Love Locked On The Rock Quotes

Life is all about adjustments and love is, to be sensitive to the needs of the other than your own needs. ~ Henrietta Newton Martin

Sophie, what will you do to help Josh,to save him, to bring him back?" Tsagaglalal asked.
"Anything. Everything." Perenelle leaned forward to place both forearms on the table. Her hands were tightly locked together, knuckles white with tension. "And Sophie, what do you think I will do to help my husband?"
"Anything," Sophie said again. "Everything."
"We will do anything-everything-to help those we love. That is what seperates the humani from the Next Generation of the Elders or those who came before them. That is what makes us human.That is why the race thrives; it is why the race will always survive."
"But that type of love requires sacrifice," Tsagaglalal said slowly.
"Sometimes extraordinary sacrifices..."
The old woman's gray eyes suddenly swam with huge tears.
And Sophie had a flickering memory of a woman-younger, so much younger, but with the same high cheekbones and gray eyes of Tsagaglalal-turning away from a tall golden statue. The woman stopped and looked back, and Sophie discovered that the statue's bright gray eyes were alive and were following the woman. Then Tsagaglalal turned and raced down endless glass stairs. She was clutching a book in both hands: the Codex. And her tears dripped onto the metal surface. ~ Michael Scott

A lobster had been placed on the seat across from her, its black beady eyes locked on hers. I will kill everyone you love, it rasped in lobster-tongue. ~ Krystal Sutherland

And then I went back into my room, locked into a sequence as perfect as a pattern, and I sat down on my great rock throne, invisible to the outside world but palpable beneath me, and from how my face felt I thought maybe I was crying, either because I didn't want to do this or because I did, it was hard to tell and anyway I never would, who would believe me in either case and who would be there to believe me in all cases, it was a puzzle, I had yet to learn the way of the jigsaw, and so I positioned the rifle beneath my chin, it feels cold, like an actual thing in the actual present physical world, OK, there it is, I am here now, and then I lay down on my belly and listened to the rising squall beyond the door. ~ John Darnielle

To live a hard life was to make solid and impregnable every way in, until no openings remained and the soul hid in darkness, and no one else could hear its screams, its railing at injustice, its long, agonizing stretches of sadness. Hardness without created hardness within.

Sadness was, she well knew, not something that could be cured. It was not, in fact, a failing, not a flaw, not an illness of spirit. Sadness was never without reason, and to assert that it marked some kind of dysfunction did little more than prove ignorance or, worse, cowardly evasiveness in the one making the assertion. As if happiness was the only legitimate way of being. As if those failing at it needed to be locked away, made soporific with medications; as if the causes of sadness were merely traps and pitfalls in the proper climb to blissful contentment, things to be edged round or bridged, or leapt across on wings of false elation.

Scillara knew better. She had faced her own sadness often enough. Even when she discovered her first means of escaping it, in durhang, she'd known that such an escape was simply a flight from feelings that existed legitimately. She'd just been unable to permit herself any sympathy for such feelings, because to do so was to surrender to their truth.

Sadness belonged. As rightful as joy, love, grief and fear. All conditions of being.

Too often people mistook the sadness in others for self-pity, and in so doing revealed their own ha ~ Steven Erikson

He hadn't been aware of staring, but when her questioning gaze locked with his, Grey felt as though he'd been smacked upside the head by the open palm of idiocy.
"Is something troubling you, Grey?"
He loved the sound of his name on her tongue, and hated that he loved it. She made him weak and stupid. One sweet glance from her and he was ready to drop to his knees.
It wasn't love. It wasn't even infatuation. It was pure unmitigated lust. He could admit that. Hell, he embraced it. Lust could be managed. Lust could be mastered. And lust would eventually fade once she was out of his care and out of his life. That was the cold, hard, blessed truth of it.
"I was wondering if you were eagerly anticipating Lady Shrewsbury's ball tomorrow evening?" How easily the lie rolled off his tongue as he lifted a bite of poached salmon to his mouth.
She smiled softly, obviously looking forward to it very much. "I am. Thank you."
Camilla shared her daughter's pleasure judging from her coy grin. "Rose has renewed her acquaintance with the honorable Kellan Maxwell. He requested that she save the first waltz of the evening for him."
The fish caught in Grey's throat. He took a drink of wine to force it down. "The same Kellan Maxwell who courted you during your first season?"
Rose's smile faded a little. No doubt she heard the censure in his tone, his disapproval. "The same," she replied with an edge of defensiveness.
The same idiot who abandoned his pursu ~ Kathryn Smith

