried again, with a slightly firmer tone, "Perhaps you would feel differently if you found your chamber, my lord." "I don't think so." The corner of Will's mouth twitched, betraying his amusement. "William, you would try the patience of a saint," Vivi said with a smile. "Must I ask you to escort two young women frightened of the dark upstairs?" He laughed aloud. "You two? Frightened of something? I find that very difficult to believe." Ella ~ Sarah MacLean

Towards the end of it [working as an escort girl] I could feel myself drifting towards a liquor habit and I had a few minor mental breakdowns due to a what I felt like was a constant chipping away at my personhood (guys thinking I would have unprotected sex with them if they just paid me fifty more dollars, for instance) and a few abusive clients. ~ Marie Calloway

I had always dreamed of being a professional escort but never thought that there was any real money in it. ~ Chelsea Handler

Ends Meet


1
Could be
time is practice,

balance,

the action
executed in the mind
before and after.

Where does mind end?


2
We mark a break
with what has come before,

come through the door,

down the hatch.

Not a clean break
exactly.


3
Our life was rehearsal,
Mother almost said

so that we believed
we would escort her

to the future
where she could be happy. ~ Rae Armantrout

He didn't say anything. Then he leaned closer, so that his arm touched my shoulder. A jolt ran down my body. Everyone in our little group watched, waiting for a response. "I would be honored to escort you, Katrina."
"Oh. Okay." I pulled the bathrobe collar as high as it would go to hide my flaming cheeks.
Malcolm slapped his hand on his knee, then turned to the man sitting next to us and said,way too loudly, "I'm taking Katrina to the Solstice Festival."
"Good for you kid. ~ Suzanne Selfors

To Galen's relief, they reached the silver and pearl gate before Rose could convince Pansy to tell her any more. He rode in the boat with Jonquil and her prince, who was not as stoic as his brothers.
"What did you eat for dinner?" the dark prince huffed.
"What do you mean?" Jonquil frowned at her escort as he rowed.
"You're so heavy, it's like you're wearing iron underthings," he panted.
"Oh!" Jonquil whacked her prince on the shoulder with her fan. "How rude!"
When their boat reached the island and the black palace, Jonquil leaped out without waiting for assistance. She stalked into the palace ahead of everyone else, with her prince scuttling at her heels, apologizing every step of the way. ~ Jessica Day George

Phoebe was relieved to discover she would be accompanied by Westcliff's oldest son, Lord Foxhall, whom she had known her entire life. He was a big, boldly handsome man in his twenties, an avid sportsman like his father. As the earl's heir, he had been accorded a viscountcy, but he and Phoebe were far too familiar to stand on ceremony.
"Fox," she exclaimed, a wide smile crossing her face.
"Cousin Phoebe." He leaned down to kiss her cheek, his dark eyes snapping with lively humor. "It seems I'm your escort. Bad luck for you."
"To me it's good luck- how could it be otherwise?"
"With all the eligible men present, you should be with one who doesn't remember you as a little girl in pigtails, sliding down one of the banisters at Stony Cross Manor. ~ Lisa Kleypas

So that's how we end up helping Aviva pick out a male escort. Even Darcy is impressed with Eugene's organization; each profile in the boy binder has two pictures, a head shot and a full-body shot, and lists essential information: age, school, height, weight, extracurriculars, hobbies, and dance ability (which ranges from "occasional Dance Dance Revolution participation" to "so good he could back up the Biebs"). ~ Flynn Meaney

I very specifically told you to stay away from Ned Blydon."
"I chose not to follow your advice. Ned is a very nice person. Handsome, personable - a perfect escort."
"That is precisely why I wanted you to keep him at arm's length. ~ Julia Quinn

I thought you were angry with me for interfering," she said to his shoulder.
There was a smile in his voice as he answered, "Not angry. Stunned."
"Well, I couldn't let them call you a cheat when I knew perfectly well you weren't."
"I imagine I've been called worse," he said mildly. "Particularly by your hotheaded young friend Everly."
Elizabeth wondered what could be worse than being called a cheat, but good manners forbade her asking. Lifting her head, she gazed apprehensively into his eyes and asked, "You won't mean to demand satisfaction from Lord Everly at a later date, do you?"
"I hope," he teased, grinning, "that I'm not so ungrateful as to spoil all your handiwork in the card room by doing such a thing. Besides, it would be very impolite of me to kill him when you'd just made it very clear he'd already engaged himself to escort you tomorrow. ~ Judith McNaught

