Her Words Quotes

People always say it's changelings who most crave touch, but that's not the truth. A long time ago, long before Silence, Psy craved it more than any other.
He let her words was over him like affectionate rain. His mate, his mate, was trying to temper his grief, trying to tell him they weren't so very different after all. ~ Nalini Singh

Need someone to rescue?" She interrupted him again, spitting her words out with all the rage, contempt, and anger she had bottled up inside. "I'm not a damsel in distress, and you sir, are no knight in shining double breasted, JC Penny! ~ Dennis Sharpe

The very falsehood that stained her, was a proof how blindly she loved another
this dark, slight, elegant, handsome man
while he himself was rough, and stern, and strongly made. He lashed himself into an agony of fierce jealousy. He thought of that look, that attitude!
how he would have laid his life at her feet for such tender glances, such fond detention! He mocked at himself, for having valued the mechanical way in which she had protected him from the fury of the mob; now he had seen how soft and bewitching she looked when with a man she really loved. He remembered, point by point, the sharpness of her words
'There was not a man in all that crowd for whom she would not have done as much, far more readily than for him.' He shared with the mob, in her desire of averting bloodshed from them; but this man, this hidden lover, shared with nobody; he had looks, words, hand-cleavings, lies, concealment, all to himself. ~ Elizabeth Gaskell

We abandon our backboards along with our decorum, racing for the stairs and the promise of freedom, however temporary it may be.

"Walk!" Mrs. Nightwing shouts. When we cannot seem to heed her advice, she bellows after us that we are savages not fit for marriage. She adds that we shall be the shame of the school and something else besides, but we are down the first flight of stairs, and her words cannot touch us. ~ Libba Bray

Today i solved a problem my mother knew nothing about," Estrella said. Her words twisted, each one sounding harder, like a knot tightening. "She still doesn't. I fixed it, and she had no idea. My mother, all our mothers, they think they're holding everything up, but we have it too. It's ours too. So forget what my nother thinks i should or shouldn't be doing because we're going and getting some damn cotton candy, okay? ~ Anna-Marie McLemore

Little girl, who gave you permission to--Oh!" She bit off her words the moment that she noticed how well I was dressed, to say nothing of the two guards attending me. Her expression transformed from sour to sweet with stunning speed.
"Ah, noble lady, I see that you have a keen eye for quality," she cried. "You won't find better cloth anywhere in Delphi--warm in winter, light in summer, tightly woven, and proof against wind and rain. And just look at those colors!"
I did. They were all drab grays and browns. I held the first cloth up to the sunlight. If that was what she called a tight weave, so was a fishing net.
"I want a cloak," I told her, tossing the cloth aside. "Something long and heavy. It's for him." I nodded at Milo.
"Of course, just as you wish, I have exactly what you want, wait right here," she chattered. "I'll bring out the best I have, something worthy of the noble lord." She raised her hands to Milo in a gesture of reverence before ducking back into her house.
"'The noble lord'?" the tall guard repeated, incredulous. He and his companion snickered. Milo looked miserable.
"Ignore them," I told him, speaking low. "I promise you, before today is over, you'll be the one laughing at them. ~ Esther M. Friesner

The wheel turns for all, caro Chase. It's the karma effect, Giulia cried, aping Ilenia. She could have never imagined that her words would become prophetic so soon. ~ Stefania Mattana

In late March 2016, at a very bad Thai restaurant in the little town of Selfoss, Iceland, I and my daughters Alissa and Hannah sat with my girlfriend, Jennifer, and her daughters Sadie and Hannah (yes, two Hannahs) as Jennifer and I pressed forward with the difficult task of family blending. Jennifer's Hannah was talking about Black Lives Matter and the injustices that befall African Americans every day.

'Anti-Semitism basically doesn't exist in the United States,' she asserted.

I shocked myself with my response. I recoiled at her words and argued passionately that Jews must never think that anti-Semitism has been eradicated. Vigilance, I preached. The Jew can never be at peace.

I sounded like my grandmother. ~ Jonathan Weisman

For the first time in forever, he was stunned to silence. Not by her words, but by the tenderness in her hands, the worry in her eyes. He was an archangel. He'd been wounded far, far worse and shrugged it off. But then, there had been no woman with sun kissed by the sunset and eyes of storm gray to tear into him for daring to get himself hurt. ~ Nalini Singh

Remembering her words, Tony, you are mine and nobody else's, he acquiesced; he'd met his match. ~ Aleatha Romig

Yes, they know her. They touch her lips, gather her words, fly away with the message, disappear into the dark. Pass through the membrane that separates this world from the unseen world that lies just underneath it. ~ Margaret Atwood

So what do you think, Miss Bennet? Will you come to Pemberley?" He Spoke quietly over her shoulder; she hadn't realized he was so close. Feeling a mischievous impulse, likely from her nervousness at his proximity, she said the first thing that came to her mind.
"It is tolerable, I suppose, but not hadsome enough to tempt me."
Mr. Darcy's face went from shocked and angry, to hurt and confused, and finally to understanding as her words sunk in. ~ Elizabeth Adams

