Everytime I Look Into Your Eyes Quotes

Someone stepped through the garage doorway. I squinted against the light. Mad Rogan.
He wore a dark suit. It fit him like a glove, from the broad shoulders and powerful chest to the flat stomach and long legs. Well. A visit from the dragon. Never good.
He started toward me. The track vehicle on his left slid out of his way, as if pushed aside by an invisible hand. The Humvee on his right slid across the floor. I raised my eyebrows.
He kept coming, his blue eyes clear and fixed on me. I stepped back on pure instinct. My back bumped into the wall.
The multiton hover tank hovered off to the wall. So that was the secret to making it work. You just needed Mad Rogan to move it around.
Rogan closed in and stopped barely two inches from me. Anticipation squirmed through me, turning into a giddy excitement spiced with alarm.
"Hi," I said. "Are you planning on putting all of this back together the way you found it?"
His eyes were so blue. I could look into them forever. He offered me his hand. "Time to go."
"To go where?"
"Wherever you want. Pick a spot on the planet."
Wow. "No."
He leaned forward slightly. We were almost touching. "I gave you a week with your family. Now it's time to go with me. Don't be stubborn, Nevada. That kiss told me everything I needed to know. You and I both understand how this ends."
I shook my head. "How did this encounter go in your head? Did you plan on walking in here, picking me up, and carryin ~ Ilona Andrews

It's that I no longer know where I am. I seem to move around perfectly easily among people, to have perfectly normal relations with them. Is it possible, I ask myself, that all of them are participants in a crime of stupefying proportions? Am I fantasizing it all? I must be mad! Yet every day I see the evidences. The very people I suspect produce the evidence, exhibit it, offer it to me. Corpses. Fragments of corpses that they have bought for money.

It is as if I were to visit friends, and to make some polite remark about the lamp in their living room, and they were to say, "Yes, it's nice, isn't it? Polish-Jewish skin it's made of, we find that's best, the skins of young Polish-Jewish virgins." And then I go to the bathroom and the soap wrapper says, "Treblinka – 100% human stereate." Am I dreaming, I say to myself? What kind of house is this?

Yet I'm not dreaming. I look into your eyes, into Norma's, into the children's, and I see only kindness, human kindness. Calm down, I tell myself, you are making a mountain out of a molehill. This is life. Everyone else comes to terms with it, why can't you? Why can't you? ~ J.M. Coetzee

Young Bindo Altovini, looking out from time, made a perfect coalition with the mountains, the sky, and the tall redheaded woman who had bent over just slightly to examine a raging battle that was long over. Alessandro imagined that Bindo Altovini was saying, half with longing, half with delight, "These are the things in which I was so helplessly caught up, the waves that took me, what I loved. When light filled my eyes and I was restless and could move, I knew not what all the color was about, but only that I had a passion to see. And now that I am still, I pass on to you my liveliness and my life, for you will be taken, as once I was, and although you must fight beyond your capacity to fight and feel beyond your capacity to feel, remember that it ends in perfect peace, and you will be as still and content as am I, for whom centuries are not even seconds."

In the eyes of Bindo Altoviti, Alessandro saw wisdom and amusement, and he knew why the subjects of paintings and photographs seemed to look from the past as if with clairvoyance. Even brutal and impatient men, when frozen in time, assumed expressions of extraordinary compassion, as if they had reflected the essence of their redemption back into the photograph. In a sense they were still living. ~ Mark Helprin

She was prepared for him to shut her down, when Behr shrugged a shoulder and said, "Yeah, sounds good. I think it's a good idea for you to get out of the house. But," he said, stepping back into the kitchen and leveling her with a hard look, "only if I tag along."
"What? Why?" Cheyenne questioned, not understanding the need for chaperones.
"Because it's safer that way," he reasoned. "I have a couple things to take care of first, so it will probably be a day or two. I expect you to wait for me, though, Cheyenne," he said, his brilliant blue eyes holding her in place. "It's safer that way."
She was preparing to argue when she realized that she wasn't altogether sure she wanted to venture out on her own yet anyway. It might be a shock to her system after locking herself away for so long. For laughs, she decided to give him a hard time anyway.
"But…" she started. He cut her off with an upraised hand.
"No buts," he said sternly. "It's not safe and you know it, and besides, that's what you have two strapping young men like us for." He clapped a grinning Dehstroy on the back.
Cheyenne threw her head back and laughed.
"You, young? Ha!"
"What?" Behr said, acting offended. "I'm young."
"Prove it," Cheyenne challenged. "Show me your birth certificate." When he pursed his lips, she laughed some more. "What's wrong? Didn't they make birth certificates yet when you were born? No?" She looked between the men, taking in their sheepish expres ~ Brandi Salazar

