Livia Mchugh Quotes

Damn it. I mean, darn it. I thought the church was on fire. I'm so sorry. How do you clean up holy water? Is it like communion? Do you have to lick it off the floor? Can I help you? ~ Debra Anastasia

I'm not worried about tomorrow. I'm worried about right now, with you, under this Christmas tree." Blake supported her neck as he laid her on the floor.
Livia turned her head. "You'd better convince me. So far you've talked about the dog going to the bathroom, trash, and dirtiness."
Blake kissed her jaw and turned her head gently, kissing her mouth as she bit her lips together.
"Can't I just convince you with my manly ways?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
He could, of course, do just that - but she shook her head. She loved the playful sparkle in his green eyes. His five o'clock shadow just made him more handsome, framing his kissable lips with scruff.
"Okay." He put his fingers at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it gently so he could circle her belly button with his index finger. "You're the sexiest, most beautiful woman on this planet. So sexy, in fact, that I had to have you. I had to make you bear my children because my universe and yours had to be combined. Everything I've ever been needed to be buried inside of you, so deep, so full of love that we created life. Twice."
He lifted her shirt and kissed the tops of her breasts, whispering his devotion into her skin. "And it's never enough. Unless I can hear you coming, I can't think of anything else. All day every day. For years now. You're that powerful, Livia. This. Us. It's so intense that years haven't cured me. I can't stop wanting to make love to you."
"Wow." Livia smiled and pulled ~ Debra Anastasia

He tried to remember the feel of her hand when she'd shaken his. "I'm Livia McHugh. It's nice to meet you."
Smoke poured from the cardboard as he remembered his response. "Blake Hartt. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He'd said his name, but what he'd been thinking was: She touched me. I am someone. I count. ~ Debra Anastasia

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to a ceremony celebrating Blake Hartt and Livia McHugh. Today is not the start of their lives together. It will mark the day we all stood, clapped, and gave good wishes. But their fates were destined for each other long before they even met. True love, the kind that lasts forever, is very rare indeed. It takes compromise, continued growth, and trust."
Cole paused to look from Blake to Livia and back again. "Livia and Blake have a head start on all those things," he continued. "Time has tested them already, asking a fresh love to face terrifying and life-changing tasks. These two had to find and hold onto their love, even when it felt like all was lost. ~ Debra Anastasia

Outside, again?" She teased him.
"You know I love it best when you're wearing nothing but the stars."
Blake wrapped her in his arms and reclined on the grass. She pat his chest gently, loving the tap back from his heart and his white smile. He looked amazing cloaked in stars, too. ~ Debra Anastasia

This was the version of her Blake she'd first met. They reconnected with the fire that had drawn them together and kept them together years later. For him, she would always burn. ~ Debra Anastasia

Dear Livia McHugh
I'll be your husband. I'll be nothing but yours for the rest of forever. A single, simple day with you is something I'll refuse to take for granted. You have been the reason my heart beats since the moment I saw you, long before your hands actually had to do the job for me. Sleep in my arms. Wake up by my side. My beautiful love, be my wife and make me the happiest man. And I will never, ever lose count. Love always, Blake Hartt ~ Debra Anastasia

There. Now as long as I have my arm, I'll remember to stay away from Livia McHugh.
He rolled down the sleeve on his filthy shirt, covering the bloody, freshly tattooed word: Sorry. ~ Debra Anastasia

I'd told the condensed version of my life story so many times over the years that I could recite it without emotion. When I said the words out loud, they felt like they belonged to someone else. ~ Laura McHugh

Why can I not stop talking? Livia watched as Cole set the dripping candles on a small table. If I die of embarrassment, they can have my funeral right here. ~ Debra Anastasia

Are you ready for the tradition, my bride ?"
"Sexmas? I can't wait." Livia wrapped her arms around Blake's neck and kissed him deeply.
During every Christmastime, sometime while the tree was up, they had a date. They'd find room on the living room floor and make love in the splashes of colored light from the tree. ~ Debra Anastasia

We piled into the back of his big red Sun-Times truck: Robertson, McHugh, a bagpipe player, assorted other regulars, and Good Sydney Harris. Good Sydney Harris was a Spanish Civil War veteran, not to be confused with the Bad Sydney Harris, the Daily News columnist. Good Sydney had fallen into conversation with a dominatrix named Jake, who joined us. ~ Roger Ebert

There wasn't a limit he could reach or a line he wouldn't cross in order to make her happy. ~ Gail McHugh

If you wind up falling in love with me." A grin softens his face as he dusts his lips against mine. "Let me correct that. When you fall in love with me."
"'When'?" My question comes out breathlessly, my eyes nearly fluttering closed as he continues, brushing his lips along my jaw.
"Yeah, when," he murmurs, curling his fingers into my hair. "Because even though you think you won't, you will. I'll make it impossible for you not to, but I have a feeling you're gonna do the same fucking thing to me. So we'll be even. Good? ~ Gail McHugh