I'm in awe of how grounded Ms. Tyson is and how her performances can be different but the same. She can switch up the delivery, but it's still with the right intention. Her words are effortless in terms of their meaning and how she inhabits them. She's been doing Trip to Bountiful for four months, and it still feels real. She's pretty amazing. ~ Adepero Oduye

Once, before leaving on vacation, I copied an entire page from an Alice Munro story and left it in my typewriter, hoping a burglar might come upon it and mistake her words for my own. That an intruder would spend his valuable time reading, that he might be impressed by the description of a crooked face, was something I did not question, as I believed, and still do, that stories save you. ~ Jincy Willett

Mel opened her jaw wide to stretch it out before she spoke again so that her words were very clear. "I am going to kill you. I'm going to drag your sorry carcass out into the desert, pour honey all over you, and let the fire ants eat you."
"You're angry," he said.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Mel snapped. ~ Jenn McKinlay

I don't know if I learned anything new from this journey, but I now had a beautiful and peaceful vision of the kind of balance I wanted in my life. To be able to move calmly and peacefully from one thing to the next, each in its own time, without the pressure of other responsibilities pushing in on me. And always writing, in and around and among everything else, always writing. I loved her sense of purpose and awareness of the spirit in all things. She honors all things. And she has a purpose in the words she spreads, certain words for certain people, and she watches, and she celebrates the blossoming that comes from her words. She has a rhythm for her everyday life which is productive and intentional, measured and life-giving. ~ Marge Hulburt

What do you think, Philip? Won't she be all the rage?" I couldn't look at Philip. He would undoubtedly say something polite, which everyone would know was a lie. But then, when he didn't immediately answer, I had to look at him. I was so surprised by what I saw that I looked twice. Philip held his mother's gaze with a hard look in his eyes. A muscle jumped in his jaw. He almost looked angry, but I couldn't fathom why her words would spark such a reaction in him. Lady Caroline's smile turned hard - almost mocking - from across the table. After a tense silence, he finally said, "Undoubtedly. ~ Julianne Donaldson

And of course that was an Amaryllis that was never going to exist, one that I could never talk to or thank. I longed for her, even though I only knew her through her words. ~ Alexander Wales

I like her. She makes life interesting. She, herself, is interesting, I suppose. She talks right from the heart. I appreciate her frankness and I like the fact that she doesn't force the natural flow of a conversation. There's personality in her words. She thus gets to the core of things and that's important because with her - I can talk knowing that the talk is real! Oh believe me, it's amazingly real! And she also gives me the opportunity to listen as fully and completely as possible. And I can't seem to get her out of my head [ ... ] ~ Virginia Woolf

If the Church is 'in Christ,' she is involved in mission. Her whole existence then has a missionary character. Her conduct as well as her words will convince the unbelievers and put their ignorance and stupidity to silence. ~ David Bosch

Lily says nothing as she heads to bed. But then she looks at me and says, 'You sound just like Ma,' before switching off the lights and plunging us into darkness. I'm left frozen by her words. I was wrong. Because as it turns out, that's the ultimate diss in our family. ~ Wai Chim

Being emotional is normal, all part of the job." Her words twirled around my mind. "These are precious new lives at their most fragile. You wouldn't be human if you didn't feel the weight on your heart."
Oh I felt the brick crushing my chest, the question was whether I was strong enough to lift it off and breathe myself.
"It's a balancing act between empathy, confidence, and trusting your skills. ~ Riley Mackenzie

She raises her hands and places them on either side of my face. My skin burns beneath her touch. 'I think you're beautiful.'
I smile, thinking she's done. But she releases my face and places her palms on my chest, directly over my heart.
'You're beautiful right here,' she says.
I close my eyes, and the breath rushes from my lungs.
'I see the good in you, Dante,' Charlie continues, her words rolling together off her tongue. 'Even if you don't, I do. You have a good heart. You know how I know?'
I open my eyes. She's looking at me like nothing else in the world exists. Like the entire planet and all of mankind just vanished. She slowly wraps my hands inside her own as best she can and places them on her chest. 'Because I feel it here.' She taps our hands against her chest. 'I know you're good, Dante. Because I feel it inside of me. ~ Victoria Scott

...after a while her mood flares. She lights her words with it and flicks them at me. ~ Anna Smaill

I should've listened to her - she told me almost nothing, but she did give me clues, and I know now that she put signs in her words and expressions that were as clear as the constellations over our heads. But I didn't listen. It's a fact of being in love that we often pay no attention whatsoever to the substance of what a lover says, while being intoxicated to ecstasy by the way it's said. I was in love with her eyes, but I didn't read them. I loved her voice, but I didn't really hear the fear and the anguish in it. ~ Gregory David Roberts

Her words came in a sudden rush. "You're hard to look away from. I can't look away from you. I don't know how anyone could. ~ Marie Rutkoski

Once again I am being held hostage for my vagina," She sighs. "What is it with you aliens? Can't a girl just make her own decisions for once? Is that so freaking hard?"
"The khui has decided," I tell her.
She gives a small shake of her head. "It's always someone else's decision. When's it going to be mine?"
I watch her, frustrated. There is no decision to be made. The khui has decided. And yet... I don't like the way her words make me feel.
Or the defeat in her voice. Liz is a fighter. I don't want her to give up. ~ Ruby Dixon