Writing about the futility of trying to force a wolf into a vehicle, Martino describes the final stage of the conflict. The italics are hers:

"But if I continue, perhaps muttering 'Get up you lazy old dusty thing,' The wolf grabs my arm in his teeth, snarling, as if to say, Look, move me where I don't want to go, and we're going to have problems. Your problems will be bigger than mine. He then looks at me with a frank arresting stare, the strength of the mountain rumbling in his eyes. ~ Teresa Tsimmu Martino

When we pull back into the castle courtyard, James is waiting. And he does not look happy. Actually he looks like a blond Hulk . . . right before he goes smash. Sarah sees it too.

"He's miffed."

"Yep."

We get out of the car and she turns so fast there's a breeze. "I should go find Penny. 'Bye."

I call after her. "Chicken!"

She just waves her hand over her shoulder.

Slowly, I approach him. Like an explorer, deep in the jungles of the Amazon, making first contact with a tribe that has never seen the outside world. And I hold out my peace offering.

It's a Mega Pounder with cheese.

"I got you a burger."

James snatches it from my hand angrily. But . . . he doesn't throw it away.

He turns to one of the men behind him. "Mick, bring it here."

Mick - a big, truck-size bloke - brings him a brown paper bag. And James's cold blue eyes turn back to me.

"After speaking with your former security team, I had an audience with Her Majesty the Queen last year when you were named heir. Given your history of slipping your detail, I asked her permission to ensure your safety by any means necessary, including this."

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a children's leash - the type you see on ankle-biters at amusement parks, with a deranged-looking monkey sticking its head out of a backpack, his mouth wide and gaping, like he's about to eat whoever's wearin ~ Emma Chase

WILL WORK FOR FOOD © 2013 Lyrics & Music by Michele Jennae
There he was with a cardboard sign,
Will Work For Food
Saw him on the roadside,
As I took my kids to school
I really didn't have time to stop,
Already running late
Found myself pulling over,
Into the hands of fate
The look in his eyes was empty,
But he held out his hand
I knew my kids were watching,
As I gave him all I had
My heart in my throat I had to ask,
"What brought you here?"
He looked up and straight into my eyes,
I wanted to disappear.

CHORUS
He said… Do you think I really saw myself,
Standing in this light
Forgotten by society,
After fighting for your rights
WILL WORK FOR FOOD,
WILL DIE FOR YOU
I AM JUST A FORGOTTEN SOLDIER,
I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO
v. 2 He put the money in his pocket,
Then he took me by the hand
Thank you dear for stopping by,
I am sure that you have plans
He nodded toward my children,
Watching from afar
It's time they were off to school,
You should get in the car
My eyes welled up and tears fell down,
I couldn't say a word
Here this man with nothing to his name,
Showing me his concern
I knew then that the lesson,
That today must be taught
Wouldn't come from textbooks,
And it could not be bought
CHORUS
He said… Do you think I reall ~ Michele Jennae

[Zach] placed his hands on her shoulders so she'd look directly into his eyes. You know, the moment I saw you, I said to myself
because all the great people talk to themselves, of course
I said, 'Zach, you have to meet that lovely lady, because she will make your life extraordinary.' I was not wrong. ~ Sarah Beth Durst

His hands came to her wrists, squeezed reflexively, before he got quickly to his feet. "You're mixing things up." Panic arrowed straight into his heart. "I told you sex complicates things."
"Yes,you did.And of course since you're the only man I've been with, how could I knew the difference between sex and love? Then again, that doesn't take into account that I'm a smart and self-aware woman, and I know the reason you're the only man I've been with is that you're the only man I've loved.Brian..."
She stepped toward him, humor flashing into her eyes when he stepped back. "I've made up my mind.You know how stubborn I am."
"I train your father's horses."
"So what? My mother groomed them."
"That's a different matter."
"Why? Oh, because she's a woman.How foolish of me not to realize we can't possibly love each other, build a life with each other.Now if you owned Royal Meadows and I worked here, then it would be all right."
"Stop making me sound ridiculous."
"I can't." She spread her hands. "You are ridiculous.I love you anyway. Really, I tried to approach it sensibly.I like doing things in a structured order that makes a beeline for the goal.But..." She shrugged, smiled. "It just doesn't want to work that way with you.I look at you and my heart,well, it just insists on taking over.I love you so much,Brian. Can't you tell me? Can't you look at me and tell me?"
He skimmed his fingertips over the bruise high on her temple. He wanted to tend ~ Nora Roberts