Was she terribly ravishing in her underclothes?" Livia asked craftily. "Yes," Marcus said without thinking, and then scowled. "I mean, no. That is, I didn't look at her long enough to make an assessment of her charms. If she has any. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Listening and silence are not necessarily the same thing, but silence is a really good start. ~ Adam S. McHugh

... you and I are going to be absolutely scared to fucking death together. No matter what, we'll figure it out. ~ Gail McHugh

The thought of not seeing your eyes when I wake up, or not hearing your heart next to me while you are asleep made me sick. With all of that, I decided no, I can't go another day without you. I don't want to go another day without you ~ Gail McHugh

Tell me, Princess Olivia... why do you have to stay in your tower?"
The soft entreaty made Livia feel as if she were melting inside. She laughed unsteadily, wishing for a moment that she dared to trust him. But the habit of independence was too strong. Shaking her head, Livia approached him, expecting him to back away from the doorway. He retreated half a step, his hands still grasping the edges of the doorway, so that she couldn't help but walk into an open-armed embrace. The bonnet ribbons slipped from her fingers.
"Mr. Shaw-" she began, making the mistake of looking up at him.
"Gideon," he whispered. "I want to know your secrets, Olivia."
A bitter half smile touched her lips. "You'll hear them sooner or later from other people."
"I want to hear them from you."
As Livia began to retreat into the glasshouse, Shaw deftly caught the little cloth belt of her walking dress. His long fingers hooked beneath the reinforced fabric.
Unable to back away from him, Livia clamped her hand over his, while a hectic blush flooded her face. She knew that he was toying with her, and that she once might have been able to manage this situation with relative ease. But not now.
When she spoke, her voice was husky. "I can't do this, Mr. Shaw."
To her amazement, he seemed to understand exactly what she meant. "You don't have to do anything," he said softly. "Just let me come closer... and stay right there..." His head bent, and he found her mouth easily. ~ Lisa Kleypas

The Perspectives of Psychiatry, Paul R. McHugh and Phillip R. Slavney identify four approaches to a suffering person. ~ Joshua Wolf Shenk

We also very importantly recommend continued growth in the Army and the Marine Corps end strength. ~ John M. McHugh

Blake climbed in her passenger seat and pushed his mask up to reveal his face - even with the sun out! Livia kissed him and kissed him and kissed him. When she started her car, she was sure her cheeks would crack from smiling so much. ~ Debra Anastasia

I stared at the ceiling half the night wondering if I could honestly go the rest of my life without kissing these lips ever again. ~ Gail McHugh

Livia felt her cheeks pink up like they'd been slapped. "We worked it out. She knows where things, um, go now." Kill me. ~ Debra Anastasia

The guard station, and the dozen heavily armed guards who manned it, were accompanied by an anti-aircraft gun and a large tank. "What the hell do you need a tank for?" I asked the first guard who wanted to know my name. ~ Steve McHugh

But the fact is, Mr. Chairman, for all the challenges the Postal Service of the 21st century faces, it still retains its traditional place as a key cog in how American businesses conduct their affairs and how Americans all across this land communicate. ~ John M. McHugh

Can I make you something to eat?" She watched his lips for an answer.
"I wouldn't want to trouble you." Blake smiled.
He knows I won't give up. "You're my favorite kind of trouble. Please?" Livia batted her eyelashes and pouted elaborately.
"Yes, tempting Livia, you may feed me. Thank you." He touched her lips with a single finger. ~ Debra Anastasia

Am I the star in this story or you?"
Blake wrinkled his nose and chuckled.
"Was that a bad analogy? I meant we're the star, Livia. Us. This." He shrugged his shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Us being in the same atmosphere is either a great cosmic catastrophe or the most serendipitous rendezvous." Blake pronounced the French word like a closeted foreign language teacher. ~ Debra Anastasia

Damn it, Emily, I want us! You belong with me, not him. ~ Gail McHugh

Livia nodded. Seeing him puttering around in her kitchen, turning on the familiar faucet, solidified her feeling of destiny. She knew, staring at his back, that he would not go hungry again. She would have him, warm and safe, with her every day. It was perfectly clear. She would need to talk with her father. It was time for her to be on her own. ~ Debra Anastasia

Ms. Kyle McHugh, I assume. It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Blake Hartt, and I'm entirely to blame for Livia's clean face. I let the rain wash everything away. Please accept my apology. ~ Debra Anastasia

Staying married to one person was boring. She figured she was too complicated for that. Interesting people had complicated lives. ~ Maureen F. McHugh

