He Loves Me Too Quotes

Horgias nodded, his lips drawn back in a smile that was a wolf's snarl. 'They want us all flogged. Why us?'
'Lupus,' Syrion said. 'The other centurions hate him, even among the Fourth. He's too distant. He doesn't drink with them or whore with them. They don't know who he is, and so they hate him.'
'He loves war,' I said, who had seen the ice melt from his eyes, and the fire behind it, and these two made sense to me now. I felt the truth in my marrow, and it warmed me. 'He's bored with camp life. The Fourth are making a huge mistake giving him a reason to fight them. ~ M.C. Scott

Jesus's death has infinite value because he's an infinite God; it was enough to cover all the sins of the world. If we say some sin is too terrible, then we're saying Jesus fell short in his mission. Grace is only grace if it's available even to the Duchs of the world. In fact," he said, straightening himself in his chair, "here's a difficult thing for us to comprehend: God loves Duch as much as he loves you and me. ~ Lee Strobel

When I saw him at the cemetry. I didn't even realize I was walking toward him until I was standing in front of him. It was like beging pulled by a string he was controlling. Luring me right to him. Then when we spoke, I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice... he loves me. And not in the 'I love you, I love you,too' kind of way. It's in the 'You're are my person, my lobster, my everything,' and that alone tells me that what we had was true. ~ M. Robinson

This is the history of governments, - one man does something which is to bind another. A man who cannot be acquainted with me, taxes me; looking from afar at me, ordains that a part of my labour shall go to this or that whimsical end, not as I, but as he happens to fancy. Behold the consequence. Of all debts, men are least willing to pay the taxes. What a satire is this on government! Everywhere they think they get their money's worth, except for these. Hence, the less government we have, the better, - the fewer laws, and the less confided power. The antidote to this abuse of formal Government, is, the influence of private character, the growth of the Individual; the appearance of the principal to supersede the proxy; the appearance of the wise man, of whom the existing government, is, it must be owned, but a shabby imitation. That which all things tend to educe, which freedom, cultivation, intercourse, revolutions, go to form and deliver, is character; that is the end of nature, to reach unto this coronation of her king. To educate the wise man, the State exists; and with the appearance of the wise man, the State expires. The appearance of character makes the State unnecessary. The wise man is the State. He needs no army, fort, or navy, - he loves men too well; no bribe, or feast, or palace, to draw friends to him; no vantage ground, no favourable circumstance. He needs no library, for he has not done thinking; no church, for he is a prophet; no statute book, for he has the ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I won't be responsible for helping you move someplace where you're at risk. For one thing, Tate would kill me if anything happened to you."
"He might maim you a little…"
"I'm not joking," Colby said quietly. "You don't understand how he is about you. He isn't normal when you're threatened, in any way."
He studied her for a long moment. "Cecily, how do you think it would affect him if he knew you were carrying his child?"
Her heart almost jumped out of her chest. She put a hand over her slightly swollen waistline and sighed. "I don't know. He…loves little things," she said after a minute, smiling as she recalled Tat with a succession of her pets over the years. "He likes children, too. We always had a Christmas party at the school on the Wapiti reservation every year, and Tate would help pass out presents. The kids were crazy about him."
"He loves children," Colby agreed. "He'd want his own child."
She lowered her eyes to the carpet with a sigh. "Maybe. Or maybe it would just make him feel trapped all over again." She put her head in her hands. "It's all such a mess," she murmured. "I don't know what to do."
"In which case, you should do nothing," Colby said firmly.
She didn't quite meet his eyes as she smiled. "Good advice."
Which didn't mean she was willing to take it, she thought an hour later as she packed a suitcase. She couldn't tell Colby her plans for fear he might tell Tate. She couldn't tell Matt or Leta for the same reaso ~ Diana Palmer

I miss being a mistress. I enjoyed it. I loved it, in fact. I never felt guilty. I pretended I did. I had to, with my married girlfriends, the ones who live in terror of the pert au pair or the pretty, funny girl in the office who can talk about football and spends half her life in the gym. I had to tell them that of course I felt terrible about it, of course I felt bad for his wife, I never meant for any of this to happen, we fell in love, what could we do? The truth is, I never felt bad for Rachel.... She just wasn't real to me, and anyway, I was enjoying myself too much. Being the other woman is a huge turn-on, there's no point denying it: you're the one he can't help but betray his wife for, even though he loves her. That's just how irresistible you are. ~ Paula Hawkins

My life isn't that dramatic. My dad really loves me, he just can't talk on the phone. He's too crippled and shy, and that's almost harder. He's there and he loves me, and I try and try and try, it's just impossible to have a relationship. ~ Joey Lauren Adams

Dear Mama: The reason I didn't write last Sunday was because I was out of town. My friend Pound invited me to spend Saturday and Sunday with him … His parents are very nice people and have always been exceptionally kind to me. Mrs. Pound had prepared a fine meal … After supper Pound and I went to his room where we had a long talk on subjects that I love yet have not time to study and which he is making a life work of. That is literature, and the drama and the classics, also a little philosophy. He, Pound, is a fine fellow; he is the essence of optimism and has a cast-iron faith that is something to admire. If he ever does get blue nobody knows it, so he is just the man for me. But not one person in a thousand likes him, and a great many people detest him and why? Because he is so darned full of conceits and affectation. He is really a brilliant talker and thinker but delights in making himself just exactly what he is not: a laughing boor. His friends must be all patience in order to find him out and even then you must not let him know it, for he will immediately put on some artificial mood and be really unbearable. It is too bad, for he loves to be liked, yet there is some quality in him which makes him too proud to try to please people. I am sure his only fault is an exaggeration of a trait that in itself is good and in every way admirable. He is afraid of being taken in if he trusts his really tender heart to mercies of a cruel crowd and so keeps it hidden and trusts no one ~ William Carlos Williams

We do not have to do anything without you, malish," Boris insisted.
They were in bed, cuddling after dinner as usual, and Hans kissed Thomas on the shoulder. "We aren't children. We can keep our libidos in check for a few hours."
"I don't want you to," Thomas said. "Yes, I'm jealous - of both of you, really. Not just Boris, anymore." Hans wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but he was glad to hear it. "But you're my boys, right?"
"Right," Hans and Boris answered in unison.
"I know Boris loves me. And, Hans… you care for me, don't you?"
"I care for you a lot." Hans wanted to say more than just that, but things weren't there for them. Not yet. Perhaps they never would be. Thomas and Boris were always going to be the couple, and Hans, no matter how long he stayed with them, would always be on the outside. "I feel the same way about Boris," he added truthfully.
Thomas smiled. He put his arms around his two lovers, pulling them close. "We care about you too, puppy."
"A lot," Boris added. ~ Jamie Fessenden