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

Needless to say he had a newfound respect for that blind vampire.
There were very few things iAm hadn't been able to move in his adult life.
He'd changed a tire while acting as his own tire iron.
Had been known to walk vats of sauce big as washing machines around a kitchen.
Hell, he'd even actually relocated a washer and dryer without thinking much about it.
And then he'd had to lift that truck off his brother about two years ago.
Another example of Trez's love life getting out of control.
But down in the training center with Wrath?
There'd been no budging that fucker. The King had been bulldog-locked on - and the expression on his face? No emotion, not even a grimace of effort. And that body - viciously strong.
iAm shook his head as he crossed that apple tree in full bloom. Trying to budge Wrath had been like pulling on a boulder. Nothing moved; nothing gave.
That canine had gotten through, though. Thank God.
Now, ordinarily, iAm didn't like animals in the house - and he definitely wasn't a dog person. They were too big, too dependent, the shedding - too much. But he respected that golden whatever it was now -
Meeeeeeeeeeeerowwwwwwwwwwwwww.
"Fuck!"
Speak of the devil. As the queen's black cat wound its way around his feet, he was forced to Michael Jackson it over the damn thing so he didn't step on it.
"Damn it, cat!"
The feline followed him all the way into the kitchen, always w ~ J.R. Ward

You, yourself, this whole big drama, it was never more than a jerry rig of presumption and dumb will, and you could just let go. To finally know that you didn't have to hold on so tight. To realize that all your life, all your love, all your hate, all your memories, all your pain, it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room, a dream about being a person. ~ Rustin Cohle

Then Daniel stepped forward and a trumpet sounded, followed by a drum. The dance was beginning. He took her hand. When he spoke, he spoke to her, not to the audience,as the other players did.
"The fairest hand I ever touched," Daniel said. "O Beauty, till now I never knew thee." As if the lines had been written for the two of them.
They began to dance,and Daniel locked eyes with her the whole time. His eyes were crystal clear and violet, and the way they never strayed from hers chipped away at Luce's heart. She knew he'd loved her always,but until this moment,dancing with him on the stage in front of all these people,she had never really thought about what it meant.
It meant that when she saw him for the first time in every life,Daniel was already in love with her. Every time. And always had been. And every time, she had to fall in love with him from scratch.He could never pressure her or push her into loving him. He had to win her anew each time.
Daniel's love for her was one long, uninterrupted stream.It was the purest form of love there was,purer even than the love Luce returned. His love flowed without breaking,without stopping. Whereas Luce's love was wiped clean with every death, Daniel's grew over time, across all eternity. How powerfully strong must it be by now? Hundreds of love stacked one on top of the other? It was almost too massive for Luce to comprehend.
He loved her that much,and yet in every lifetime,over and over again,he had to wait ~ Lauren Kate

Try to leave me, and see what happens. Go to France, go anywhere, and see how long it takes for me to reach you. Not five fucking minutes." He took a few vehement breaths, his gaze locked on hers. "I love you. I don't give a damn if your father is the devil himself. I'd let you stab a knife in my heart if it pleased you, and I'd lie there loving you until my last breath. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Last night I thought I kissed

the loneliness from out your belly button.
I thought I did, but later you sat up,
all bones and restless hands, and told me
there is a knot in your body that I cannot undo.

I never know what to say to these things.
"It's okay." "Come back to bed."
"Please don't go away again."

Sometimes you are gone for days at a time
and it is all I can do not to call the police,
file a missing person's report, even though
you are right there, still sleeping next to me
in bed. But your eyes are like an empty house
in winter: lights left on to scare away intruders.

