If You Was Mine Quotes

[Feeney] "Nearly blew ourselves up about an hour ago, right, Roarke?"
Roarke rose and tucked his hands in his pockets. "I never doubted you for an instant Captain."
"Like hell." In tune with his man, Feeney grinned. "If you weren't saying your prayers, boyo, I was saying mine. Still, I can't think of many others I'd be pleased to be blown to hell with."
"The feeling's nearly mutual."
"If you two have finished your little male bonding dance, would you care to explain what the hell I'm supposed to be looking at here?" [Eve] ~ J.D. Robb

Listen," he says. "I know earlier I said just a day, but that was…I wasn't being completely honest. And I know if I let you get in your car and drive away again without telling you the truth, I'll regret it all the way home."
He drops his eyes to the ground for a moment, then brings them back up to mine. "Anyway. I promise I won't surprise you at your door again, but if you ever decide you want another day–ever–I have lots of them, and I …I liked this one. ~ Jessi Kirby

Books have always been my escape - where I go to bury my nose, hone my senses, or play the emotional tourist in a world of my own choosing... Words are my best expressive tool, my favorite shield, my point of entry...When I was growing up, books took me away from my life to a solitary place that didn't feel lonely. They celebrated the outcasts, people who sat on the margins of society contemplating their interiors. . . Books were my cure for a romanticized unhappiness, for the anxiety of impending adulthood. They were all mine, private islands with secret passwords only the worthy could utter. If I could choose my favorite day, my favorite moment in some perfect dreamscape, I know exactly where I would be: stretched out in bed in the afternoon, knowing that the kids are taking a nap and I've got two more chapters left of some heartbreaking novel, the kind that messes you up for a week. ~ Jodie Foster

I'm here, Sorcha.
I would not believe it at first; it had been so long since he had touched my mind in this way.
I'm here. Try to let go, dear one. I know how it hurts. Lean on me; let me take your burden for a while.
I could scarcely see him; he was on the far side of the fire, behind the others and half turned away, with his head still in his hands. It seemed as if he had scarcely moved at all.
How can you? How can you know?
I know. Let me help you.
I felt the strength of his mind flow into mine, and somehow he managed to close off the terrible, the dark and secret things that he had dreaded sharing with me, and fill my head with pictures of all that was good and brave. ~ Juliet Marillier

If you're going to have a heart attack, mine was the kind to have. I'm thankful that it hasn't affected my output or my capacity to perform. And it has given me a lot to think and write about. ~ Peter Hammill

Karlheinz Stockhausen to journalist: "I heard the piece Aphex Twin of Richard James carefully: I think it would be very helpful if he listens to my work "Song of the Youth," which is electronic music, and a young boy's voice singing with himself. Because he would then immediately stop with all these post-African repetitions, and he would look for changing tempi and changing rhythms, and he would not allow to repeat any rhythm if it [was] varied to some extent and if it did not have a direction in its sequence of variations."

Aphex Twin to journalist: "I thought he should listen to a couple of tracks of mine: 'Didgeridoo,' then he'd stop making abstract, random patterns you can't dance to". ~ Karlheinz Stockhausen

His hands tightened around mine. "I love you," he said. "I love you more than any other creature, because you are cruel, and kind, and alive. Nyx Triskelion, will you be my wife?"
I knew it was insane to be happy, to feel this desperate exultation at his words. But I felt like I had been waiting all my life to hear them. I had been waiting, all my life, for someone undeceived to love me. And now he did, and it felt like walking into the dazzling sunlight of the Heart of Earth.
Except that the sunlight was false, and his love was real.
It was real.
Very deliberately, I pulled my hands out of his. "You're a demon," I said, staring at the ground.
"Most likely."
"I know what you've done."
"The exciting parts, anyway."
"And I still don't know your name." My hands trembled as I undid my belt, then started to unclasp the brooches. It seemed forever since that first day when I had ripped my bodice open so
easily. "But I know you're my husband."
The dress slid down to land on the ground about my feet. Ignifex touched my cheek very gently, as if I was a bird that might be startled into flight. Finally I met his eyes.
"And," I said. "I suppose I do love you."
Then he pulled me into his arms. ~ Rosamund Hodge

When you attempt a memoir, I am told, you need to be in an orphan state. So what is missing in you, and the things you have grown cautious and hesitant about, will come almost casually towards you. 'A memoir is the lost inheritance,' you realize, so that during this time you must learn how and where to look. In the resulting self-portrait everything will rhyme, because everything has been reflected. If a gesture was flung away in the past, you now see it in the possession of another. So I believed something in my mother must rhyme in me. She in her small hall of mirrors and I in mine. ~ Michael Ondaatje

Cal cares about you. And he's a really good guy. And even though I want to hate him for being betrothed to you…" He gave a helpless shrug. "I can't. Which must mean he's extra-special dreamy."
"Stop it," I said, jerking our joined hands. "Cal's my friend. That's it. You're the guy I-"
Love, I wanted to say. But the word froze on my tongue, and I ended up just saying, "Want. Chose. Whatever."
He held my gaze, and his dark eyes were as serious as I'd ever seen them. "Maybe I shouldn't be."
Shocked, I leaned away from him. "What does that mean?"
"It's just…If you were with him, you'd be happier. Better off."
Okay, now I was getting angry. "That's really not for you to decide. And if you feel that way, maybe you should just go ahead and give me the 'It's Not You, It's Me' speech right now."
To my surprise, Archer smiled. "That's the thing, though," he said. "I can't. I could stand it if you left me, but I don't think there's any way I could leave you."
I blinked at him. "You are so screwed up."
"That's what I've been trying to tell you."
Wrapping my hand around the back of his neck, I pulled his face to mine. "I happen to like screwed up," I whispered, our lips nearly touching. "So don't ever say crap like that again, okay?"
I could tell there was more he wanted to say. Instead he just sighed. "Okay."
"Well, this is a lovely moment."
I whipped my head around. Lara stood just inside the room, smiling beautifically at ~ Rachel Hawkins

LADY CROOM: ....My lake is drained to a ditch for no purpose I can understand, unless it be that snipe and curlew have deserted three counties so that they may be shot in our swamp. What you painted as forest is a mean plantation, your greenery is mud, your waterfall is wet mud, and your mount is an opencast mine for the mud that was lacking in the dell. (Pointing through the window) What is that cowshed?

NOAKES: The hermitage, my lady?

LADY CROOM: It is a cowshed.

NOAKES: It is, I assure you, a very habitable cottage, properly founded and drained, two rooms and a closet under a slate roof and a stone chimney --

LADY CROOM: And who is to live in it?

NOAKES: Why, the hermit.

LADY CROOM: Where is he?

NOAKES: Madam?

LADY CROOM: You surely do not supply an hermitage without a hermit?

NOAKES: Indeed, madam --

LADY CROOM: Come, come, Mr Noakes. If I am promised a fountain I expect it to come with water. What hermits do you have?

NOAKES: I have no hermits, my lady.

LADY CROOM: Not one? I am speechless.

NOAKES: I am sure a hermit can be found. One could advertise.

LADY CROOM: Advertise?

NOAKES: In the newspapers.

LADY CROOM: But surely a hermit who takes a newspaper is not a hermit in whom one can have complete confidence. ~ Tom Stoppard

Imagine the moment when you realise that the little girl you have known all her life is actually your own daughter. What do you say? There's nothing to prepare you for that. I'd known Aimee since she was four months old. She was always in my house. In fact, usually I was the only person with her. The clues were all there.

But I never joined up the dots. I always came up with a justification for it. There was always some logical reason why I was in charge of a friend's little girl - even though I'd never actually met that friend.

Looking back, it was obvious. Something, in my own mind was preventing me from making the link. The brain's a funny thing. It's also very clever and mine was protecting me. Because if I ever accepted that Aimee was my baby, then I had to accept other things - things you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. ~ Kim Noble

If shame had a face I think it
would kind of look like mine
If it had a home would it be my eyes
Would you believe me if I said I'm tired of this
Well here we go now one more time

I tried to climb your steps
I tried to chase you down
I tried to see how low I could get it down to the ground
I tried to earn my way
I tried to tame this mind
You better believe that I tried to beat this

[CHORUS]
So when will this end it goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around I know that it won't stop
Till I step down from this for good

I never thought I'd end up here
Never thought I'd be standing where I am
I guess I kinda thought it would be easier than this
I guess I was wrong now one more time

I tried to climb your steps
I tried to chase you down
I tried to see how long I could get it down to the ground
I tried to earn my way
I tried to tame this mind
You better believe that I tried yo beat this

[REPEAT CHORUS]
Sick cycle carousel
This is a sick sycle, yeah
Sick cycle carousel
This is a sick cycle, yeah

[REPEAT CHORUS TWICE]
Sick cycle carousel
Sick cycle carousel
Sick cycle carousel... ~ Lifehouse

I sat up then, looking at him appraisingly, knowing that was the moment I could stop everything if I wanted to. "Maybe you should go," I whispered, as I ran my hand through his hair slowly.
"Maybe I should stay," he said, bringing his lips to mine again. ~ Monica Alexander

An old story is told about Rabia of Basra, an eighth-century Sufi mystic who was seen running through the streets of her city one day carrying a torch in one hand and a bucket of water in the other. When someone asked her what she was doing, she said she wanted to burn down the rewards of paradise with the torch and put out the fires of hell with the water, because both blocked the way to God, 'O, Allah,' Rabia prayed, 'if I worship You for fear of Hell, burn me in Hell, and if I worship You in hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise. But if I worship You for Your Own sake, grudge me not Your everlasting Beauty.'

