For Me Or Against Me Quotes

I hope that no American will waste his franchise and throw away his vote by voting either for me or against me solely on account of my religious affiliation. It is not relevant. ~ John F. Kennedy

I have always tried to drive a car that was better than me, and race against people who were better than me. If you are surrounded by people who are as good as you, or not as good, how are you going to learn? ~ Joey Logano

As Joss showed up to start work on the new season, Barr gathered everyone on staff and made a speech about how the tabloids were obsessed with her and had sources among the crew feeding them details of her personal life. Joss, who had heard about tabloid drama and the staff conflicts, anticipated a speech that would bring everybody closer: "It's us against the world, and dammit, we've got good work to do here, let's all get it done." Instead, Roseanne told the writers they had better keep their mouths shut or they would all be fired. It was a plot twist that he wasn't expecting. "It made me realize … that every time somebody opens their mouth they have an opportunity to do one of two things - connect or divide. Some people inherently divide, and some people inherently connect," Joss said. "Connecting is the most important thing, and actually an easy thing to do. I try to make a connection with someone every time I talk to them, even if I'm firing them…. People can be treated with respect. That is one of the most important things a show runner can do, is make everybody understand that we're all involved, that we're all on the same level. ~ Amy Pascale

Adam has to work to defend himself against me and I'm exhausting him. I'm making him sick and I'm weakening his body and if he ever slips again. If he ever forgets. If he ever makes a mistake or loses focus or becomes too aware of the fact that he's using his gift to control what I might do - ~ Tahereh Mafi

I remembered from movies and TV that a human being striking a window could cause it to shatter, but the glass was too strong or I was too weak. My body didn't do much anymore when I put it to things. I didn't even make much noise pounding my fist against the glass: the ones that turned to look dismissed me almost before they had swiveled their heads. I might have been a painting of a hysterical female, paused in motion and screaming decoratively. But my throat was going raw, and my hands hurt dully. ~ Alexandra Kleeman

I am blotting out pieces of my life. I am blotting out everything but this. But him. I exhale as he brushes against me, my body beginning to uncurl, to loosen at his fingertips. I am letting him wash over me, drown every part of me that I don't need in order to kiss or to listen or to smile or to want. This is what I want. This is my drug. The pain, both skin-deep and deeper, is finally gone. Everything is gone but the quiet.
And the quiet is wonderful. ~ Victoria Schwab

Two small figures were beating against the rock; the girl had fainted and lay on the the boy's arm. With a last effort Peter pulled her up the rock and then lay down beside her. Even as he also fainted he saw that the water was raising, He knew that they would soon be drowned, but he could do no more.
As they lay side by side a mermaid caught Wendy by the feet, and began pulling her softly into the water. Peter feeling her slip from him, woke with a start, and was just in time to draw her back. But he had to tell her the truth.
"We are on the rock, Wendy," he said, "but it is growing smaller. Soon the water will be over it."
She did not understand even now.
"We must go," she said, almost brightly.
"Yes," he answered faintly.
"Shall we swim or fly, Peter?"
He had to tell her.
"Do you think you could swim or fly as far as the island, Wendy, without my help?"
She had to admit she was too tired.
He moaned.
"What is it?" she asked, anxious about him at once.
"I can't help you, Wendy. Hook wounded me. I can neither fly nor swim."
"Do you mean we shall both be downed?"
"Look how the water is raising."
They put their hands over their eyes to shut out the sight. They thought they would soon be no more. As they sat thus something brushed against Peter as light as a kiss, and stayed there, as if to say timidly, "Can I be of any us?" It was the tail of a kite, which Michael had made some days before. It had torn i ~ J.M. Barrie

We are being offered a psychopathic and psychotic moral attitude ... it is psychopathic because this is a total detachment from the, from the well-being of human beings. It, this so easily rationalizes the slaughter of children. Ok, just think about the Muslims at this moment who are blowing themselves up, convinced that they are agents of God's will. There is absolutely nothing that Dr. Craig can s - can say against their behavior, in moral terms, apart from his own faith-based claim that they're praying to the wrong God. If they had the right God, what they were doing would be good, on Divine Command theory.
Now, I'm obviously not saying that all that Dr. Craig, or all religious people, are psychopaths and psychotics, but this to me is the true horror of religion. It allows perfectly decent and sane people to believe by the billions, what only lunatics could believe on their own. ~ Sam Harris