Do yourself a favor - wait for someone special. Trust me, he's not roaming the halls of your high school. And if he were, he wouldn't be sleeping with some girl named Tracy, or Stacy, or anybody else. He'd only have eyes for you. Don't give away something you can never get back, save it for someone you love and who really loves you, too. ~ Addison Moore

All that we had, every moment we shared, it meant everything to me. Everything you felt, I felt it, too. It was the hardest thing to do, to walk away from you, from us, but I had to do it, because you deserve so much more. And I hope you see that. I hope that you've moved on and found some guy who treats you like the amazingly beautiful girl you are. And that he knows how lucky he is to have you. I hope he appreciates every single thing about you. And I hope that he loves you and gives you the world, Amanda. Because I would have. ~ Jay McLean

What do you and Chris even talk about?" he asks. "You have nothing in common."
"What do we talk about?" I counter.
Peter laughs. "Point taken." He pushes away from the wall and puts his head in my lap, and I go completely still.
I try to make my voice sound normal as I say, "You're in a really strange mood today."
He raises an eyebrow at me. "What kind of mood am I in?" Peter sure loves to hear about himself. Normally, I don't mind, but today I'm not in the mood to oblige him. He already has too many people in his life telling him how great he is.
"The obnoxious kind," I say, and he laughs.
"I'm sleepy." He closes his eyes and snuggles against me. "Tell me a bedtime story, Covey."
"Don't flirt," I tell him.
His eyes fly open. "I wasn't!"
"Yes, you were. You flirt with everyone. It's like you can't help yourself."
"Well, I don't ever flirt with you." Peter sits back up and checks his phone, and suddenly I'm wishing I didn't say anything at all. ~ Jenny Han

Could you say something, please? When a guy tells a girl he loves her, he doesn't want silence in response. Was I too late? Are you over me?"

"Are you wearing the underwear I got you?"

Laughter cracked out of him. "Sometimes, the way your mind works is a complete mystery to me. ~ Helen Hoang

You'd make a lot of people feel better if you'd just wake," Kevis hung the new bag on the pole beside Breanne's bed. "You're safe where you are, I promise. I talked with Graegar - he came to see me. He says that he loves you. Barrigar does, too. You've never really talked with Barrigar. He's one of the best Larentii I know. Doesn't say much, but he sees everything around him." Kevis took a chair beside the bed with a sigh.

"I think Barry's talent for noticing everything around him makes him a really good Protector. I know Conner loves him a lot - just like she loves Graegar. Connegar is Barrigar's son, you know. Barrigar is a wonderful parent. Connegar was Conner's first Larentii child, so he was named after her. Garegar is Graegar's child with Conner, and since he was second-born, he took a variation of his father's name for himself. Are you cold?" Kevis leaned forward and pulled the blanket up a little, covering Breanne's body up to her chin.

"Now," he said, "Pheligar is Renegar's father. Kiarra is Renegar's mother. Renegar is Graegar's father; Grace is Graegar's mother. Graegar is Garegar's father, Conner is Garegar's mother."

"If you don't shut up with Larentii lineage, I may punch you," Breanne's cobalt-blue eyes opened and she blinked in the light filtering through a nearby window. Even Bill heard Kevis' whoop of joy and popped out of his deck chair at a run. ~ Connie Suttle

I have my faith and my principles, and this is what makes me who I am. If the person loves me, he'll love my God too, ~ Shamcey Supsup

Shall I tell you the secret of true love? her father once asked her. A friend of mine liked to tell me that women love flowers. He had many flirtations, but he never found a wife. Do you know why? Because women may love flowers, but only one woman loves the scent of gardenias in late summer that remind her of her grandmother's porch. Only one woman loves apple blossoms in a blue cup. Only one woman loves wild geraniums. That's Mama! Inej had cried. Yes, Mama loves wild geraniums because no other flower has quite the same color, and she claims that when she snaps the stem and puts a sprig behind her ear, the whole world smells like summer. Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you'll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won't matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart. That ~ Leigh Bardugo

He loves me so he hurts me
To try and make me good.
It doesn't work. I'm just too bad
And don't do what I should.

My memory has so many different sections and, like all survivors, there are so many compartments with so many triggers. I'll remember a smell which reminds me of a man which reminds me of a place which reminds me of another man who I think was with a woman who had a certain smell - and I'm back to square one. This is the case for most survivors, I believe. When we try to put together our pasts, the triggers are many and varied, the memories are disjointed - and why wouldn't they be? We were children. Even someone with an idyllic childhood who is only trying to remember the lovely things which happened to them will scratch their head and wonder who gave them that doll and was it for Christmas or their third birthday? Did they have a party when they were four or five? When did they go on a plane for the first time? You see, even happy memories are hard to piece together - so imagine how hard it is to collate all of the trauma, to pull together all of the things I've been trying to push away for so many years. ~ Laurie Matthew

Huxley: "Tell me something Bryce, do you know the difference between a Jersey, a Guernsey, a Holstein, and an Ayershire?"
Bryce: "No."
Huxley: "Seabags Brown does."
Bryce: "I don't see what that has to do..."
Huxley: "What do you know about Gaelic history?"
Bryce: "Not much."
Huxley: "Then why don't you sit down one day with Gunner McQuade. He is an expert. Speaks the language, too."
Bryce: "I don't..."
Huxley: " What do you know about astronomy?"
Bryce: "A little."
Huxley: "Discuss it with Wellman, he held a fellowship."
Bryce: "This is most puzzling."
Huxley: "What about Homer, ever read Homer?"
Bryce: "Of course I've read Homer."
Huxley: "In the original Greek?"
Bryce: "No"
Huxley: "Then chat with Pfc. Hodgkiss. Loves to read the ancient Greek."
Bryce: "Would you kindly get to the point?"
Huxley: "The point is this, Bryce. What makes you think you are so goddam superior? Who gave you the bright idea that you had a corner on the world's knowledge? There are privates in this battalion who can piss more brains down a slit trench then you'll ever have. You're the most pretentious, egotistical individual I've ever encountered. Your superiority complex reeks. I've seen the way you treat men, like a big strutting peacock. Why, you've had them do everything but wipe your ass. ~ Leon Uris