Daring to approach the brothers' tension-filled embrace, Livia touched one of Beckett's coiled arms. "Beckett." She waited until his furious face turned toward her mouth. "I still need you. Here. I can't wait for him without you. You promised. I'm not man enough. Remember?"
Livia held her breath.
"You've got your sister," he said quietly.
"Let go of him, Cole. Please." Livia nodded at the puzzle of arms, each with its own agenda.
Cole looked reluctant as he stepped away, keeping his body between Beckett and Chris.
"It has to be all of us. Don't ask me how I know, but I do. We all have to sit here and hope for the best. Pray for the best. Even with that pile of shit right there." Livia didn't have to point; they could all feel pulsating of the evil that was lodged in Chris.
"We have to think about Blake - getting fixed, getting healed, getting back to us. Adding murder to tonight is wrong. It's all wrong. You have to make a different choice. I trust you, Beckett. You can do this."
Livia's earnest words seemed to make Beckett want to curse. His face boiled red for a moment. Only Beckett could hear Livia's gentle breath that pleaded, "Please."
Rather than leaping to action, he rubbed his forehead and took in great gasps of air. Finally, he grabbed her head in a giant hug. "For you, Whitebread. Only for fucking you. ~ Debra Anastasia

The glow of a lamp filled the main bedroom with quiet amber light. The unmistakable rattle of ice in a glass floated to her ears. Assuming that Shaw was in a drunken stupor, Livia went to the doorway.
The sight that greeted her eyes caused her to gasp.
Gideon Shaw was reclining in a slipper tub that had been set near the fire, his head leaning back against the mahogany rim, one long leg dangling carelessly over the side. He held an ice-filled glass in his hand, his gaze arrowing to hers as he took a swallow. Steam rose in veils from the bathwater, condensing on the golden curvature of his shoulders. Droplets glistened on the amber curls of his chest and the small circles of his nipples.
Good Lord in heaven, Livia thought dazedly. Gentlemen suffering the aftereffects of an excess of strong spirits usually looked terrible. "Death's head on a mop stick" was how Marcus liked to describe them. However, Livia had never seen anything as magnificent as an unshaven and unkempt Gideon Shaw in his bath. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Blessed are the generous in love: for theirs is the Love of the Goddess.
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the poor: for they shall inherit the Earth.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after the knowledge: for they shall be enlightened.
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall be loved by the Goddess.
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the avatars of the Goddess.
Blessed are they who are persecuted: for theirs will be the Goddesses' justice.
Blessed are you of the Goddess when the ignorant shall revile you,
And persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for the Goddesses sake. ~ Anna Livia Plurabelle

The listening life is based less on the content heard and more on relationship with the One who speaks. Like Elijah, we can even come to listen for the silences, because God's silences have a different texture to them. His silences are full. When they come, we know that the story is not over. ~ Adam S. McHugh

Never has there been a more wretched hive of scum and villainy,' ~ Steve McHugh

His lips grazed the side of my earlobe, his heavy breathing tickling my neck. "I don't like to share," he said in a low whisper.
I don't like to share either! "Good thing you don't have to. Sammie looks very content having you to herself." I pulled my arm from his hold and smiled. ~ Livia Jamerlan

My stories are of gas chambers, shootings, electrified fences, torture, scorching sun, mental abuse, and constant threat of death. But they are also stories of faith, hope, triumph, and love. They are stories of perseverance, loyalty, courage in the face of overwhelming odds, and of never giving up! ~ Livia Bitton-Jackson

Eager to hear more about the aforementioned behaviors of the ill-bred Miss Bowman, Livia leaned back against the edge of the desk, facing Marcus. "I wonder what Miss Bowman did to offend you so?" she mused aloud. "Do tell, Marcus. If not, my imagination will surely conjure up something far more scandalous than poor Miss Bowman is capable of."
"Poor Miss Bowman?" Marcus snorted. "Don't ask, Livia. I'm not at liberty to discuss it."
Like most men, Marcus didn't seem to understand that nothing torched the flames of a woman's curiosity more violently than a subject that one was not at liberty to discuss. "Out with it, Marcus," she commanded. "Or I shall make you suffer in unspeakable ways."
One of his brows lifted in a sardonic arch. "Since the Bowmans have already arrived, that threat is redundant. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Gavin Blake, you're more of a man than any man I've ever known. You're gentle. You're kind. You're strong and witty. You're personable and warm, and you can reduce most females into blithering puddles of goo with the simplest words. ~ Gail McHugh

In a team setting, leadership is shared by a community of people, which counters the tendency for pastors to form congregations in their own images. ~ Adam S. McHugh

I'm in love with his brother." Saying this out loud to Bea felt like jumping out of an airplane - thrilling and irreversible. In that instant Livia knew her love for Blake was as real as the church walls around her. ~ Debra Anastasia

My heart's no less bulletproof than yours. Believe me. But if you feel like you have nothing, then you have nothing to lose, right? Give yourself a shot at being my . . . different. ~ Gail McHugh