Held Onto Quotes

As I held onto Rosemary Telesco for dear life, we both knew the truth. She was going off to camp and eventually, private school. We were on different roads, she and me. Two ships that passed in Sheep Meadow. ~ Jennifer Flackett

Shadow crawled across the floor to the yellow foam-rubber pad and climbed onto it, pulling the thin blanket over himself, and closed his eyes, and he held onto nothing, and he held onto dreams. ~ Neil Gaiman

Floating there I held onto faith. Because you can't know who might cross your path or who will take your breath away. You can't know what friends might actually become sisters because they stayed by your side. You can't know when there'll be an unexpected detour that'll take you to the place where you were always meant to be. ~ Holly C. Corbett

To be good is an unnatural condition. There is no man that is born knowing what humility is, what kindness and compassion and hope and love and generosity are. These are things that must be learned. Learned through trials and through pain and through suffering; held onto every inch of the way. Good is not born, it is made ~ Carlos Ramirez

One colleague who's been in the industry longer than I had been gave me a valuable piece of advice. "Stay close to the facts and observe things fully and report. Then you can be a mediocre journalist." I held onto his words when I worked and I've been following that advice for 16 years. ~ Hark-Joon Lee

I enjoy every minute, because there are going to be a lot of moments in your future that you're going to wish you held onto longer. ~ Joe Nichols

And in the middle of the flood I felt my worth when you held onto me like I was your little life raft. Please know that you were mine as well. ~ Snow Patrol

It's an exciting adventure to give those things that you've always held onto. ~ Frederick Lenz

Sobriety had happened at a strange time in my sex life, and maybe I wouldn't have held onto it had it not been for both of the men involved in the transition. But sobriety made me realize, in lonely moments and long introspective jags, that while sex wasn't the only thing that I was good at, it was still something I enjoyed. The difference was choosing the people I invited to the playground, so to speak. If Eren had been any less fired up than he was, pushing firmly and slowly into me, watching my face for silent cues while I pushed my head back into the bed, stretching my neck and growling, reacquainting myself with the feeling of being filled, it wouldn't have been right.

But it was right. I'd chosen well. I almost laughed when he was completely inside of me and I got swept up in the truth of the matter, the reasonably overwhelming knowledge that yeah, this was something I might not fuck up. And god, I loved sex. God, I loved not having to feel like I was hiding inside of its fortress. ~ Vee Hoffman

Memphis held onto me until I was far enough along in my art and then it let me go. ~ Valerie June

And for a moment he simply held her and she held onto him.
It might have been the most perfect moment of his life so far. ~ Julie Anne Long

Let's forgive someone for Valentines day, it's a great way to show love, and forgive yourself too for the hurt you held onto. ~ Jay Woodman

And ultimately, when almost everything I did was controlled by the Superiors, by my teachers and by Paulo, I took what little control I could for myself and held onto it fiercely. ~ Lauren Nicolle Taylor

With failing bravado, Dexter tried to laugh. "You sound like you're dumping me!"
She smiled sadly. "I suppose I am in a way. You're not who you used to be, Dex, I really, really liked the old one. I'd like him back, but in the meantime, I'm sorry, but I don't think you should phone me anymore." She turned and, a little unsteadily, began to walk off down the side alley in the direction of Leicester Square.
For a moment, Dexter had a fleeting but perfectly clear memory of himself at his mother's funeral, curled up on the bathroom floor while Emma held onto him and stroked his hair.Yet somehow he had managed to treat this as nothing, to throw it all away for dross. He followed a little way behind her. "Come on, Em, we're still friends aren't we? I know I've been a little weird, it's just..." She stopped for a moment, but didn't turn round, and he knew that she was crying. "Emma?"
Then very quickly she turned, walked up to him and pulled his face to hers, her cheek warm and wet against his, speaking quickly and quietly in his ear, and for one bright moment he thought he was to be forgiven.
"Dexter, I love you so much. So, so much, and I probably always will." Her lips touched his cheek. "I just don't like you anymore. I'm sorry."
And then she was gone, and he found himself on the street, standing alone in this back alley trying to imagine what he would possibly do next. ~ David Nicholls

Politicians lie with almost every breath they mustered, and didn't hesitate to slit each other's throats for gain. They were whores willing to sell their vote to the highest bidder. The second was ineffectiveness. Politicians did not represent the people who elected them. They might have held onto the delusion that they served the public, but the only thing they represented was big business ~ Richard Stephenson

I held onto her and the world slipped away. She calmed my mind and my soul lifted when close to her. Mina Harris was the better part of me, and I would keep her happy for the rest of my life. ~ Belle Aurora

She suddenly realized how much she loved the rain; loved the way it seemed like the sky was purging something it held onto; the feeling of relief that settled over the earth the moment it passed. As if the universe, and all its tiny pieces, took one collective sigh and moved on to the next thing. ~ Abby Slovin