He insists he loves me too much to let me get involved in the war in any way … and I love him too much to obey. ~ Fonda Lee

I have been luckier than anyone I know or even heard of. I had a very happy childhood, a good education, I enjoyed working as a teacher, journalist and author. I have loved a wonderful man for over 33 years, and I believe he loves me, too. ~ Maeve Binchy

Don't make me out to be something worth saving. We both know I'm a waste." His voice was so quiet. "I wish I was better at telling you why you have to stay here. I wish I could put into words the part of my heart that has your name written on it. That part hurts right now. You have to be here. You love life too much. You're so important. I wish I could make you understand this." He tried to smile at her valiant efforts. "I would keep you if I could. You can sleep here, right on this couch. Beckett, I will let you hold this baby when it comes." She touched her stomach. "Does that tell you how much you mean to me? It's the only thing I can come up with." He shrugged. "Mouse would be disappointed. He'd feel like he didn't do his job if you died ... Eve loves you. Wherever she is - in this strip club - is that what you've been wishing for?" Beckett shook his head. "No, right? She loves you. You can't kill someone she loves. You just can't. ~ Debra Anastasia

He loves me like a monster,
all teeth and talk and
hiding in the dark.
That's my specialty -
men with strong bodies
and fragile hearts,
and if you hold them too tightly
they will crumble beneath you
like an avalanche that's waiting.
Still, he looks at me like all things
beautiful and burning
and we love each other recklessly
with hearts so empty
our names echo against
vandalized walls that say,
"There was someone here before me,
listen closely and you'll hear their name."

He has matches for hands,
and I, a paper heart.
Gasoline will drip
from our mouths
and we will call that holy.
We will burn at the stake
and pollute the sky with
smoke and selfishness,
and we will say it was
in the name of a crooked love.
We will burn our own bodies
to the ground and we will
call that sacrifice.
We will tear ourselves open
like there's something left inside.

Nobody ever taught us how to love. ―Lindsey Hobart ~ Lindsey Hobart

In the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. ~ Suzanne Collins

So you walk up to this man sinner and you say, "God loves you and He has a wonderful plan for your life!" and he goes, "What? God loves me? That's fantastic. I LOVE ME, TOO! And He loves me more than I love me? Well, that's hard to imagine. I'll take a God like that. You got two of them?" ~ Paul Washer

1. I'm lonely so I do lonely things
2. Loving you was like going to war; I never came back the same.
3. You hate women, just like your father and his father, so it runs in your blood.
4. I was wandering the derelict car park of your heart looking for a ride home.
5. You're a ghost town I'm too patriotic to leave.
6. I stay because you're the beginning of the dream I want to remember.
7. I didn't call him back because he likes his girls voiceless.
8. It's not that he wants to be a liar; it's just that he doesn't know the truth.
9. I couldn't love you, you were a small war.
10. We covered the smell of loss with jokes.
11. I didn't want to fail at love like our parents.
12. You made the nomad in me build a house and stay.
13. I'm not a dog.
14. We were trying to prove our blood wrong.
15. I was still lonely so I did even lonelier things.
16. Yes, I'm insecure, but so was my mother and her mother.
17. No, he loves me he just makes me cry a lot.
18. He knows all of my secrets and still wants to kiss me.
19. You were too cruel to love for a long time.
20. It just didn't work out.
21. My dad walked out one afternoon and never came back.
22. I can't sleep because I can still taste him in my mouth.
23. I cut him out at the root, he was my favorite tree, rotting, threatening the foundations of my home.
24. The women in my family die waiting.
25 ~ Warsan Shire

Two seconds went by before I got a response.

Lenny: The offer stands, bish.

Lenny: You're the best person I know, fyi.

I smiled down at my phone.

Me: I love you too

Lenny: [eye rolling emoji]

Lenny: I was texting you because Grandpa G is making margaritas and he was asking where you were.

Me: Tell him I love him.

Lenny: I will. You find Rip?

Me: I'm watching him.

Lenny: Stalker

Me: He's standing in front of me, I can't help it.

Lenny: Pretty sure that's what every stalker thinks.

I chanced another glance at the man and held back a sigh.

Me: Sometimes I don't understand why him.

Lenny: Because he looks like he's been in jail and that's about as far away from what every jackass you've ever dated looks like?

Lenny: Grandpa G says he loves you too and to come over and bring the girl with you if she's around. I didn't tell him you're at the bar, otherwise he'd want to invite himself. You know how that man gets in public.

I almost laughed at the first comment and definitely laughed at the second one. Rip did look like he'd done time. That was unfair, but it was the truth.

For all I knew, he probably had.

Then again, I was probably judging him by a face he had no say in. For all I knew, he had a marshmallow heart and rescued and rehabilitated small animals when he wasn't at wor ~ Mariana Zapata

...suddenly I was afraid of what Father would say. Afraid he would say, "There'll be someone else soon," and that forever afterward this untruth would lie between us. For in some deep part of me I knew already that there would not--soon or ever--be anyone else.

The sweet cigar-smell came into the room with Father. And of course he did not say the false, idle words.

"Corrie," he began instead, "do you know what hurts so very much? It's love. Love is the strongest force in the world, and when it is blocked that means pain.

"There are two things we can do when this happens. We can kill the love so that it stops hurting. But then of course part of us dies, too. Or, Corrie, we can ask God to open up another route for that love to travel.

"God loves Karel--even more than you do--and if you ask Him, He will give you His love for this man, a love nothing can prevent, nothing destroy. Whenever we cannot love in the old, human way, Corrie, God can give us his perfect way."