Ah, you're an Irish lass." "As are you." His smile tipped and laughter twinkled in his eyes. "Not a lass, exactly, but Irish-born, for sure." Wasn't that just like a man. Knew exactly what she meant and yet turned her words about. "You know full well I didn't mean you were a lass." "Didn't you now? ~ Sarah M. Eden

After a time Ara had to do her chores, leaving me on the porch with a fresh infusion of tea to drink, her garden to look at, and her words to consider.
Not that I got very far. There were too many questions. Like: Where did those guards go? Azmus had overcome one, but I didn't remember having seen any more. Then there were the unlocked doors. The one to my cell could be explained away, but not the outside one. If there was a conspiracy, was Azmus behind it? Or someone else--and if so, who; and more importantly, to what end?
It was just possible that those dashing aristos had contrived my escape for a game, just as a cruel cat will play with a mouse before the kill. Their well-publicized bet could certainly account for that. The wager would also serve very nicely as a warning to ordinary people not to interfere with their prey, I thought narrowly.
Which meant that if I'd left any clue to my trail, I had better move on. Soon. ~ Sherwood Smith

Her confidence is extraordinary, her impertinence unforgivable, her words terribly true. ~ Philippa Gregory

Also there was the thrill, basis indeterminable, which made Glinda shy, and caused her to rush her words, and to speak in a false high voice like an adolescent. How quickly you could be thrown back to the terrible uncertainty of your youth! For ~ Gregory Maguire

Don't you want this?" The pain in his voice ripped a hole inside her.
"I want you so damn much." Her words choked in her throat. She forced a laugh to keep from crying. "Hell, we can't seem to keep our hands off each other."
"Should we try?"

-Kathy Kulig, Red Tape ~ Kathy Kulig

Oh Christ. Her words, come inside me, had a predictable impact on his dick. Fuck and double fuck. Reason was taking a fast exit stage left while his erection was taking the vertical route. ~ C.C. Gibbs

So what's John's secret for relating to his forceful wife? He lets her know that her words were unacceptable, but he also tries to listen to their meaning. "I try to tap into my empathy," he says. "I take her tone out of the equation. I take out the assault on my senses, and I try to get to what she's trying to say. ~ Susan Cain

Yes, I think he even has a title. He's like son and heir.'

I turned her words over in my mind as I pretended to play with my phone.

Sun and hair
Son and heir
Sun and air ~ Olivia Sudjic

I should have judged her according to her actions, not her words. she perfumed my planet and lit up my life. ~ Antoine De Saint Exupery

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

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

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

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

"You never told me," he whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And tied to it," observed Kell.

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

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

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

He contemplated on her words. Life was indeed like a story written by god. You never know what destiny holds for you till you are through the entire story. ~ Subrat Mohanty

That night, I took a while falling asleep and when I did, I had a strange dream. She was sitting in my rocking chair and rocking herself, her dead eyes fixed on me. I lay on my bed, paralysed with fear, unable to move, unable to scream, my limbs refusing to move to my command. The room was suddenly freezing cold, the heater had probably stopped working in the night because the electricity supply had been cut and the inverter too had run out. At one point, I was uncertain whether I was dreaming or awake, or in that strange space between dreaming and wakefulness, where the soul wanders out of the body and explores other dimensions. What I knew was that I was chilled to the bones, chilled in a way that made it impossible for me to move myself, to lever myself to a sitting position in order to switch the bedside lamp on and check whether this was really happening. I could hear her in my head. Her voice was faint, feathery, and sibilant, as if she was whispering through a curtain of rain. Her words were indistinct, she called my name, she said words that pierced through my ears, words that meshed into ice slivers in my brain and when I thought finally that I would freeze to death an ice cold tiny body climbed into the quilt with me, putting frigidly chilly arms around me, and whispered, 'Mother, I'm cold.' Icicles shot up my spine, and I sat up, bolt upright in my bed, feeling the covers fall from me and a small indent in the mattress where something had been, a moment ago. There ~ Kiran Manral

Pain is a warning," said Anaander Mianaai. "What would happen if you removed all discomfort from your life? No," Mianaai continued, ignoring Seivarden's obvious distress at her words, "I value that moral indignation. I encourage it. ~ Ann Leckie

He leaned closer and she swallowed the rest of her words as he pressed a kiss to her lips. He lifted his head slightly and looked into her eyes. She stared back at him, stunned, her heart thudding against her breastbone. He palmed the nape of her neck, and then he was kissing her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth this time, turning her legs to jelly.
She pressed her body against his, her skin on fire, desire beating a tattoo through her veins. His tongue stroked hers gently, provocatively, and she reached out and gripped his shoulders with both hands.
After a long, long moment he drew back. "Come home with me?" he asked very quietly, his voice a low husk.
Dear God, I thought you'd never ask. ~ Sarah Mayberry

Every question that can be answered must be answered or at least engaged. Illogical thought processes must be challenged when they arise. Wrong answers must be corrected. Correct answers must be affirmed. - From the Erudite faction manifesto CHAPTER ONE TRIS I PACE IN our cell in Erudite headquarters, her words echoing in my mind: My name will be Edith Prior, and there is much I am happy to forget. ~ Anonymous

Margery," I blurted out in a passion of frustration. "I don't know what to make of you!"