Except in this case I am the intruder and you
are already locked up so tight that no one
could possibly jimmy their way in.

Last night I thought I gave you a reason
not to be so sad when I held your body like
a high note and we both trembled from the effort.

Some people, though, are sad against all reason,
all sensibility, all love. I know better now.
I know what to say to the things you admit to me
in the dark, all bones and restless hands.

"It's okay." "You can stay in bed."
"Please come back to me again. ~ Donna-Marie Riley

I wouldn't change a moment of the time, good or bad, we've had together since I first turned and locked eyes on you. What a jolt that was through me. I've never recovered.
- Roarke ~ J.D. Robb

You love her, don't you?' [Rob] said to Gabriel.
Gabriel finall seemed able to break their locked stare. He looked away, at the carpet. His face was bleak.
Yes' he said
More than anything,' Rob persisted. 'You'd crawl on your belly over broken glass for her. Easy.'
Yes, damn you,' Gabriel said. 'Happy now? ~ L.J.Smith

Most of us will. We'll choose knowledge no matter what, we'll maim ourselves in the process, we'll stick our hands into the flames for it if necessary. Curiosity is not our only motive: love or grief or despair or hatred is what drives us on. We'll spy relentlessly on the dead: we'll open their letters, we'll read their journals, we'll go through their trash, hoping for a hint, a final word, an explanation, from those who have deserted us--who've left us holding the bag, which is often a good deal emptier than we'd supposed.

But what about those who plant such clues, for us to stumble on? Why do they bother? Egotism? Pity? Revenge? A simple claim to existence, like scribbling your initials on a washroom wall? The combination of presence and anonymity--confession without penance, truth without consequences--it has its attractions. Getting the blood off your hands, one way or another.

Those who leave such evidence can scarcely complain if strangers come along afterwards and poke their noses into every single thing that would once have been none of their business. And not only strangers: lovers, friends, relations. We're voyeurs, all of us. Why should we assume that anything in the past is ours for the taking, simply because we've found it? We're all grave robbers, once we open the doors locked by others.

But only locked. The rooms and their contents have been left intact. If those leaving them had wanted oblivion, there was always fire. ~ Margaret Atwood

She pushed him away from her. The rain swept over her face as she lifted her emerald eyes filled with laughter to his. "That's it? That's your big apology? I can see you're not going to be a candy-and-flowers man." She set off quickly. "Don't talk to me, you uncivilized maniac. I don't even want to hear the sound of your voice."
Jacques forced back the smile that seemed so ready to curve his hard mouth. Shea had a way of making even dangerous situations seem a game where laughter was always close at hand. She managed to find ways to make his madness, the terrible, unforgivable way he had treated her at their first meeting, seem casual. "Can I put my arm around you?" Even while his eyes scanned, they held a gleam of merriment.
"You're talking. I said don't talk to me." Shea tried sticking her nose in the air, but it felt ridiculous, and she dissolved into undignified giggles.
His arm curved around her slender waist and locked her under his shoulder. "I am sorry. I did not mean to speak when you asked me not to. Turn here. I'm going to have to carry you up."
"Don't talk. You always get your way when you talk." She walked with him a few more yards and stopped, staring up a sheer cliff face that seemed to go up forever. There had been no division between the forest and the rock face to warn her. "Up what? Not that." The dark, malevolent feeling had faded away. Whoever it was no longer was watching them. She could tell.
"I feel another argument coming on." ~ Christine Feehan

The sound of wings flapping pulled me from my moment of relieved euphoria, and I looked up to see a massive black raven standing at the end of the alley. It was roughly the size of a bobcat, larger than any raven I'd ever seen before, and its beady eyes were locked right on me.
Even though the purple light from Sigrún had all but gone out, the light somehow seemed to linger on the bird's black feathers. It titled its head as it watched me, squawking once.
"What do you want?" I demanded, but the raven had no reply. It just flapped its wings and disappeared into the night sky. ~ Amanda Hocking

