Just A Kiss Away Quotes

She slowly began to hum her personal favorite,not even realizing when instinctively she began to sing the lyrics:"hush,little baby,don't say a word.If that mockingbird don't sing,papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring.If that diamond ring don't" "Do me a favor.Pretend you're that mockingbird and shut up" one angry,bloodshot eye glared at her. "I was just trying to help" "Help what? bring down the walls of the hut with your screeching? ~ Jill Barnett

Nothing I can say will make her feel better at the moment, so I just press a kiss to her forehead before walking out.
Places to go.
People to see.
Blood to spill.
You know how it is. ~ J.M. Darhower

Phury laid a hard one on the male's mouth, the kiss a punch between faces, not anything even remotely sexual. And he did it only to wipe the expression off the bastard's face. It worked. The Reverend stiffened and growled, and Phury knew he'd called the guy's bluff. But just to make sure the lesson was learned, he clipped the male's lower lip with a fang. ~ J.R. Ward

Want and need were words that got eaten smaller and smaller: Freedom, autonomy, a perennial bank balance, a stainless-steel condo in a dustless city, a silky black car, to make out with Blue, eight hours of sleep, a cell phone, a bed, to kiss Blue just once, a blister-less heel, bacon for breakfast, to hold Blue's hand, one hour of sleep, toilet paper, deodorant, a soda, a minute to close his eyes.
What do you want, Adam?
To feel awake when my eyes are open. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

You grow sleepy,cara mia," Julian whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehea. "We should go to your brother's chamber. I will check him once more before we go to ground."
Desari refused to open her eyes. She made a soft purring sound, completely contented to lie in his arms. "Not yet, Julian," she protested softly. "I do not want to leave this place for a little while longer."
"I can feel how tired you are, my love. I can do no other than-"
"Do not say it!" Deasri thumped his chest. "Just lie there and hold me. That is what I want. Men are such difficult creatures,Julian. I am beginning to realize this."
He rubbed his chin on the top of her head, her hair catching in the shadow along his jaw. "Men are not difficult. They are logical and methodical."
She laughed softly. "You wish it wree so. I must tell you,although I am taking a huge cance that you might become impossible to live with, tha you are an extraordinary lover."
"Keep talking,lifemate. I am listening," he responded with a deep satisfaction. "Magnificent was only a starting place. Extraordinary lover is the perfect description. I see that now."
Her soft laughter washed over him, as gentle as a breeze. Touching him. Just like that. She could touch him with her breath. Julian wrapped his arms around her tightly and buried his face in her ebony hair. "Why is it you always smell so good?"
"Would you want me to smell like a cavewoman?"
"I do not know,cara. I do not know what a ~ Christine Feehan

Rather than answer, he just moans again. Low, agonized. Shit, he's desperate for it. I guess I would be too if I'd walked around all day with a plug rubbing on my prostate. I smooth my hand down his strong back, then lean in and plant a kiss between his shoulder blades as I withdraw again. "I like you like this," I murmur. "That sexy ass in the air. Having you at my mercy. Hearing you beg. ~ Sarina Bowen

The kiss wasn't a buildup to something else; it wasn't a promise of more to come – it couldn't be. Just a sweet, sad acknowledgment that this was something beautiful that could never be. ~ Brynn Kelly

I want to see you.
Know your voice.
Recognize you when you
first come 'round the corner.
Sense your scent when I come
into a room you've just left.
Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.
Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.
I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
more ~ Rumi

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

He considered her request before answering, and she could tell he was enjoying this. Jay loved this particular weakness of hers. "You can guess, but I'm still not telling."
"What if I guess right?"
"Then you'd be pretty freakin' amazing."
She pretended to be offended. "So, what if I don't figure it out . . . ?"
His uneven grin made an appearance. "You're still pretty freakin' amazing, Violet." He lifted her hand, pressing it lightly to his lips.
Violet felt herself blushing. She knew how to handle his teasing, but she still hadn't gotten used to this gentler, sweeter side of him.
"You're such a girl," she chided, but somehow the words came out too soft . . . too tender, and ended up sounding like a compliment.
Jay just laughed. "So what does that make you, the guy?" He squeezed her hand even tighter, keeping it buried in his.
"Or some sort of lesbian," she teased, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe we should try out a little girl-on-girl action."
"Nice, Violet. Do you kiss your mom with that mouth?" His eyes glinted as he watched her.
She leaned closer to him in the darkness of the car's interior. "No, but I'll kiss you with it."
He set her hand back in her lap. "Watch it, Vi, or I might pull over right now and we'll never make it there."
She raised her eyebrows. "Make it where?"
"Nice try, but you can't distract me that easily . . . it's still a surprise. ~ Kimberly Derting