I am grateful to you for the rest of my life. And when I say "you," I mean every part of you, including your mind and your smile and your giggle and the mad look you get in your eyes sometimes. If you don't believe that your words have got into my soul, take a look at the painting which I took to the art show (it's called The Puppy and the Pyramid, which is what you might call a clue). But if I don't get to kiss you fairly soon, Lyd, I won't have a soul left to speak of. ~ Jaclyn Moriarty

Dalinar took one step forward, then drove his Blade point-first into the middle of the blackened glyph on the stone. He took a step back. "For the bridgemen," he said.
Sadeas blinked. Muttering voices fell silent, and the people on the field seemed too stunned, even, to breathe.
"What?"Sadeas asked.
"The Blade,"Dalinar said, firm voice carrying in the air. "In exchange for your bridgemen. All of them. Every one you have in camp. They become mine, to do with as I please, never to be touched by you again. In exchange, you get the sword."
Sadeas looked down at the Blade, incredulous. "This weapon is worth fortunes. Cities, palaces, kingdoms."
"Do we have a deal?"Dalinar asked.
"Father, no!"Adolin Kholin said, his own Blade appearing in his hand. "You - "
Dalinar raised a hand, silencing the younger man. He kept his eyes on Sadeas. "Do we have a deal?" he asked, each word sharp.
Kaladin stared, unable to move, unable to think.
Sadeas looked at the Shardblade, eyes full of lust. He glanced at Kaladin, hesitated just briefly, then reached and grabbed the Blade by the hilt. "Take the storming creatures."
Dalinar nodded curtly, turning away from Sadeas. "Let's go,"he said to his entourage.
"They're worthless, you know,"Sadeas said. "You're of the ten fools, Dalinar Kholin! Don't you see how mad you are? This will be remembered as the most ridiculous decision ever made by an Alethi highprince!"
Dalinar didn't look back. ~ Brandon Sanderson

When I put my hands on your body on your flesh I feel the history of that body. Not just the beginning of its forming in that distant lake but all the way beyond its ending. I feel the warmth and texture and simultaneously I see the flesh unwrap from the layers of fat and disappear. I see the fat disappear from the muscle. I see the muscle disappearing from around the organs and detaching iself from the bones. I see the organs gradually fade into transparency leaving a gleaming skeleton gleaming like ivory that slowly resolves until it becomes dust. I am consumed in the sense of your weight the way your flesh occupies momentary space the fullness of it beneath my palms. I am amazed at how perfectly your body fits to the curves of my hands. If I could attach our blood vessels so we could become each other I would. If I could attach our blood vessels in order to anchor you to the earth to this present time I would. If I could open up your body and slip inside your skin and look out your eyes and forever have my lips fused with yours I would. It makes me weep to feel the history of your flesh beneath my hands in a time of so much loss. It makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side to create a series of gestures to reach up around my neck to draw me nearer. All these memories will be lost in time like tears in the rain. ~ David Wojnarowicz

Mr. Normal stepped forward and offered him a Scotch bottle. "You look like you could use some."
Yeah, you think? Butch took a swig. "Thanks."
"So can we kill him now?" said the one with the goatee and the baseball hat.
Beth's man spoke harshly. "Back off, V."
"Why? He's just a human."
"And my shellan is half-human. The man doesn't die just because he's not one of us."
"Jesus, you've changed your tune." "So you need to catch up, brother." Butch got to his feet. If his death was going to be debated, he wanted in on the discussion. "I appreciate the support," he said to Beth's boy. "But I don't need it."
He went over to the guy with the hat, discreetly switching his grip on the bottle's neck in case he had to crack the damn thing over a head. He moved in tight, so their noses were almost touching. He could feel the vampire heating up, priming for a fight.
"I'm happy to take you on, asshole," Butch said. "I'll probably end up losing, but I fight dirty, so I'll make you hurt while you kill me." Then he eyed the guy's hat.
"Though I hate clocking the shit out of another Red Sox fan."
There was a shout of laughter from behind him. Someone said, "This is gonna be fun to watch."
The guy in front of Butch narrowed his eyes into slits. "You true about the Sox?"
"Born and raised in Southie. Haven't stopped grinning since '04."
There was a long pause.
The vampire snorted. "I don't like humans."
"Yeah ~ J.R. Ward