Are you all right? With your Guild, I mean?"
Alain considered the question. "They suspect me of being attracted to a Mechanic. They are right, but so far lack proof. They do not suspect that I love you, or who you are, but I have no doubt of what they will do if they discover either of those things."
"Oh, blazes." Mari lowered her head to rest her brow against the cool stone of the fortification. "I have ruined your life."
"You have given me back my life. ~ Jack Campbell

I've always had a massive fascination with the modern day cowboys. Modern day outlaws or going against the system, and that's always been very intriguing to me. ~ Theo Rossi

It felt good to scrub my skin, as if I was removing everything that felt dead about me. I was the "queen of skin care." Who knew that simply exfoliating my skin until raw (which I knew better than to do but now couldn't resist) would one day be what was left of my skin care regimen? My daily cleansing and moisturizing, weekly hydrating and purifying masks, along with monthly photo facials, glycolic peels, or microdermabrasion, was down to "super-scrub Saturdays." Pampering was a thing of the past. No more sunscreen applications to guard against the "UVAging" rays that were out to get me 365 days a year. No more weekly Epsom salts hot baths to detox my body, or lathering up with my favorite vanilla-scented moisturizing cream. No more applications of extra virgin olive oil to the ends of my hair to prevent splitting. I didn't even treat myself to my bedtime chamomile tea. All that had been replaced by a new nightly ritual of passing out on the bed, face down, which went against my cardinal rule of youth maintenance. Before the deep hollow pain was born inside me, I slept on my back, at the perfect thirty-degree angle to ensure proper circulation and prevention of any unnecessary creasing or wrinkling. ~ Cari Kamm

I found myself grinning until my cheeks hurt, my scalp prickling till I thought it might lift off my head. My tongue ran away from me, giddy with freedom. This, and this, and this, I said to him. I did not have to fear that I spoke too much. I did not have to worry that I was too slender, or too slow. This and this and this! I taught him how to skip stones, and he taught me how to carve wood. I could feel every nerve in my body, every brush of air against my skin. ~ Madeline Miller

Eli: They say the war tore a hole in the sky,you've probably heard the stories.
Solara: Yeah.
Eli: The war tore a hole in the sky, the sun came down, burnt everything, everyone, I wandered, I didn't really know what I should do or where I was going. I was just moving from place to place,trying to stay alive.And then one day I heard this voice.I don't know how to explain it, it's like it was coming from inside me. But I could hear it clear as day. Clear as I can hear you talking to me now. It told me to carry the book west, it told me that a path would be laid out before me, that I'd be led to a place where the book would be safe it told me I'd be protected,against anyone or anything that tried to stand in my way. If only I would have faith. That was thirty years ago and I've been walking ever since
Solara: And you did all this because a voice told you to?
Eli: I know what I hear, I know what I heard, I know I'm not crazy, I didn't imagine it ~ Book Of Eli Movie

Geryon was amazed at himself. He saw Herakles just about every day now.
The instant of nature
forming between them drained every drop from the walls of his life
leaving behind just ghosts
rustling like an old map. He had nothing to say to anyone. He felt loose and shiny.
He burned in the presence of his mother
I hardly know you anymore, she said leaning against the doorway of his room.
It had rained suddenly at suppertime,
now sunset was startling drops at the window. Stale peace of old bedtimes
filled the room. Love does not
make me gentle or kind, thought Geryon as he and his mother eyed each other
from opposite shores of the light ~ Anne Carson

Jackson caught Elle's arms and dragged her back against him, pressing his mouth to her ear. "Stop now, Elle, or I swear I'll knock you out. You aren't killing yourself over him. Stop now, damn it."

Elle slumped against him.

" Don't let my sisters touch me. Too dangerous. And I can't bear if they feel what I feel. Promise me."

Blood pumped out of her nose." Only you, Jackson, no one else. Swear it or I keep going."