Hi, I'm Jude Ryder Jamieson," he began, extending his hand. I took it, shaking it. He held onto it when I tried to pull it back. "My mom left when I was thirteen. My dad's serving a life sentence for killing a young kid. I spent the last five years in a boys' home being bullied, beat, and abused by the kids, the staff, and even the goddamn dog. I sold drugs. I did drugs. I got arrested. A lot. I screwed a lot of faceless women." He paused, sucking in a breath. "And then I met one whose face I couldn't forget. I fell in love with her. I hurt her because I fell in love with her and was afraid she was going to leave me the way everyone else had." He lifted his other hand, cradling mine between his. "I still love her. ~ Nicole Williams

When he tore his eyes from the piece of parchment, his gaze went straight to Sophie, a strange look on his face. He tossed the letter over his shoulder, strode across the room toward her, his eyes alight with triumph. He grabbed Sophie around the waist, tilted her backward, and kissed her passionately on the lips. Finding herself off balance, Sophie held onto his shoulders. Her heart soared at his sudden display of affection. ~ Melanie Dickerson

Dream pleasantly;the dreams we held onto, became a reality. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

Ocean?""Yeah baby." "Please don't leave me like everyone else, don't let me drown Ocean." "I hugged her tighter. "Livie I won't let you drown. If you drown, I drown baby." I held onto her and closed my eyes, and silently cried myself to sleep. *Ocean Hawthorne* ~ MEL D

I'm falling even more in love with you
letting go of all i've held onto
standing here untill you make me move
just hanging by a moment here with you
I'm living for the only thing i know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
and I don't know what i'm diving into
just hanging by a moment here with you ~ Lifehouse

Sam groaned. A warmth on her face alerted her to the new morning. She opened one eye and peered at the fuzzy daylight streaming in through the window. Her head throbbed like a bitch. Her mouth felt like a carpet. She pushed herself off the couch and stood up shakily, kicking bottles as she stumbled to her small kitchen. Every movement was painful and slow. She was a sloth tight-roping through time. She held onto the basin for a moment to steady herself. She grabbed a plastic cup and opened the tap, letting it flow as she filled and refilled it, gulping down as much water as she could. She splashed her face, neck and chest with water, then refilled the cup and dumped the contents over her head. She stood there, unaware of the moments passing by, as the water dripped down her body. Willing herself to wake up and feel better. Willing the nausea into oblivion. ~ Adelheid Manefeldt

Sometimes when I felt the eyes crawling on me from all sides, I got scared thinking someone was looking who wasn't just curious. I knew it was my imagination and I got used to it, learned to shunt it away. But sometimes I held onto it quietly, that feeling that someone behind or beside me in the crowd – some guy leaning on the target booth with a rifle, or some cranky sweating father spending too much on ride tickets to keep his kids away from him – anybody could be looking at me in the sidelong way that norms use to look at freaks, but thinking of me twitching and biting at the dirt while my guts spilled out of the big escape hatch he'd cut for them… a feeling like that is special. Sometimes you hold onto it quietly for a while. ~ Katherine Dunn

I felt Red's arm close around me like a shield against the rest of the world. His mouth was against my hair, and his heart thumped violently under my cheek. I shut my eyes, and held onto his shirt with both hands, and wept. ~ Juliet Marillier

While I'm critical to the Bush presidency, it's been enormously beneficial for Salon because we're seen as kind of an aggressive watchdog on the Bush White House. Particularly since Florida, our readership hit a whole new level, and we held onto those readers. ~ David Talbot

We were drifting apart. I felt helpless to stop the pattern, but still, I held onto him for dear life. ~ R.K. Lilley

In a little while they were kissing. In a little while longer, they made their slow sweet love.
The iron bed sounded like a pine forest in an ice storm, like a switch track in a Memphis trainyard, like the sweet electrical thunder of habitual love and the tragical history of the constant heart. Auntee finished first, and then Uncle soon after, and their lips were touching lightly as they did.
The rain was still falling and the scritch owl was still asleep and the dragonflies were hidden like jewels somewhere in deep brown wet grasses, nobody knew where.
Uncle rolled away from his wife and held onto her hand, never let it go, old friend, old partner, passionate wife. ~ Lewis Nordan

Music saved me; I mean, my upbringing was like a hurricane, and music was the tree I held onto. ~ Eddie Vedder