When she is older she will see in these resemblances a regrettable uniformity among individuals (they all stop at the same spots to kiss, have the same tastes in clothing, flatter a woman with the same metaphor) and a tedious monotony among events (they are all just an endless repetition of the same one); but in her adolescence she welcomes these coincidences as miraculous and she is avid to decipher their meanings. ~ Milan Kundera

Girlfriend!" Blue repeated, and he felt a disconnected thrill to hear her say the word. "How about friend-friend?"
"I thought we were friend-friends."
"Are we? Friends talk. You go walking to the Pentagon and I find out from Gansey! Your dad's a jerk and I find out from Gansey! Noah knows everything. Ronan knows everything."
"They don't know everything. They know what they were there for. Gansey knows because he was there."
"Yeah, and why wasn't I?"
"Why would you be?"
"Because you'd invited me," Blue said.
The world tilted. He blinked; it straightened. "But there wasn't any reason for you to be there."
"Right, sure. Because there's no girls in politics! I have no interest. Voting? What? I forgot my apron. I think I ought to be in the kitchen right now, actually. My rolling pin -"
"I didn't know that you -"
"That's my point! Did it even occur to you?"
It had not.
"You wouldn't have gone someplace without Gansey, though," Blue snapped. "You two make a grand couple! Kiss him!"
Adam cocked his head witheringly.
"Well, I don't want to be just someone to kiss. I want to be a real friend, too. Not just someone who's fun to have around because - because I have breasts! ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Thanks to my mother, I was raised to have a morbid imagination. When I was a child, she often talked about death as warning, as an unavoidable matter of fact. Little Debbie's mom down the block might say, 'Honey, look both ways before crossing the street.' My mother's version: 'You don't look, you get smash flat like sand dab.' (Sand dabs were the cheap fish we bought live in the market, distinguished in my mind by their two eyes affixed on one side of their woebegone cartoon faces.)
The warnings grew worse, depending on the danger at hand. Sex education, for example, consisted of the following advice: 'Don't ever let boy kiss you. You do, you can't stop. Then you have baby. You put baby in garbage can. Police find you, put you in jail, then you life over, better just kill youself. ~ Amy Tan

Rob came to me and I stood, his body fitting against mine so easy, my shoulder tucked under his, his hip against the curve of my waist. I looked up at him, and he ducked his head to give me a soft, gentle, easy kiss.
It were a husband's kiss, I rather thought. It weren't the first kiss, a thing of hunger and new tastes. It weren't all our sad kisses of leaving and coming back, full of desperation and scared. It were just a kiss. A kiss that felt like he'd done it before, a kiss that knew he could do it again.
Then again, it also sent lightning crackling down my back, and I remembered there were ways we weren't husband and wife just yet. I felt a blush running up my face and he stroked my cheek, kissing me again. ~ A.C. Gaughen

Surely there was at least one other girl on campus not sporting a French pedicure (do girls really think we're fooled by the little white lines painted across their toenails?), who had some black in her wardrobe, and actually thought about things. You know, someone who knew the word French could imply more than just a way to kiss. ~ Veronica Wolff