No, Blake, I trust you. I'd be honored to have an escort to my Escort. I'm a little afraid of the dark." Livia tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear.
"I'm not afraid of the dark at all, so this way, milady, to your chariot." Blake held out an elbow, formally. ~ Debra Anastasia

Don't make me walk back without being beside you, holding your hand." He lowered one arm from my waist to draw my hand to his lips. "I've lived for two hundred years with only the
imagination of what it would be like to touch this," - he moved my hand over his mouth, kissing each knuckle - "to hold this ... "
When my breath became weak, he lowered it from his lips, but kept it firmly in his hand. "Please allow me to escort you back to the house? ~ Nicole Williams

Do you see that man in the black Porsche?" I asked the women.
They squinted out at Ranger. "Yes," they said."Your partner."
"He's homeless. He's looking for a place to stay and he might be interested in renting Singh's room."
Mrs.Apusenja's eyes widened. "We could use the income."She looked at Nonnie and then back at Ranger. "Is he married?"
"Nope. He's single. He's a real catch."
Connie did something between a gasp and a snort and buried her head back behind the computer. "Thank you for everything." Mrs.Apusenja said. "I suppose you are not such a bad slut. I will go talk to your partner.:
"Omigod," Connie said, when the door closed behind the Apusenja's. "Ranger's going to kill you." The Apusenjas stood beside the Porsche, talkig to Ranger for a few long minutes, giving him the big sales pitch. The pitch wound down, Ranger responded, and Mrs. Apusenja looked disappointed. The two women crossed the road and got into the burgundy Escort and quickly drove away. Ranger turned his head in my direction and our eyes met. His expression was still bemused, but this time it was the sort of bemused expression a kid has when he's pulling the wings off a fly.
"Uh-Oh,"Connie said. I whipped around and faced Connie. "Quick, give me an FTA. You're backed up, right? For God's sake, give me something fast. I need a reason to stand here until he calms down!" Connie shoved a pile of folders at me. "Pick one. Any one! Oh shit, he's getting out of his car.".... ~ Janet Evanovich

We were able to successfully downplay the whole going-to-the-dance-together thing to our parents. I guess our history of acting like we despise each other worked in our favor, because they actually believed that I changed my mind at the last minute and called Ryder to take me--just because he lives down the street. And then, since I didn't have an escort, Ryder offered to stand in.
Mama saw this as a perfect opportunity to remind me what a gentleman Ryder is--how selfless and generous and downright perfect he is. Only, this time, I agreed wither. Secretly, of course. ~ Kristi Cook

Ralph, escort Ms. MacKinnon to get her stuff. Come right back out, and don't touch anything near the crime scene.
I won't.
Oh, I know you won't. I was talking to Ralphie here. He gets a little ahead of himself sometimes, if you know what I mean.
Aw, Ma-I mean Chief-what'd you have to say that for? ~ Jane Taylor Starwood

When the British retreated after a skirmish in the revolutionary war, American troops found Masonic regalia and a book of constitutions left in the encampment the British had abandoned. General Washington himself returned the Masonic artifacts to the British troops, under a flag of truce, accompanied by an escort and a guard of honor. ~ Steven L. Harrison

Strangers will show you the way

But a true friend will escort you,

to your destination.

1st November, 2006 ~ Tushar Mangl

This is on top rundown of our rundown of Delhi escorts on account of their notoriety among different escort benefits in Delhi. This is where just genuine young ladies get declared. Delhi Companion comes quite close to VIP escorts in Delhi. Their expert group of organizers loves to manage VIP customers to present with tolerable nature of escort administration. ~ Sangitasharma

The delicious faces of children, the beauty of school-girls, "the sweet seriousness of sixteen," the lofty air of well-born, well-bred boys, the passionate histories in the looks and manners of youth and early manhood, and the varied power in all that well-known company that escort us through life,
we know how these forms thrill, paralyze, provoke, inspire, and enlarge us. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

At the last, when we die, we have the dear angels for our escort on the way. They who can grasp the whole world in their hands can surely also guard our souls, that they make that last journey safely. ~ Martin Luther

Escort Mr. Ravenel up to my private apartments, where it seems I'll be giving counsel to yet another of my daughter's tormented suitors. This must be a penance for my misspent youth. ~ Lisa Kleypas

May I escort you inside, Mrs. Hartt?"
Livia bit her lower lip and nodded.
Blake scooped her up.
To be carried was such a basic thing. And yet it felt…Primal? Almost. Religious? Maybe.
She focused on his deep, even breaths as he maneuvered through the doorway. Livia laughed a little at herself. She was grateful for the simple act of Blake's breathing. ~ Debra Anastasia

You're an escort?" Her already large eyes widened further. I reached for one strap of her backpack and snapped it against her shoulder, careful not to touch her, then smirked.