She had been tied to an incubus, the memory of a love that had been rejected and had had nowhere to go; she had been locked into a dead relationship and now the last dried skin of it had fallen away, like the scab on a wound, and she was free. ~ Alexander McCall Smith

It is now one hour before dawn on a day in Jerusalem. The Dome of the Rock is open: Muslims are praying. The Wall is always open: the Jews are praying. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is open: the Christians are praying in several languages. The sun is rising over Jerusalem, its rays making the light Herodian stones of the Wall almost snowy - just as Josephus described it two thousand years ago - and then catching the glorious gold of the Dome of the Rock that glints back at the sun. The divine esplanade where Heaven and Earth meet, where God meets man, is still in a realm beyond human cartography. Only the rays of the sun can do it and finally the light falls on the most exquisite and mysterious edifice in Jerusalem. Bathing and glowing in the sunlight, it earns its auric name. But the Golden Gate remains locked, until the coming of the Last Days. ~ Simon Sebag Montefiore

How you've always felt?" "I've loved you my entire life," he said, eyes locked on mine. "And I would love you for the rest of my life if you'd let me, Syd. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Laughing,Savannah jumped from her precarious perch on the boulder into the safety of Gregori's arms.
He caught her,crushing her against his chest, sheer elation, exhilaration, rushing through his veins. To feel again was beyond his comprehension, to feel like this, to have such joy in him, was totally unbelievable. He whispered to her in the ancient language, words of love and commitment that he could not find a way to express in any other language. She was more than she could ever know to him; she was his life,the very air he breathed. You worry about the most ridiculous things, he said gruffly, burying his face for just a moment against her neck,inhaling her scent.
"Do I?" she asked aloud,her eyes dancing at him. "You're the one always concerned I'm going to do something wild."
"You do wild things," he answered complacently. "I never know what you are going to do next. It is a good thing I reside in your mind, ma petite, or I would have to be locked up in the nearest asylum."
Her lips brushed his chin, feathered along his jaw, then nibbled enticingly at the edge of his mouth. "I think you should be locked up.You're postively lethal to women."
"Not to women,only to you. ~ Christine Feehan

Stories are all around us, caught in the throats of the strangers you walk past and scrawled on the pages of locked diaries. They're in love letters that were never sent and between the lines of every conversation ever spoken. Just because your story's not written down doesn't mean it doesn't exist. ~ Jodi Picoult

I pace the shallow sea, walking the time between, reflecting on the type of fossil I'd like to be. I guess I'd like my bones to be replaced by some vivid chert, a red ulna or radius, or maybe preserved as the track of some lug-soled creature locked in the sandstone- how did it walk, what did it eat, and did it love sunshine? ~ Ann Zwinger

Making love was a game of echoes. We had shared memories so many times that when I made love to her, I knew exactly how it felt to be Purslane. I could taste and feel her other lovers and she could taste and feel mine, each experience reaching away like a reflection in a hall of mirrors, diminishing into a kind of carnal background radiation, a sea of sensuous experience. I had been a girl once, then a thousand men and women and all their lovers. The stasis field locked on. The Synchromesh took hold. I hurtled into my own future, while my ship ate space and time.

- "House of Suns" by Alastair Reynolds ~ Alastair Reynolds

All our misery comes from wanting at all costs to go on being Tom, Dick, or Harry, year in, year out. This body of ours, this disguise put on my common jumping molecules, is in constant revolt against the abominable farce of having to endure. Our molecules, the dears, want to get lost in the universe as fast as they can! It makes them miserable to be nothing but "us," the jerks of infinity. We'd burst if we had the courage, day after day we come very close to it. The atomic torture we love so is locked up inside us by our pride. ~ Louis Ferdinand Celine

Imagine any problem you have to be a huge, locked door standing in front of you. Now see yourself taking a golden key out of your pocket. You brought the key here with you when you arrived on this planet, but you sometimes forget to use it. See yourself putting it into the keyhole, then watch the door swing open. On the key are inscribed these words, "Unconditional Love." ~ Marianne Williamson

Two birds locked inside a cage, we aren't supposed to last,
And I guess we both could blame it on our past.
But I'm out of excuses if you're done with pretending,
I'm ready to start the story that doesn't have an ending. ~ Kandi Steiner