Impossible?" she scoffed, lurching to face him. "You have servants who can pull the brains from a calf's head, but they couldn' get one little pear out of a bottle? I doubt that. Send for one of your under-butlers - just give a whistle, and - oh, I forgot. You can't whistle." She focused on him, her eyes narrowing as she stared at his mouth. "That's the sillies' thing I ever heard. Everyone can whistle. I'll teach you. Right now. Pucker your lips. Like this. Pucker…see?"
Marcus caught her in his arms as she swayed before him. Staring down at her adorably pursed lips, he felt an insistent warmth invading his heart, overflowing and spilling past its fretted barriers. God in heaven, he was tired of fighting his desire for her. It was exhausting to struggle against something so overwhelming. Like trying not to breathe.
Lillian stared at him earnestly, seeming puzzled by his refusal to comply. "No, no, not like that. Like this." The bottle dropped to the carpet. She reached up to his mouth and tried to shape his lips with her fingers. "Rest your tongue on the edge of your teeth and…it's all about the tongue, really. If you're agile with your tongue, you'll be a very, very good" - she was temporarily interrupted as he covered her mouth with a brief, ravening kiss - "whistler. My lord, I can't talk when you - " He fitted his mouth to hers again, devouring the sweet brandied taste of her. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Don't give me some stupid lecture about war when the person we're talking about losing is you!" I said, surprised by the savagery in my tone. At least my voice didn't shake.
His face blurred and I tasted salt on my lips. It was warm, warm like Pritkin's hands coming up and framing my face, his thumbs brushing over my eyelids, soft as his fingers in my hair. "One person is not so important in the scheme of things", he said, and his voice was gentle, gentle when it never was, and that almost broke me.
But you are important, I thought. And yet he couldn't see that. In Pritkin's mind, he was an experiment gone wrong, a child cast out, a man valued by his peers only for his ability to kill the things they feared. Just once, I wished he could see what I did.
"Then neither is this", I said, leaning in and pressing my mouth to his, the kiss lightened by desperation and weighted down by everything he meant to me. ~ Karen Chance

Men learn to regard rape as a moment in time; a discreet episode with a beginning, middle, and end. But for women, rape is thousands of moments that we fold into ourselves over a lifetime.
Its' the day that you realize you can't walk to a friend's house anymore or the time when your aunt tells you to be nice because the boy was just 'stealing a kiss.' It's the evening you stop going to the corner store because, the night before, a stranger followed you home. It's the late hour that a father or stepfather or brother or uncle climbs into your bed. It's the time it takes you to write an email explaining that you're changing your major, even though you don't really want to, in order to avoid a particular professor. It's when you're racing to catch a bus, hear a person demand a blow job, and turn to see that it's a police officer. It's the second your teacher tells you to cover your shoulders because you'll 'distract the boys, and what will your male teachers do?' It's the minute you decide not to travel to a place you've always dreamed about visiting and are accused of being 'unadventurous.' It's the sting of knowing that exactly as the world starts expanding for most boys, it begins to shrink for you. All of this goes on all day, every day, without anyone really uttering the word rape in a way that grandfathers, fathers, brothers, uncles, teachers, and friends will hear it, let alone seriously reflect on what it means. ~ Soraya Chemaly

Asking Wolf to couples' skate is like bungee jumping without a cord-it may be the bravest thing I've ever done in my life.
Or it could be the stupidest.
There's only one way to find out.
I look him dead in the eyes, summoning up both my courage and my sense of reckless abandon, but before I can even speak one syllable-
"Oh!" he says, looking over one shoulder and dropping his hands. "Kaitlyn's free now. I gotta get over there!"
He rushes off, blowing me an air kiss.
My mouth should get used to falling open when he's around, either from his good looks or from his total lack of comprehension of all things polite. Did that just happen?
My face in my palms, I lean on my elbows against the rail, invisible, and fall into an intoxicating state of self-pity. ~ Alecia Whitaker

Why did you tell me it was just a kiss?" she asked, waiting for her voice to break. "I don't even care about that other girl. I mean, I do, but not as much. Why was your first instinct to tell me that what happened between you and me didn't matter? And why should I believe you now when you say that it did? Why should I believe anything you say? ~ Rainbow Rowell

Surely, cousin, you cannot mean to *jilt* her?' said Anthea, in accents of reprobation.
'Nay, it wouldn't be seemly,' he agreed. 'I'll just have to dispose of her, as you might say.'
'Good God! *Murder* her?'
'There's no need to be in a quake,' he said reassuringly. 'No one will ever know!'
'If only - oh, if only I could do to you what I *long* to do!' exclaimed Anthea. 'If you were but a *few* inches shorter
!'
He said hopefully: 'Nay, don't let that fatch you, love! It'll be no trouble at all to lift you up: in fact, there's nothing I'd like better!'
Furiously blushing, she retorted: 'I didn't mean that I wished to *kiss* you! ~ Georgette Heyer