In Christian tradition this comes under the heading of unconditional love, though it is usually understood as the kind of love God exercises toward humans instead of the other way around. Now, thanks to a Muslim mystic from Iraq, I have a new way of understanding what it means to love God unconditionally. Whenever I am tempted to act from fear of divine punishment or hope of divine reward, Rabia leans over from here religion into mine and empties a bucket of water on my head. ~ Barbara Brown Taylor

I want to make it clear before we begin that I think your purpose is to learn and mine is to help you to learn, or to make you learn, though I doubt either of you has to be made. I have very little interest in writing out progress reports on you, or sticking to form charts, or anything else that interferes with our basic purposes. If there is anything you want to learn and have the necessary background to handle, I'll be ready to help you whether or not it is something that formally falls among the things I'm supposed to teach you. If you don't have the background, I'll help you get it. In return, I want you to do something for me. It's been many years since I was last a tutor, so I expect you to point out to me when I fail to observe some ritual that Mr. Quince holds essential. Fair enough? ~ Alexei Panshin

You keeping me alive tonight?"
He'd opened and was out the door but he turns, his eyes locking on mine.
"Even if I die doin' it. ~ Kristen Ashley

I reached up to touch his mask. It was so cold, despite how flushed his skin was just beyond it. My hand shook, and my breathing became shallow as I grazed the skin of his jaw. It was smooth - and hot.
He wet his lips, his breathing as uneven as my own. His fingers contracted against the plane of my lower back, and I let him tug me closer to him - until our bodies were touching, and the warmth of him seeped into me.
I had to tilt my head back to see his face. His mouth was caught somewhere between a smile and a wince.
"What?" I asked, and put a hand on his chest, preparing to shove myself back. But his other hand slipped under my hair, resting at the base of my neck.
"I'm thinking I might kiss you," he said quietly, intently.
"Then do it." I blushed at my own boldness.
But Tamlin only gave that breathy laugh, and leaned in.
His lips brushed mine - testing, soft and warm. He pulled back a little. He was still staring at me, and I stared right back as he kissed me again, harder, but nothing like the way he'd kissed my neck. He withdrew more fully this time and watched me.
"That's it?" I demanded, and he laughed and kissed me fiercely.
My hands went around his neck, pulling him closer, crushing myself against him. His hands roved my back, playing in my hair, grasping my waist, as if he couldn't touch enough of me at once. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Roses are red, and they say love's not made to last,

But I know I'll never get enough of that sweet, sweet ass.

All that jelly in your jeans, all that junk in your trunk,

I just gotta have it - one look and I was sunk.

If you ever wonder why I had to make you mine,

It's 'cause no other lady has a tush so fine.

They say you're not a looker, but I don't mind.

What I'm looking at is the view from behind.

Never been romantic, don't know what love means,

But I know I dig the way you're wearing those jeans.

Hate to see you leave but love to watch you go.

Turn back, then leave again - baby do it slow.

I'm coming right after, gonna make a pass,

Can't get enough of that sweet, sweet ass. ~ Cassandra Clare

You think I ever expected to find a woman with so many of the things I wanted in a relationship? Your sexual nature, your spiritual outlook, your beauty, inside and out. And some things I didn't even realize I wanted until I started taking your class. Every week was the opportunity to learn something new about you, to see if it fit the mold. But most weeks what I learned broke it, and created an even better one."
"Your going to take my breath away."
"That's all right. You can have mine." ~Jon Forte to Rachael Madison ~ Joey W. Hill

Pretty speech," he said.
"It's the only one I've got."
"I know what's really going on here. You're scared to step into my world. Afraid you can't hack it. Much better to hide here and be a big fish in a very small pond."
"If that's the way you see it, fine." I raised my chin. "I have nothing to prove to you, Rogan."
"But now I have something to prove to you," he said. "I promise you, I will win, and by the time I'm done, you won't walk, you'll run to jump into my bed."
"Don't hold your breath," I told him.
All of his civilized veneer was gone now. The dragon faced me, teeth bared, claws out, breathing fire. "You won't just sleep with me. You'll be obsessed with me. You'll beg me to touch you, and when that moment comes, we will revisit what happened here today."
"Never in a million years." I pointed at the doorway. "Exit is that - "
He grabbed me. His mouth closed on mine. His big body caged me in. His chest mashed my breasts. His arms pulled me to him, one across my back, the other cupping my butt. His magic washed over me in an exhilarating rush. My body surrendered. My muscles turned warm and pliant. My nipples tightened, my breasts ready to be squeezed, ready for his fingers and his mouth. An eager ache flared between my legs. My tongue licked his. God, I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.
He let me go, turned on his toes, and went out, laughing under his breath.
Aaargh! "That's right! Keep . . . walking!"
I threw t ~ Ilona Andrews

And," I continued, "I'm probably going to be a bitch most of the time. I guarantee I'll find a reason to yell at you almost every day, and don't be surprised if a few drinks get dumped on you from time to time. That's just me, and you're going to have to deal with it. Because I'm not changing for you or anyone else. And I-"
Wesley slid off his bar stool and pressed his lips against mine before the words could get out. My heart pounded as every thought vacated my mind. One of his arms encircled my waist, pulling me as close to him as possible, and his free hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. He kissed me so passionately I thought we would catch on fire.
It wasn't until after he pulled away, both of us in need of some air, that I could think straight again.
"You jerk!" I yelled, pushing him away from me. "Kissing me to make me shut up? God, you're so obnoxious. I could just throw something at you right now."
Wesley hopped onto his bar stool with a big grin, and I suddenly remembered him telling me that I was sexy when I was mad at him. Go figure. "Excuse me, Joe," he called to the bartender. "I think Bianca wants a Cherry Coke."
Despite my best efforts, I smiled. He wasn't perfect, or even remotely close, for that matter, but, hey, neither was I. We were both pretty fucked up. Somehow, though, that made everything more exciting. Yeah, it was sick and twisted, but that's reality, right? Escape is impossible, so why not embrace it?
W ~ Kody Keplinger

What If I still want to go?" "Then you'll go," he said. "But I wanted you to know the danger." "There's always danger." His green eyes met mine. I was starting to see It, how It could happen-Caleb and me. ~ Anna Carey

Yep. A box of dicks, if you will. Actually, that's how I got fired."
"What do you mean?"
"I screwed up and had my prototypes sent to my office. The boxes got piled up outside my cube, and a coworker of mine decided she had to know what was in them, so she opened one. Apparently she wasn't used to being wrist-deep in dicks because she freaked and dropped one on the floor, which of course turned on and vibrated its way just far enough into the hall for a senior VP to trip on. He landed face-first on the floor, broke a wrist and chipped a tooth, and I had to explain that my dick was the culprit. ~ Meghan March

I couldn't breathe. I wanted him to keep touching me; I wanted to feel his whole body against mine again. But Rylan was here. Rylan was listening. Rylan, who had cared for me all along.
"Thank you," I said, my voice unsteady, and somehow I made myself move and turn away from his touch to stare at the tent again, my heart hammering. Rylan's back was still turned to me, but I could see how stiff he was, as if every muscle in his body was clenched.
"I hope you are able to rest well Alex," Damien said.
"You too," I said, making myself close my eyes, to pretend I was going to sleep. But inside, I thought, Rest well? Is he serious?
It was going to be a long night. ~ Sara B. Larson

It was a little like stealing. It was exactly like stealing. It was, in fact, stealing. But there was no law against it because no one knew the crime existed, so is it really stealing if what's stolen isn't missed? And is it stealing if you're stealing from thieves? Anyway, all property is theft, except mine. ~ Terry Pratchett

I don't want any misunderstandings between us. I can't make any promises."
"Ah. Commitment issues."
"Something like that."
She considered briefly and then nodded once. "Okay."
"Okay? That's all you can say?"
"I'm good with your issues if you're good with mine."
"Your issues don't begin to compare to mine," he warned.
"Now we're comparing issues?"
"You think running background checks on the guys you date constitutes a serious issue?"
She frowned. "Of course not. Paying someone to run background checks on my dates is just common sense. My issues are a lot more personal. I do not intend to discuss them with a man who isn't interested in having a relationship with me. Good night, Jack. Again."
"Wait. You're saying you're okay with my commitment issues?"
"Right. Now, if you're done with this conversation - "
"We're not having a conversation, we're conducting a damn negotiation."
She raised her brows. "Is that right?"
"Just to be clear - you'd be okay with a relationship based on the understanding that I've got a lousy track record in the relationship department?"
"I'll put my lousy track record up against yours anytime." She folded her arms. "However, I do insist on monogamy on both sides while we are involved in this uncommitted relationship."
Her voice was as tight as that of a gambler who was doubling down on a desperate bet.
"Agreed," he said. He did not want to think about her with another ma ~ Jayne Ann Krentz

My face grew hot. "We were discussing the investigation," I told him quickly. "He was here a quarter of an hour at the most."
Father smiled at me sadly. "My dear girl, if you din't know what mischief can be gotten up to in a quarter of an hour you are no child of mine. ~ Deanna Raybourn

Number two was Hugh, who had suggested to his father that he would like to go into the church. His father had said, "Only if it's the Church of Om, but none of the others. I'm not having no son of mine fooling around with cultic activities!" Om was handily silent, thereby enabling his priests to interpret his wishes how they chose. Amazingly, Om's wishes rarely translated into instructions like "Feed the poor" or "Help the elderly" but more along the lines of "You need a splendid residence" or "Why not have seven courses for dinner?" So Lord Swivel felt that a clergyman in the family could in fact be useful. ~ Terry Pratchett