When i look into your eyes i know what you are thinking what you are feeling and that your love for me has no limit. ~ Matt Trevitz

Look into my eyes, and you will see me there
all, all that is in my heart.' 'Oh, I know what I should see there!' ... 'What would you see? Tell me?' 'There is a little black ball in the middle of your eye; I should see myself in it no bigger than that,' and she marked off about an eighth of her little finger-nail. 'There is a pool in the wood, and I look down and see myself there. That is better. Just as large as I am
not small and black like a small, small fly. ~ William Henry Hudson

every morning i see a cup of coffee
in front of my sleepy eyes but i am
starting to see things differently,
because of you.
now i see beans, once tossed in hands
and broken down in machines
and placed in bags
sent off somewhere
where the tired people gather.
i see that only because your tenderness
has taught me that we must look beyond
the body of everything and into the soul of all. ~ Christopher Poindexter

Imagine if you looked different to every person who saw you. Not, like, some people thought you were more or less attractive, but one person thinks you're a sixty-five-year-old cowboy from Wyoming complete with boots and hat and leathery skin, and the next person sees an eleven-year-old girl wearing a baseball uniform. You have no control over this, and what you look like has nothing to do with the life you have lived or even your genome. You have no idea what each person sees when they look at you. That's what fame is like. You think this sounds like beauty because we sometimes that beauty is all in the eye of the one beholding the beauty. And, indeed, we don't get to decide if we are beautiful. Different people will have different opinions, and the only person who gets to decide if I'm attractive is the person looking at me. But then there is some consensus about what attractive is. Beauty is an attribute defined by human nature and culture. I can my eyes and my lips and my boobs when I look in a mirror. I know what I look like. Fame is not this way. A person's fame is in everyone's head except their own. You could be checking into your flight at the airport and 999 people will see you as just another face in the crowd. The thousandth might think you're more famous than Jesus. As you can imagine, this makes fame pretty disorienting. You never know who knows what. You never know if someone is looking at you because you went to college with them or because they've been watchi ~ Hank Green

You have the most incredible eyes. I feel as if I can look into your soul."
Sid shivered. "Don't look too closely. ~ B. J. Daniels

Wait," he said. "Before we leave, can I, um, can I see what you really look like now?"

"Doofus. I look like your sister."

"I know. But there's more now. Right?"

It was a fair question. She said, "Okay. But you have to promise not to freak out. Just remember I'm still me, regardless of what it might look like."

"I promise."

And so it was there, in the reimagined and reconstructed memory of the kitchen she once shared with Ria, that Molly set aside her human form and showed her brother what she had become. The transition went more smoothly than it had in Bayliss's hotel room. She dialed it back when Martin flinched and shielded his eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked, momentarily consumed with a vision of bloody tears streaking Bayliss's face.

"Oh, Moll," said Martin. He was crying. Not blood, though. "They turned you into starlight. ~ Ian Tregillis

and then I look deep into your eyes
and we melt into each other
and enjoy that melting,
like those things that belong together...

(fragment from Passion beneath, chapter Passion) ~ Claudia Pavel

As Ian popped the lock and opened the car door, he turned to Phoebe. "Can you do me a favour?"
She immediately stepped toward him, fully embracing their new mature relationship. "Of course."
Ian looked pointedly over his own shoulder and said, "Tell me the truth. Does this car make my glowing ass look fat?"
She'd naturally followed the direction of his gaze, but now she looked up, hard, into his eyes. And she smiled back at him despite herself. She even laughed. "You're an idiot."
"When things get too serious, I get a rash."
She pointedly looked back down at his nether regions, despite the fact doing so made her blush. Still, she spoke coolly, dryly. "Not on your ass."
If Ian believed in love, that would've been it for him. Instantly. Enthrallingly. Eternally. Instead, he just laughed. "Thank God for that. See if there's anything remotely clothinglike in the backseat or the trunk. ~ Suzanne Brockmann

Emptying Town"

I want to erase your footprints
from my walls. Each pillow
is thick with your reasons. Omens

fill the sidewalk below my window: a woman
in a party hat, clinging
to a tin-foil balloon. Shadows

creep slowly across the tar, someone yells, "Stop!"
and I close my eyes. I can't watch

as this town slowly empties, leaving me
strung between bon-voyages, like so many clothes
on a line, the white handkerchief

stuck in my throat. You know the way Jesus

rips open his shirt
to show us his heart, all flaming and thorny,
the way he points to it. I'm afraid

the way I'll miss you will be this obvious.