Jackson closed his eyes. "I swear it, Elle. ~ Christine Feehan

He didn't say a word and she didn't ask anything else, just ran her fingers through his hair until his breathing began to calm. Without letting go of her or even pulling away to face her he finally whispered against her ear, "Please don't leave me. I promise I'll try harder." Slowly he pulled away and their eyes met. "I'm nothing without you, Izzy. ~ Elizabeth Reyes

Whatever he had lost, be it his money, his friends, his reputation, his self-respect, his inner joy and peace - one or all - he still remained his father's child. And so he says to himself: "How many of my father's hired men have all the food they want and more, and here am I dying of hunger! I will leave this place and go to my father and say: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as one of your hired men." With these words in his heart, he was able to turn, to leave the foreign country, and go home. ~ Henri J.M. Nouwen

And human instinct is ancient and reliable, utterly mysterious and possibly capable of great genius. I believe that refined, fluent instincts are a person's most valuable asset. My own instincts have repeatedly guided me against the grain of logic and probability. When I have trusted and followed their direction, they have never been wrong. I don't know how or why. But I know that every significant experience-positive or negative-sharpens them and makes them more accurate. ~ Augusten Burroughs

Your king is dead. Your prince lives. . . My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I am the Queen of Terrasen. . . Your prince is in mourning. Until he is ready, this city is mine. . . If you loot, if you riot, if you cause one lick of trouble, I will find you, and I will burn you to ash." She lifted a hand, and flames danced at her fingertips. "If you revolt against your new king, if you try to take his castle, then this wall"--she gestured with her burning hand--"will turn to molten glass and flood your streets, your homes, your throats. . . I killed your king. His empire is over. Your slaves are now free people. If I catch you holding on to your slaves, if I hear of any household keeping them captive, you are dead. If I hear of you whipping a slave, or trying to sell one, you are dead. So I suggest that you tell your friends, and families, and neighbors. I suggest that you act like reasonable, intelligent people. And I suggest that you stay on your best behavior until your king is ready to greet you, at which time I swear on my crown that I will yield control of this city to him. If anyone has a problem with it, you can take it up with my court." She motioned behind her. Rowan, Aedion, and Lysandra--bloodied, battered, filthy--grinning like hellions. "Or," Aelin said, the flames winking out on her hand, "you can take it up with me."
Not a word. She wondered whether they were breathing.
But Aelin didn't care as she strode off the platform, back through the gate ~ Sarah J. Maas

The more stories I heard, the more I tried to talk about the problem. And yet time and time again I found myself coming up against the same response: Sexism doesn't exist anymore. Women are equal now, more or less. You career girls these days have the best of all worlds - what more do you want? Think about the women in other countries dealing with real problems, people told me - you women in the West have no idea how lucky you are. You have "gilded lives"! You're making a fuss about nothing. You're overreacting. You're uptight, or frigid. You need to learn to take a joke, get a sense of humor, light up...

You really need to learn to take a compliment. ~ Laura Bates

My life may be much happier to-morrowHunger and love that press against the body,The two eternal needs we recognise,Desires that so relentlessly pursue one,May get me down or raise me to the skiesAnd make me a Don Bradman or Don Juan. ~ Gavin Ewart

Oh, all right," she said balefully, beginning to shake all over. "I'll admit it - I want you. There, are you satisfied? I want you."

"In what capacity? Lover, or husband?"

Annabelle stared at him in shock. "What?" His arms slid around her, holding her quivering frame securely against his. He said nothing, only watched her intently as she tried to grasp the implications of the question.

"But you're not the marrying kind," she managed to say weakly. He touched her ear, his fingertip tracing the fragile outer curve. "I've discovered that I am when it comes to you." The subtle caress set fire to her blood, making it difficult to think.

"We would probably kill each other within the first month." "Probably," Hunt conceded, his smiling mouth brushing over her temple. The warmth of his lips sent a rush of dizzying pleasure through her.

"But marry me anyway, Annabelle. As I see things, it would solve most of your problems …and more than a few of mine." His big hand slid gently down her spine, calming her tremors.

"Let me spoil you," he whispered. "Let me take care of you. You've never had anyone to lean on, have you? I've got strong shoulders, Annabelle." A deep laugh rumbled in his chest. "And I may possibly be the only man of your acquaintance who'll be able to afford you. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Listen, little lady, the people who do this kind of thing think if we rub up against them, they'll catch it. But there ain't no catching what we got," he smirked. It was the same thing Mike had said. "Either you is or you isn't. And if you're lucky, you isn't." Toby's extra-brown eyes softened. "Life's hard enough."