What changed your mind?"
"I never changed my mind." Stitch grunted as he threw the bag as far as he could into the black water.
Zak sighed, rushed toward him, and pulled him away from the shore. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the water getting rough in the moonlight as reptiles crept closer in the darkness, ready for some fresh meat. "Will you come back home with me?" he uttered, cold sweat sliding down his back.
Stitch took a deep breath and held onto Zak's hand. "If you'll have me," he whispered. "This was such a shit day, wasn't it?"
Zak squeezed his hand tightly with a shuddery sigh. A man who had trembled with pleasure in his bed turned into gator feed, and Zak was choosing to betray him. The death could still be discovered, they could still be charged with murder, but he was determined to keep himself in one piece. "I just want to kiss you so badly."
Stitch bowed down to him and gave the kiss Zak so deeply craved. His soft, warm lips were somehow making all the black thoughts flee into the depths of Zak's mind. "I can't please everyone." His voice was so weak it was getting lost in the sounds of splashing water and buzzing insects.
Zak pushed himself against Stitch and gasped as adrenaline shot into his brain. Stitch's scent was sharper than ever, spiked with all the stress and fear of the passing day. "I love you."
"I know, I love you too." Stitch kissed Zak's lips once more and stroked the side of his head. "Let's go home. ~ K.A. Merikan

Xcor held onto the male's shoulders and pushed himself back a little. Meeting Tohrment in the eye, he whispered, "My brother." "Yes," the male said hoarsely, a sheen of tears making that blue stare glow like a pair of sapphires. "I am your brother." It was hard to say who embraced who, but suddenly they were both holding on, one upon another, warrior to warrior. There ~ J.R. Ward

Zane walked over to the bookshelf and picked up a tin container with pencils in it. He rattled the pencils around in a circle, then reached into the tin to pull out a piece of chalk. Then he drew a circle on the wood floor around the chair Mary sat in.
"What are you doing?"
"At the end of my dream, I was very old. And I shed my skin. And I became something frightening that wasn't like me at all. If I come back, and I've turned into a monster, then you'll be safe from me in there."
"Oh, I don't like this." She felt a little punchy, a little giggly. "And then you're going off to the bathroom to pee? You're going to have to hold it." She held onto his hand. It was like her dad's hand, maybe even a bit older. The skin was soft, and thinner than her father's.
"No, really, I have to go." He pulled his hand.
She didn't let go. She giggled. "I'm not going to let you go. Not after you just said that to me."
Her giggling was a bit infectious. And he got the bug. He laughed. "But I have to go."
"Well, you shouldn't have said that first. 'I might turn into a horrible monster of which you should be so afraid that you'll remain in a chalk . . .'" She giggle-snorted. "'Chalk ring.' How's that going to help me?" She giggled again. "I'm having too much fun, Zane; I'm not going to let this turn into some horrible nightmare, because then I'm going to make myself wake up and I might never see you again."
They stared and stared at each other, the grins fro ~ James T. Riley

Wisdom can be found and held onto ... but wisdom can never be purchased. It is not for sale. ~ Doug Berry

Kane," he growled. "Go. Away."

"No," Kane retorted. "You woke me up to help pack your shit, so leave your girl alone and come help."

Alec snarled, "I'll kill you if you don't walk away."

"And I'll sit on you if you don't leave this room," Kane snapped back.

I couldn't help it, I laughed.

"Later," Alec murmured in my ear then kissed my cheek.

I held onto his arms. "Promise?" I murmured back as he stood up and pulled me to my feet.

He growled down at me and angled his face to kiss me again, but Kane was there to put a stop to that too.

"Don't even think about it."

Alec whimpered, "I hate you so much."

I snorted. ~ L.A. Casey

I watched you wake up and try to wake me up too. I could still feel you touch my face and my cheek. I liked the way you brushed my hair back with your hand. I liked the way held onto my hands with your hands. They must have felt a little cold and a little wet but they started to feel warm again when you held onto them. I want you to know that I stayed there with you and held onto you too. ~ Michael Kimball

Shut up. Take down your pants. I'm going to mark you as mine."
Nick squeaked and held onto his belt, fighting Damian for possession of it. "Here? Everyone will hear. They'll know!"
"I want them to know," Damian said, winning the wrestling match for the belt as was inevitable that he would.
"London!" Nick gasped. "London!"
Damian stopped, his eyes clearing as he noticed how terrified Nick looked. After a long minute, he pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to scare you. I thought you'd like it. ~ Catt Ford

"Baby, you gave that to someone else, it wouldn't be mine. Now it's mine. No one can ever have it. It'll always be mine. I love it. I think it's beautiful. So I absolutely do not think the town's sweet, cute, pretty, shy librarian who held onto that for as long as you did then gave it to me is anything but really fuckin' good." ~ Kristen Ashley