I did not know, as I listened to Father's footsteps winding back down the stairs, that he had given me more than the key to this hard moment. I did not know that he had put into my hands the secret that would open far darker rooms than this--places where there was not, on a human level, anything to love at all. ~ Corrie Ten Boom

I miss my family. (Gallagher)
I miss mine too. My mama was good people. 'Simi,' she would say, 'I love you.' Akri loves me too. See, akri even gave me hornay warmers so my horns wouldn't get cold. You want some hornay warmers too? (Simi)
I don't have horns. (Gallagher)
I could give you some real colorful ones. Akri has some black ones, but he doesn't let other people see them. (Simi)
Ash has horns? (Gallagher)
Oh my, yes. They are quite lovely. Not as lovely as mine, but they are still very nice. The Simi would say she hopes you see them, but if you ever did, you'd be dead and I think the Simi would miss you. You seem very nice too. (Simi) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

To me, every day of life is a good day. Of course there are people & situations thrown on your path, only as a test. Whether a test of your faith or a test of how you'll handle it. Oh yes, there are times when I want to let some of these dummies have it, but I prefer to spend my energy on praising God for all He is & all He does. I prefer to love & express compassion to others & live a happy life. This life is precious. This borrowed time isn't promised with a specific measure. Don't worry about what negative people think or feel about you. I'm sure they have numerous things to work on themselves. Just live. Put God first, live & be happy. If no one has told you they love you, remember Jesus loves you (and I do too) LK ~ LaNina King

Again I take a taxi to Clichy address, but feel that I do not want to go on loving Henry more actively than he loves me (having realized that nobody will ever love me in that overabundant, overexpressive, overthoughtful, overhuman way I love people), and so I will wait for him. So I ask taxi driver to drop me at the Galeries Lafayette, where I begin to look for a new hat and to shop for Christmas. Pride? I don't know. A kind of wise retreat. I need people too much. So I bury my gigantic defect, my overflow of love, under trivialities, like a child. I amuse myself with a new hat. ~ Anais Nin

I am no Christian. These days it does no good to confess that, for the bishops and abbots have too much influence and it is easier to pretend to a faith than to fight angry ideas. I was raised a Christian, but at ten years old, when I was taken into Ragnar's family, I discovered the old Saxon gods who were also the gods of the Danes and of the Norsemen, and their worship has always made more sense to me than bowing down to a god who belongs to a country so far away that I have met no one who has ever been there. Thor and Odin walked our hills, slept in our valleys, loved our women and drank from our streams, and that makes them seem like neighbours. The other thing I like about our gods is that they are not obsessed with us. They have their own squabbles and love affairs and seem to ignore us much of the time, but the Christian god has nothing better to do than to make rules for us. He makes rules, more rules, prohibitions and commandments, and he needs hundreds of black-robed priests and monks to make sure we obey those laws. He strikes me as a very grumpy god, that one, even though his priests are forever claiming that he loves us. I have never been so stupid as to think that Thor or Odin or Hoder loved me, though I hope at times they have thought me worthy of them. ~ Bernard Cornwell

Domestic

If, when studying road atlases
while taking, as you call it, your
morning dump, you shout down to
me names like Miami City, Franconia,
Cancún, as places for you to take
me to from here, can I help it if

all I can think is things that are
stupid, like he loves me he loves me
not? I don't think so. No more
than, some mornings, waking to your
hands around me, and remembering
these are the fingers, the hands I've

over and over given myself to, I can
stop myself from wondering does that
mean they're the same I'll grow
old with. Yesterday, in the café I
keep meaning to show you, I thought
this is how I'll die maybe, alone,

somewhere too far away from wherever
you are then, my heart racing from
espresso and too many cigarettes,
my head down on the table's cool
marble, and the ceiling fan turning
slowly above me, like fortune, the

part of fortune that's half-wished-
for only - it did not seem the worst
way. I thought this is another of
those things I'm always forgetting
to tell you, or don't choose to
tell you, or I tell you but only

in the same way, each morning, I
keep myself from saying too loud I
love you until the moment you flush
the toilet, then I say it, when the
rumble of water running down through
the house could mean ~ Carl Phillips

We saw that he plays with his heart too. He obviously loves the game so much and was distraught to lose in the final. Seeing him cry nearly got me going too. ~ Cristiano Ronaldo

He regarded her indignantly. "Did she say I broke our engagement?"

"She didn't say hardly anything when I talked to her this morning, just that the two of you reached a mutual decision to end your relationship."

"And you assumed that meant I ended it."

"Didn't you?"

"Hell, no."

"Are you saying Gracie dumped you?"

He saw too late the trap he'd laid for himself.

"'Course not. Nobody dumps me."

"She did, didn't she? She dumped you! Holy Moses! A person of the female species finally gave Bobby Tom Denton back a little bit of what he's been giving out." Grinning widely, she lifted her face to the heavens. "Thank you, Jesus!"

"Will you stop that! She didn't dump me. Haven't you figured out by now that we were never really engaged! It was just a ploy to keep everybody off my back while I was in town." The fact that Terry Jo was making a joke out of this hurt in a way he couldn't express.

"Of course you were engaged. A blind fool could see the two of you love each other."

"We do not! Well, maybe she loves me, but…I care about her. Who wouldn't? She's about the best kind of woman there is. But, love? She's not my type, Terry Jo."

Terry Jo gave him a long, steady gaze. "It's amazing. You don't know any more about women now than you did in high school when you threw me over for Sherri Hopper." She regarded him sadly. "When are you going to grow up, Bobby To ~ Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Son, I hope your opinion of your mother hasn't lessened, knowing what you now know."
Gavin glanced up; incredulity skewed his eyebrows. His expression appeared both stunned and appalled. "Never, Father! I love her! It makes no difference to me where she came from."
The man nodded, a show of relief in his features. His large hand, soft in touch, went to brush a string of hair away from his wife's peaceful profile. "Your mother loves you too, son, more than anything in the world. She worries about you, day and night."
That sentiment stirred something profoundly pleasant inside the boy. He grinned at the internal warmth it created. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

Thanks for getting me out of there," I murmur, lacing my fingers around my knees, and looking up at him on his step.
"Yeah. You looked a little green. "
"I don't handle crowds too well. I've always been that way, I guess."
"You might get in trouble," he warns, staring at me in that strange, hungry way that unravels me. He strokes his bottom lip with a finger. For a flash of a second, his eyes look strange. Different. All glowing irises and thin dark pupils. Almost drake-like. I blink to clear my vision. His eyes are normal again. Just my imagination in overdrive. I'm probably projecting missing home and Az - everything--onto him. "Pep rallies are mandatory," he continues. "A lot of people saw you leave. Teachers included."
"They saw you leave, too," I point out.
He leans to the side, propping an elbow on one of the steps behind him. "I'm not worried about that. I've been in trouble before." He smiles a crooked grin and holds up crossed fingers. "The principal and I are like this. The guy loves me. Really."
Laughter spills from me, rusty and hoarse.
His grin makes me feel good. Free. Like I'm not running from anything. Like I could stay here in this world, if only I have him.
The thought unsettles me. Sinks heavily in my chest. Because I can't have him. Not really. All he can ever be for me is a temporary fix.
"But you're worried I'll get in trouble?" I try not to show how much this pleases me. I've managed to ignore him for days n ~ Sophie Jordan