Mine mine mine. That was the curse and power of human beings - that what they saw and loved they had to have. They could share it with other people but only if they conceived of those people as being somehow their own. What we own is ours. What you own should also be ours. In fact, you own nothing, if we want it. Because you are nothing. We are the real people, you are only posing as people in order to try to deprive us of what God means us to have. ~ Orson Scott Card

I was already planning to return home because it's getting harder and harder to hide my morning sickness.If there were another option,guess what? I'd take it just to spite you! But marriage to the most unfaithful skirt-chaser in London isn't an option, and you've already had my answer. It's not going to happen."
"It will," he insisted.
"Ha!"
"You don't think so? Then I guess you won't mind when your pregnancy is announced in the newspapers."
She sucked in her breath, livid with rage. "Why would you do that?"
"Because you've finally inserted some doubt in my mind,and as long as there's even a speck of it,let me assure you, I will be damned before I allow any child of mine to go to strangers."
"Why don't you just be damned! ~ Johanna Lindsey

His shoulder bumped mine again. "Can I ask you something?"
I didn't answer. He was going to ask me anyway. People don't say that if they don't want to pry something out of you. ~ Lilith Saintcrow

I've asked Sophia to stay for the night, and she has agreed."
Stay? In the same house he was staying in? It had been pure hell trying to sleep before, but now, knowing she was there, under the same roof, her lush body-"No." The word was torn from him.
Fiona's gaze narrowed. "Dougal, this is my house-"
"And mine," Jack added flatly.
Dougal sent him a cutting glare.
Fiona sniffed. "If I wish Miss MacFarlane to stay,she'll stay."
Sophia lifted her chin. "I'm sorry you're averse to my visit, but I've already accepted your sister's kind invitation.
Dougal's jaw clenched. If she stayed, he might not be able to let her go. Damn it all,this was not fair!
Outside, the gray sky began to darken again, a rumble of thunder sounding in the distance.
Sophia glanced out the window, her face paling yet more.
"Not again," Jack muttered. "We're going to float away."
"Dougal," his sister snapped, "watch your temper!"
"I am," he said through gritted teeth. ~ Karen Hawkins

Oh, and Drew, honey?"
The former counselor looked back reluctantly.
"In case you think I'm not a true daughter of Aphrodite," Piper said, "don't even look at Jason Grace. He may not know it yet, but he's mine. If you even try to make a move, I will load you into a catapult and shoot you across Long Island Sound."
Drew turned around so fast, she ran into the doorframe. Then she was gone. ~ Rick Riordan

I heard Derreck's words in my mind. Your people will always come first. Always. It dawned on me suddenly that Bethany was my people. She had stood by me, accepted me, been kidnapped for me. I didn't give a damn if she was Immortal or not. She was mine. Before I fully knew what I was saying, the words tumbled from my mouth. "Please, your majesty. Please just let her leave with my family. I'll do it. I'll do what you want. I'll marry Prince Mikail and go now. ~ Stormy Smith

Close your eyes, Maxon."
"What?"
"Close your eyes."
He frowned at me but obeyed. I waited until his eyes were shut and his face looked relaxed before I started.
"Somewhere in this palace, there is a woman who will be your wife."
I saw his mouth twitch, the beginnings of a hopeful smile.
"Maybe you don't know which face it is yet, but think of the girls in that room. Imagine the one who loves you the most. Imagine your 'dear.'"
His hand was resting next to mine on the seat, and his fingers grazed mine for a second. I shied away from the touch.
"Sorry," he mumbled, looking my way.
"Keep 'em closed!"
He chuckled and went back to his original position.
"This girl? Imagine that she depends on you. She needs you to cherish her and make her feel like the Selection didn't even happen. Like if you were dropped on your own out in the middle of the country to wander around door to door, she's still the one you would have found. She was always the one you would have picked. ~ Kiera Cass

You have made your request, what about mine?"
"I am not the one withholding secrets."
He smiled and I stared at him for a moment. When he smiled, his severe face softened into something beautiful. I wanted to see it again.
"On the contrary, I am the one who has no choice. You, on the other hand, do."
"What do you want from me?"
He reached out, fingers sliding across the length of my hair.
"Some strands of your hair."
Some of the courtiers in Bharata used to tie their wives' hair around their wrists when they traveled. It was a sign of love and faith. To remain connected to the person you love, even if it was just by a circlet of hair.
"May I?" asked Amar.
I nodded. With a small knife, Amar deftly clipped a number of strands. Quickly, he twirled them into a bracelet and slipped it onto his wrist. There was another bracelet on his hand that I had not noticed until now. A simple strap of black leather tied into an elegant knot.
"Thank you for this," he said, pulling his sleeve over the other strap.
"It's nothing," I said, trying for lightness.
"And yet I would trade everything for it," he said. There was no tease in his voice. Nothing but a strange straightforwardness, like he'd never said anything more honest in his entire life. ~ Roshani Chokshi

I felt a warm hand touch mine.
"Are you okay?"
"If you mean am I injured, then the answer is no. If you mean am I 'okay' as in am-I-confident-I'm-still-sane, the answer is still no."
Ren frowned. "We have to find a way to get across the chasm."
"You're certainly welcome to give it a try." I waved him off and went back to drinking my water.
He moved to the edge and peered across, looking speculatively at the distance. Changing back to a tiger, he trotted a few paces back in the direction we had come from, turned, and ran at full speed toward the hole.
"Ren, no!" I screamed.
He leapt, clearing the hole easily, and landed lightly on his front paws. Then he trotted a short distance away and did the same thing to come back. He landed at my feet and changed back to human form.
"Kells, I have an idea."
"Oh, this I've got to hear. I just hope you don't plan on including me in this scheme of yours. Ah. Let me guess. I know. You want to tie a rope to your tail, leap across, tie it off, and then have me pull my body across the rope, right?"
He cocked his head as if considering it, and then shook his head. "No, you don't have the strength to do something like that. Plus, we have no rope and nothing to tie a rope to."
"Right. So what's the plan?"
He held my hands and explained. "What I'm proposing will be much easier. Do you trust me?"
I was going to be sick. "I trust you. It's just-" I looked into his concerned blue eyes an ~ Colleen Houck

I want you to spend the night," you said. And it was definitely your phrasing that ensured it. If you had said, "Let's have sex," or "Let's go to my place," or even "I really want you," I'm not sure we would have gone quite as far as we did. But I loved the notion that the night was mine to spend, and I immediately decided to spend it with you. ~ David Levithan

i think any poem worth its salt, if poems can indeed be salty, should allow the reader to think. this poem is of course a chronological poem tracing the development of humans through the movement of black women. i have no feelings that the poem is exclusive of any one but i wanted to write a sassy hands-on-the-hips poem from the understanding that i am a woman and indeed was once a girl. i think it works because the more you know about anthropology and history the more you can follow what i am saying; on the other hand you can be a little child with no previous experiences and catch the joy of the poem. it goes from the first human bones discovered all the way to the space age. what has been included is as important to me as what has been excluded. what i strove to do was show progress, movement, humor and a bit of pride.

this is the most i've ever commented on any poem of mine since i tend to agree with t.s. eliot when he said a poet was the last person to know what the poem was/is about. ~ Nikki Giovanni

I'll be able to forget you after that." A bald-faced lie. Even if I turned ninety, lost my mind and forgot everything else, the memory of the Winter prince would be a shining beacon that would never fade.
Ash still wavered, looking torn. His eyes flicked to the door, and for a moment I thought he would walk away, leaving me to shrivel into a mortified heap. But then he let out a quiet sigh, and his shoulders slumped in resignation.
Meeting my gaze, he took one step forward, drew me into his arms, and brushed his lips to mine.
I think our last kiss was meant to be quick and chaste, but ... There was nothing sweet or gentle in our last kiss; it was filled with sorrow and desperation, of the bitter knowledge that we could've had something perfect, but it just wasn't meant to be.
"Don't ask me this again," he rasped, and I was too breathless to answer. ~ Julie Kagawa

To say that I fell into this love suggests a series of coincidences or just pure luck that takes away from the responsibility of my choice. For if our days are long or our nights bleak, when life springs unpleasant surprises along our way, I will remember that loving you was my choice. I will remember that love is much more than intense feelings. For feelings can be fickle and change so swiftly just in the course of one day. Know this then, my love. Know that this choice to forever link my life with yours was mine alone to make. With eyes wide open and clear, in the presence of God, our families, and our friends, I choose to spend the rest of my life with you and with you alone. ~ Yejide Kilanko

I, Borduke of the 6th squad in the 9th Company of the 8th Legion, swear on the downy belly of the Queen of Dreams that the creature before me is a natural, unaltered Birdshit scorpion, and may my father's ghost remain in its tomb, since the inheritance was mine to lose anyway, right? Dead means you don't care any more, right? It had better, because if it doesn't, then I'm doomed to paternal haunting for the rest of my days. ~ Steven Erikson

I didn't answer right away; I was too busy savoring the moment. The delicious night air, the music of mama cows in a distant pasture, the trillions of stars overhead, the feeling of his fingers entwined in mine. The night couldn't have gone any more perfectly. I'm not sure anything, even going home with him, could possibly make it any better.
I started to open my mouth, but Marlboro Man beat me to it. Standing up and lifting me off the tailgate of his pickup, he carried me, Rhett Butler-style, toward the passenger door. Setting me down and opening my door, he said, "On second thought…I think I'd better take you home." I smiled, convinced he must have read my mind.
Whether he had or not, the fact was that instantly and noticeably the whole vibe between us had changed. Before I'd dumped my Chicago apartment and told him my plans to stay, the passion between us had sometimes felt urgent, rushed, almost as if some imaginary force was compelling us to get it all out right here, right now, because before too long we wouldn't have the chance. There'd been a quiet desperation in our romance up until that point, feelings of excitement and lust mixed with an uncomfortable hint of doom and dread. But now that my move had all but been eliminated from the equation, the doom and dread had been replaced with a beautiful sense of comfort. In the blink of an eye, Marlboro Man and I, while madly and insanely in love, were no longer in any hurry.
"Yeah," I said, nodding my head. ~ Ree Drummond