This wasn't what she expected. Never, in her wildest dreams. This... this was the Blood Queen of Garbhán Isle? Scourge of the Madron lands? Destroyer of Villages? Demon Killer of Women and Children? She who had blood pacts with the darkest of gods? This was Annwyl the Bloody?
Talaith watched, fascinated, as Annwyl held onto Morfyd the Witch's wrists. Morfyd - the Black Witch of Despair, Killer of the Innocent, Annihilator of Souls, and all around Mad Witch of Garbhán Isle or so she was called on the Madron lands - had actually tried to sneak up on Annwyl to put ointment on the nasty wound the queen had across her face. But as soon as the warrior saw her, she squealed and grabbed hold of her. Now Annwyl lay on her back, Morfyd over her, trying her best to get Annwyl to stop being a ten year old.
"If you just let me - "
"No! Get that centaur shit away from me, you demon bitch!"
"Annwyl, I'm not letting you go home to my brother looking like that. You look horrific."
"He'll have to love me in spite of it. Now get off!"
...
"Ow!"
"Crybaby."
No, this isn't what Talaith expected. Annwyl the Blood Queen was supposed to be a vicious, uncaring warrior bent on revenge and power. She let her elite guard rape and and pillage wherever they went, and she used babies as target practice while their mothers watched in horror. That's what she was supposed to be and that's what Talaith expected to find. Instead, she found Annwyl. Just Annwyl ~ G.A. Aiken

I was where my heart held out hope that someday I would be again. It was the reason I never forgot him. My heart had held onto him. And as he clung to me, as he soothed me, held me, I felt everything begin to relax. ~ Rebecca Ethington

Out of sheer stubbornness, I just would keep going - just hoping that at some point something would click. I certainly held onto the hope that it might. I had no guarantees, but I trusted that if I worked hard and put in the time, it would eventually reap a fruit. I just didn't know what that fruit was going to be or how big it was going to be. ~ R.A. Dickey

Jatred gripped Jasmira's hand. This time his fingers didn't go through like they did before, when she appeared as an illusion. Her body was solid again. She held onto the chain halfway between the jewel and the clasp. The clasp flew open. One side of the chain encircled his wrist. The other part snaked around Jasmira's wrist. It linked them in an unexpected bind. The metal felt as cold as a sheet of ice. They both yelled and tried to pull free, but it wouldn't budge. ~ A.O. Peart

So, unlike the heroes of Hebrews 11 who held onto nothing of this life, these dying churches held onto everything, at least everything that made them comfortable and happy. Such is the reason we speak of them in the past. ~ Thom S. Rainer

I've held onto Ugg boots. I will never graduate to Crocs, but Ugg boots are always and forever. That's my fashion stepchild. ~ Johnny Weir

It was just a coat, I know, but I held onto it for so long. I'm not even sure why I kept it. It was with me every day. It kept me warm and dry, and billowed behind me as I rode my bike across the lot in the wee hours of the night. I can't help feeling a little sad it's gone. [But], the coat has served its purpose. The sun is blazing, and I don't need it to keep me warm anymore. Rather than mourn the loss of my jacket, I will be thankful for the time we had together. I thank it for all it did for me, and then I let it go. ~ Lauren Graham

I held onto Caeden's neck with one hand and used the other to keep my dress from flashing my fanny at any unsuspecting woodland creatures. The sight might shock them to death. ~ Micalea Smeltzer

Cupping my cheeks, he exhaled a soft groan, and his lips scorched mine as he deepened the kiss until we both were breathless from its intensity. Daemon moved as close as he could with the chair between us. Gripping his arms, I held onto him, wanting him closer. The chair prevented all but our lips and hands from touching. Frustrating.
Move, I ordered restlessly.
It trembled under my foot, and then the heavy oak chair slid out from under me, dodging our leaning bodies. Unprepared for the sudden void, Daemon lurched forward, and I was unable to carry the unexpected weight. I collapsed backward, bringing Daemon along with me.
The full contact of his body, flush against mine, sent my senses into chaotic overdrive. His tongue swept over mine as his fingers splayed across my cheeks. His hand slid down my side, gripping my hip as he urged me closer. The kisses slowed and his chest rose as he drank me in.
With one last lingering exploration, he lifted his head and smiled down at me.
My heart skipped a beat as he hovered over me with an expression that tugged deep in my chest. He moved his finger back up, along my cheek, trailing an invisible path to my chin.
"I didn't move that chair, Kitten."
"I know."
"I'm assuming you didn't like where it was?"
"It was in your way," I said. My hands were still curled around his arms.
"I can see that." Daemon smoothed a fingertip over the curve of my bottom lip before taking my hand, pulling m ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I think if you've held onto a character for several years and then you're getting rid of that character, it's going to be traumatic. ~ Dominic Monaghan

I thought about my Willa, about her blind-smiling at me from the hospital bed where she laid and where she died a few hours later, thought about the girl my Willa was in the picture she'd shown me, smiling out from inside the old lady Willa on the night she died. I thought about that wild Willa picture, and about the certain order she'd pulled that picture and others out of her hatbox to share with me on the summer nights when we were doing our secret sharing.