I have a friend who everyone warns me
is dangerous, he hides
bloody images of Jesus
around my house, for me to find

when I come home; Jesus
behind the cupboard door, Jesus tucked

into the mirror. He wants to save me
but we disagree from what. My version of hell
is someone ripping open his shirt

and saying, Look what I did for you. ~ Nick Flynn

So Captain Jack's come a-courtin'." Her hands stilled on the basket. "Who?" "The tall Shawnee who come by your cabin." The tall one. Lael felt a small surge of triumph at learning his name. Captain Jack. Oddly, she felt no embarrassment. Lifting her shoulders in a slight shrug, she continued pulling the vines into a tight circle. "He come by, but I don't know why." "Best take a long look in the mirror, then." Lael's eyes roamed the dark walls. Ma Horn didn't own one. "Beads and a blanket, was it?" She nodded and looked back down. "I still can't figure out why some Shawnee would pay any mind to a white girl like me." Ma Horn chuckled, her face alight in the dimness. "Why, Captain Jack's as white as you are." "What?" she blurted, eyes wide as a child's. Ma Horn's smile turned sober. "He's no Indian, Shawnee or otherwise, so your pa says. He was took as a child from some-wheres in North Carolina. All he can remember of his past life is his white name - Jack. ~ Laura Frantz

Jane knew from Dom's flinch that he'd been hoping for a different response, but she couldn't help it--she spoke the truth.
When he acted like a gentleman, as he had at dinner, she remembered exactly why she'd fallen in love with him. But when he reminded her of how he'd made assumptions and, worse yet, used those assumptions to decide her future for her, she couldn't bear it. Because he was still doing it, still demanding his way and dictating terms and ignoring her concerns.
She understood the courtly gentleman. It was the autocratic devil she had trouble understanding.
And she might as well admit it. She twisted her head to look up at him. "I don't know how I feel about you anymore."
The pain that slashed over his features only confused her further. Was he genuinely hurt by the thought that he'd killed her love? Or was his pride merely bruised because he hadn't been able to step right back into her life as if the past meant nothing?
"At least tell me the truth about Blakeborough," he said hoarsely. "Do you love him?"
"Why does it matter?"
His eyes ate her up. "If you do, I'll keep my distance. I'll stay out of your life from now on."
"You've been doing that easily enough for the past twelve years," she snapped. "I don't see why my feelings for Edwin should change anything."
"Easily? It was never easy, I assure you." His expression was stony. "And you're avoiding the question. Are you in love with Blakeborough?"
How she wishe ~ Sabrina Jeffries

He dropped to one knee before her. "Sophia MacFarlane, though I've been every sort of fool there is, and though I've stolen from you and lied to you, as you've stolen from me and lied to me, will you please marry me? To keep me out of trouble, if nothing else."
She gave a hiccup of a laugh, her eyes moist with tears. "Only if you, Dougal MacLean, will have me. After all I did to save MacFarlane House, I now realize that without people in it, the people I love, it's nothing more than an empty building. My home is with you, inside your heart."
Dougal swept Sophia into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. Then, laughing, he set her back on her feet. "Come, my love, let's find my sister. She spent a good part of the afternoon telling me what a fool I was.I have to show her that she was wrong."
"And you need my help to do that?"
"It would be a great boon if you'd cling to my arm and look absurdly happy."
Sophia chuckled. "I think I can manage that."
It was a noisy, contentious group that moved down the hall, as the earl and Red continued to snipe at each other, and Sir Reginald felt he needed to explain his improper embrace with Sophia even though everyone attempted to dissaude him. ~ Karen Hawkins

I loved my mother. It took me a long time to forgive her for leaving us. It took me an even longer time to forgive my father for his part in making her leave. But I did, because when it comes down to it… you either die alone, surrounded by the ghosts of all the people who ever let you down, or you live a life full of flawed people whose imperfections you've made a choice to overlook. I don't know about you but if given the choice, I'll pick the imperfections every time. I choose understanding over resentment, love over hate, forgiveness over loneliness.' I look at Parker. 'Some of us are still working on the forgiveness part.'
His eyes are still red, but his lips tug up in a half smile.
I take a deep breath. 'You don't get to pick your family. You don't get to choose the people who work their way into your heart and build a home there.' My eyes move to Nate. 'And life is too damn short not to spend it with the people who matter. Not to say I love you when you still can. Not to hold each other close and admit, out loud, You matter to me. My life wouldn't be the same without you. ~ Julie Johnson