And it sucks, because I want to kiss her. It's infuriating how perfect it would be to kiss her right now, perched on a cannon on a pirate ship under the stars. That sounds like something off the pages of an adventure novel. But my life isn't one of those stories. My story is a hurricane, and here with Swift is just the eye. ~ Emily Skrutskie

If anyone tells you it's impossible to be fabulous and smart and make a ton of money using math, well, they can just get in line behind you - and kiss your math. ~ Danica McKellar

So it hadn't been wrong or dishonest of her to say no this morning, when he asked if she hated him, any more than it had been wrong or dishonest to serve him the elaborate breakfast and to show the elaborate interest in his work, and to kiss him goodbye. The kiss, for that matter, had been exactly right - a perfectly fair, friendly kiss, a kiss for a boy you'd just met at a party, a boy who'd danced with you and made you laugh and walked you home afterwards, talking about himself all the way.

The only real mistake, the only wrong and dishonest thing, was ever to have seen him as anything more than that. Oh, for a month or two, just for fun, it might be all right to play a game like that with a boy; but all these years! And all because, in a sentimentally lonely time long ago, she had found it easy and agreeable to believe whatever this one particular boy felt like saying, and to repay him for that pleasure by telling easy, agreeable lies of her own, until each was saying what the other most wanted to hear - until he was saying "I love you" and she was saying "Really, I mean it; you're the most interesting person I've ever met." What a subtle, treacherous thing it was to let yourself go that way! Because once you'd started it was terribly difficult to stop; soon you were saying "I'm sorry, of course you're right," and "Whatever you think is best," and "You're the most wonderful and valuable thing in the world," and the next thing you knew all honesty, all truth, was ~ Richard Yates

There's a stereotype of what we are all meant to find attractive and erotic, but I don't neatly fall into those categories. Satin lingerie, a heart-shaped tub, flowers and champagne don't turn me on. You shouldn't be scrubbed clean before you have sex. I hate boys who are frightened of pee and shit and menstrual blood. I say no to boys who want to wake up next to a fully made-up woman. I say no to boys who prefer stockings and garters to perfect nudity. Who wants a boy who won't kiss you when you've just been sick? I want a man who will let me pee in his belly button. I want a man to accept the beast in me. I don't want a man who thinks the woman of his dreams doesn't go to the toilet. One does, you know. ~ Shirley Manson

December 26, 7:40 p.m.
Dear America,
I've been thinking of our first kiss. I suppose I should say first kisses, but what I mean is the second, the one I was actually invited to give you. Did I ever tell you how I felt that night? It wasn't just getting my first kiss ever; it was getting to have that first kiss with you. I've seen so much, America, had access to the corners of our planet. But never have I come across anything so painfully beautiful as that kiss. I wish it was something I could catch with a net or place in a book. I wish it was something I could save and share with the world so I could tell the universe: this is what it's like; this is how it feels when you fall.
These letters are so embarrassing. I'll have to burn them before you get home.
Maxon ~ Kiera Cass

It was just a tiny moment. Not a kiss, not even real contact. But for all the things it wasn't, it meant so much. ~ Sarah Dessen

When you kiss me, Gwyneth, I feel I'm losing touch with the ground. I don't know how you do it or where you learnt the trick of it. If it was from a film, well, we just have to go and see it together." He stopped for a moment. "What I really want to say is, when you kiss me, all I want is to feel you and hold you in my arms. Hell, I'm so in love with you that it feels like someone had emptied a can of gasoline somewhere inside me and set fire to it! But right now, we can't ... we have to keep a cool head. Or one of us, anyway." The look he gave me finally put an end to my doubts. "Gwenny, all this terrifies me. Without you, there'd be no sense in my life anymore ... I'd want to die if anything happened to you. ~ Kerstin Gier