Nor I you, Mary. Frankly, I cannot begin to comprehend the motives of a person who dedicates a large portion of her life to the contemplation of a God in whom she only marginally believes."

I felt stunned, as if she had struck me in the diaphragm. She looked down at me, trying to measure the effect of her words.

Mary, you believe in the power that the idea of God has on the human mind. You believe in the way human beings talk about the unknowable, reach for the unattainable, pattern their imperfect lives and offer their paltry best up to the beingless being that created the universe and powers its continuation. What you balk as it believing the evidence of your eyes, that God can reach out and touch a single human life in a concrete way." She smiled a sad, sad smile. "You mustn't be so cold, Mary. If you are, all you will see is a cold God, cold friends, cold love. God is not cold-never cold. God sears with heat, not ice, the heat of a thousand suns, heat that inflames but does not consume. You need warmth, Mary-you, Mary, need it. You fear it, you flirt with it, you imagine that you can stand in its rays and retain your cold intellectual attitude towards it. You imagine that you can love with your brain. Mary, oh my dear Mary, you sit in the hall and listen to me like some wild beast staring at a campfire, unable to leave, fearful of losing your freedom i ~ Laurie R. King

Here before you lies the memorial to St. Cefnogwr, though he is not buried here, of course." At her words, an uncanny knowing flushed through Katy and, crazy-of-crazy, transfixed her. "Why? Where is he?" Traci stepped forward, hand on her hip. A you're-right-on-cue look crossed the guide's face. She pointed to the ceiling. Traci scoffed. "I meant, where's the body?" Her American southern accent lent a strange contrast to her skepticism. Again, the tour guide's arthritic finger pointed upward, and a smile tugged at her lips, the smokers' wrinkles on her upper lip smoothing out. "That's the miracle that made him a saint, you see. Throughout the twelve hundreds, the Welsh struggled to maintain our independence from the English. During Madog's Rebellion in 1294, St. Cefnogwr, a noble Norman-English knight, turned against his liege lord and sided with the Welsh - " "Norman-English?" Katy frowned, her voice raspy in her dry throat. "Why would a Norman have a Welsh name and side with the Welsh?" She might be an American, but her years living in England had taught her that was unusual.

"The English nicknamed him. It means 'sympathizer' in Welsh. The knight was captured and, for his crime, sentenced to hang. As he swung, the rope creaking in the crowd's silence, an angel of mercy swooped down and - " She clapped her hands in one decisive smack, and everyone jumped. "The rope dangled empty, free of its burden. Proof, we say, of his noble cause. He's been venerated ever since ~ Angela Quarles

With her words, the world could spin again. It took great restraint to not unfurl my wings and fly Abby around the mountain, pronouncing to anyone with ears that she loved me. Abigail Miller loved me. ~ Ashlan Thomas

When he came, attended by all the young soldiers of any merit, he was infinitely surprised at the beauty of this fair Queen of Night, whose face and person was so exceeding all he had ever beheld; that lovely modesty with which she received him, that softness in her look, and sighs, upon the melancholy occasion of this honour that was done by so great a man as Oroonoko, and a prince of whom she had heard such admirable things; the awfulness wherewith she received him, and the sweetness of her words and behavior while he stayed, gained a perfect conquest over his fierce heart, and made him feel the victor could be subdued. ~ Aphra Behn

Yet, sluggard, wake, and gull thy soul no more With earth's false pleasures, and the world's delight, Whose fruit is fair and pleasing to the sight, But sour in taste, false as the putrid core: Thy flaring glass is gems at her half light; She makes thee seeming rich, but truly poor: She boasts a kernel, and bestows a shell; Performs an inch of her fair-promis'd ell: Her words protest a heav'n; her works produce a hell. ~ Francis Quarles

I needed somewhere that wasn't bad. I wanted to be light and happy like you, and I wanted never for you to see the dark. I was scared I would infect you with terrible feelings and pictures in my head of walking out in front of the traffic and - No. That's not for you, see? Not for you to hear. I needed you to be my sunlight, Bessi,' and here George paused and her words became very small, 'I lost mine, I lost it. ~ Diana Evans

I wanted to tell her that she was the first beautiful thing I had seen in three years. That the sight of her yawning to the back of her hand was enought to drive the breath from me. How I sometimes lost the sense of her words in the sweet fluting of her voice. I wanted to say that if she were with me then somehow nothing could ever be wrong for me again. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

Attention to her words was at such a fever pitch that Theo was visited by a delegation of three diamond sellers who begged her aid. That very evening Lady Islay appeared at a ball wearing a necklace that featured no fewer than eight strands of diamonds, caught together by an extraordinary pear-shaped diamond pendant, and casually remarked that she thought a woman should rival the Milky Way at night: *We give babies milk, but ladies? Diamonds.* ~ Eloisa James

In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot–I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation."

Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth's feelings dreadful. At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said:

And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance."