Beginning to feel that her brother was being rather too harsh on Lillian Bowman, Livia frowned. "She's a very pretty girl, Marcus."
"A pretty facade isn't enough to make up for the flaws in her character."
"Which are?"
Marcus made a faint scoffing sound, as if Miss Bowman's faults were too obvious to require enumeration. "She's manipulative."
"So are you, dear," Livia murmured.
He ignored that. "She's domineering."
"As are you."
"She's arrogant."
"Also you," Livia said brightly.
Marcus glowered at her. "I thought we were discussing Miss Bowman's faults, not mine."
"But you seem to have so much in common," Livia protested, rather too innocently. ~ Lisa Kleypas

You were never as much to blame as you thought," she told him softly.
A brief smile touched his lips. "That's what you say. But you're biased."
She shrugged. "Maybe a little. But I would never have agreed to marry you if I'd thought you capable of real wickedness. I wouldn't have risked having a child of mine suffer the same torments you and your siblings suffered."
Oliver went still. "And does this sudden mention of some future child have anything to do with your sneaking out of the house to consult with a physician this morning?"
She gaped at him. "You knew? How did you find out?"
"Believe me, angel, I know whenever you leave my bed." His eyes gleamed at her. "I feel the loss of it right here." He struck his heart dramatically.
"Aunt Rose spoke the truth about you," she grumbled. "You are a smooth-tongued devil. And apparently you read minds, as well."
He chuckled. "Your aunt simply cannot keep secrets. But to be honest, it's not been hard to notice how little interest you show in your breakfast these days, and how often you like to nap. I know the signs of a woman with child. I watched my mother go through them with four children."
"And here I was hoping to surprise you," she said with a pout. "I swear you are impossible to surprise."
"That's only because you used up all your surprises in the first hour of our meeting."
"How so?"
"By boldly threatening me with Freddy's sword. And by agreeing to my insane proposal. Then ~ Sabrina Jeffries

We paused to breathe and I slid my arms around his neck and held his face the way I'd wanted to for so long. My fingers weaved into his wind-blown hair and tugged the back of his head, pulling his lips toward mine once more. There would be time for breathing later.
"I love you," I whispered when our lips finally parted. "The biggest lie I ever told was telling you I didn't. And if I ever claim you're not romantic, please remind me of the time we were 1.200 feet in the air in December and I needed to fan myself." I saw a smile overtake his eyes and felt it overtake his mouth. "I mean, seriously, Will," I said, my breath still coming back to me.
He pulled away, which was the last thing I wanted, and laughed. "But I'm also just a boy, standing in front of a girl..."
I threw my head back in joyous laughter. "You don't have to ask me to love you, Whitaker. It's done."
"Actually..." He kissed my hand and lowered onto one knee. "I was going to say "asking her to marry him." The hand that wasn't linked with mine was holding a beautiful emerald cut diamond ring. "Sorry there's not a box," he said with a wink.
My breath caught in my throat. "But, how did you...why do you..."
"Sorry, but Kevin's on my team. I claimed him pretty early. And he understands, in a way you still don't seem to, that not even Willie Mays and Hank Aaron could provide me with the motivation that you could. Besides, McCaffrey, even I'm not stupid enough to fall for that ridiculous ~ Bethany Turner

Miss me?" she asks with her usual wryness, tossing her backpack on the floor and dropping down on the bed beside me like she comes over all the time. "I feel like a rebel just knowing you. Everyone keeps asking me if you really lit Brooklyn on fire."
I arch a brow. "On fire?"
Catherine pumps up a pillow beneath her head. "The actual event has gotten a bit exaggerated." Her lips twitch. "Maybe I had something to do with that."
"Nice. Thanks."
"No problem."
"So I guess I'm pretty much done for at school." For the first time, it matters to me. If I'm to stay here and make a go of it, it wouldn't hurt to have a few friends. To not be a social outcast. Especially since it seems pretty important for Tamra's success at school, too.
"Are you kidding? You're a hero." Her lips twist with a smile. "I think you've got a shot at homecoming queen next fall."
I give a short laugh, and then her words sink. Next fall. Might I be here then? With Will? It's almost too sweet to believe.
"So," Catherine beings, picking at the loose paper edging my spiral. "Rutledge was absent today."
"Yeah?" I try for nonchalance.
"Yeah." She stretches the word, her blue-green eyes cutting meaningfully into mine. "And his cousins were around, so he's not off somewhere with them. I wonder..." She cocks her head, her long, choppy bangs, sliding low across her forehead. "Wherever could he have been?"
I shrug and pick at the flaking tip of my pencil.
She con ~ Sophie Jordan

Send word down the line," he said. "We'll camp here for the night."

Valik nodded and started to turn his horse around.

"And Valik? There are lamps in the carriage that are apparently supposed to help her back heal faster. Have them set them up in my tents. I'll see to the men while you get her settled." At Valik's raised brows, Wynter added, "Your face is prettier than mine, or so I'm told. She may find it easier to do what you ask than what I command."

"You're forgetting she kicked me in my pretty face last time I asked her to do something she didn't want to do."

Wyn gave a grunt of laughter. "Better than kicking you in the balls." Then he sobered. "And see to it she actually eats and drinks something." She'd taken little nourishment all day, and though he'd allowed it, knowing anything she ate was likely to come back up once they started moving again, they were stopping for the night now, and she needed to eat. Her body needed sustenance to heal. "If she balks, tell her I'll force it down her throat myself if I must."

Valik shook his head. "I'll let you tell her that." He rubbed his jaw. "I want to be able to chew my dinner. ~ C.L. Wilson

There will be blood," he said quietly, "blood and death. You should not have come."
"Since when was a woman afraid of blood?" she asked. "The problem is not only Sean's. It is mine also. If there is to be blood, I will share in the letting or the losing of it. ~ Louis L'Amour

Then he was striding toward me. His mesmerizing gaze pinned me in place as he cupped my face. When his lips covered mine, I gasped. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, groaning into the contact. His hands tightened on my face. His sexy groans made my toes curl, muddling my thoughts.
Block that out! I was Aric's wife. I'd wronged him in the past, had consigned him to misery for hundreds - no, thousands - of years. I needed to make this right. Like penance.
There was something vaguely threatening about his words. Misgivings about this arose. Too fast.
"If you have feelings for him, fight them," Aric commanded me. "By going to him, you'd be stoking them once more. Don't you understand? He can find another woman - I cannot. If you choose him, you'll be consigning me to a hellish fate. As you've done again and again. No, this will be even worse, because I've had a greater glimpse of what I'll be missing."

"I just want to talk to him. I'm leaving this weekend," I said in an unwavering voice.

"No, you will not." His arrogant demeanor back in place, he said, "Understand me, I'm not surrendering the one woman who was born for me alone. Not to a human, not to anyone."

"You can't keep me here against my will any longer. What are you going to do? Put that cuff back on me?"
I held up my hand to stop him. "I understand why you did it. But I won't be a prisoner anymore."

He snatched up his shirt, threading his arms into ~ Kresley Cole

And what makes you think I'm going to do anything you say?"
"Because for the time being you are legally mine,and that means you will obey me."
She nearly choked she drew in her breath so sharply. "Do not count on that,St. John.I don't care what rights you think this mockery of a marriage gives you,as far as I'm concerned,you don't even exist.Do I need to be more explicit?"
"No,I believe we have come to a mutual agreement to forget about each other, which suits me just fine.As long as you do nothing to gain my notice, which means you stay at your home for the duration."
"Your threats don't scare me."
He lifted a brow at her. "No? Then you really must have some odd notions about marriage,if you think you can do as you please now.Ask your mother if you doubt me."
He walked away,and she didn't bother to look where. They were man and wife and would be until he got their marriage annulled. What a rude awakening that was going to be in three or four months' time.For him. ~ Johanna Lindsey

A friend of mine who spent years in India with a great teacher from the ancient forest tradition tells a moving story... Years after his beloved teacher had died, he was back in India staying at the home of his guru's most devoted Indian disciple.

"I must show you something," the disciple said to my friend one day. "This is what he left for me." My friend was excited, of course. Any trace of his teacher was nectar to him. He watched as the elderly man opened the creaking doors of an ancient wooden wardrobe and took something from the back of the bottom shelf. It was wrapped in an old, dirty cloth.

"Do you see?" he asked my friend.

"No. See what?"

The disciple unwrapped the object, revealing an old, beat-up aluminum pot, the kind of ordinary pot one sees in every Indian kitchen. Looking deeply into my friend's eyes, he told him, "He left this for me when he went away. Do you see? Do you see?"

"No, Dada," he replied. "I don't see."

According to my friend, Dada looked at him even more intensely, this time with a mad glint in his eyes.

"You don't have to shine," he said. "You don't have to shine." He rewrapped the pot and put it back on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe.