And I thought about people saving certain pictures for a reason, saving and discarding according to the self-told story of themselves, how mainly it had nothing to do with who they were in the everyday, but instead, who they were in their special caught moments. How they held onto those pictures, and they held. ~ Robin Martin

Nobody ever talked about what a struggle this all was. I could see why women used to die in childbirth. They didn't catch some kind of microbe, or even hemorrhage. They just gave up. They knew that if they didn't die, they'd be going through it again the next year, and the next. I couldn't understand how a woman might just stop trying, like a tired swimmer, let her head go under, the water fill her lungs. I slowly massaged Yvonne's neck, her shoulders, I wouldn't let her go under. She sucked ice through threadbare white terry. If my mother were here, she'd have made Melinda meek cough up the drugs, sure enough.
"Mamacita, ay," Yvonne wailed.
I didn't know why she would call her mother. She hated her mother. She hadn't seen her in six years, since the day she locked Yvonne and her brother and sisters in their apartment in Burbank to go out and party, and never came back. Yvonne said she let her boyfriends run a train on her when she was eleven. I didn't even know what that meant. Gang bang, she said. And still she called out, Mama.
It wasn't just Yvonne. All down the ward, they called for their mothers. ...
I held onto Yvonne's hands, and I imagined my mother, seventeen years ago, giving birth to me. Did she call for her mother?...I thought of her mother, the one picture I had, the little I knew. Karin Thorvald, who may or may not have been a distant relation of King Olaf of Norway, classical actress and drunk, who could recite Shakespeare by heart while ~ Janet Fitch

Time had passed, yet her heart held onto him. She did not draw breath without thinking of him. She did not dream without feeling his presence at her side. His voice, in memory, was sweeter than any she'd heard. And she did not want to be without him. ~ Sasha Summers

She's held onto her sobriety better than she held into her husband. ~ Stephen King

I held onto it as the world tilted upside down in
a dizzying vortex of lost dreams. ~ Gina Marinello-Sweeney

In the weak light of the lonely lamp, he held onto her, for a solid minute, his head buried in her neck as if he needed her. Just like the night in the hotel room when he pressed his forehead to hers and damn near liquefied her heart. ~ Kendall Grey

You remember what you go through as a kid, what's going to make you listen, what's going to make you respond. I held onto that. People who treated me like that when I was younger got every bit of respect and attention I could give them, because I knew that they were coming at me from almost an equal level. ~ Jesse L. Martin

Cabel felt the familiar nostalgic excitement of the endless possibilities encapsulated in a summers' night at Silver Beach. He smiled at himself as a boy and, more ruefully, at the man who now stood on the worn planks of the boardwalk. This night held no possibilities for him, though it was pleasant to remember a time when it did. ~ Erin Farwell

He sees daily evidence that many things held to be true by nine-tenths of all men are, in reality, false, and he is thereby apt to acquire a doubt of everything, including his own beliefs. ~ H.L. Mencken

[There can be no] rational administration of government when good men are held in the same esteem as bad ones. ~ Polybius

This book comes from the reflections and experience of more than forty years spent in court. Aside from the practice of my profession, the topics I have treated are such as have always held my interest and inspired a taste for books that discuss the human machine with its manifestations and the causes of its varied activity. ~ Clarence Darrow

Occasionally, you will come across a wise crack by a pseudoliberal who will refer to God as "she," as if that is the most revolutionary idea known to man, that God could be feminine. Never in such a context is the history of the sexuality of God elucidated, as if it was so obvious to all that God could only be masculine, until the author came along and declared by fiat its femininity. In fact, there did exist matriarchal societies extending from the unknown past into the early historical period. It appears they existed along the "highland zone" which is the foothills extending along the mountainous region from the Pyrenees to the Himalayas. These matriarchal societies influenced the early Sumerian civilization and to a large extent the Minoan civilization, which was one of the few, if not the only matriarchal civilization. These societies were largely overrun and dissipated by invasions of the northern, patriarchal groups but these latter groups did incorporate some matriarchal aspects which exist to this day. For example, although the chief deities of Greece and Rome were masculine, there continued to be a panoply of feminine gods. Or take for example, the history of the Basque people of SW France. Also, when masculine Judaism moved from the Levant to Rome via moderate Christianity and the reconciling Paul, it eventually grafted in the idea of Virgin Mary the Divine. A distant version of this idea stands in New York harbor with her head and torch held high, neither bull dyke ~ Scott Mckee

Liquor and loss were a desperate combination but particularly for my family, where the precipice between darkness and lightness was mired in the uncertainty of which side held salvation. ~ Angela Amman

Your question."
"Never mind."
"I'll tell you."
He shook his head. "Not necessary."
"It is you. It's true, I haven't wanted it to be you who tells me things I can't recall. Not you." She saw his flinch, and the effort to hide it. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Who are you, that you get to know so much about me that even I don't know? Why do you get to tell me who I am? How did you get so much power? I have none. It's not fair. You are unfair." Her voice broke. "I am unfair."
His expression changed. "Kestrel."
She held her breath until her lungs ached. She couldn't speak. Here was the truth, it peeled itself open: she was the reason she was in that prison. She had made some fatal, unknown mistake. Arin looked like a good culprit, but he wasn't the right one.
She was. It had been her fault, hers alone.
He reached across the table. His warm hand dwarfed hers. She saw it through her swimming vision. Those black-rimmed nails.
Blacksmith.
A sudden understanding held her still. She became aware of the weight of the dagger at her hip. Her sight cleared. She looked at Arin. He looked young. And too careful, and worried, and uncertain, and…something new was emerging, she saw it. It changed the quality of his expression the way light changes everything. A small sort of hope.
"Maybe," he said, "we could try being honest with each other."
She wondered what was in her expression that hope would grow in his. She wondered what he saw. "A ~ Marie Rutkoski