Someday, I said, when we're old and gray, I'm going to look at you lying in bed beside me, just like this, and I'm going to look into your eyes and know that it's only ever been you. And that is going to be the great joy of my life, Bree Prescott. ~ Mia Sheridan

I did," Henric said, with a triumphant look.
"Oh," Meena said, opening the book to the page 74, the one from her dream. "You mean this
prince?" She pointed at the illustration of Lucifer.
Henric's grin faltered slightly. "Precisely."
"He's not a prince," Meena said. "As you know perfectly well, he's a fallen angel. And what was
Lucien's mother?"
"A p-princess," Henric stammered. But there was terror in his eyes.
"No," Lucien said, shaking his head. "She was an angel."
Meena swung around to look at him. Tears glittered in her eyes as she gazed up into his, which
had gone back to their normal deep brown.
"Yes, Lucien," she said, holding the book open in front of him. "That's why Henric was trying to
keep this from you. Because he realized it was the one thing that might help you remember what your
mother always taught you. You, of all people, really do have a choice. You can choose to be good . . .
because you are part good. No matter how hard you try to be the devil's son, you've still got an angel for
a mother. ~ Meg Cabot

A rustle of wings and a hawk feather drifts down to me. Snatching it from the air, I look up into the trees, but nothing's there. So I tuck the feather into my hair.

"What are you doing?"

My stomach leaps into my throat, and I jump up, stumbling backward, and fall on my butt in the middle of the path. In the tree above me, a teenage boy perches on a branch. He's dressed in traditional deerskin breeches, a talon necklace around his neck, but rather than moccasins, his feet are bare. He is shirtless, and lean muscles cord his body.

His intense eyes capture my attention. They're like golden fathomless pools. I could get lost in them.

"Don't your feet get hurt, walking barefoot on the forest floor?" I ask.

"I rarely walk." He drops down in front of me. His face is so close that I take a step back and thump into a tree. He leans toward me and sniffs. "You smell different. What are you?"

"I'm a girl." I can't take my gaze from his.

"No, humans stink. You smell…" He sniffs my hair and grins. "You smell good."

"Is there a reason that you're invading my space? I have somewhere to be." My voice cracks.

He tugs one of my braids and winks at me. My pulse quickens, and my breath catches in my throat. His eyes study me with intensity, and he leans closer. Is he going to kiss me? ~ Rita J. Webb

You sound surprised."
"Not surprised, really. It's just that…." Heller flashed me a sheepish look. "I haven't actually told him I love him."
"Really?" I assumed he had. Didn't mates do that?
"Really, and I don't know why I haven't since I started falling in love with him the moment I looked into those sexy gunmetal eyes of his. Gods, those eyes of his. It's like rolling in catnip."
I leaned against my truck. Oh, this was almost too good. "Is this you waxing poetically?"
"Don't hate me because I have great hair and a way with words. Jeez, Remi, I do. I do love him. Wow." Heller looked at me, a happy smile plastered on his face. "I feel so much lighter now that I said it. I love him."
"Of course you do. He's your mate."
Heller's smiled
dipped. "It's not that simple, and you damn well know it. Are you saying you love Marshell?"
"Whoa, there." I held up my hands - like that was going to stop him. "I just met him. ~ M.A. Church

Loving you will always be easy because when I look into your eyes I know you see the real me. ~ Rachel Van Dyken

Plus, I can't look at him the same since I ran into Mrs. Marino at our family reunion. It's not comforting to learn you've made out with your cousin."
"Third cousin once removed," I argued. "It's hardly incest."
"Life is like a box of chocolates, Lisa," Katie noted around a half-chewed carrot stick. "You never know what you're going to get."
Lisa narrowed her eyes, confused. "Did she just quote Forrest Gump at me?"
"It's Matt's fault," I said. "She lost a bet and now anytime his name gets mentioned, she has sixty seconds to drop a relevant movie quote."
"That's insane."
"Yup," Katie piped in, "insanity tuns in my family. Its practically gallops."
"Classic." I high-fived her. ~ Cecily White

I do smile thinking of you
How could that not be true
Every time I look into your eyes
I fall madly in love with you ~ Ron Bishop