My friend had received the most important teaching... He did not have to transform himself in the way he imagined: He just had to learn to be kind to himself. If he could hold himself with the care Dada showed while clutching t ~ Epstein Mark

I began to firmly change my mind when I saw how young Egyptians used Facebook, for example, to begin to coalesce their social justice movement in their country. And a good Iranian friend of mine showed me how also in Iran, till the government shut it down, much was communicated via social media. So I'm not against. I use the internet regularly to do research. It's great but you have to use your discernment, especially if researching content. ~ Micheline Aharonian Marcom

Who were the men in the Bronco?"
"If I had to guess, FBI."
"Are they following you?"
"Apparently."
"But you made it sound like they couldn't arrest you."
"Which is exactly why they're only following me."
"What do they want?"
"Information. Names. Dates. Locations. The measurements of my dick."
"Nine and three quarters."
"Excuse me?"
"Nine and three quarters."
"My dick is not ten inches long."
"No, I said nine and three quarters."
"Even I'm not that self-inflated."
"Have you ever measured it?"
For fear of setting off Morgan's bullshit o-meter, I had to fess up. "Just under eight and a half."
"When?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, if you did it before the age of twenty, you probably gained an inch."
"My dick is not… okay, even if it was, when did you measure it?"
"I had it in my ass. I think I would know."
"Is this where you tell me everyone has a built in ruler and all I need to do is bend over so you can show me how to use mine?"
Morgan snorted. "No, but we can test that theory if you want."
If I said anything but hell yeah, it would have been a five-alarm bullshit fire. "My dick is not that big." And as soon as I got the chance, I was whipping out the tape measure to prove it. ~ Adrienne Wilder

There," he said, admiring his own handiwork. "Good as new."
Violet glanced at the ridiculously huge Band-Aids on her knees and looked at him doubtfully. "You really think so? 'Good as new'?"
He smiled. "I think I did pretty good. It's not my fault you can't walk."
She narrowed her eyes at him. She wanted to tell him that it was his fault, that she would never have tripped if he'd just stayed the same old Jay he'd always been, gangly and childlike. But she knew that she was being irrational. He was bound to grow up eventually; she'd just never imagined that he'd grow up so well. Instead she accused him: "Well, maybe if you hadn't pushed me I wouldn't have fallen." She made the outlandish accusation with a completely straight face.
He shook his head. "You'll never be able to prove it. There were no witnesses-it's just your word against mine."
She giggled and hopped down. "Yeah, well, who's gonna believe you over me? Weren't you the one who shoplifted a candy bar from the Safeway?" She limped over to the sink while she taunted him with her words, and she washed the dirt from the minor scrapes on her palms.
"Whatever! I was seven. And I believe you were the one who handed it to me and told me to hide it in my sleeve. Technically that makes you the mastermind of that little operation, doesn't it?" He came up behind her, and reaching around her, he poured some of the antibacterial wash onto her hands.
She was taken completely off guard by the inti ~ Kimberly Derting

something inside me will say no. not this time. you've come so far. don't step backwards now.

you will be a mere yard away from me when i shake my head. you will freeze mid-step, and your eyes will go wide with surprise and confusion.

"no". the world will stumble from my mouth as if it was an accident. but i will prove that it isn't by turning away from you.

you will say, "wait, can't you just talk to me?"

there will be a plea in your voice that will make me stop for a moment. it will almost make me turn back to you. it will wrap a fist around my heart and squeeze.

but despite the pain, despite the pull i will always feel to you, i will look over my shoulder, and i will meet your gaze with mine one last time. and i will make sure you can feel that fire in me, burning. i will make sure you know that no matter how cold you made me, you never managed to put that fire out.

"no", i will say. "but it was good to see you". ~ Catarine Hancock

I had a neat stock of fixed opinions, but they dropped away one by one; and the further I get the less sure I am. I doubt if I have anything more for my present rule of life than following inclinations which do me and nobody else any harm, and actually give pleasure to those I love best. There, gentlemen, since you wanted to know how I was getting on, I have told you. Much good may it do you! I cannot explain further here. I perceive there is something wrong somewhere in our social formulas: what it is can only be discovered by men or women with greater insight than mine
if, indeed, they ever discover it
at least in our time. 'For who knoweth what is good for man in this life?
and who can tell a man what shall be after him under the sun? ~ Thomas Hardy

Little sister don't you worry about a thing today
Take the heat from the sun
Little sister
I know that everything is not ok
But you're like honey on my tongue

True love never can be rent
But only true love can keep beauty innocent

I could never take a chance
Of losing love to find romance
In the mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman
No I could never take a chance
'Cause I could never understand
The mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman

You can run from love
And if it's really love it will find you
Catch you by the heel
But you can't be numb for love
The only pain is to feel nothing at all
How can I hurt when I'm holding you?

I could never take a chance
Of losing love to find romance
In the mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman

And you're the one, there's no-one else
who makes me want to lose myself
In the mysterious distance
Between a man and a woman

Brown eyed girl across the street
On rue Saint Divine
I thought this is the one for me
But she was already mine
You were already mine...

Little sister
I've been sleeping in the street again
Like a stray dog
Little sister
I've been trying to feel complete again
But you're gone and so is God

The soul needs beauty for a soul mate
When the soul wants...the soul ~ U2

Being afraid's not always bad." he said gently. "It can keep you moving forward. It can help you get things done."
The silence between us was different than any silence I'd known before, full and warm and waiting. "What are you afraid of?" I dared to ask.
There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if it were something he'd never been asked before. For a moment I thought he wouldn't answer. But he let out a slow breath, and his gaze left mine to sweep across the trailer park. "Staying here." he finally said. "Staying until I'm not fit to belong anywhere else."
"Where do you want to belong?" I half whispered.
His expression changed with quicksilver speed, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Anywhere they don't want me. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Neither of them could tell who had made the first move, or whether they acted in unison. They were holding each other tightly before they knew what happened, Robin's chin on Strike's shoulder, his face in her hair. He smelled of sweat, beer and surgical spirits, she, of roses and the faint perfume that he had missed when she was no longer in the office. The feel of her was both new and familiar, as though he had held her a long time ago, as though he had missed it without knowing it for year. Through the closed door upstairs the band playing on:

I'll go wherever you will go
If I could make you mine ... ~ Robert Galbraith

I select the right practice gun, the one about the size of a pistol, but bulkier, and offer it to Caleb.
Tris's fingers slide between mine. Everything comes easily this morning, every smile and every laugh, every word and every motion.
If we succeed in what we attempt tonight, tomorrow Chicago will be safe, the Bureau will be forever changed, and Tris and I will be able to build a new life for ourselves somewhere. Maybe it will even be a place where I trade my guns and knives for more productive tools, screwdrivers and nails and shovels. This morning I feel like I could be so fortunate. I could.
"It doesn't shoot real bullets," I say, "but it seems like they designed it so it would be as close as possible to one of the guns you'll be using. It feels real, anyway."
Caleb holds the gun with just his fingertips, like he's afraid it will shatter in his hands.
I laugh. "First lesson: Don't be afraid of it. Grab it. You've held one before, remember? You got us out of the Amity compound with that shot."
"That was just lucky," Caleb says, turning the gun over and over to see it from every angle. His tongue pushes into his cheek like he's solving a problem. "Not the result of skill."
"Lucky is better than unlucky," I say. "We can work on skill now."
I glance at Tris. She grins at me, then leans in to whisper something to Christina.
"Are you here to help or what, Stiff?" I say. I hear myself speaking in the voice I cultivated as an initiatio ~ Veronica Roth

They Don't Love You Like I Love You"

My mother said this to me
long before Beyoncé lifted the lyrics
from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs,

and what my mother meant by
Don't stray was that she knew
all about it - the way it feels to need

someone to love you, someone
not your kind, someone white,
some one some many who live

because so many of mine
have not, and further, live on top of
those of ours who don't.

I'll say, say, say,
I'll say, say, say,
What is the United States if not a clot

of clouds? If not spilled milk? Or blood?
If not the place we once were
in the millions? America is Maps -

Maps are ghosts: white and
layered with people and places I see through.
My mother has always known best,

knew that I'd been begging for them,
to lay my face against their white
laps, to be held in something more

than the loud light of their projectors
of themselves they flicker - sepia
or blue - all over my body.

All this time,
I thought my mother said, Wait,
as in, Give them a little more time

to know your worth,
when really, she said, Weight,
meaning heft, preparing me

for the yoke of myself,
the beast of my country's burdens,
which is less worse than

my country's plow. Yes,
when my mother said,
They don't love you like I love y ~ Natalie Diaz

I will be sufficiently rewarded if when telling it to others you will not claim the discovery as your own, but will say it was mine. ~ Thales

I don't have any idea what to wear anymore, so I tried to cover all bases."
"Try skin."
"Little chilly for that."
We looked at each other across the coffee table.
His eyes didn't say, I'd heat you up, and mine didn't say What are you waiting for? He didn't reply, Fuck if I'm making the first move, so I was careful not to say, I wish you would, because I can't, because I'm ... and he didn't snap ... choking on your pride?!
"As if you aren't."
"Excuse me?"
"Really Barrons," I said drily. "I'm not the only one who didn't just not have that conversation, and you know it."
There was the faint, sexy lift of his lip. "You're a piece of work, Ms. Lane."
"Right back at you. ~ Karen Marie Moning

And what of you?" At Auric's foolish question, I snickered. "You're asking the biggest manwhore if he remembered a possible one night stand, among dozens - " "Hundreds," my father interjected. " - that created me? Seriously?" "I didn't know who Muri's mother was, but she was mine. ~ Eve Langlais

Whenever something went wrong when I was young - if I had a pimple or if my hair broke - my mom would say, 'Sister mine, I'm going to make you some soup.' And I really thought the soup would make my pimple go away or my hair stronger. ~ Maya Angelou