Battles are fought in our minds every day. When we begin to feel the battle is just too difficult and want to give up, we must choose to resist negative thoughts and be determined to rise above our problems. We must decide that we're not going to quit. When we're bombarded with doubts and fears, we must take a stand and say: "I'll never give up! God's on my side. He loves me, and He's helping me! I'm going to make it!" ~ Joyce Meyer

―The thing about memory is that you can feel it eroding slowly, being stolen away from you by time. It starts with the way you stop hearing his voice in your head. Then it's the color of the shirt he wore last Christmas. Before you know it, your memories have become fragmented, as if the small details were grains of sand blown away by the wind. I should be grateful that I'm starting to remember you less. Instead, I felt lonely. Pieces of you that I once held dear are being ripped apart into tiny shreds of information my brain thinks I can afford to forget. I can feel my heart fighting. It loves the feel of you though for the most part, you hurt. I looked for you in places where I knew I would never find you, in faces I knew I would never recognize. I looked for you hoping that through the sheer force of my will I would find your eyes staring back. But that's the thing about memory - you can feel it eroding slowly, being stolen away from you by time. I want to remember you. But I'm no longer entirely sure I really remember you. It kills me. Have you started remembering me less too? ~ Nessie Q.

It's impossible to be the Mockingjay. Impossible to complete even this one sentence. Because now I know that everything I say will be directly taken out on Peeta. Result in his torture. But not his death, no, nothing so merciful as that. Snow will ensure that his life is much more worse than death.

"Cut," I hear Cressida say quietly.

"What's wrong with her?" Plutarch says under his breath.

"She's figured out how Snow's using Peeta," says Finnick.

There's something like a collective sigh of regret from that semicircle of people spread out before me. Because I know this now. Because there will never be a way for me to not know this again. Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a entails, I am broken.

Several sets of arms would embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I reach out for him and say something like his name and he's there, holding me and patting my back. "It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart." He sits me on a length of broken marble pillar and keeps an arm around me while I sob.

"I can't do this anymore," I say.

"I know," he says. ~ Suzanne Collins

We don't choose whom we love," he told Maura, so gently that she knew he knew. If she wasn't going to be loved in return, she would have liked not to be pitied for it. She got neither of these wishes. "But people have this advantage over swans, to put their unwise loves aside and love another. Not me. I'm too much swan for that. ~ Karen Joy Fowler

I remember watching 'Colombo' a lot with my dad. That was one of the first detective shows I remember watching. And I remember my dad turning to me - my dad loves to turn to me and explain why things are funny. He used to do that with 'Seinfeld' all the time. He did it with 'Colombo', too, set the scene. ~ Stephanie Beatriz

I suddenly knew that religion, God - something beyond everyday life - was there to be found, provided one is really willing. And I saw that though what I felt in the church was only imagination, it was a step on the way; because imagination itself can be a kind of willingness - a pretense that things are real, due to one's longing for them. It struck me that this was somehow tied up with what the Vicar said about religion being an extension of art - and then I had a glimpse of how religion can really cure you of sorrow; somehow make use of it, turn it to beauty, just as art can make sad things beautiful.

I found myself saying: 'Sacrifice is the secret - you have to sacrifice things for art and it's the same
with religion; and then the sacrifice turns out to be a gain.' Then I got confused and I couldn't hold on to what I meant - until Miss Blossom remarked: 'Nonsense, duckie - it's prefectly simple. You lose yourself in something beyond yourself and it's a lovely rest.'

I saw that, all right. Then I thought: 'But that's how Miss Marcy cured her sorrow, too - only she lost herself in other people instead of in religion.' Which way of life was best - hers or the Vicar's? I decided that he loves God and merely likes the villagers, whereas she loves the villagers and merely likes God - and then I suddenly wondered if I could combine both ways, love God and my neighbor equally. Was I really willing to? ~ Dodie Smith

My skin burs under Maven's gaze, with the memory of one stolen kiss. It was him who saved me from Evangeline. Cal who saved me from escaping and bringing more pain upon myself. Cal who saved me from conscription. I've been too busy trying to save others to notice how much Cal saves me. How much he loves me. ~ Victoria Aveyard

The two of you came this close to getting torn to shreds! Your father just found you, and he doesn't want to lose you. Do you have any idea what he has been through to protect you since you got here?"
[...]
"No." Talon's voice was subdued, but only slightly. Teenage defiance still seethed beneath the surface. "He didn't tell me."
I leaned back in my chair, blew out my breath, and closed my eyes. "And he probably won't." Tired had surrendered to exhausted. "He wouldn't want you to worry. Because he loves you."
When Talon didn't respond, I opened one eye and looked at him. "He hasn't told you that, either, has he?" I asked wearily.
"Not exactly."
My elbow was resting on the chair arm, and I dropped my head onto my upraised hand. I snorted. "Not exactly." I shook my head. "Men." I didn't lift my head off my hand; it felt too good to be resting on something. I turned it about an inch and I could see Piaras just fine.
His face was a shade or two short of a full, blazing blush. "I know you do." His words tumbled out in a rush. "You don't have to tell me. ~ Lisa Shearin

I'm the kind of girl who wants to get married in a big, white dress, wearing my grandma's pearls. I want a husband who loves me and is faithful to me. I want him to come home to me every night, and I don't want to have to worry if he's doing his secretary, because he's the kind of man who has too much honor to do that. I want to wait a year and then I want to start trying for the two kids that we'll eventually have, a girl and a boy. And when we have those kids, I do not want, one day, to have to look in their little faces and explain why their daddy is on the internet having relations with everyone from College Honeys to Cougars Gone Wild for money. I want to throw a cartoon themed birthday party at a jump house for my six year old, not mark the occasion by explaining what a "money shot" is. I have a feeling your life goals are somewhat different than mine. And by 'somewhat,' I mean, utterly and completely. Does that explain why it would be a waste of time for both of us to continue being in each other's presence? ~ Mia Sheridan

I come to you for help. We've been silent far too long. Many of you have turned your backs on Arman. Many never bothered to know Him at all. But Arman is the One God. He created Er'Rets and everything in it. He gave each of you life and purpose. He loves all of you as His own sons and daughters.
To defeat Darkness, we must unite our faith. We must worship the One God, Arman. We must call out to Him for mercy. Though He hears my prayer now, my voice alone is not strong enough. I am only one man. But together, we are mighty. I ask you to join with me now. Worship Him. ~ Jill Williamson