"I prefer the term sexual plumber."

She snorted "Oh, God."

"Yeah, They sometimes call me that, too. ~ L.J. Shen

Only the story can continue beyond the war and the warrior. The story outlives the sound of the war drum ... The story is our escort. Without it we are blind ... It is the thing that sets us apart from cattle ... ~ Chinua Achebe

you couldn't find
your way out of a small shed with a map, lighted signs, and an
escort ~ Penny Reid

It's the cemetery where my father is already buried. "Great," I say. "Just make sure you leave your forwarding address." I hold the keypad away from my ear and punch the pound button. "Got another call coming in," I lie. "At this hour?" "It's an escort service," I joke. "I don't like to keep Peaches waiting . . ." "You're going to be the death of me, Leo," my mother says with a sigh. "Sons of Abraham Cemetery. Got it," I say. "I love you, Ma." "I loved you first," she replies. "So what am I supposed to tell my podiatrist about Irene?" "If she keeps wearing heels she'll wind ~ Jodi Picoult

We might cause a scandal, a young lady and a gentleman going to the kitchen without an escort. We should shock them by baking something together. ~ Jessica Cluess

Don't worry. I'm only your escort tonight. I would offer to protect you from the drunken attentions of the other men, but I know all to well that you're quite capagble of holding your own. You're probably armed. Right?
Always. ~ Maria V. Snyder

There were twenty-three females on the Keltar estate--not counting Gwen, Chloe, herself, or the cat--Gabby knew, because shortly after Adam had become visible last night, she'd met each and every one, from tiniest tot to tottering ancient.
It had begun with a plump, thirtyish maid popping in to pull the drapes for the evening and inquire if the MacKeltars "were wishing aught else?" The moment her bespectacled gaze had fallen on Adam, she'd begun stammering and tripping over her own feet. It had taken her a few moments to regain a semblance of coordination, but she'd managed to stumble from the library, nearly upsetting a lamp and a small end table in her haste.
Apparently it had been haste to alert the forces, for a veritable parade had ensued: a blushing curvaceous maid had come offering a warm-up of tear (they'd not been having any), followed by a giggling maid seeking a forgotten dust cloth (which--was anyone surprised?--was nowhere to be found), then a third one looking for a waylaid broom (yeah, right--they swept castles at midnight in Scotland--who believed that?), then a fourth, fifth, and sixth inquiring if the Crystal Chamber would do for Mr. Black (no one seemed to care what chamber might do for her; she half-expected to end up in an outbuilding somewhere). A seventh, eighth, and ninth had come to announce that his chamber was ready would he like an escort? A bath drawn? Help undressing? (Well, okay, maybe they hadn't actually asked the last, but their e ~ Karen Marie Moning

A slave in serving dress presented Kestrel with wine, then led the way to an open solarium with a low fountain and hothouse flowers. Musicians played discreetly behind an ebony screen as guests greeted each other, some chatting where they stood, others retreating for quiet conversations on the stone benches lining the fountain.
Kestrel turned to face Arin.
His eyes were dazed with anger, his hands clenched.
"Arin," she began, concerned, but his gaze flicked away and settled on some point across the room. "Your friends are here," he said.
She followed his line of sight to see Jess and Ronan laughing at something Benix had said.
"Dismiss me," Arin said.
"What?" she said, though in fact he was the only escort in the room. The slaves who threaded through the crowd were servers, and Irex's.
"Join your friends. I don't want to stay here anymore. Send me to the kitchens."
She took a breath, then nodded. He spun on his heel and was gone.
She felt instantly alone. She hadn't expected this. But when she asked herself what she had expected, she had a foolish image of her and Arin sitting on a bench together.
Kestrel looked up at the glass roof, a pyramid of purple sky. She saw the sharp cut of the moon, and remembered Enai saying that it was best to recognize the things one cannot change.
She crossed the room to greet her friends. ~ Marie Rutkoski

One o' clock. With her fork she would tantalize the heart of an adoring artichoke, while her escort served himself up in the thick, dripping sentences of an enraptured man.
Four o'clock: her little feet moving to melody, her face distinct in the crowd, her partner happy as a petted puppy and mad as the immemorial hatter ... ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

I should imagine that in my time I have eaten enough horses to provide a royal escort. ~ Auberon Waugh

There seemed to be some...irregularity in your coming here," the priest said delicately. Thus did he characterize her arrival, bruised and battered, in the arms of her betrothed rather than under the decorous escort of her family. ~ Josie Litton

