Love Me Now Or Never Quotes

Sorry about the question thing," Butch said to the black robes. "But I just... I'm glad I know what's in my veins. And honestly, if I die today, I'm grateful I finally know what I am." He took Marissa's hand. "And who I love. If this is where my life took me after all those years of being lost, I'd say my time here wasn't wasted."
There was a long silence. Then the Scribe Virgin said, "Do you regret that you leave behind your human family?"
"Nope. This is my family. Here with me now and elsewhere in the compound. Why would I need anything else?" The cursing in the room told him he'd thrown another question out there. "Yeah.. ah, sorry-"
A soft feminine laugh came from under the robes. "You are rather fearless,human."
"Or you could call it stupid." As Wrath's mouth fell open, Butch rubbed his face. "You know, I'm trying here. I really am. You know, to be respectful."
"Your hand, human."
He offered his left, the one that was free.
"Palm up," Wrath barked.
He flipped his hand over.
"Tell me, human," the Scribe Virgin said, "if I asked for the one you hold this female with, would you offer it to me?"
"Yeah. I'd just reach over to her with the other guy." As that little laugh came again, he said, "You know, you sound like birds when you do that chuckle thing. It's nice."
Over to the left, Vishous put his head in his hands.
There was a long silence.
Butch took a deep breath. "Guess I'm not allowed to say that. ~ J.R. Ward

I felt my resolve crumbling. I wanted him, wanted him badly. I needed him too. I almost gave in. I almost told him that there was nothing in the world I wanted more than to be with him. That I didn't think I was capable of leaving him. That he was more precious to me than anything. That I'd give up anything to be with him.
But then he pressed me close and spoke softly in my ear, "Pease don't leave me, priya. I don't think I could survive without you."
My eyes filled up with tears, and shiny wet drops spilled down my cheeks. I touched his face.
"Don't you see, Ren? That's exactly why I have to go. You need to know that you can survive without me. That there's more to life than just me. You need to see this world that's opened up to you and know that you have choices. I refuse to be your cage.
"I could capture you and keep you selfishly to indulge my own desires. Regardless of whether you're willing or not, it would be wrong. I helped you so that you could be free. Free to see and do all of the things that you missed out on all these years." My hand slipped from his cheek to his neck. "Should I put a collar on you? Chain you up so you spend your life connected to me out of a sense of obligation?" I shook my head.
I wept openly now. "I'm sorry, Ren, but I won't do that to you. I can't. Because…I love you too."
I kissed him quickly one last time. ~ Colleen Houck

Never mind about me," she said quickly. "As long as Audrey is happy, that will be enough."
Malcolm stepped closer, shaking his head. "Never let it be enough, lass. People like us, we have to snatch up our happiness as soon as we find it. And not let go."
He lifted her hand to his mouth, his breath burning the skin on the inside of her wrist as he took a tiny bite.
Mary's heart nearly stopped beating. She'd never felt anything like it, the scrape of teeth on sensitive skin, the fire that plunged straight from there to the join of her legs.
Malcolm looked at her, his mouth still at her wrist, the wickedness in his eyes stealing what was left on her breath. He took another little bite, then another. He worked his way up her arm until he stopped by the lace at her elbow.
Malcolm lifted his head. He transferred his fingertips to her cheek, caressing there before he skimmed down her throat to the tops of her breasts. He stood so close now that the rise of his chest touched hers.
Just when Mary thought he would stop, finished, Malcolm leaned to take his lips along the path his fingers had- cheek, throat, breasts. Mary's head went back, her body rising to his mouth, whether she willed it or no.
"You'll ruin me," she whispered.
Malcolm studied her, his amber-colored gaze intense. "Marry me, lass, and I'll ruin ye every day. ~ Jennifer Ashley

people used to tell me that i had beautiful hands
told me so often, in fact, that one day i started to believe them until i asked my photographer father, "hey daddy could i be a hand model"

to which he said no way,

i dont remember the reason he gave me and i wouldve been upset,

but there were far too many stuffed animals to hold
too many homework assignment to write,
too many boys to wave at
too many years to grow,

we used to have a game, my dad and i about holding hands cus we held hands everywhere, and every time either he or i would whisper a great
big number to the other, pretending that we were keeping track of how many times we had held hands that we were sure, this one had to be 8 million 2 thousand 7 hundred and fifty three.

hands learn more than minds do,
hands learn how to hold other hands,
how to grip pencils and mold poetry,
how to tickle pianos and dribble a basketball,
and grip the handles of a bicycle
how to hold old people, and touch babies ,
i love hands like i love people,

they're the maps and compasses in which we navigate our way through life, some people read palms to tell your future,

but i read hands to tell your past,
each scar marks the story worth telling,
each calloused palm,
each cracked knuckle is a missed punch
or years in a factory,

now ive seen middle eastern hands cl ~ Sarah Kay

Tirian, with his head against Jewel's flank, slept as soundly as if he were in his royal bed at Cair Paravel, till the sound of a gong beating awoke him and he sat up and saw that there was firelight on the far side of the stable and knew that the hour had come. "Kiss me, Jewel," he said. "For certainly this is our last night on earth. And if ever I offended against you in any matter great or small, forgive me now."
"Dear King," said the Unicorn, "I could almost wish you had, so that I might forgive it. Farewell. We have known great joys together. If Aslan gave me my choice I would choose no other life than the life I have had and no other death than the one we go to. ~ C.S. Lewis