He looked at me while I thought about this: Being gay wasn't any different than having freckles. ~ Jennifer Gooch Hummer

You act young," he said, "because you are young. But you know things, Roza. Things people older than you don't even know. That day...." I knew instantly which day he referred to. The one up against the wall. "You were right, about how I fight to stay in control. No one else has ever figured that out- and it scared me. You scare me."
"Why? Don't you want anyone to know?"
He shrugged. "Whether they know that fact or not doesn't matter. What matters is that someone- that you- know me that well. When a person can see into your soul, it's hard. It forces you to be open. Vulnerable. It's much easier being with someone who's just more of a casual friend."
"Like Tasha."
"Tasha Ozera is an amazing woman. She's beautiful and she's brave. But she doesn't-"
"She doesn't get you," I finished.
He nodded. "I knew that. But I still wanted the relationship. I knew it would be easy and that she could take me away from you. I thought she could make me forget you."
I'd thought the same thing about Mason. "But she couldn't."
"Yes. And, so.....that's a problem. ~ Richelle Mead

Humility is perfect quietness of heart. It is to expect nothing, to wonder at nothing that is done to me, to feel nothing done against me. It is to be at rest when nobody praises me, and when I am blamed or despised. It is to have a blessed home in the Lord, where I can go in and shut the door, and kneel to my Father in secret, and am at peace as in a deep sea of calmness, when all around and above is trouble. ~ Andrew Murray

Was this love? Because it hurt. It felt like a bit of glass stuck somewhere important - his heart or his head. And it was throbbing.
Novel You Against Me ~ Jenny Downham

He said only, "Bad people. Some very bad people."
Uncle Chris's mouth flattened into a small, thin line. Then he nodded crisply. He knew all about bad people. John was speaking in a language he understood.
"Is it drugs?" Uncle Chris asked, in a hushed voice.
I looked at John, in his black jeans and T-shirt, with his long dark hair, and studded leather wristbands. I could see why Uncle Chris had asked. To someone of his generation, it would have to be either drugs, or…well, a rock band.
John gave me a barely perceptible shake of his head. No, his eyes begged me. Don't.
"Yes," I said, glancing back at Uncle Chris. "It's drugs."
John's gaze instantly rolled towards the sky.
"Piercey," Uncle Chris said, exhaling gustily and dragging a hand through his hair. "We talked about this. I thought you were the one I didn't have to worry about."
We had talked about something along those lines, I remembered, outside this very house, the night before Jade was killed. But it had been about Uncle Chris giving me driving lessons. I didn't recall drugs being mentioned.
"Well," I said. "Things are a little messed up right now. That's why we're here. I wanted to make sure Alex is okay."
"Alex?" Uncle Chris threw me a look of alarm. "Don't tell me Alex is doing drugs."
I could see now why John had been against lying about the drugs thing. I'd thought it would simplify things. But it was only making them worse.
"He's not," I said quickly. ~ Meg Cabot

You're shaking, baby. Excitement ... ." A callused fingertip ran down the length of his neck and back up to stroke over his open, panting mouth. "Or fear? Doesn't really matter to me." Another shudder rippled through James. Cowboy grinned. "I like you trembling against me, because of me, whatever the reason. ~ Laura Baumbach

The man slowly became aware of his surroundings. He did not know where he was...or how much time had passed, or if he would ever know those answers. He swallowed hard and tried to find his voice. He looked up and pleaded, "Please, help me?" the man struggled to extend his hand, but it wouldn't move. He tried to get up, but his lack of strength and the extreme push being exerted against his body caused him to collapse. A weight seemed to be holding him down, even though he couldn't feel any physical restraints. "My ~ F. Barish-Stern

Why should we cherish "objectivity", as if ideas were innocent, as if they don't serve one interest or another? Surely, we want to be objective if that means telling the truth as we see it, not concealing information that may be embarrassing to our point of view. But we don't want to be objective if it means pretending that ideas don't play a part in the social struggles of our time, that we don't take sides in those struggles.

Indeed, it is impossible to be neutral. In a world already moving in certain directions, where wealth and power are already distributed in certain ways, neutrality means accepting the way things are now. It is a world of clashing interests – war against peace, nationalism against internationalism, equality against greed, and democracy against elitism – and it seems to me both impossible and undesirable to be neutral in those conflicts. ~ Howard Zinn

Emerson lifts his head. His eyes are two dark pools of desire, a clouded night's sky. He catches his breath a moment, unsteady, and then drops a kiss on my lips. Sweet. Almost tender. I barely have time to take it in before he grabs my shoulder and spins me around, pushing me so my bare chest is slammed up into the wall, my cheek pressed against the cold concrete.
I gasp, my heart skipping with the thrill. I can feel him up against me, a solid wall of muscle trapping me in place, the hard ridge of him pressed against the small of my back. I can't move, or see the expression on his face, only hear the hoarse groan Emerson sounds as he twists a handful of my hair and yanks it to one side, kissing a searing trail along the curve of my neck.
I whimper, bound and powerless against him, and oh God, loving every minute of it. ~ Melody Grace