Hero might have enjoyed the evening spent at Almack's Assembly Rooms, but it had not been one of unmixed pleasure for her escort, while for one other person it had been an evening of almost unleavened annoyance. Miss Milborne, seeing the most ardent of her admirers enter the rooms with Hero on his arm, had suffered something in the nature of a shock. Never before had she seen George in attendance on any other lady than herself! When he came to Almack's it was to form one of her court; and when she did not dance with him he had a gratifying habit of leaning against the wall and watching her, instead of soliciting some other damsel to dance with him. Now, on the heels of the most obdurate quarrel they had had, here he was, looking perfectly cheerful, actually laughing at something Hero had said to him, his handsome head bent a little to catch her words. Hero, too, was in very good looks: in fact, Miss Milborne had not known that her little friend could appear to such advantage. She could never, of course, aspire to such beauty as belonged to the Incomparable, but Miss Milborne was no fool, and she was obliged to own that there was something particularly taking in the bride's smile and mischievous twinkle. Watching George, she came to the reluctant conclusion that he was fully sensible of his partner's charm. He had given his adored Isabella nothing more than a common bow upon catching sight of her, and it was plain that he meant to devote his evening to Hero. Miss Milborne coul ~ Georgette Heyer

When Alex moved as if to escort Lina, Ian gave him a fierce look and stepped forward to offer his arm.
"If I may, my lady," he said politely.
She raised her eyebrows much as his mother might have done. But she put a hand on the forearm he'd extended and smiled demurely. "You are most kind, sir."
"Sakes, lass," he muttered. "Do you mock my courtesy? Can I do nowt to win your approval?"
She gave him a direct look and said in a normal tone, "Faith, sir, do you seek my approval? You must know that you have earned my gratitude."
"But you still disapprove of how I won it, do you not?"
"That is unfair," she said. "I have already admitted having mixed feelings about that. I do still believe that one should think before leaping into danger."
"What makes you imagine that I do not?"
"I know you don't always think before you act. ~ Amanda Scott

When you get inside, go to the stairs and one of them will escort you up. Go directly to the stairs," he said pointedly. "Try not to get in trouble or cause a riot on the way."
"I don't think that's a fair statement. Life isn't always chaotic around me."
"Like when isn't it?"
"Like when I'm ... " I thought a minute. "Alone," I finished pissily. "Or asleep. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Yeah," I said. "I think you're jealous."
"Of what?"
"That I can pass and you can't."
He opened his mouth and emotions flowed over his face like water; anger, humor, denial. He finally settled on a smile, but it wasn't a happy one. "You really are a bitch, aren't you?"
I nodded. "You don't pull on my chain and I won't pull on yours."
"Deal," he said. The smile flashed wider. "Now, allow me to escort your lily white ass to the dining room."
I shook my head. "Lead on, tall, dark, and studly, as long as I get to watch your ass while we walk down the hall."
"Only if you promise to tell me how you like the view."
I widened my eyes. "You mean give you a critique on your butt?"
He nodded and the smile looked happy now.
"Are you this big an egotist or just trying to embarrass me?"
"Guess."
"Both," I said.
The smile spread to a grin. "You are as smart as you look. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

I'm so excited I had a seven-car police motorcycle escort. I've had escorts before, but nothing like this ... I'm really in awe, coming here and seeing so many cars, so much enthusiasm. ~ Tommy Lasorda

I know. You're a male escort, and you were on your way to your latest…what are female clients called? Not Johns…Jean's?"
He choked on his cracker, and Bree reached over and patted his back until his coughing fit passed. "Afraid not, darling." He wheezed.
"Male stripper?"
He snorted. "I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted by that."
"Some kind of business tycoon, right?" Bree asked. "A pretty Donald Trump?"
"Pretty? Oh dear."
Bree raised her hands. "Handsome. Handsome. Better? ~ E. Jamie

We'll burn those old clothes, my lady--they're ruined." And she pointed to where she'd laid out a long, heavy cotton shirt, and one of the blue and black-and-white tunics, and a pair of leggings. Renselaeus's colors.
"I don't mind putting that dress back on, dirty or not," I said. "I'm used to dirt."
She gave me a friendly shrug but shook her head. "Orders."
I considered that as I rinsed the last of the sandsoap from my hair and twisted it to get the water out. Orders from whom? Once again my mind filled with recent memories. More awake now, I knew that the rescue at Chovilun had been no dream. Was it possible that the Marquis had seen the justice of our cause and had switched sides? The escort, the humane treatment--surely that meant I was being sent home. Once again I felt relief and gratitude. As soon as I got to the castle I'd write a fine letter of thanks. No, I'd get Oria to write down my words, I decided, picturing the elegant Marquis. At least as embarrassing as had been the idea of waking up in his arms again was the idea of his trying to read my terrible handwriting and worse spelling. ~ Sherwood Smith