I do love Oregon." My gaze wanders over the quiet, natural beauty surrounding us, which isn't limited to just this garden. "Being near the river, and the ocean, and the rocky mountains, and all this nature ... the weather."
He chuckles. "I've never met anyone who actually loves rain. It's kind of weird. But cool, too," he adds quickly, as if afraid to offend me. "I just don't get it."
I shrug. "It's not so much that I love rain. I just have a healthy respect for what if does. People hate it, but the world needs rain. It washes away dirt, dilutes the toxins in the air, feeds drought. It keeps everything around us alive."
"Well, I have a healthy respect for what the sun does," he counters with a smile."
"I'd rather have the sun after a good, hard rainfall."
He just shakes his head at me but he's smiling. "The good with the bad?"
"Isn't that life?"
He frowns. "Why do I sense a metaphor behind that?"
"Maybe there is a metaphor behind that." One I can't very well explain to him without describing the kinds of things I see every day in my life. The underbelly of society - where twisted morals reign and predators lurk, preying on the lost, the broken, the weak, the innocent. Where a thirteen-year-old sells her body rather than live under the same roof as her abusive parents, where punks gang-rape a drunk girl and then post pictures of it all over the internet so the world can relive it with her. Where a junkie mom's drug addiction is readily f ~ K.A. Tucker

I was on the first one when I felt his fingers encircle my wrist. "Sophie, come on. I don't want to fight with you."
Turning, I opened my mouth to say I didn't want to fight with him either. But before I could, I saw the telltale flash out of the corner of my eye, and the next thing I knew, my arm was jerking out of his grasp. "If you don't want to fight with her, maybe you shouldn't suggest she team up with people who want to kill her," my voice snarled.
Archer backed up so fast he nearly stumbled, and I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him look so freaked out. But he recovered quickly. "Elodie, if I wanted to talk to you, I'd do a séance or something. Maybe go on an episode of Ghost Hunters. But right now, I want to talk to Sophie. So clear out."
Elodie had no intention of doing that. "You always were a crappy boyfriend," she said. "Once you left, I chalked that up to you, you know, not actually liking me. But unless I'm blind as well as dead, you really like Sophie. In fact, hard as it is for me to fathom, I think you love her."
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Screw that, she retorted. You two spend all your time making stupid jokes and being all witty. Someone has to get real.
"What's your point?" Archer asked, narrowing his eyes at me. Her. Whatever. God, this was getting confusing.
"Cal loves her, too, you know. And the last time I checked, he wasn't part of a cult of monster killers. I'm just saying that if you're going have loyalties that divid ~ Rachel Hawkins

I woke up dead. At the mall. And while I was there I fell in love, found out who killed me, haunted the living, made friends, and saved my dad's life. Not a bad afterlife.
I was a daughter, a friend, a lover, a singer, a Mathlete, a New Yorker, a girl. All of my stories were woven together.
I have a new story now. I'm the girl, the angel, who helps you move on. I'm the girl, the angel, who lives here at the mall. I'm the girl, the angel, who loves Nick. He's the boy, the angel, who helps you move on too. Who loves me. Here at the mall.
We both hope you stay safe and well. But if something should happen to you, we'll be here for you. We want to know your story.
But first, stop and listen. Can you hear that? It's the sound of life and afterlife. And it sounds exactly like music. ~ Judy Sheehan

You won't be the reason our family falls apart because I wouldn't allow a woman who loves my son as much as you do to walk out of his life." Stepping closer, Lillian placed a tentative hand on Emily's shoulder, her eyes spilling over with tears. "I wouldn't allow you to walk out of our lives. What you were about to give up, though it would've hurt my son, was selfless. I once knew a girl who loved a man so much it scared her, too." Lillian paused, her gaze falling on Chad. The corner of her mouth turned up in a small, sad smile as he made his way toward her. Bringing her eyes back to Emily's, Lillian shook her head. "It would've killed me if I had to give up those stolen breaths before he kissed me. Whether or not the baby you're carrying is my grandchild, I'd be honored to call you my daughter. ~ Gail McHugh

And I did it for Him and He loves them. He betrayed us! Do you know why they get to come back from the dead to slaughter more and more of us? I thought it was some demon's trick. That maybe we could fix that, too, or instead if our first mission failed." Now she's laughing at herself, at her naivety. "But He did it. Because He loves them. He loves the demons. He still loves them! After they sold their souls, after they've tortured the Templars and Beacons, and countless random innocents, He still loves them! He wants to give them time to change their minds before they're committed to hell. He wants to give those murdering bastards the ability to be redeemed. They slaughtered my family, bathed in the blood of my friends, and He still loves them." She looks at me and I see in her expression so much pain, so much bitterness, so much rage that I would have stepped back, had the demons not been holding me in place. The darkness that has taken over her personality since she became a demon becomes suddenly clear. After everything she has sacrificed to His cause she can't understand how He can forgive her enemies.

But I do.

I do and it hits me with the force of a train. ~ Eliza Crewe

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

He fills me with horror and I do not hate him. How can I hate him, Raoul? Think of Erik at my feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses himself, he implores my forgiveness! ... He confesses his cheat. He loves me! He lays at my feet an immense and tragic love ... He has carried me off for love! ... He has imprisoned me with him, underground, for love! ... But he respects me: he crawls, he moans, he weeps! ... And, when I stood up, Raoul, and told him that I could only despise him if he did not, then and there, give me my liberty ... he offered it ... he offered to show me the mysterious road ... Only ... only he rose too ... and I was made to remember that, though he was not an angel, nor a ghost, nor a genius, he remained the voice ... for he sang. And I listened ... and stayed! ... That night, we did not exchange another word. He sang me to sleep. ~ Gaston Leroux

You're my best friend and I love you. I'm not ashamed to admit that I love a guy. I love you, Holder. Daniel Weasley loves Dean Holder. Always and forever."
"Daniel, go make out with your girlfriend," he says, waving me off.
I shake my head. "Not until you tell me you love me, too."
His head falls back against Sky's headboard. "I fucking love you, now GO AWAY!"
I grin. "I love you more. ~ Colleen Hoover

Several sets of arms would embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I reach out for him and say something like his name and he's there, holding me and patting my back. "It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart." He sits me on a length of broken marble pillar and keeps an arm around me while I sob. ~ Suzanne Collins