I don't know what's going on with you,' the man says from across the counter, 'but I'm not taking your money.' He blows into a straw and pinches both ends shut.
I shake my head and reach back for my wallet. 'No, I'll pay.'
He winds the straw tighter and tighter. 'I'm serious. It was only a milkshake. And like I said, I don't know what's going on, and I don't know how I can help, but something's clearly gone wrong in your life, so I want you to keep your money.' His eyes search mine, and I know he means it.
I don't know what to say. Even if the words would come, my throat is so tight it won't let them escape. ~ Jay Asher

Dear old Jane is a jewel," agreed Anne, "but," she added, leaning forward to bestow a tender pat on the plump, dimpled little hand hanging over her pillow, "there's nobody like my own Diana after all. Do you remember that evening we first met, Diana, and 'swore' eternal friendship in your garden? We've kept that 'oath,' I think…we've never had a quarrel nor even a coolness. I shall never forget the thrill that went over me the day you told me you loved me. I had had such a lonely, starved heart all through my childhood. I'm just beginning to realize how starved and lonely it really was. Nobody cared anything for me or wanted to be bothered with me. I should have been miserable if it hadn't been for that strange little dreamlife of mine, wherein I imagined all the friends and love I craved. But when I came to Green Gables everything was changed. And then I met you. You don't know what your friendship meant to me. I want to thank you here and now, dear, for the warm and true affection you've always given me. ~ L.M. Montgomery

If you want to know the one reason that's taking me back, I'll tell you: I cannot bring myself to abandon to destruction all the greatness of the world, all that which was mine and yours, which was made by us and is still ours by right - because I cannot believe that men refuse to see, that they can remain blind and deaf to us forever, when the truth is ours and their lives depend on accepting it ... So long as men desire to live, I cannot lose my battle. ~ Ayn Rand

Oh just kiss me Baethan!" I shouted, frustrated. This was taking too long.
He laughed lightly. "Not yet."
I rolled my eyes. "Brat."
"Nay love," he responded softly. His eyes met mine as he brushed his knuckles along my cheek. "Nothing is ever rushed with you. Every moment, every touch, every kiss…is an art form. Like a painter working on his masterpiece, I must be patient and precise with each and every stroke."
Oh my.
"Bae, I want to feel your lips upon mine."
"You will," he answered, "but this, this right here, is how a real kiss begins." His hands brushed along my arms and upward, moving slowly as they skimmed passed my chest as light as a feather. Rising higher, his fingers brushed along my neck and tilted my head back, his thumbs anchored on either side of the bottom of my chin. "Close your eyes," he whispered and I realized he was lowering his head, pausing just an inch from my lips. They parted, my breath accelerated as I awaited the tender touch of moist warmth that would follow.
My eyes closed and I breathed, several seconds passing us by as if hours, until his mouth closed over mine. His lips parted as his tongue gently pushed through, briefly, and then he pulled away slightly as his teeth nibbled my bottom lip. He held my face in his hands, and pressed multiple light kisses all over my mouth until I moaned. ~ Nikki Landis

She wrapped her arms around his head and hugged him to her abdomen. "Why are you so nice to me?"
His chuckle was muffled against her belly. "I have ulterior motives."
"Such as?"
"Making you mine." Shit. Why had he said that? He was showing his cards much too soon.
She slapped his shoulder. "Don't say it if you don't mean it." He wished he could say he didn't mean it. He didn't particularly want to be so far gone. Ah, what the fuck - he liked her. A lot. She was just going to have to learn to live with it. If he could admit it, surely she could accept it.
"I mean it, Toni." He untangled his head from her grasp so he could look up at her. "I really do like you. And it isn't just lust." For once in his dick-led life. "I can't stop thinking about you. Even when you're not in my bed, you're in my head. It's driving me crazy. I'm not sure how to handle it."
She smiled, and he saw her feelings displayed clearly in her eyes. "You're going to break my heart someday." She released a sigh and stared over his head as she spoke. "I really like you too, Logan. But maybe it's best if we pretend the only thing between us is lust. If I fall for you . . ." She shook her head and closed her eyes.
"You don't trust me with your heart."
"Should I?"
He wanted to say she should, wanted to say that he'd never hurt her, but he, more than anyone, was aware of his track record with women.
"That's something you'll have to decide on your own. ~ Olivia Cunning

He stopped and took my hand. "If we die, or if I die ... "
He was speaking of dying, and I couldn't stop smiling.
In the dark he must not have noticed, because he said in a rush, "I must tell you that I love you, and if I live I will ask for your hand, but you needn't say anything now if it distresses you, and I might rather die without knowing that you don't love me if that's how you feel."
I tried to speak, but nothing came. I had gained courage during my adventures, but not for this.
"Addie?"
Too soft to hear, I whispered, "I do love you."
But he heard. He cupped his hand under my chin and tilted my face up so I had to meet his eyes. He was smiling too, with a smile as happy as mine. "Oh, Addie!" He leaned down to kiss me ... ~ Gail Carson Levine

And the ladies dressed in red for my pain and with my pain latched onto my breath, clinging like the fetuses of scorpions in the deepest crook of my neck, the mothers in red who sucked out the last bit of heat that my barely beating heart could give me - I always had to learn on my own the steps you take to drink and eat and breathe, I was never taught to cry and now will never learn to do this, least of all from the great ladies latched onto the lining of my breath with reddish spit and floating veils of blood, my blood, mine alone, which I drew myself and which they drink from now after murdering the king whose body is listing in the river and who moves his eyes and smiles, though he's dead and when you're dead, you're dead, for all the smiling you do, and the great ladies, the tragic ladies in red have murdered the one who is floating down the river and I stay behind like a hostage in their eternal custody.

I want to die to the letter of the law of the commonplace, where we are assured that dying is the same as dreaming. The light, the forbidden wine, the vertigo. Who is it you write for? The ruins of an abandoned temple. If only celebration were possible. A mournful vision, splintered, of a garden of broken statues.

Numb time, time like a glove upon a drum. The three who compete in me remain on a shifting point and we neither are nor is. My eyes used to find rest in humiliated, forsaken things. Nowadays I see with them; I've seen and approved of no ~ Alejandra Pizarnik

I read your poem," I croaked. "'Fall.'"
Then something I never thought would happen, happened: Marcus Flutie was shocked by something I said.
"You did?" he said. "I thought you lost it!"
"Well someone found it for me. Where do you get off saying," I lowered my voice, "we'll be naked without shame in paradise?"
He didn't open his mouth.
"I know what that means, you know. Who do you think I am?"
He didn't open his mouth.
"We are never going to be naked without shame in paradise."
He didn't open his mouth.
"We're NEVER going to have sex," I whispered, clearly over-stating my case.
He didn't open his mouth. The mouth that used to bite mine.
"And I'm just going to forget about that biting thing from the other night," I said.
He looked at me right in the eyes. If he'd focused hard enough on my pupils, he could've seen his own reflection, his own face smirking at me.
"You couldn't forget if you tried," he said, before walking away.
He's right. And I don't know if I hate him or love him for that. ~ Megan McCafferty

Duroy, who felt light hearted that evening, said with a smile: "You are gloomy to-day, dear master."
The poet replied: "I am always so, young man, so will you be in a few years. Life is a hill. As long as one is climbing up one looks towards the summit and is happy, but when one reaches the top one suddenly perceives the descent before one, and its bottom, which is death. One climbs up slowly, but one goes down quickly. At your age a man is happy. He hopes for many things, which, by the way, never come to pass. At mine, one no longer expects anything - but death."
Duroy began to laugh: "You make me shudder all over."
Norbert de Varenne went on: "No, you do not understand me now, but later on you will remember what I am saying to you at this moment. A day comes, and it comes early for many, when there is an end to mirth, for behind everything one looks at one sees death. You do not even understand the word. At your age it means nothing; at mine it is terrible. Yes, one understands it all at once, one does not know how or why, and then everything in life changes its aspect. For fifteen years I have felt death assail me as if I bore within me some gnawing beast. I have felt myself decaying little by little, month by month, hour by hour, like a house crumbling to ruin. Death has disfigured me so completely that I do not recognize myself. I have no longer anything about me of myself - of the fresh, strong man I was at thirty. I have seen death whiten my black hair ~ Guy De Maupassant

Not everyone works like that. Some need, and want to be loved by one man alone. When I love someone, I give them everything I have and don't expect to get anything back in return for it. I'd never tear you down, Ryder; not if you were mine. Besides, you told me once before that love was worth fighting for. ~ Amelia Hutchins

I awoke from this nightmare into a freezing cold motel room: the heater had broken at some point during the night, and the fan was now blowing icy air into the room.

At first I tried to keep warm under the crappy motel bedspread by thinking about the man I loved. At the time he was traveling in Europe, and was thus unreachable. I didn't know it yet, but as I lay there, he was traveling with another woman. Does it matter now? I tried hard to feel his body wrapped tightly around mine.

Next I tried to imagine everyone I had ever loved, and everyone who had ever loved me, wrapped around me. I tried to feel that I was the composite of all these people, instead of alone in a shitty motel room with a broken heater somewhere outside of Detroit, a few miles from where Jane's body was dumped thirty-six years ago on a March night just like this one.

'Need each other as much as you can bear,' writes Eileen Myles. 'Everywhere you go in the world.'

I felt the wild need for any or all of these people that night. Lying there alone, I began to feel - perhaps even to know - that I did not exist apart from their love and need of me.

Of this latter I felt less sure, but it seemed possible, if the equation worked both ways.