We must find a balance between "reddish whites," "bluish whites" and "yellowish whites," and decide on the proper length and thickness of the fiber. Then each part of the book can play its proper role: the front cover conveys a powerful silence; the inside cover the purity of first openings; the title page the texture of new beginnings; while the body of the text sets the words and pictures against a clear background, or whispers "touch me!" to the reader's fingertips ~ Kenya Hara

Only people who've been discriminated against can really know how much it hurts. Each person feels the pain in his own way, each has his own scars. So I think I'm as concerned about fairness and justice as anybody. But what disgusts me even more are people who have no imagination. The kind T. S. Eliot calls hollow men. People who fill up that lack of imagination with heartless bits of straw, not even aware of what they're doing. Callous people who throw a lot of empty words at you, trying to force you to do what you don't want to. Like that lovely pair we just met." He sighs and twirls the long slender pencil in his hand. "Gays, lesbians, straights, feminists, fascist pigs, communists, Hare Krishnas-- none of them bother me. I don't care what banner they raise. But what I can't stand are hollow people. When I'm with them I just can't bear it, and wind up saying things I shouldn't. With those women--I should've just let it slide, or else called Miss Saeki and let her handle it. She would have given them a smile and smoothed things over. But I just can't do "do that. I say things I shouldn't, do things I shouldn't do. I can't control myself. That's one of my weak points. Do you know why that's a weak point of mine?"
"'Cause if you take every single person who lacks much imagination seriously, there's no end to it," I say. ~ Haruki Murakami

Tilly and I stood, and she wrapped her arms around my waist and laid her head against my shoulder. Her soft little hands patted my back. The embrace was beyond her usual good-bye, and it filled me with awe at her intuitive ability to tune into my emotions. She couldn't read or do math or work through technical processes like most people her age, but she was always on the pulse-beat of the deep-down real things. ~ Brenda Vicars

When men lose against me, they always have a headache ... or things of that kind. I have never beaten a completely healthy man! ~ Susan Polgar

Death - the aftermath of it - is a strange thing to watch from the pedestal of immortality. I've seen death in every way: as a thief in the night, as the heat of fever, as the lust of a warrior. Yet I've never really understood grief, or what it does to those left behind.

But seeing Richard alone in the dark. It breaks away pieces of me. I'm a glacier, plunging, falling apart against the sea. ~ Ryan Graudin

Hey, that's weird," Chloe says. "You both have the same color eyes as Emma. I've never seen that before. I always thought it was because she's freakishly pasty. Ow! That's gonna leave a mark, Emma," she says, rubbing her freshly pinched biceps.
"Good, I hope it does," I snap. I want to ask them about their eyes-the color seems prettier set against the olive tone of Galen's skin-but Chloe has bludgeoned my chances of recovering from embarrassment. I'll have to be satisfied that my dad-and Google-were wrong all this time; my eye color just can't be that rare. Sure, my dad practiced medicine until the day he died two years ago. And sure, Google never let me down before. But who am I to argue with living, breathing proof that this eye color actually does exist? Nobody, that's who. Which is convenient, since I don't want to talk anymore. Don't want to force Galen into any more awkward conversations. Don't want to give Chloe any more opportunities to deepen the heat of my burning cheeks. I just want this moment of my life to be over.
I push past Chloe and snatch up the surfboard. To her good credit, she presses herself against the rail as I pass her again. I stop in front of Galen and his sister. "It was nice to meet you both. Sorry I ran into you. Let's go, Chloe."
Galen looks like he wants to say something, but I turn away. He's been a good sport, but I'm not interested in discussing swimmer safety-or being introduced to any more of his hostile relatives. Nothing h ~ Anna Banks

It's funny, because I had thought, living through those first two months after the night at the lake, that the great crisis was about What I Was or Who I'd Become or What Terrible Thing Was Wrong With Me (and About to Go Wronger) and Why All Was Changed As a Result. But I was still struggling against the idea that all *was* changed. ~ Robin McKinley

Lacey said softly, "Tristan, you need to rest now. There's nothing you can do until you rest."

But he could not leave Ivy. He put his arms around her. She slipped through him and moved toward the bureau, taking the picture in her hands. He wrapped her in his arms again, but she only cried harder.