I might as well inquire," replied she, "why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you lik ~ Jane Austen

There's an old adage in writing: 'Don't tell, but show.' Writing is not psychology. We do not talk 'about' feelings. Instead the writer feels and through her words awakens those feelings in the reader. The writer takes the reader's hand and guides him through the valley of sorrow and joy without ever having to mention those words. ~ Natalie Goldberg

What else do you want to know?' he asked. Possessed by morbid curiosity, her eyes darted to the scar that cut just over his ear. She'd found it shortly after they met, while he lay unconscious in the grass. He didn't need to ask what had caught her attention. 'I got that in a fight against imperial soldiers. Ask me why.' She shook her head, unable to bring herself to do it. The cocoon of warmth that had enveloped the entire afternoon unwound itself in an instant. 'Are you having second thoughts about being here with me?' He planted a hand into the grass, edging closer. 'No. I trust you.' He was giving her all the time in the world to shove him away, to rise, to flee. Her heartbeat quickened as she watched him. Moving ever so slowly, he braced an arm on either side of her, his fingers sinking into the moss. 'I asked you to come with me.' Despite her words, she dug her heels into the ground and inched backwards. 'I feel safe with you.' 'I can see that.' He affected a lazy smile as she retreated until her back pressed against the knotted roots that crawled along the ground. His boldness was so unexpected, so exciting. She held her breath and waited. Her pulse jumped when he reached for her. She'd been imagining this moment ever since their first duel and wondering whether it would take another swordfight for him to come near her again. His fingers curled gently against the back of her neck, giving her one last chance to escape. Then he lowered his mouth and kissed her.

Jeannie Lin

Her words are sugary, and I want to reach out and snatch them so he doesn't get them. Words like that are only meant for me. ~ Alexa Riley

The beauty of her words so bright and warm !! the moon greets her when she writes in the blue night . ~ Imran Shaikh

Can't you clerk in a store?'
'No.'
'Can't you be a waitress?'
'Would you be anything like you're suggesting to me? Then why, if you're too good, is it all right for me?'
'It's not a question of superiority, Dora. Come on, be a telephone operator and get paid while you work. Or how about ushering in a theater? I have it. You'll get a job in a flower shop. They always do.'
He looked at her so sharply that she knew she must make some answer, and she began to speak as if her words came from another mind, another mouth. 'I am beyond this plane of animal existence. I'm made of different stuff. I lived all this ages ago and I'm through with it for good. ~ Margery Latimer

Keda,' she said to herself,' Keda, this is tragedy.' But as her words hung emptily in the morning air, she clenched her hands for she could feel no anguish and the bright bird that had filled her breast was still singing ... was still singing. ~ Mervyn Peake

When they stopped to pick up Mike, Violet started to get out so she could climb in back with Chelsea, giving Mike's longer legs the front seat, but Jay reached out and caught her wrist.
"What are you doing? I want you to sit with me." His fingers moved to lace through hers as he drew her back inside. "Mike can sit in back."
Violet felt herself blush with satisfaction.
Mike came out of his house and jumped down the porch without ever touching the steps. Behind the darkened curtains, the television flickered.
"Here he comes!" Chelsea squealed, sounding like a little girl as she bounced up and down in the backseat, shaking the entire car. She clapped her hands with excitement.
Violet pulled her seat as far forward as she could to give Mike some extra room. He'd need it if he was going to be confined back there with Chelsea.
"Heeyyy, Mike." Chelsea managed to drawl the two words into several long syllables as Mike slid into the car. The syrupiness of it sounded so foreign oozing from Chelsea's mouth.
"Hey," Mike said back to her. One word, one syllable.
"So I guess it's just the four of us tonight," she purred.
"Really? I thought we were meeting a buncha people."
"Nope. Just us. Everyone else bailed."
Violet smiled to herself as she listened to Chelsea's account, amazed that her words came out sounding so…sincere.
But Violet knew better. And she realized from the look Jay flashed her that he knew too.
Mike, on the o ~ Kimberly Derting

So what? You act all mysterious to seem more interesting?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're always wandering off or running away," he said. "But you're a lot more
interesting when you're just being yourself you know. When you're actually here."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Emma said coldly. "Where else would I be?"

"You know what I mean," he said, a rough edge to his voice. "It's like you're so busy trying not to act like your family that you've never even stopped to consider that it might not be such a bad thing."

"Well what about you?" she shot back, aware of the bitterness in her words.
"You complain about your dad not wanting you around, and then you complain when he wants you to stay home for school. You can't have it both wars."

"Well neither can you," he said. " You can't keep everyone at arms length and then expect them to be there for you when you need them. ~ Jennifer E. Smith

My mum was a wonderful mother. She died, aged 80, of Alzheimer's disease, which was dreadful to watch. I remember she said to me: 'Believe in yourself because no one else is going to do it for you.' I'm sure a lot of my success is due to her words of advice. ~ Bonnie Tyler

Her words echoed in his head and a faint hope kindled and grew into a timid blaze. Whosoever. Anyone can be forgiven by God. ~ Victoria Lynn

My mother showed me that when tin or zinc was bent it uttered a special 'cry'. 'It's due to deformation of the crystal structure,' she said, forgetting that I was five, and could not understand her - and yet her words fascinated me, made me want to know more. ~ Oliver Sacks