Falling asleep I thought, 'Maybe this, for me, is the hand of God. ~ Maggie Nelson

Why'd you want to have sex with me? To have a f*cking adventure? What was I supposed to be? Your one-night-f*cking stand? I'm every woman's adventure, damn you, and I don't want to be yours. I want to be your f*cking REAL. You get that? If I f*ck you, I want you to belong to me. To be mine. I want you to give yourself to me - not Riptide! ~ Katy Evans

I would like to ask one favor though, if that's not too much," he said.
I wonder what he saw on my face, because something flickered across his own face in response. But, before I could identify it, he'd composed his features into the same serene mask.
"Anything," I vowed, my voice faintly stronger.
As I watched, his frozen eyes melted. The gold became liquid again, molten, burning down into mine with an intensity that was overwhelming.
"Don't do anything reckless or stupid," he ordered, no longer detached. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
I nodded helplessly.
His eyes cooled, the distance returned. ~ Stephenie Meyer

If beauty is pain - let me get lost in it. If you're my salvation - I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give - then let me give it. You. It's all for you."
Gabe's eyes opened and locked in on mine.
"How can I prove that what I feel is real? You ask for truth I give you lies. You ask for joy I make you cry. But I don't want to lose you. Not like this. Not when I've left your heart in such a mess. Give me one chance - I'm letting go of the past - but I need you here to know."
"If beauty is pain - let me get lost in it. If you're my salvation - I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give - then let me give it. You, it's all for you." He paused, hitting the last few notes, and the song ended.
Gabe's smile lit up the room.
But I was frozen in place.
Me. He'd sung that to me. ~ Rachel Van Dyken

Ty: Just words I like. If I say them to myself, it makes my mind - quieter. Does it bother you?
Kit: No. I was just curious what words you liked.
Ty: It's not the meaning, just the sound. Glass, twin, apple, whisper, stars, crystal, shadow, lilt.
Kit: Whisper would be one of mine, too. Cloud, secret, highway, hurricane, mirror, castle, thorns.
Ty: Blackthorns. ~ Cassandra Clare

Matilda?" he said softly as he lowered his head to mine, his eyes shifting to gaze at my lips, then back to my eyes.
He was going to kiss me.
( ... ) "Y-yes?" I breathed.
His lips were almost on mine. His body bent over me, closer, closer. I thought I'd burst for want.
I held my breath and closed my eyes.
His fingers squeezed the back of my neck, gentle and possessive.
"If you make me late," he murmured, his breath warm across my mouth, "I will throttle you."
Wait. What?
My eyes snapped open.
( ... ) By the time I pulled my thoughts together, he was already out the door. His voice floated back to me. "Move, Matilda. We're late."
That was it? No kiss? What was wrong with that man? He was sending off more mixed signals than a three-armed traffic cop. ~ Devon Monk

I want to know your story. I want to know you. I want - oh, fuck it. Ren cupped my cheek, his hand gentle as he tilted my head back, and before my heart could take another beat, he kissed me. It was no slow or seductive kiss. He claimed my lips as if he were laying claim to my body, to my soul, and every part of me. His mouth was demanding as he tilted his head, his lips moving over mine, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, willing them to part, and I ... I opened for him. My lips parted, and he made this sound, this deep animalistic groan that sent flames lapping over my skin. The kiss deepened, and his tongue slid over mine, along the roof of my mouth. He took me with his mouth, tasted me and claimed me. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

His gaze on mine was completely steady and unblinking, and there was an upward curl at the corners of his mouth . . . he was smiling like he was actually enjoying this.
But I couldn't help feeling as if, behind those blue eyes, there was a different Christopher – the old Christopher – begging me to call him on his asinine behavior. To say, I'm asking for your help now. Will you help us? Will you help me?
Only I didn't.
Because I was too angry with him. Why was he acting like such a four-year-old? I'd already explained to him why I'd made the decisions I had. They'd been perfectly decent, rational decisions.
So why was he acting this way? ~ Meg Cabot

You needn't instruct me to think about my children's welfare," Phoebe said quietly. "I've always put them first, and always will. As for me being a child... I'm afraid I'm not nearly enough like one." A faint smile touched her lips. "Children are optimistic. They have a natural sense of adventure. To them, the world has no limitations, only possibilities. Henry was always a bit childlike in that way- he never became disenchanted with life. That was what I loved most about him."
"If you loved Henry, you will honor his wishes. He wanted Edward to have charge of his family and estate."
"Henry wanted to make sure our future would be in capable hands. But it already is."
"Yes. Edward's."
"No, mine. I'll learn everything I need to know about managing this estate. I'll hire people to help me if necessary. I'll have this place thriving. I don't need a husband to do it for me. If I marry again, it will be to a man of my choosing, in my own time. I can't promise it will be Edward. I've changed during the past two years, but so far, he doesn't see me for who I am, only who I was. For that matter, he doesn't see how the world has changed- he ignores the realities he doesn't like. How can I trust him with our future?"
Georgiana regarded her bitterly. "Edward is not the one who is ignoring reality. How can you imagine yourself capable of running this estate?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Women aren't capable of leadership. Our intelligence is no less than men's, ~ Lisa Kleypas

What's going on between us?"
I don't know. I rubbed my hand over my face before glancing at Echo. A hint of her cleavage peeked from her shirt. Damn, she was sexy as hell. I wanted her, badly. Would one night be enough, even if she gave it to me? Echo already felt like a heavy drug. The kind I avoided on purpose - crack, heroin, meth. The ones that screwed with your mind, crept into your blood and left you powerless, helpless. If she gave her body to me, would i be able to let go or would i be sucked into that black veil, hooks embedded into my skin, sentenced to death by the emotion i reserved for my brothers-love? "I want you."
"Do you? Really? Because these scars are sexy."
How did she see her self? "I don't give a fuck about your scars."
She stalked toward me, hips swaying side to side, eyes hardened with anger. Echo pushed her body agaist mine, parts of her fitting perfectly into parts of me. I swore under my breath, fighting for control over my body.
"How are you going to react when we 're this close and you take off my shirt? Are you still going to want me when you see red and white lines? Are you going to flinch each time you accidentally touch my arms and feel the raised skin? How about when i touch you?"
She pulled away from me, leaving my body cold after experiencing her warmth. "Or will you forbid that? Will you tell me how to dress or what i'm allowed to take off?"
Her anger only fed mine. "For the last time I don't give ~ Katie McGarry

Making your own T-shirts? Don't you have people for that?" I asked. "Like professionals?"
"Well,I usually travel with an army of professional T-shirt makers, but today I thought I'd go it alone."
Jack didn't take his eyes off me as Cole spoke. I wasn't sure he was even listening,or aware Cole was there.
"What are the screens for?" I asked.
"Elvis Presley as a corpse.You wanna come look?" Cole gave me a grin as if he'd just asked if I wanted to see rainbows being made.
"You had me at 'corpse.'"
Jack chuckled. "Saying good-bye here. Remember?"
I turned to Jack, rose up on my tiptoes, and kissed his lips lightly. "Two weeks,Jack. It'll fly by."
I started to back up,but Jack grabbed my hand and pulled me close. "No you don't," he said. "The corpse can wait."
He gave me a kiss that was not quite appropriate for public view,and I would've been embarrassed if I hadn't lost the ability to think straight. His arms reached around my back,and he pulled me in tight against him so that my feet were barely touching the ground. And things started disappearing around us,just like they did every time Jack kissed me.
He pulled back. "What were you saying about two weeks?"
"That it will feel like forever," I said, breathless.
"That's better." Jack lowered his head so his forehead was touching mine. "Miss you."
"Miss you too," I whispered. ~ Brodi Ashton

But sometimes, very occasionally, songs and books and films and pictures express who you are perfectly. And they don't do this in words or images, necessarily; the connection is a lot less direct and more complicated than that. When I was first beginning to write seriously, I read Anne Tyler's Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, and suddenly knew what I was, and what I wanted to be, for better or worse. It's a process something like falling in love. You don't necessarily choose the best person, or the wisest, or the most beautiful; there's something else going on. There was a part of me that would rather have fallen for Updike or Kerouac, or DeLillo – for someone masculine, or at least, maybe somebody a little more opaque, and certainly someone who uses more swearwords- and, though I have admired those writers, at various stages in my life, admiration is a very different thing from the kind of transference I'm talking about. I'm talking about understanding – or at least feeling like I understand- every artistic decision, every impulse, the soul of both the work and its creator. "This is me," I wanted to say when I read Tyler's rich, sad, lovely novel. "I'm not a character, I'm nothing like the author, I haven't had the experiences she writes about. But even so, this is what I feel like, inside. This is what I would sound like, if I ever I were to find a voice." And I did find a voice, eventually, and it was mine, not hers; but nevertheless, so powerful was the process of ident ~ Nick Hornby

I am in a chaos of principles - groping in the dark - acting by instinct and not after example. Eight or nine years ago when I came here first, I had a neat stock of fixed opinions, but they dropped away one by one; and the further I get the less sure I am. I doubt if I have anything more for my present rule of life than following inclinations which do me and nobody else any harm, and actually give pleasure to those I love best. There, gentlemen, since you wanted to know how I was getting on, I have told you. Much good may it do you! I cannot explain further here. I perceive there is something wrong somewhere in our social formulas: what it is can only be discovered by men or women with greater insight than mine - if, indeed, they ever discover it - at least in our time.