Then Ella was set lightly on the bureau top. Lacey's hands had done it. The cat rubbed up against Ivy's head.

"Oh, Ella, I don't know how to let go of him."

"Don't let go," Tristan begged.

"In the end, she must," Lacey warned.

"I've lost him, Ella, I know it. Tristan is dead. He can't hold me ever again. He can't think of me. He can't want me now. Love ends with death."

"It doesn't!" Tristan said. "I'll hold you again, I swear it, and you'll see that my love will never end."

"You're exhausted, Tristan," Lacey told him.

"I'll hold you, I'll love you forever!"

"If you don't rest now," Lacey said, "you'll become even more confused. It'll be hard to tell real from unreal, or to rouse yourself out of the darkness. Tristan, listen to me..."

But before she finished speaking, the darkness overtook him. ~ Elizabeth Chandler

I feel like you're trying to convince me that we don't need condoms, but fuck that. If you impregnate me, I'm going to devour " you like a praying mantis." I pin Zeph against the wall and kiss her hard, because her threatening to kill or mutilate me is always so hot. ~ Gisele Walko

Reason, truth, innocence" --Royce sat back against the wall and folded his arms--"unicorns, pixies, and dragons; you're not that young to believe in such things. How is it that you fancy yourself a resident of a make-believe world."
"I told you. At this point, it's a choice."
"It's not. It's fooling yourself. I can decide between eating fish or pork, but I can only pretend to eat unicorn meat. I can't actually eat a unicorn. The world is the world, and you live in it with open eyes or choose to be blind. It's all the same to me, but don't stand there pretending your right. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

He came back to her lips and tasted them briefly before settling his forehead against hers. "I don't care what Grayson or his legal document says," he muttered between catches of wind. "God's given you to me, and as soon as He allows, I'll claim you as my own."
He spoke with such confidence that if she allowed herself, she could almost believe him. But with belief came hope, and with hope, the inevitability of pain.
The knocking at the door resumed, more urgently this time.
Along her throat, splotches of cool marked where he'd sampled her. Milly lamented that it was already warming. In heartbeats, all she would have was memories. And anguish. Could God truly fill the hollow Phillip would leave? Last night, His promise had filled her to the depths of her soul. It was enough. It would have to be.
With his eyes locked on hers, Phillip's hand trailed her cheek and throat. It brushed over her shoulder and down her arm. Then, in one blink, he wiped every emotion from his face, stunning her with the callous glaze of his eyes.
He gripped her by the elbow, whisked her through the kitchen, and opened the door to her wretched future. ~ April W. Gardner

Scalia said the court had pretty much signed on to the so-called homosexual agenda, adding: Let me be clear that I have nothing against homosexuals, or any other group, promoting their agenda through normal democratic means. ~ Antonin Scalia

The way you move is incredible." Ren drew me back to press against him. His fingers slid down to the curve of my hips, rocking our bodies in rhythm with the heavy bass. The sensation of being molded against the hard narrow line of his hips threatened to overwhelm me. We were hidden in the mass of people, right? The Keepers couldn't see?
I tried to steady my breath as Ren kept us locked together in the excruciatingly slow pulse of the music. I closed my eyes and leaned back into his body; his fingers kneaded my hips, caressed my stomach. God, it felt good.
My lips parted and the misty veil slipped between them, playing along my tongue. The taste of flower buds about to burst into bloom filled my mouth. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to melt into Ren. The surge of desire terrified me. I had no idea if the compulsion to draw him more tightly around my body emerged from my own heart or from the succubi's spellcraft. This couldn't happen!
I started to panic when he bent his head, pressing his lips against my neck. My eyes fluttered and I struggled to focus despite the suffocating heat that pressed down all around me. His sharpened canines traced my skin, scratching but not breaking the surface. My body quaked and I pivoted in his arms, pushing against his chest, making space between us.
"I'm a fighter, not a lover," I gasped.
"You can't be both?" His smile made my knees buckle. ~ Andrea Cremer

I haven't had time to have a real freak-out."
He shakes his head, determined. "I'm not going to give you time. Don't think. Oreos or M&Ms?"
"Oreos!"
"Summer or fall?!"
"Fall!"
"Tator tots or French fries?!"
"Both!"
"Do you want to marry me, yes or no?"
"YES!"
Then I jump across the car and kiss him so hard he falls back and crashes against the window. The kids in the rap car holler at us to get a room. ~ R.S. Grey