The notion that inventors are anorak-wearing crackpots with glasses held together with Sellotape is beguiling but wrong. ~ Trevor Baylis

There seemed to be so many things that I needed, but I held myself in check and purchased only essentials - with the exception of one extravagance. I had determined that I would drink my tea like a lady, even in a log house; so I purchased a teapot and two cups and saucers of fine china. I felt somehow Mama's mind would be much more at ease about me if she knew that I was having my tea in the proper fashion. After all, civilization could not be too far away from Pine Springs if I had such amenities! ~ Janette Oke

She would try to paint. She would always try, for the road to perfection held an irresistible lure, even if the destination remained always tantalizingly just beyond the farthest horizon. ~ Mary Balogh

He could do only one thing at a time. If he held her, he couldn't kiss her. If he kissed her, he couldn't see her. If he saw her, he couldn't feel her. ~ Arundhati Roy

Gabriel nudged her with his shoulder. "Look."
The newborn goat was standing on his own wobbly legs, taking drunken steps. When he toppled sideways, he bleated indignantly.
Gabriel started to reach for him, but Penny held him back. "Wait."
Marigold roused herself and ambled over to her kid, licking him about the head until George lurched and swayed himself to his hooves, and when he nosed at her swollen underside, she allowed him to nurse.
"Oh. That's lovely." Penny snuggled under Gabriel's arm.
"Thank God she finally took to him," he said.
"How could she not? Look how adorable he is. Best little goat in the world. ~ Tessa Dare

That was when my hard persona cracked and shattered into pieces. My hands shook as I wiped away all of the tears streaming down my face. The hysteria that I'd held in all night fled my body. ~ Kenya Wright

We want accountability. We just buried a president [President Gerald Ford] who did not hold another president [President Nixon] accountable for war crimes and that's why we're in Iraq right now. Our leaders who get us into these messes are the ones who need to be held accountable. ~ Cindy Sheehan

Talking to the animals? Is that really how you want to start your day?"
"Manny was helping me get my life back on track. We're discussing life goals and career choices."
Maya held up her hands. "Not before coffee, I beg you. ~ Susan Mallery

When he found out his wife was unfaithful, Hector Castillo told his son to get in the car because they were going fishing. It was after midnight but this was nothing unusual. The Rickenbacker Bridge suspended across Biscayne Bay was full of night fishermen leaning on the railings, avoiding going home to their wives. Except Hector didn't bring any fishing gear with him. He led his son, Carlito, who'd just turned three, by the hand to the concrete wall, picked him up by his waist, and held him so that the boy grinned and stretched his arms out like a bird, telling his papi he was flying, flying, and Hector said, "Si, Carlito, tienes alas, you have wings."

Then Hector pushed little Carlito up into the air, spun him around, and the boy giggled, kicking up his legs up and about, telling his father, "Higher, Papi! Higher!" before Hector took a step back and with all his might hoisted the boy as high in the sky as he'd go, told him he loved him, and threw his son over the railing into the sea. ~ Patricia Engel

I am a book.

Sheaves pressed from the pulp of oaks and pines
a natural sawdust made dingy from purses, dusty
from shelves.
Steamy and anxious, abused and misused,
kissed and cried over,
smeared, yellowed, and torn,
loved, hated, scorned.

I am a book.

I am a book that remembers,
days when I stood proud in good company
When the children came, I leapt into their arms,
when the women came, they cradled me against their soft breasts,
when the men came, they held me like a lover,
and I smelled the sweet smell of cigars and brandy as we sat together in leather chairs,
next to pool tables, on porch swings, in rocking chairs,
my words hanging in the air like bright gems, dangling,
then forgotten, I crumbled,
dust to dust.

I am a tale of woe and secrets,
a book brand-new, sprung from the loins of ancient fathers clothed in tweed,
born of mothers in lands of heather and coal soot.
A family too close to see the blood on its hands,
too dear to suffering, to poison, to cold steel and revenge,
deaf to the screams of mortal wounding,
amused at decay and torment,
a family bred in the dankest swamp of human desires.

I am a tale of woe and secrets,
I am a mystery.