*I treat my poor heart like a sick child, and gratify its every fancy
* The human race is but a monotonous affair
*and O Wilhelm, I vowed at that moment, that a maiden whom I loved, or for whom I felt the slightest attachment, never, never should waltz with any one else but with me, if I went to perdition for it! - you will understand this.
*I felt as though a dagger went through my heart.
* I gazed upon her rich dark eyes during these remarks, how my very soul gloated over her warm lips and fresh, glowing cheeks, how I became quite lost in the delightful meaning of her words, so much so, that I scarcely heard the actual expressions
*"As long as I see those eyes open, there is no fear of my falling asleep."
* I left her asking permission to visit her in the course of the day. She consented, and I went, and, since that time, sun, moon, and stars may pursue their course: I know not whether it is day or night; the whole world is nothing to me.
*We should deal with children as God deals with us, we are happiest under the influence of innocent delusions ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

I do not think I wish you smashing my pie with your truncheon." Adrian stilled and blinked. There was that truncheon word again and he had no idea what she was talking about. Smashing her pie with his truncheon? That did not even make sense. "I fear I have no idea what you are talking about, wife." Clarissa gave a little jerk at the last word, then said, "I mean, I do not want you breaking my veil with your key." Rather than helping him understand, her words simply confused him further. "What?" "My lock is too small for your truncheon." "Are you speaking in tongues?" Adrian asked. "Clarissa, I have no idea what - ~ Lynsay Sands

Another tidbit you might be interested in is when it comes to chicks and open mouths, guys -" Decebel leaned over and covered Jen's mouth with his hand and warned her with a glare to swallow her words.
"Thanks, Dec. That's usually my job,"
Sally told him. "But I was in such shock that I couldn't get my limbs to move."
Decebel inclined his head. "Is that why you always seem to stand so close to her?"
"It's of utmost importance that whoever is within her reach be ready at any and all moments to intercept what might come from that wicked tongue."
en was frantically trying to talk around Decebel's hand at Sally's comment. Decebel was quickly learning how Jennifer's brain worked, and could only imagine what she wanted to voice in regards to Sally's wicked tongue comment. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "I'm going to uncover your mouth. It would be wise of you to just let the wicked tongue comment slide."
Jen glared at him from the corner of her eye, and after a tense moment finally nodded once in submission. Decebel slowly uncovered her mouth, ready if need be to slap it right back over her lips.
The room began to get quiet and they all directed their attention to the front of the room. As Vasile welcomed everyone for coming and began to explain about the meeting he had with the other Alphas, Jen leaned over to Decebel. "You owe me. Sally walked right into it with that whole wicked tongue thing."
Decebel chuckled and whispered back, ~ Quinn Loftis

My mother had a premonition from the very word 'GO.' She knew there was something to be afraid of and the only thing that she felt strongly about was that to say a ship was unsinkable was flying in the face of God. Those were her words. ~ Eva Hart

her legs and lifted. "Well, for starters, I thought we could take that bath you were talking about." "And then?" "We'll see where the night takes us." "As long as it takes us someplace together, I'm fine with an adventure," Ivy offered. "We might want to grab the pie first, though. I've never eaten pie in a bathtub and that somehow sounds magical to me." "I love the way your mind works." "You just want the pie." "I just want you and the pie. I'm a simple man." "And yet you complicate everything in my life and make it so much better." Jack's heart warmed at her words. "Right back at you, honey. Now grab that pie. It's time for a Thanksgiving treat. I have a feeling this is going to be one for the record books." "That makes two of us. ~ Lily Harper Hart

Rage filled me at her words - cold, black, unending rage. Whatever happened to me, Mab would not hurt my sister again. She would not. ~ Jennifer Estep

I turned to discover the faint smile of the bookseller's
niece. Her voice was pure crystal, transparent and so fragile I feared that her words would break if I interrupted them. ~ Carlos Ruiz Zafon

In our weeks of talk, movies and friendship, I watched as Wilma turned a medical ordeal into one more event in her life, but not its definition. I believe she was teaching me an intimate form of The Way. In her words: Every day is a good day - because we are part of everything alive. ~ Gloria Steinem

Don't start telling yourself stories about me, Esta. I'm not some knight in shining armor. I don't have some hidden heart of gold. I'm a bastard, in every sense of the word."
"Who said I want you to be anything but what you are? I like your angles and your edges," she told him, hoping he could hear the truth in her words. "I have plenty of my own, you know. ~ Lisa Maxwell

How simple and natural were her words, and how likely that she was simply sleepy! She felt herself clad in an impenetrable armor of falsehood. She felt that some unseen force had come to her aid and was supporting her. ~ Leo Tolstoy

I thought about how people tended to congregate in homogeneous groups, avoiding and often fearing outsiders. This was the root of prejudice and group hatreds. "We also must learn not to just go to those people whose vibrations are the same as ours." To help these other people. I could feel the spiritual truths in her words. ~ Brian L. Weiss

She's always polite and kind, but her words lack the kind of curiosity and excitement you'd normally expect. Her true feelings- assuming such things exist- remain hidden away. Except for when a practical sort of decision has to be made, she never gives her personal opinion about anything. She seldom talks about herself, instead letting others talk, nodding warmly as she listens. But most people start to feel vaguely uneasy when talking with her, as if they suspect they're wasting her time, trampling on her private, graceful, dignified world. And that impression is, for the most part, correct. ~ Haruki Murakami