Officials are the only guys who can rob you and then get a police escort out of the stadium. ~ Ron Bolton

When I can't fall asleep at night it's not because of work or school or Amber or Bekah. It's you. You're the one that drives me crazy."
I shake my head because it makes no sense. "Have you ever thought about what people will think? What they'll say when they see us together holding hands?"
"You never struck me as the type to give a shit what everyone else thinks." His jaw twitches for a moment before he lowers his voice and says, "I want to go everywhere with you. I want to show you off. I want to wear a cheap suit and be your escort for that ridiculous pageant. ~ Julie Murphy

My boyfriend's idea of a lesson was to take me on a black diamond run in the middle of a hail storm and say, 'Go!' Ski patrol had to escort me to another lift to get me down the mountain. No, that wasn't humiliating, not at all. ~ Claudia Black

Escort service," Puck replied, shifting to the side so that Twiggs could get a clear view
of me. Those beady eyes fixed on me, blinking in confusion. Then, suddenly, they got
huge and round, as Twiggs looked back at Puck.
"Is ... is that ... ?"
"It is."
"Does she ... ?"
"No."
"Oh, my." Twiggs opened the door wide, beckoning with a sticklike arm. ~ Julie Kagawa

If the price I have to pay to see Jewish children playing without an armed escort are freeways across the desert and a take-a-way on every street corner throughout the Middle East, then I'm all for it. ~ Ray Stone

Come, come," I said. "You may be a lord someday, but you aren't one yet. No need for the courtly manners, and certainly not the moody temper. If you're to be my escort tonight, I insist you be a cheery one. You can even insult me if you like. It always makes you feel better. ~ Julie Berry

Alleging that the Mormons had committed a long list of treasonous acts, in May 1857 Buchanan dispatched a contingent of federal officials to restore the rule of law in Utah, including a new territorial governor to replace Brigham Young. More ominously, the new president ordered twenty-five hundred heavily armed soldiers to escort these officials into Salt Lake City and subdue the Saints if necessary. For all intents and purposes, the United States had declared war on the Mormons. ~ Jon Krakauer

We woke up before the sun, hitched the oxen to the wagon, herded the cattle out of the Platt's pasture where they had spent the night, and started off again on the road toward Peekskill. Peekskill was on the Hudson River. We would turn south there and go down the river about five miles to Verplancks Point. From North Salem to Peekskill was more than twenty miles. It would take us all day to make fifteen miles to our next stop, Father's friends south of Mohegan. We were supposed to pick up another escort. I hoped we would find it soon. I didn't like traveling through this country alone, and I kept looking around all the time for galloping horsemen. ~ James Lincoln Collier

Mr Cobb was my escort. Such a nice escort, Mr Cobb. So attentive. You should see him sober. I should see him sober. Somebody should see him sober. I mean, just for the record. So it could become a part of history, that brief flashing moment, soon buried in time, but never forgotten - when Larry Cobb was sober. ~ Raymond Chandler

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Adelia began to get cross. Why was it women who were to blame for everything - everything, from the Fall of Man to these blasted hedges?

"We are not in a labyrinth, my lord," she said clearly.

"Where are we, then?"

"It's a maze."

"Same difference." Puffing at the horse: "Get back, you great cow."

"No, it isn't. A labyrinth has only one path and you merely have to follow it. It's a symbol of life or, rather, of life and death. Labyrinths twist and turn, but they have a beginning and an end, through darkness into light."

Softening, and hoping that he would, too, she added, "Like Ariadne's. Rather beautiful, really."

"I don't want mythology, mistress, beautiful or not, I want to get to that sodding tower. What's a maze when it's at home?"

"It's a trick. A trick to confuse. To amaze."

"And I suppose Mistress Clever-boots knows how to get us out?"

"I do, actually." God's rib, he was sneering at her, sneering. She'd a mind to stay where she was and let him sweat.

"Then in the name of Christ, do it."

"Stop bellowing at me," she yelled at him. "You're bellowing."

She saw his teeth grit in the pretense of a placatory smile; he always had good teeth. Still did. Between them, he said, "The Bishop of Saint Albans presents his compliments to Mistress Adelia and please to escort him out of this hag's hole, for the love of God. How will you do it?"Ariana Franklin

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