I am intrigue, anxiety, fear,
I tangle in the night with madmen, spend my days cloaked in black,
hiding from myself, from dark angels,
Lise McClendon

Curiosity broke her earlier resolve. "Have you ever been tested?"
"No." He stood behind Sara, holding the camera in front so she could see. "Zoom here," he said, flicking the toggle.
"You could probably-"
"This is macro."
"Will-"
"Super macro." He kept talking over her until she gave up. "Here's where you adjust for color. This is light. Anti-shake. Red-eye." He clicked through the features like a photography instructor.
Sara Finally relented. "Why don't I point and you shoot?"
"All right." His back was stiff, and she could tell that he was irritated.
"I'm sorry I-"
"Please don't apologize."
Sara held his gaze for a few moments longer, wishing she could fix this. There was nothing to say if he wouldn't even let her apologize. ~ Karin Slaughter

One pit held the tangled severed legs of men, blood caked over kneecaps or shredded thigh muscle. Another pit held a confusion of forearms and hands. They were the graves of amputations – he'd seen them in the field, behind the surgical tent where the screams echoed long after their issuing mouths had closed unconscious. ~ Samuel Snoek-Brown

Ah! but a man cannot be held to write down in cold blood the wild and black thoughts that storm his brain when an uncontrolled passion has battered a breach for them. Yet, unless he sets up as a saint, he need not hate himself for them. He is better employed, as it humbly seems to me, in giving thanks that power to resist was given to him ... ~ Anthony Hope

Whatever has made, or does make, or may make music, should be held sacred as the golden bridle-bit of the Shah of Persia's horse,and the golden hammer, with which his hoofs are shod. ~ Herman Melville

And what about someone like Jack the Ripper? Does God love him too?" Archer stopped and held my gaze. "A man chooses what he becomes, and he must accept responsibility for his choices." "You didn't answer my question." "I don't know how to. ~ April White

Harold thought of the people he had already met on his journey. All of them were different, but none of them struck him as strange. He considered his own life and how ordinary it might look from the outside, when really it held such darkness and trouble. "I don't think you're crazy," he said."
p. 203 ~ Rachel Joyce

That we were slaves I had known all my life
and nothing could be done about it. True, we weren't bought and sold
but as long as Authority held monopoly over what we had to have and what we could sell to buy it, we were slaves. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

And perhaps it didn't matter to them, not always, what they read aloud; it was the breath of life flowing between them, and the words of the moment riding on it that held them in delight. Between some two people every word is beautiful, or might as well be beautiful. ~ Eudora Welty

Sara held up a hand. 'How exactly did you "decline" his offer?'
'By slitting his throat. ~ Nalini Singh

Orthodox Christians have the habit of claiming all great men, all men who have held important positions, men of reputation, men of wealth. As soon as the funeral is over clergymen begin to relate imaginary conversations with the deceased, and in a very little while the great man is changed to a Christian - possibly to a saint. ~ Robert Green Ingersoll

Stella knew that no matter how far a person traveled, there would always be places that held undiscovered treasure; the secrets of people and their hearts ~ Suzy Davies

He took one of her fingers and rubbed it gently against his lips. "I want to see you tomorrow," he said softly. "I want to call on you and see where you live."
She said nothing, just held herself steady, trying not to cry.
"I want to meet your parents and pet your damned dog," he continued, somewhat unsteadily. "Do you understand what I mean?"
Music and conversation still drifted up from below, but the only sound on the terrace was the harsh rasp of their breath.
"I want - " His voice dropped to a whisper, and his eyes looked vaguely surprised, as if he couldn't quite believe the truth of his own words. "I want your future. I want every little piece of you."
-Benedict & Sophie ~ Julia Quinn

She was doomed no matter what her life held. Whitlock: her Master would surely kill her. With me: she'd be even more of a slave - a Cort addict of my making. And here, alone, without me in the picture, she'd destroy herself. ~ A.A. Dark

Here's your daddy," Emily whispered to the pink bundle in her arms. They had taken her away right after she was born to run some tests. They were worried about her heart, which had scared the shit out of me. Emily had held my hand and reassured me that our little girl would be OK. She prayed to God , so she was banking on the big man to save our baby. I wished I trusted him that much.

Glines, Abbi (2014-12-15). Kiro's Emily: A Rosemary Beach Novella (The Rosemary Beach Series Book 10) (Kindle Locations 1159-1162). Atria Books. Kindle Edition. ~ Abbi Glines

Now, we've made the revolutionary discovery that children have two parents. A decade ago even the kindly Dr. Spock held mothers solely responsible for children. ~ Gloria Steinem

What if we are being held in midnight, AK? Both of us locked in the dark of our pasts. Together. And maybe we must endure the darkness for a while."
I swallowed, eyes fixed on hers.
"But then, one day will come the sunrise. The darkness will need, and the sunlight will pour in. Sunrise, AK. Just imagine." She smiled and nearly broke my fucking heart. "We can chase the sunrise together. We can be the sunrise…together."
"Yeah" I said, unable to get the word 'sunrise' from my head. I wanted that. I wanted the fucking sunrise. I wanted the sunrise with Red. ~ Tillie Cole