He pressed another kiss to her lips as he took her hand into his. "I'm sorry for being a jerk last night and almost making the biggest mistake of my life. I was afraid of hurting you. I know what I am and I also know you deserve a guy that can spoil you rotten and take you to all the nice places that you deserve. I-"
"Jason, I don't care about those things," she said softly.
He shook his head stubbornly. "It doesn't mean that you don't deserve them, but if you give me a chance to make up for my past stupidity, and I'm not just talking about with you, I promise that I will do my best to make you happy."
"Jason-"
"I want to try this. You and me, I mean. I know I'll most likely fuck up along the way and you'll want to ring my neck, but I want to try. I'll do my best not to hurt you. ~ R.L. Mathewson

I think it's our obligation to play, Honor. It's just a game, so can I kiss you? ~ Robin Bielman

He stepped closer. "Lily
"
"No. Stay back," she said, pointing a finger at him.
He went still. "Why?"
"Because when you come close I do stupid things."
"Like?"
"Like let you kiss me."
"Let me?" He laughed ruefully. "Lily, you just about crawled up my body to get at these lips."
She narrowed her eyes. "Like I said. Stupid. ~ Jill Shalvis

What do you need, Josh? Just name it. Anything. I'm totally here for you.

I knew I could count on you, Hudson. The thing is... I don't know if I'm a good kisser. It's not the sort of thing you can figure out on your own, you know? So I was thinking, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, maybe you could kiss me, everyday for a year, and then you can...

"Hudson? ~ Sarah Ockler

Now, I know I just couldn't wait to see you." He watched Logan's thick lashes sweep against his cheeks as he blinked, and then he leaned over to place a kiss by his ear. "I'm so glad you kept coming back. Did I ever tell you that? ~ Ella Frank

That was the worst word Diane could have said. As soon as she said it, Patty knew she'd been dreading just exactly that. That wedge of possibility - misunderstanding - that could turn this into something. A pat on the head might be a caress of the back might be a kiss on the lips might be the roof caving in. ~ Gillian Flynn

Once the kiss finally broke he dropped his head to Ty's shoulder, turning his face into Ty's neck, and he clutched him tightly, unwilling to let go. Not just yet. Not until the lonely ache that had been building the past four months faded.
Ty gave a little whuff of surprise when Zane clung to him, but he slowly slid his arms around him and hugged him, resting his chin against Zane's cheek. "You okay?" he asked in a whisper.
Zane slowly nodded, waiting a few heartbeats before admitting, "I am now. ~ Abigail Roux

Have you found it different having girls in the house?"
He cleared his throat. "Oh, yeah."
"Would you care to elaborate?"
"Nope."
I looked up from my writing. "If you don't elaborate, it's going to be a very short article."
"Look, I've already gotten into it once tonight--"
"Are you implying I'm hard to live with? Is that why you won't comment further? Because you think I'll be offended? I won't be."
"No further comment."
I sighed, tempted to toss the recorder at him.
"Okay, then, we'll move on. What's been the most difficult aspect of living with us?"
There was silence, but it was the kind where you can sense someone wants to speak but doesn't. Jason was so incredibly still, as though he was weighing consequences.
"Not kissing you," he finally said, quietly.
My heart did this little stutter. I just stared at him as the recorder continued to run, searching for sound. My hand was shaking when I reached over and turned it off.
"But you did kiss me, and you said it was a mistake."
"Because getting involved with you is a bad idea, on so many levels."
"Care to share one of those levels?"
"I'm living in your house. Your parents are giving me a roof over my head. Your mom brings home extra takeout. I'm here only for the summer. Then I'm back at school." He reached up, removed the ice pack from around his shoulder, and set it on the table. "And Mac? After we went to Dave and Bubba's, he comes out to the ~ Rachel Hawthorne

I do not want to date you."
He groaned. "Liv. You've got to be kidding me. I picked up my whole life, drove halfway across the country, and you've changed your mind? It's only been fifteen days since you told me you still love me!"
"Shut up, will you? Will you please just shut up and kiss me again, you big idiot?" With both hands on his face, she molded her lips to his as her heart did a happy dance in her chest. Between kisses, she said, "I want to live with you and marry you and have a family with you and share your life
all the things you said you wanted from me before I ruined it. So no, I will not date you. ~ Marie Force