You love me?" I whispered. He turned slowly to me and the muscle in his jaw kept ticking until his eyes locked on mine. "You lost that guy, respect, you found the strength to carry on. Know this, Tabby, I lost you, it would be sixty years of goin' through the motions. I know that in my dick. I know it in my gut. I know it in my heart. I know it deep down in my goddamned soul. ~ Kristen Ashley

Is that a no?" I said.
"No. I mean.." He struggled for the smile again. "I'm just waiting for the punch line. Something about making it date so I need to pay. Or you expecting flowers. Or.." He trailed off.
"There isn't a punch line," I said.
I rose onto my knees and inched over, in front of him. Then I stopped about a foot away.
"No punch line, Daniel," I said. "I'm asking if you'll go out with me."
He didn't answer. Just reched out, his hand sliding between my hair and face, pulling me toward him and..
And he kissed me.
His lips touched mine, tentatively, still unsure, and I eased closer, my arms going around his neck. He kissed me for real then, a long kiss that I felt in the bottom of my soul, a click, some deep part of me saying, "Yes, this is it."
Even when the kiss broke off, it didn't end. It was like coming to the surface for a quick gasp of air, then plunging back down again, finding that sweet spot again, and holding onto it for as long as we could. Finally it tapered off, and we were lying on the picnic blanket, side by side, his hand on my hip, kissing slower now, with more breaks for air. until I said, "We should have done that sooner."
He smiled, a lazy half smile, and he just looked at me for a moment, our gazes locked, lying there in drowsy happiness, before he said, "I think now's just fine." And he kissed me again, slower and softer now, as we rested there, eyes half closed.
"So, about Saturday, did you ask ~ Kelley Armstrong

He paused, then, I behind him, arms locked around the powerful ribs, fingers caressing him. To lie with him, to lie with him, burning forgetful in the delicious animal fire. Locked first upright, thighs ground together, shuddering, mouth to mouth, breast to breast, legs enmeshed, then lying full length, with the good heavy weight of body upon body, arching, undulating, blind, growing together, force fighting force: to kill? To drive into burning dark of oblivion? To lose identity? Not love, this, quite. But something else rather. A refined hedonism. Hedonism: because of the blind sucking mouthing fingering quest for physical gratification. Refined: because of the desire to stimulate another in return, not being quite only concerned for self alone, but mostly so. An easy end to arguments on the mouth: a warm meeting of mouths, tongues quivering, licking, tasting. An easy substitute for bad slashing with angry hating teeth and nails and voice: the curious musical tempo of hands lifting under breasts, caressing throat, shoulders, knees, thighs. And giving up to the corrosive black whirlpool of mutual necessary destruction. - Once there is the first kiss, then the cycle becomes inevitable. Training, conditioning, make a hunger burn in breasts and secrete fluid in vagina, driving blindly for destruction. What is it but destruction? Some mystic desire to beat to sensual annihilation - to snuff out one's identity on the identity of the other - a mingling and mangling of identities? ~ Sylvia Plath

I focused on his eyes and really locked onto them. I could feel myself falling into a world of blue that wiped the chills from my body and filled my heart with warmth. The depths I could see in his eyes were far more than any hallucination could create. I recognized them as the eyes I gave my heart and soul to. They were the same ones that gave me Hunter's whole being and never looked back. There was no doubt in my mind this was the man I fell in love with. I was doing it all over again in that very moment. ~ L.J. Kentowski