They had been talking about his friend Z. when she announced, "If I hadn't met you, I'd certainly have fallen in love with him."
Even then, her words had left Tomas in a strange state of melancholy, and now he realized it was only a matter of chance that Tereza loved him and not his friend Z. Apart from her consummated love for Tomas, there were, in the realm of pos­sibility, an infinite number of unconsummated loves for other men.
We all reject out of hand the idea that the love of our life may be something light or weightless; we presume our love is what must be, that without it our life would no longer be the same; we feel that Beethoven himself, gloomy and awe-inspir­ing, is playing the "Es muss sein!" to our own great love.
Tomas often thought of Tereza's remark about his friend Z. and came to the conclusion that the love story of his life exemplified not "Es muss sein!" (It must be so), but rather "Es konnte auch anders sein" (It could just as well be otherwise). ~ Milan Kundera

Yeah, seeing her unsettled him, but it was her words that nearly took him apart. Because sometime after his heart started beating again, after he'd grabbed ahold of his emotions, she'd become the woman that, once upon a time, he'd fallen in love with. ~ Susan May Warren

I want you to know, chickens aren't sexy. Not to me."
This was met with silence.
"Are you there?" She was slurring her words now, which was embarrassing, so she took a deep breath. "Cam? Can you hear me?"
"Yes, chickens aren't sexy. Uh ... I don't think they're meant to be. ~ Jill Shalvis

Especially when the October wind
With frosty fingers punishes my hair,
Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire
And cast a shadow crab upon the land,
By the sea's side, hearing the noise of birds,
Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks,
My busy heart who shudders as she talks
Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words. ~ Dylan Thomas

She described people, scenes, and objects she had never seen with the detail and precision of a Flemish master. Her words evoked textures and echoes, the color of voices, the rhythm of footsteps. ~ Carlos Ruiz Zafon

The effects of her words stung me, and after she stole away I stood a long while before her looking glass, studying my profile, the line I cut in this world of men and ladies. ~ Patrick DeWitt

Tristan followed so close behind her she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck. Again.
"Ten foot rule," called Nate.
"Bite me!" Tristan hollered back, more hot breath caressing her skin with his words. A wonderful shiver ran through her body. Damn him and his beautiful mouth and hot breath and his leather-smelling shirt. She assumed he was headed to his own room in the basement, but when she walked into the guest bedroom, he followed her inside. She turned around to tell him to leave her alone, but his bright green eyes derailed her words. He was so pretty…
No! No. He was not pretty. He was in danger of dying. Focus on the danger, Scarlet. She glared at him. "What are you doing?"
"I'm sleeping with you."
Was he insane? She lifted a brow. "I thought you were mad at me."
"I'm concerned. Not mad."
"Huh. Well either way you're not sleeping with me."
"Yes, I am."
He was insane. "No," Scarlet repeated. "You're not. You could die, Tristan. We can't touch and we certainly can't…sleep together." She felt her face flush.
A look of amusement crossed his face. "I meant sleep, Scar."
"Oh. Well." She cleared her throat. "I don't want to wake up next to a corpse, so, like…scram. ~ Chelsea Fine

We had one gun, one werewolf, one poltergeist, one supercharged spell-caster, one not-so-supercharged spell-caster, and one perfectly useless necromancer, though Liz was quick to remind me that she needed me to relay her words. - Chloe ~ Kelley Armstrong

Upturned face.
Parted lips.
The good-night kiss he couldn't leave without.
Only, Megan's lips were stiff and unyielding. She didn't pull away. It might almost have been better if she had. Instead, she'd allowed the kiss to occur, taking it with the same cool detachment offered in her words. ~ Mira Lyn Kelly

defiant, and her words have rough, girlish hope. The ~ Kathleen Glasgow

He sucked in a harsh breath and was silent a long while, relishing her words. "Ah, Gwen, my lovely wee Gwen, I thought I might ne'er hear such words." He lifted her hair away from her face and kissed her temple tenderly. "I love you. I adore you. I will cherish you all the days of my life," he vowed. "I knew even back in your century that you were the one for me, the one I'd longed for all my life. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Is kissing me so bad, then, lass?"
"It's not the kissing that's bad ... " Her words were lost in a soft moan as she tipped her head back for more kisses.
"What's bad, my heart?" Hawk nipped her neck, gently.
"Oooh! ... you!"
"Me? I'm bad?" He wouldn't let her answer for a long moment while he nibbled at her lower lip, teased it, sucked it into his mouth, then slowly released it.
Adrienne drew a shaky breath. "Well ... I mean ... you are a man ... "
"Yes," he encouraged.
"And very beautiful at that ... ."
"Mmm ... yes?"
"And I hate beautiful men ... ." Her hands moved over his shoulders, his broad muscled back, and tapered down over his tight waist to his muscular buttocks. She was shocked at her own daring, thrilled by the groan of pleasure she coaxed from him.
"I can tell. Hate me just like that, lass. Hate me like that again. Hate me all you need to hate me. ~ Karen Marie Moning

You need to give me a break. I'm an eighteen-year-old girl, and you're my first boyfriend . . . and you just happen to be stupidly hot. So what if I get petty and jealous?" She shrugged. "I'm allowed. I bet if a guy looked at me like that, you'd probably feel the same."
I let her words sink in before speaking. "A, if a guy looked at you in any way, I'd probably beat his ass. B, I didn't know I was your boyfriend."
Her eyes went wide. "I just assumed - "
"Good," I interrupted. "Assume away, girlfriend. ~ Jay McLean