Go out with me tomorow night," Perry went on. "Let me prove to you that I'm the guy you want."
"I...I guess I coul go out tomorrow night," Miranda sounded shocked and a little swept off her feet.
Then, from the corner of her eyes. Kylie saw something move at the office window. When she looked back, she spotted Burnett and Holiday standing there high-fiving each other. No doubt Burnett was listening to the coversation and sharing the details with Holiday.
Perry nodded, stepped closer, and then pressed a quick kiss on Miranda's cheek. It had to be the most romantic thing Kylie had ever seen.
..."What?" Miranda asked. "You're happy my date [with Todd] wasn't exciting?"
"No," Kylie said. "Let's just say we're more excited about tomorrow night's date."
A bright smile lit up Miranda's face. "Me too. Can you believ Perry did that? I mean, he was so..."
"Romantic," Kylie said.
"Hot," Della added.
"Sweet," Miranda whispered. "I couldn't stop thinkibng about him all night."
And that was the best news Kylie had gotten all day. ~ C.C. Hunter

Sometimes life could be astonishingly efficient in dispensing mortifications. In the space of a minute, she would be exposed before three male visitors to be both freakishly tall and an abominably poor sculptor. What would come next? Perhaps her father would invite the men to count her freckles, one by one. They'd be here until moonrise.
Suddenly, Bramwell was at her side.
"This?" he asked, touching a finger to the model's edge.
She cringed, wishing she could deny it. "Yes, thank you."
As he retrieved the model from the shelf, she stole glances at him out of the corner of her eye. She had to admit, the Rycliff title suited him. Give the man a mace and a chain mail vest, and she could easily have mistaken him for a medieval warrior, squeezed through some rocky gap in the centuries to emerge in modern day. From the sheer size of him, large and solid all over, to that squared jaw, shadowed with a day's or more growth of whiskers. He moved with more power than grace, and he wore his dark hair long, tied back at his nape with a bit of leather cord. And the way he'd looked at her just before that kiss-as though he would devour her, and she would enjoy it-was straight from the Dark Ages.
As he presented the crumbling mess of sun-dried clay and pasted-on moss, Susanna fought the urge to blow dust off the thing. Evidently the maids couldn't reach this shelf, either.
"Isn't it clever?" Her father took the model from Bramwell's hands and held it up. "Susann ~ Tessa Dare

He opened two blouse buttons and traced a line along the top of my bra with his fingertip. He bent his head, brushed a kiss across my breast, and slipped his hand inside my bra. I think I might have moaned a little, and I steadied myself by sliding my hand up the inside of his thigh. It turns out that just because I think I could have a future with Morelli doesn't mean I'm entirely immune to Ranger's hotness. ~ Janet Evanovich

It's taboo to admit that you're lonely. You can make jokes about it, of course. You can tell people that you spend most of your time with Netflix or that you haven't left the house today and you might not even go outside tomorrow. Ha ha, funny. But rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about how you feel more and more alienated from your friends each passing day and you're not sure how to fix it. It seems like everyone is just better at living than you are.

A part of you knew this was going to happen. Growing up, you just had this feeling that you wouldn't transition well to adult life, that you'd fall right through the cracks. And look at you now. La di da, it's happening.

Your mother, your father, your grandparents: they all look at you like you're some prized jewel and they tell you over and over again just how lucky you are to be young and have your whole life ahead of you. "Getting old ain't for sissies," your father tells you wearily.

You wish they'd stop saying these things to you because all it does is fill you with guilt and panic. All it does is remind you of how much you're not taking advantage of your youth.

You want to kiss all kinds of different people, you want to wake up in a stranger's bed maybe once or twice just to see if it feels good to feel nothing, you want to have a group of friends that feels like a tribe, a bonafide family. You want to go from one place to the next constan ~ Ryan O'Connell

I just can't help myself when I'm around you. It's like I can't stop; you're a magnet and I just want to be near you. To touch you. And, after the other night," he pulled back to show me that mischievous grin I loved, "kiss you. Again and again. ~ Stormy Smith