She leaned forward, her gaze so intense that Helen wanted to look away. "And I love him more for it. Do you hear me? He was a good man when he went away to the Colonies. He came back an extraordinary man. So many think that bravery is a single act of valor in a field of battle - no forethought, no contemplation of the consequences. An act over in a second or a minute or two at most. What my brother has done, is doing now, is to live with his burden for years. He knows that he will spend the rest of his life with it. And he soldiers on." She sat back in her chair, her gaze still locked with Helen's. "That to my mind is what real bravery is."
-Sophia to Helen about Alistair. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Oh, Tatiana wouldn't even consider staying here for a moment," Gideon said. "She has fled to the Blackthorns', her in-laws, and good riddance. She is not a stupid girl-in fact, she considers her intelligence to be quite superior-but she is a self-important and vain one, and there is no love lost between her and my brother. And he had been awake for days, mind you. Waiting in that great blasted house, locked out of the library, pounding on the door when no answer came from my father ... "
"You feel protective of him," Sophie observed.
"Of course I do; he is my little brother." He moved forward and brushed a hand over Gabriel's tousled brown hair; the other boy moved and made a restless sound but did not wake. ~ Cassandra Clare

Lord,I love you truly with all my heart. Every moment with you is precious to me but I would give up even that if it meant peace between our peoples. Nothing else can be allowed to matter so much as that."
Dragon did not reply. He was staring at her very oddly. Of the others, she had no awareness at all. Only he existed for her just then.She felt as though there was no ground beneath her but this time instead of falling as she had off the cliff, she soared frantically, desperately,not knowing if at any moment gravity might reclaim her but soaring all the same.
"What did you say?" he demanded.
"Nothing else can be allowed to matter so much as the peace between our peoples! I understand full well how angry you are. The insult done you was profound,but I beg you,think of what you do.Do you go against my father,he wins!"
Slowly,Dragon shook his head as though trying to clear it. His gaze locked on Rycca's like a man holding fast to the rudder in a mighty storm. A dull flush crept over his high-boned cheeks. "Insult? You think I want to kill your father because he insulted me? For pity's sake, woman, I damn near lost you! Don't you have any idea what that means to me?"
Her eyes widened, never leaving him as he stalked across the stone floor of the Saxon's king's great hall and took firm hold of her by her shoulders. He dragged her up against him even as he near yelled, "Dammit to hell, woman, I love you! What care I for insults? Nothing matters to me save ~ Josie Litton

The sparkling smile became enormous. 'Do you think she has a dagger there? Do you? Ask her, M. Francis? For,' said the most noble and most powerful Princess Mary Stewart, Queen of Scotland, delving furiously under all the stiff red velvet, showing shift, hose and garters, shoes, knees and a long ribboned end of something recently torn loose, and emerging therefrom with a fist closed tight on an object short and hard and glittering, 'for I have!' And breathlessly, flinging back her head, with the little knife offered like a quill, 'Try to stab me!' she encouraged her visitor. There was a queer silence, during which the eyes of Oonagh O'Dwyer and her love of one night met and locked like magnet and iron. The child, waiting a moment, offered again, the ringing, joyful defiance still in her voice. 'Try to stab me! … Go on, and I'll kill you all dead!'

Her throat dry, Oonagh spoke. 'Save your steel for those you trust. They are the ones who will carry your bier; the men who cannot hate, nor can they know love. Send away the cold servants.' The red mouth had opened a little; the knife hung forgotten in her hand.

'I would,' said Mary, surprised. 'But I do not know any.' And, anxiously demonstrating her point, she caught Lymond by the hand. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

Lord, are these your real terms? Can I meet H. again only if I learn to love you some much that I don't care whether I meet her or not? Consider, Lord, how it looks to us. What would anyone think of me if I said to the boys, 'No toffee now. But when you've grown up and don't really want toffee you shall have as much of it as you choose'?

If I knew that to be eternally divided from H. and eternally forgotten by her would add a greater joy and splendour to her being, of course I'd say 'Fire ahead.' Just as if, on earth, I could have cured her cancer by never seeing her again, I'd have arranged never to see her again. I'd have had to. Any decent person would. But that's quite different. That's not the situation I'm in.

When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of 'No answer.' It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, 'Peace, child; you don't understand.'

Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. ~ C.S. Lewis

I love you." She was almost angry. "Do you get it? You. These kids. This life. It is my world."
He nodded. She knew he felt the same way, but this Blake didn't talk, he proved. He found the spot on her body that made her see white and held her until she was desperate for more. Then he reached behind her and turned on the washer.
Dirty. Filthy for her. He kissed her and added tongue, bit her neck gently while the vibrations from the machine increased.
She would come for him like this. He pushed up her shirt and pulled down her panties so he could be inside her when she was lost in the ecstasy of it, of him.
He came right after she did, and she locked him close with her legs, dragging her nails down his back as he bit his lip to stay quiet.
He kissed the top of her head in between gasps for air. He looked in her eyes before responding, "I get it. ~ Debra Anastasia

I think people should have the legal right to hurt themselves without fearing that they're going to get locked up for doing so. But on a personal level, if someone I loved was hurting himself or herself in front of me, I would, of course, try to restrain them. ~ Chester Brown

Make love to me, Syn." Furi turned slightly and Syn captured his mouth in a passionate kiss. He didn't release Furi's mouth as he withdrew to the head of his dick and slowly slid back in, snapping his hips with the last inch. Furi's back bowed at the move. "Yes! Like that!" he shouted. Syn repeated it exactly how Furi liked it, keeping the pace slow and tight. The gentle waves that rocked the boat aided Syn's rhythm. Furi began to thrust his ass back against him and Syn's eyes rolled. "I'm gonna fuckin' come," Syn groaned, his voice sounding tortured, like Furi was killing him softly. "I need to see you." Syn pulled out slowly, gripping the base of his cock. He rose up so Furi could turn over. The look on Furi's face was his undoing. So much love and adoration shone back at him, reflecting his own feelings like a mirror. Furi spread his legs and Syn took one thigh and pulled it up high, wrapping it around his back. He locked eyes with his lover and buried back inside. "Unh. ~ A.E. Via

Winter's head snapped around, away from Scarlet. Scarlet's pace slowed, dread pulsing through her as she, too, heard the footsteps. Pounding footsteps, like someone was running at full speed toward them. She reached for the knife Jacin had given her. A man barrelled around the corner, heading straight for the princess. Winter tensed half a second before he reached her. Grabbing Winter's elbow, he yanked back the red hood.
Scarlet gasped. Her knees weakened. The man stared at Winter with a mixture of confusion and disappointment and maybe even anger, all locked up in eyes so vividly green that Scarlet could see them glowing from here. She was the one hallucinating now.
She took a stumbling, uncertain step forward. Wanting to run toward him, but terrified it was a trick. Her hand tightened around the knife handle as Wolf, ignoring how Winter was trying to pull away, grabbed her arm and smelled the filthy red sleeve of Scarlet's hoodie, streaked with dirt and blood. He growled, ready to tear the princess apart. "Where did you get this?" So desperate, so determined, so him. The knife slipped out of Scarlet's hand. Wolf's attention snapped to her. "Wolf?" she whispered.
His eyes brightened, wild and hopeful. Releasing Winter, he strode forward. His tumultuous eyes scooped over her. Devoured her.
When he was in arm's reach, Scarlet almost collapsed into him, but at the last moment she had the presence of mind to step back. She planted a hand on his chest. Wo ~ Marissa Meyer

The religious man will constantly look for the proof of Heaven and Hell; while the atheist man will constantly look to disprove Heaven and Hell. And they go on like that, locked-head in battle, both battling for beliefs that really cannot be proven. Neither the existence nor the non-existence of Heaven and Hell can be proven. And soon they will all be dead. And nobody will know where they go to, except they themselves who die. And so the battle continues, as it always has. And why should I join either side? If there is a God Almighty, I should imagine Him not needing human beings made out of carbon to believe in Him. What use to God would our species be? If He loves us, then He will love us because He chooses to love us. Never because He needs us to believe in Him. It wouldn't make any difference whatsoever, to an Almighty God, if carbon species breathing oxygen believed in Him or not. If He wanted to love the species then He just would. Regardless of their own persuasions. And if there is not an Almighty God, then it would not matter if I joined such a battle, either. Either way, why would I join such a cursed downward spiral? The truth that we do know for sure, is that it is our responsibility and it is in our best interest, to live our lives in such a way that creates Heaven on Earth and puts Hell on Earth far away. ~ C. JoyBell C.