Of course no one accused the old woman of being a witch. But she was foreign. Her words percolated up the tunnel of her throat , espresso-thick and strong. Bad weather had eroded her face. Some believed that the sun had crisped her skin into coriaceous pleats. Others blamed the chaw of a wintry climate. No one knew where she came from, though lots of people privately thought that perhaps she ought to go back. ~ Carys Bray

Each of her words was the skip of a stone across a lake, forming ripples of emotion. The Queen of Inys could not cast illusions, but her voice and bearing on this night had turned her into an enchantress. ~ Samantha Shannon

Silence has its own language and in that silence he found words within himself; words for her, words for him and words for them. ~ Faraaz Kazi

Her words at the party replayed in my mind.
If we were in another life, I could love you.
Abby was lying weak and sick in my arms, depending on me to take care of her. In
that moment I recognized that my feelings for her were a lot stronger than I thought. Sometime between
the moment we met, and holding her on that bathroom floor, I had fallen in love with her. ~ Jamie McGuire

And for most of that time, wisdom has had to work in secret, whispering her words, moving like a spy through the humble places of the world while the courts and palaces are occupied by her enemies. ~ Philip Pullman

You read a lot?" Galina finally asked.
"Yes. It's an escape into another world." She tried to keep her words light instead of sad, thoughts of her family in her head. "Sometimes that is the best part of a hard day. ~ Anne Mallory

Kuwait will continue to be the final goal, her words will keep being the standing point.. Who works for her, nurtures her rights, protects her , and puts her before himself, will be in God's highest ranks. ~ Jaber Al-Ahmad Al-Sabah

You can't tell me what to do anymore, Travis! I don't belong to you!"
Her words ignited a deep anger inside me. I stomped to the bed, planted my hands on the mattress on each side of her thighs, and leaned into her face.
"Well, I belong to you!" I screamed. I put so much force behind my words, I could feel all the blood rush to my face. Abby met my glare, refusing to even flinch. I looked at her lips, panting. "I belong you," I whispered, my anger fading as desire took over. ~ Jamie McGuire

What did he do?" he murmured.
"He said something about if his words didn't put me in my place, he would find something that would. And then he slapped me."
Bram abruptly regretted not making use of the knife he'd carried in his boot to the Hampton soiree. He could understand Cosgrove desiring her and wanting to control her. But to strike her... Bram was accustomed to being angry; he'd spent most of the past ten years in varying states of it. What he felt as he listened to Rosamund, though, to the shake of her words and the despair in her voice, was deeper and hotter than anything he'd ever experienced. Plainly and simply, it was fury. White-hot, blood-boiling fury.
"Hope that he enjoyed hitting you, Rosamund," he said in a low voice, "because he will never touch you again. ~ Suzanne Enoch

She gives just enough hints about him to make you wonder why he became so villainous. And if he dies, I'll never learnt the answer."
Oliver eyes her closely. "Perhaps he was born villainous."
"No one is born villainous."
"Oh?" he said with raised eyebrow. "So we're all born good?"
"Neither. We start as animals, with an animal's needs and desires. It takes parents and teachers and other good examples to show us how to restrain those needs and desires, when necessary, for the greater good. But it's still our choice whether to heed that education or to do as we please."
"For a woman who loves murder and mayhem, you're quite the philosopher."
"I like to understand how things work. Why people behave as they do."
He digested that for a moment. "I happen to think that some of us, like Rockton, are born with a wicked bent."
She chose her words carefully. "That certainly provides Rockton with a convenient excuse for his behavior."
His features turned stony. "What do you mean?"
"Being moral and disciplined is hard work. Being wicked requires no effort at all-one merely indulges every desire and impulse, no matter how hurtful or immoral. By claiming to be born wicked, Rockton ensures that he doesn't have to struggle to be god. He can just protest that he can't help himself."
"Perhaps he can't," he clipped out.
"Or maybe he's simply unwilling to fight his impulses. And I want to know the reason for that. That's why I keep readin ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Do you know why you wanted to make me angry?" He spoke directly against her parted, panting lips. "Because you know it makes me hard. You know it makes me hot to fuck." He tilted his hips and pushed against her, demonstrating the effect of her words. "That means you're hot to get fucked. Good. Too bad you're about to get much more than you bargained for, hustler. Turn around. ~ Tessa Bailey

As long as you want me with you."
"I want me with you," she said at once. She heard the mix-up of her words - me with you - but didn't correct herself. It was exactly what she meant. ~ Laini Taylor

I want to do what you dreamed about."
Her words stop me short. I raise my head to meet her gaze. "How much of it?"
"All of it. I want everything that you want. More than anything, I want to be everything you've ever dreamed of having in a wife and lover."
I'm stunned and humbled to have somehow won the love of this amazing woman. "Christ, Nat, you already are."
"Not quite yet, but I will be. Will you teach me how to be everything you want and need?"
I'm so overwhelmed by gratitude, I can barely speak. "Yes, sweetheart, I'll teach you. ~ M.S. Force