What, my friends, is the conquest of one nation by another? It is meaningless. Each produces the same result. But those fierce fights, when in the dawn of the ages the cave-dwellers held their own against the tier folk, or the elephants first found that they had a master, those were the real conquests - the victories that count. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

And when Elmer was about to slip out to the kitchen with her to make lemonade, Benham held him by demanding, 'What do you think of John Wesley's doctrine of perfection?'
'Oh, it's absolutely sound and proven,' admitted Elmer, wondering what the devil Mr. Wesley's doctrine of perfection might be. ~ Sinclair Lewis

Now why do I feel like Little Red Riding Hood?" Daisy asked.
Trav flashed a toothy smile and lunged for her neck. She squealed and squirmed, but he held on and chomped gently down her neck.
She smacked his arm because she liked that a little too much. "Back off, Big Bad Wolf. ~ Kylie Gilmore

So, to add to a momentous day, I corrected a misconception that my family had held for at least fifteen years and came out to them as straight. ~ Graeme Simsion

But there was nothing on the back of the door, except the screws and nuts that held the knocker on, so he said "Pooh, pooh!" and closed it with a bang. ~ Charles Dickens

I survived. I overcame my shyness at going alone to cinemas; I would take a seat with less and less embarrassment as the months went by. People stared at the middle-aged lady without a partner. I would feign indifference, while anger hammered against by nerves and the tears I held back welled behind my eyes. From the surprised looks, I gauged the slender liberty granted to women. ~ Mariama Ba

I'm so sorry. I always felt like there was something off about me, and now I know. I'm broken."
It wrecked me all over again to hear her say that.
"You're not broken."
"Then how come I can't be fixed?" she asked, shaking as she held back tears. "If I'm not broken, how come no one can fix me? ~ Robyn Schneider

Because I cannot flatter and look fair,
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy. ~ William Shakespeare

So began my love affair with books. Years later, as a college student, I remember having a choice between a few slices of pizza that would have held me over for a day or a copy of On the Road. I bought the book. I would have forgotten what the pizza tasted like, but I still remember Kerouac.
The world was mine for the reading. I traveled with my books. I was there on a tramp steamer in the North Atlantic with the Hardy Boys, piecing together an unsolvable crime. I rode into the Valley of Death with the six hundred and I stood at the graves of Uncas and Cora and listened to the mournful song of the Lenni Linape. Although I braved a frozen death at Valley Forge and felt the spin of a hundred bullets at Shiloh, I was never afraid. I was there as much as you are where you are, right this second. I smelled the gunsmoke and tasted the frost. And it was good to be there. No one could harm me there. No one could punch me, slap me, call me stupid, or pretend I wasn't in the room. The other kids raced through books so they could get the completion stamp on their library card. I didn't care about that stupid completion stamp. I didn't want to race through books. I wanted books to walk slowly through me, stop, and touch my brain and my memory. If a book couldn't do that, it probably wasn't a very good book. Besides, it isn't how much you read, it's what you read.
What I learned from books, from young Ben Franklin's anger at his brother to Anne Frank's longing for the way her ~ John William Tuohy

Check it out."
Jonah removed the bubble wrap and held up the picture for his three cousins.
Dan took a step backward. The shock was almost as powerful as it had been the day before at the Uffizi. "It's perfect! It's every bit as disgusting as the real one!"
Amy nodded. "And so fast. We only called you yesterday."
Jonah shrugged. "Even the Janus take a short cut every now and then. You can do a lot with digitization these days. You break the picture down to squares and reproduce them one at a time. The other two are just as fly."
"You mean, hog ugly," Hamilton amended.
"The serpents don't help," Dan put in critically. "Live fat spaghetti. Lady, if you're thinking of a modeling career, forget it!"
The rapper clucked sympathetically. "You guys just don't appreciate the power of the visual image. The Wiz used to be like that–until Gangsta Kronikles. When you're in film industry, you understand the whole picture's-worth-a-thousand-words deal."
Hamilton rolled his eyes. "Here we go again. ~ Gordon Korman

He held her gaze, let everything he felt for her show in his eyes. "Love you, darlin'." She rewarded him with a tremulous smile and reached up to touch his face. "Show me. ~ Kaylea Cross

But here I am at this moment, a thirty-four-year-old geek, and against my will and against my reason (although, okay, not against my character), I still want that fucking Cinderella story for myself.
More than an amazing, no-one-else-on-the-planet-knows-this secret.
More than anything else.
I want that happily-ever-after ending I imagined, as a teen, I'd get someday. That daydream I held on to as my prize for surviving those sucky years of adolescence.
Dammit, I deserve that ending.
It's just that, if I'm truly honest with myself, I can no longer tell if it's Sam, specifically, I want or if it's the nearly two-decade-old fantasy featuring him as the heroic lead.
So, at the last second, I cop out. ~ Marilyn Brant

I looked back at Constantine, and for a moment, his expression held a look of longing so fierce that it made me blink. ~ Anne Zoelle