Gekürzt:
Meine Grundsätze sind in Wirrwarr geraten – ich taste im dunkeln -, handle aus Instinkt und nicht nach Vorbildern. Vor acht oder neun Jahren, […] hatte ich einen schönen Vorrat feststehender Meinungen; aber die sind mir eine nach der andern abhanden gekommen; je älter ich werde , um so weniger sicher bin ich. Eigentlich befolge ich jetzt keine andere Lebensregel, als dass ich Neigungen nachgehe, die weder mir noch sonst jemandem schaden, sondern denen, die ich liebe, wirklich Freude machen. […] Ich spüre, dass etwas in unserem sozialen Gefüge nicht stimmt: aber was es ist, das können nur Männer und Frauen mit besserer Einsicht als ich herausfinden – wenn sie es überhaupt herausfinden ~ Thomas Hardy

You can't give me this."
"Yes, I can. It's mine to do with as I choose, and I choose to give it to you. I can't vouch for its luck-delivering properties, but it can't do any harm, can it?"
"No." He looked at the gray metallic medal in his palm. The ribbon was still warm. He closed his fingers around it. "I want to say something to you. If I don't say it now, I might never say it."
She looked down as she shook her head. "Harry-"
"I am permitted to make a fool of myself because I might die tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? In Altrincham?"
"I'm not being literal."
"You are being dramatic." Edie pushed her hair behind her ears and put the beret back on. She smiled at him and widened her eyes. "You might not die tomorrow, and then what a fool would you feel?"
"Edie, please, let me be serious."
"No, because you will say something that you regret. And then I will say things that I regret."
"Will you?"
"I have to get my bus," she said. "Saint Christopher protects travelers. Now you'll always be able to find your way back to me, won't you?"
"I will. You know I always will."
"Don't really stop writing to me, will you?"
"How could I? I promise; I won't ever stop. ~ Caroline Scott

It looks as though your shop is doing well," Luka said gazing around, "Could you help me find a gift for a lady friend of mine?"
My heart plunged to my grenn satin slippers, and I had to stare down at Azarte for a minute, petting him hard. Naturally Luka had a "lady friend." She was probably nobly born: the daughter of a count or a duke. I imagined her having thick dark hair and clear skin, and was bitterly jealous. "Of course," I stammered after a time. "What would she like? A gown? A sash?" If she came in for a fitting, I decided to "accidentlly" poke her with every pin. ~ Jessica Day George

Can I come look?"
He sat back on his heels and gestured to his artwork. "By all means. I'm done."
I got up, happily noting that my ankle was now pain free. I carefully tiptoed around the two square feet of floor over which his drawing sprawled, and settled in next to him. "It's beautiful," I told him. "I'm flattered. I've never had anyone draw a picture of me before."
Sage cocked his head and studied what he'd etched. "You think it looks like you?"
Again a hot crawl of embarrassment raced up my neck and flooded my face. I looked more closely at the etching. The image did look like me, but only if you really wanted to see the resemblance. The woman in it had the same hair, and slept in the same position I had, but on closer inspection her features were quite different. Her eyes were farther apart, her nose more pointed, her cheekbones less defined…differences that seemed insignificant when I'd assumed the picture was of me, but knowing it wasn't…
I was an egocentric idiot. My dreams about this man may have been vivid, but they were dreams. They had nothing to do with reality; not mine, and clearly not his. I stammered, groping for some kind of explanation. I had nothing.
"She does look like you, a little," Sage admitted. His eyes lingered on the contours of the drawing's face. I was eager to change the subject, but I felt like I had to ask.
"Who is she?"
"Someone I loved a long time ago," he murmured. ~ Hilary Duff

What do you think of human intelligence?" asked Mavis Pellington lamely.
"Of whose intelligence in particular?" asked Tobermory coldly.
"Oh, well, mine for instance," said Mavis with a feeble laugh.
"You put me in an embarrassing position," said Tobermory, whose tone and attitude certainly did not suggest a shred of embarrassment. "When your inclusion in this house-party was suggested Sir Wilfrid protested that you were the most brainless woman of his acquaintance, and that there was a wide distinction between hospitality and the care of the feeble-minded. Lady Blemley replied that your lack of brain-power was the precise quality which had earned you your invitation, as you were the only person she could think of who might be idiotic enough to buy their old car. You know, the one they call 'The Envy of Sisyphus,' because it goes quite nicely up-hill if you push it. ~ Saki

I made a choice between you and the King, and I chose you," Loki said. "In the garden, we were alone. I could've knocked you out and thrown you over my shoulder, then taken you back to the King. He would've spared me if I had.
"But I didn't." He stepped closer to me, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "He told me what he'd do to me if I didn't return you to him, but I couldn't do it."
He lifted his other hand, so he held my face in his hands. His skin was warm against mine, and even if he wasn't holding me, I wouldn't have looked away. There was something in his eyes, a longing and warmth, that took my breath away.
"Do you understand now?" Loki asked, his voice husky. "I would do it again for you, Wendy. I would go through hell and back for you. Even knowing how much you hate me right now."
I was so caught up in the moment I didn't even notice how close the passing SUV had gotten until it squealed to a stop next to us, nearly hitting our Cadillac. Loki moved toward me, and Tove jumped out of the driver's seat. Finn ran around the car and charged at Loki. ~ Amanda Hocking

The only dream I ever had was the dream of New York itself, and for me, from the minute I touched down in this city, that was enough. It became the best teacher I ever had. If your mother is anything like mine, after all, there are a lot of important things she probably didn't teach you: how to use a vibrator; how to go to a loan shark and pull a loan at 17 percent that's due in thirty days; how to hire your first divorce attorney; what to look for in a doula (a birth coach) should you find yourself alone and pregnant. My mother never taught me how to date three people at the same time or how to interview a nanny or what to wear in an ashram in India or how to meditate. She also failed to mention crotchless underwear, how to make my first down payment on an apartment, the benefits of renting verses owning, and the difference between a slant-6 engine and a V-8 (in case I wanted to get a muscle car), not to mention how to employ a team of people to help me with my life, from trainers to hair colorists to nutritionists to shrinks. (Luckily, New York became one of many other moms I am to have in my lifetime.) So many mothers say they want their daughters to be independent, but what they really hope is that they'll find a well-compensated banker or lawyer and settle down between the ages of twenty-five and twenty-eight in Greenwich, Darien, or That Town, USA, to raise babies, do the grocery shopping, and work out in relative comfort for the rest of their lives. I know this because ~ Kelly Cutrone

It is a matter of great satisfaction to me to hope that my children will be in circumstances to receive a good education. Mine was defective and I feel the inconvenience, if not the misfortune of not receiving a classical education. Knowledge is the food of genius, and my son, let no opportunity escape you to treasure up knowledge. ~ Sam Houston

I like you pretty okay as you are," Rusty conceded. "I remember when you were just Angie's friend who I vaguely thought might be high on cough syrup all the time. But then I saw how you were with Angela, and what you meant to her. I saw your home, the warmth of it, how different it was from mine, how much I wanted a home like that for Angela. I loved you, and the thought of all that came with you. I wanted to make that love mean something. For the first time in my life, I wanted to do something, and I wanted what I did to matter. I wanted to take what I felt for you and build something beautiful."

Kami glanced nervously up at his face.

"That's, um, that means a lot to me, but you have to know I'm not looking to settle down and build a home with anyone until my mid-thirties, if ever, because I am going to be pursuing my career as a hard-hitting reporter."

Rusty smacked her lightly on the top of her head. "You were a beautiful dream to me, you brat; please cease inserting your unpleasant and hurtful reality into my dream. It was the kind of dream that's not supposed to come true. It was the kind of dream that does something else. It taught me who I wanted to be. ~ Sarah Rees Brennan

No, you have to finish school. The wind turbines need you. There's possibly an apocalypse on the way." I felt like an apocalypse was happening right now, a personal one. I felt as if I'd waited to start living my life until she came. "We'll work things out," I said. "The important thing is that we need to be together." Most of my clients owned at least one masterpiece they knew they could never part with. I had apparently acquired mine. ~ Annabel Joseph

As we got into his car he tossed a glance my way. "So how much of that did you really hear?"

Shit.

I stared out the window. "Enough to know his heart's in the right place" - I turned to Ryder - "and that he's wrong."

He was quiet for a moment, and I couldn't tell if he was angry or thoughtful but then he reached over and slipped his fingers through mine. He raised my hand and pressed a kiss on my knuckles. "Well, he was definitely wrong about one thing." He kept his eyes on the road, but a small smile finally ghosted across his lips. "For the record, I was interested in high school. But your burning hatred for me seemed a good reason to keep my distance."

Fighting back a grin, I shook my head. "It wasn't burning."

With a sideways glance, he curved his mouth into the sexiest smile ever. "Yeah, I saw the way you looked at me, it kind of was."

I peeked over at him. "Maybe that wasn't hatred you saw."

He raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged.

"Wow." He puffed out air. "Now you tell me. ~ Renita Pizzitola

You're out there, Lespere. It's all over. It's just as if it had never happened, isn't it?"
"No."
"When anything's over, it's just like it never happened. Where's your life any better than mine, now? Now is what counts. Is it any better? Is it?"
"Yes, it's better!"
"How?"
"Because I got my thoughts, I remember!" cried Lespere, far away, indignant, holding his memories to his chest with both hands.
And he was right. With a feeling of cold water rushing through his head and body, Hollis knew he was right. There were differences between memories and dreams. He had only dreams of things he wanted to do, while Lespere had memories of things done and accomplished. And thus knowledge began to pull Hollis apart in slow, quivering precision.
"What good does it do you?" he cried to Lespere. "Now? When a thing's over it's not good any more. You're no better off than me."
"I'm resting easy," said Lespere. "I've had my turn. I'm not getting mean at the end, like you. ~ Ray Bradbury