Something terrible was clawing up her throat.
"I was lucky," Arin said. "I had you. And a hard head. And the grace of my god."
"Damn>/i> your god."
Arin caught her arm above the elbow. She turned to face him. All trace of humor had left his face. His eyes were wide, urgent. "Don't say that."
"Why not? I can say anything. Anything except what really matters."
"Kestrel, take it back. You'll offend him."
"Your god risks you."
"He protects me."
"You're his plaything."
"You're wrong. He loves me."
Saying those words made him look so alone. He reminded her of sails curved by the wind, full and yet empty at the same time. She found that she was jealous of his god. The sudden jealousy held her so hard in its grip that she couldn't breathe.
"It's true," Arin insisted.
She saw then that she had hurt him, that his god's love was all the more precious to him because of his fear that he would find it nowhere else. Her anger rinsed away. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I ask your pardon. His, too. ~ Marie Rutkoski

But there is the happiness he promised, too. He loves me without being in love with me and that's all I can ask of him. I don't even need to hear him say it to believe it. ~ Adam Silvera

Part of me hates that you know me so well."
"And the other part?"
Prophet gave a faint grin, then said quietly, "Loves it," like if he said it too loudly, fate might swoop in and snatch this moment, the word, out from under them.
Tom stilled. He didn't need the words, never really had. Like Prophet, he valued actions, but to actually hear that one word out of Prophet's mouth ... it was all Tom needed. ~ S.E. Jakes

The day we were going to meet, I was going to give this to you. I wanted to give you something that conveyed how I felt about you and this was the only thing I had of value."

Tears filled Darcy's eyes, but they never left Lucien's gaze. "You were going to give me her necklace?"

"It was all I had to give."

She was about to throw herself into his arms. Oh my God. What a gesture. .But he stopped her. "I'm not done."

"Sorry," Darcy said, but she couldn't manage disgruntled. She was just too damn happy.

"I was going to give this to you as a promise, a promise to never hurt you, to never leave you, to always find my way back to you even when we were pissed off and wanted to kill each other. A promise to love only you as long as I drew breath."

His hand closed over the necklace. "But you didn't show up."

"What?" And then she punched him because he had made her cry again with the most perfect words ever.

He laughed before he unhooked the clasp and secured it around her neck. "I was a kid then." He climbed from bed and returned with a small box in his hand.

He handed it to her. Her hands shook when she lifted the lid to see the sapphire, the color almost the exact shade of her eyes, surrounded by diamonds.

"But the man I've become still loves you as desperately as the kid I was. Marry me, Darcy. ~ L.A. Fiore

With my gaze on anything but Cade, I moved around the room but when Scout spotted me he trotted over. I knelt down and rubbed his ears. The silky fur between my fingers stirred memories.

Scout's tongue flicked under my chin. I leaned my head back and smiled.

"He kissed you," a little boy said. "That means he likes you."

"You think so?" I scrubbed my hands over Scout's neck.

"Yeah. Right, Cade? Dog kisses mean they like you."

I kept my eyes on Scout to avoid looking at Cade.

"Yep, means he likes her." He sat a few feet away and his words wrapped around me, his voice comforting.

Scout lifted his paw and placed it on my knee.

"What's that mean, Cade?" The little boy pointed to my leg.

"Hmm, maybe he doesn't want her to leave." I peeked over, and Cade met my gaze. "He likes her too much."

I looked away.

"Maybe he loves her," the little boy said in a singsong voice.

Without missing a beat Cade said, "Maybe he does."

The little boy broke into a fit of belly laughs, and Cade scooted closer. He poked him playfully in the side. "Hey, what's funny about that?"

"He's a dog. She's a girl."

"That's true," Cade whispered. "But a pretty one, so can you really blame him?"

The little boy giggled more. "That's silly."

Scout nudged me with his wet nose and I cupped his face. "It's okay, boy, the feeling is mutu ~ Renita Pizzitola

I fell back against the wall and he came up to me, grinding his teeth, and, as I fell upon my knees, he hissed mad, incoherent words and curses at me. Leaning over me, he cried, 'Look! You want to see! See! Feast your eyes, glut your soul on my cursed ugliness! Look at Erik's face! Now you know the face of the voice! You were not content to hear me, eh? You wanted to know what I looked like! Oh, you women are so inquisitive! Well, are you satisfied? I'm a very good-looking fellow, eh? … When a woman has seen me, as you have, she belongs to me. She loves me for ever. I am a kind of Don Juan, you know!' And, drawing himself up to his full height, with his hand on his hip, wagging the hideous thing that was his head on his shoulders, he roared, 'Look at me! I AM DON JUAN TRIUMPHANT!' And, when I turned away my head and begged for mercy, he drew it to him, brutally, twisting his dead fingers into my hair."

"Enough! Enough!" cried Raoul. "I will kill him. In Heaven's name, Christine, tell me where the dining-room on the lake is! I must kill him!"

"Oh, be quiet, Raoul, if you want to know!"

"Yes, I want to know how and why you went back; I must know! … But, in any case, I will kill him!"

"Oh, Raoul, listen, listen! … He dragged me by my hair and then … and then … Oh, it is too horrible!"

"Well, what? Out with it!" exclaimed Raoul fiercely. "Out with it, quick!"

"Then he hissed at me. 'Ah, I frighten you, do I? … I da ~ Gaston Leroux

Now come," he said. "Does your Alex love you back, or is he a hopeless idiot?"
"He loves me," she said quietly. "But I'm afraid he'll stop after we marry. He'll change his mind. He'll - "
"He'll love you more. Trust me."
"Really?" She was far too somber.
"Really." He had no words to make her smile, and so Gareth tweaked her nose.
And she giggled.
It had been a long time since he'd laughed. But despite all those years, he still remembered how. What he'd
forgotten was the lightness of his soul when he did so. The moment was perfect. ~ Courtney Milan

This is where he should say that he is in love with me, that I have changed his life and that he loves me for it. But he doesn't. Is it because he is shy? Or because he is too young to say such a thing? Or is it merely because he does not love me? The worst of it is, I am falling in love with him. ~ Alex Flinn

After Josh leaves and Kitty goes upstairs to watch TV, I'm tidying up the living room and Peter's sprawled out on the couch watching me. I keep thinking he's about to leave, but then he keeps lingering.
Out of nowhere he says, "Remember back at Halloween how you were Cho Chang and Sanderson was Harry Potter? I bet you that wasn't a coincidence. I bet you a million bucks he got Kitty to find out what your costume was and then he ran out and bought a Harry Potter costume. The kid is into you."
I freeze. "No, he isn't. He loves my sister. He always has and he always will."
Peter waves this off. "Just you wait. As soon as you and I are done, he's gonna pull some cheesy-ass move and, like, profess his love for you with a boom box. I'm telling you, I know how guys think."
I yank away the pillow he's got cushioning his bac and put it on the recliner. "My sister will be home for winter break soon. I bet you a million dollars they get back together."
Peter holds his hand out for me to shake on it, and when I take it, he pulls me onto the couch next to him. Our legs touch. He has a mischievous glint in his eye, and I think maybe he's going to kiss me, and I'm scared, but I'm excited, too. But then I hear Kitty's footsteps coming down the stairs, and the moment's over. ~ Jenny Han

He doesn't like Emma and Rachel making plans together. Not because he thinks they're being devious, but because he doesn't like feeling left out. Not to mention that when Emma is making plans without him, they're usually reckless. The only reason she'd keep a secret from him is if she was doing something he didn't approve of, or didn't want him to interfere with. After all, her motto is "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission."
Galen despises that motto.
"I cleared out the sporting goods store this morning," Rachel says. "I took what was on the shelf and made them cough up their stock in the back."
Galen tenses up. Emma laughs. "Don't be jealous, Highness. Rachel still loves you more than she loves me."
"Aww! You guys are fighting over me?" Rachel says, pinching Galen's cheek. "That's so adorable."
"I'm not jealous," he says, trying not to sound pouty. "I just don't know why we would need life jackets."
"We don't," Emma says, wriggling around on his lap so she can face him. Secretly, he's delighted. "But humans do. And if my job is keeping the humans safe, then I should be prepared, right?"
But Galen is too distracted by the close proximity of her mouth to be bothered with the words coming out of it. She must recognize it, because she leans forward as if giving him a chance to make good on his craving. It's all the invitation he needs.
He captures her mouth with his. Life jackets, islands, and airports are forgotten. The only thi ~ Anna Banks

But he would understand," he said dazedly. "If we explained it to him. If we told him…he would understand."

She made her voice as cold as she could. As calm. "Told him what?"

Will only looked at her. There had been light in his eyes on the stairs… And it was going now, fading like the last breath of someone dying. She felt as if she were watching the life bleed out of Will Herondale.

"Jem would forgive me," Will said, but there was hopelessness in his face, his voice, already. He had given up, Tessa thought. "He would," she said, "He would never stay angry at you, Will; he loves you too well for that. I do not even think he would hold anger toward me. But this morning he told me he thought he would die without ever loving anyone as his father loved his mother, without ever being loved like that in return. Do you want me to go down the hallway and knock on his door and take that away from him? And would you love me still, if I did?"

"Then…please, Tessa, don't tell him what I just told you…"

"I will tell no one," she said. "I swear it… ~ Cassandra Clare

Then Toraf opens the passenger side door…Wait. That's not Toraf.
I've never seen this man before, yet he's eerily familiar. His silhouette sitting next to Galen was definitely classic Syrena male, but the glare from the sun had hidden his face. I'd naturally just assumed that where there's a Galen, there's a Toraf. Now that his face is in full view though, I see that this man looks like a slightly older version of Galen. Slightly older as in slightly more jaded. Other than that, he could be his twin brother. It may be because he's wearing some of Galen's clothes, a wrinkled brown polo shirt and plaid shorts. But he shares other things, too, besides clothes.
He's handsome like Galen, with the same strong jaw and the same eyebrow shape and the way he's wearing the same expression on his face that Galen is-that he's found what he's been looking for. Only, the stranger's expression clearly divulges that he's been looking for a lot longer than Galen has-and this man is not looking at me.
And that's when I know just exactly who he is. That's when I believe the look in Galen's eyes. That he didn't lie to me, that he loves me. Because this man has to be Grom.
Mom confirms it with a half cry, half growl. "No. No. It can't be." Even if she weren't handcuffed to Rachel right now, I'm not sure she'd actually be able to move. Disbelief has a special way of paralyzing you.
With every step the man takes toward Rachel's car, he shakes his head more vigorously. It's l ~ Anna Banks

I'm going to have to start booking you guys a month in advance."
"Or you could invite Ms. Rothschild over," Kitty suggests. "Her weekends are pretty lonely too."
He gives her a funny look. "I'm sure she has plenty she'd rather do than watch The Sound of Music with her neighbor."
Brightly I say, "Don't forget the tacos al pastor! Those are a draw, too. And you, of course. You're a draw."
"You're definitely a draw," Kitty pipes up.
"Guys," Daddy begins.
"Wait," I say. "Let me just say one thing. You should be going on some dates, Daddy."
"I go on dates!"
"You've gone on, like, two dates ever," I say, and he falls silent. "Why not ask Ms. Rothschild out? She's cute, she has a good job, Kitty loves her. And she lives really close by."
"See, that's exactly why I shouldn't ask her out," Daddy says. "You should never date a neighbor or a coworker, because then you'll have to keep seeing them if things don't work out."
Kitty asks, "You mean like that quote 'Don't shit where you eat'?" When Daddy frowns, Kitty quickly corrects herself. "I mean 'Don't poop where you eat.' That's what you mean, right, Daddy?"
"Yes, I suppose that's what I mean, but Kitty, I don't like you using cuss words."
Contritely she says, "I'm sorry. But I still think you should give Ms. Rothschild a chance. If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out."
"Well, I'd hate to see you get your hopes up," Daddy says.
"That's life," Kitty says. "Things ~ Jenny Han

I've been absent from you too long. I miss you so badly and yet this being apart makes me realise you're not simply the faithful man who loves me so astonishingly well, but an angel, sent for some unfathomable reason to look out for me. I should have realised this truth years ago because you are so extraordinary, so unlike other men, so unlike me, this weak, vain, faithless creature you have been so intent on saving from himself. I should have realised from the first moment I saw you in that trench, when I fell so badly in love with you and hoped you wouldn't notice. Or perhaps not then, but later, when you saved my life so often just by lending me courage when I was half-mad from fear. How much courage you had to spare – I will never forget. But angels are courageous, aren't they? I should know. I have never understood why I deserved such grace.

I don't have your faith, Patrick, or your love of God. I am uncertain and afraid, I wish you were with me now, not just in spirit, as I know you are and always have been, but here in body. I need to cower behind you, because if God is real He might be kinder knowing you loved me.

If angels need to pray, pray for me. ~ Marion Husband