Did that really happen?" said Maggie White. She was a dull person, but a sensational invitation to make babies. Men looked at her and wanted to fill her up with babies right away. She hadn't had even one baby yet. She used birth control. "Of course it happened," Trout told her. "If I wrote something that hadn't really happened, and I tried to sell it, I could go to jail. That's fraud."
Maggie believed him. "I'd never thought about that before."
"Think about it now."
"It's like advertising. You have to tell the truth in advertising, or you get in trouble."
"Exactly. The same body of law applies."
"Do you think you might put us in a book sometime?"
"I put everything that happens to me in books."
"I guess I better be careful what I say."
"That's right. And I'm not the only one who's listening. God is listening, too. And on Judgment Day he's going to tell you all the things you said and did. If it turns out they're bad things instead of good things, that's too bad for you, because you'll burn forever and ever. The burning never stops hurting."
Poor Maggie turned gray. She believed that, too, and was petrified.
Kilgore Trout laughed uproariously. A salmon egg flew out of his mouth and landed in Maggie's cleavage. ~ Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

Someone said once that they'd never heard of a crime they couldn't imagine committing, and I realized then that if I had a daughter and she had a rabbit and that rabbit was alone with me and I was feeling the way I felt right now and I had a way to kill that rabbit and the time to spend killing that rabbit then killing the rabbit was something I could imagine myself possibly doing or at least considering doing or being on the edge of doing. And smearing a husband with the blood wasn't such a far step after that if you had a desire to smear your husband with blood and smearing someone with blood was something I could imagine a situation calling for because there were at least a few people in this world that I wouldn't not like to see smeared with blood - one person being Werner for fucking my plans, for sending me back out into a life with my wildebeest, to figure out a way to live here and I didn't want to do that and I didn't know how to do that and I wasn't sure how I was going to do that - ~ Catherine Lacey

I would sooner geld myself. Drunk. With a dull knife." Sin spoke with a slow, deadly emphasis on each word. King Henry II stood a few feet away from him without the protection of a bodyguard or other courtier. They were alone in the throne room, and no doubt any other man would be cowering before his monarch. But Sin had never cowed in his life, and Henry knew better than to expect such behavior from him now.
Henry's face hardened. "I could command it of you."
Sin cocked one arrogant brow and asked, "Then why don't you?"
Henry smiled at that, and the tension left his body as he closed the distance between them. Their friendship had been forged years ago, in the dark of night, and at the end of a blade pressed deep against Henry's throat. Sin had spared the king's life and since that day, Henry had treasured the only man who had never been awed by his power or authority. Sin answered to no man, be he king, pope, sultan or begger.
But then, there was nothing in life that awed Sin. Nothing in life that commanded him, or touched him. He was completely alone. And he preferred it that way.
"I didn't get this throne by being a fool, Sin. Should I command you to it, I know precisely what you'd do. You'd turn your back on me and head straight for yon door." Henry looked sincere. "God's truth, you are the only man alive I never wish to make my enemy. 'Tis why I ask this as a friend."
"Damn you."

-Sin & Henry ~ Kinley MacGregor

I'm tired of thinking about Agatha. Well, not about her, but about my loss of her. Today I went through some old boxes of mine and found some journal entries I wrote in the second grade. One was about the loss of a girl, the S name on my list, so I'll copy and paste it for posterity:

Today was a bad day. Stephany broke up with me for Tommy. I don't like that slimy Tommy. Tommy is a turtle. I used to like turtles but now I like warm blooded creetures. Maybe Stephany is a reptile disguised as a human jerkface. I won't cry because I am a soldier. Soldiers do not dispense tears. Soldiers kill their enemies. Tommy is my enemy. But the code of the moose says a warrior must eat what he kills. Does this mean I should have eaten my neighbors cat? I will not cry today or ever. I am fearless like my dad. My dad is a superhero. He is courageous and invisible. I haven't seen him in four years. When I see him next he'll probably tell me I am taller. Maybe I will tell him he is shorter. And fatter and balder. Maybe he will appear again and I can be normal. I would very much like to not wear wooden shoes anymore. Cats tongues are rough like sandpaper. Cats must never lick my shoes. Nobody licked my shoes the way Stephany did. I will miss her and her early-onset male pattern baldness. ~ Jarod Kintz

Helen,
You ask if I regret our engagement.
No. I regret every minute that you're out of my sight. I regret every step that doesn't bring me closer to you.
My last thought each night is that you should be in my arms. There is no peace or pleasure in my empty bed, where I sleep with you only in dreams and wake to curse the dawn.
If I had the right, I would forbid you to go anywhere without me. Not out of selfishness, but because being apart from you is like trying to live without breathing.
Think on that. You've stolen my very breath, cariad. And now I'm left to count the days until I take it back from you, kiss by kiss.
Winterborne ~ Lisa Kleypas

You really do love him, don't you?" she said quietly.
Vadim blinked, then looked to the side, without seeing colours and patterns, but it helped him find words. Speaking about love without cliché, without borrowing somebody else's well-worn words that were too comfortable. "Dan changed me in ways that stripped away the man I wanted to be, and the man I was made to be, and the man I was expected to be. He skinned me alive, and left only…..somebody who…." He breathed but barely. "…can live and die now, like a human being, not an automation, not somebody else's creation. Dan took my fear of death. I can't die now. I know I'm immortal."

"Immortal?" she said quietly, sitting still. "Your soul? Your being?"

"I don't believe there's anything like a soul. But I believe most people are asleep. They aren't even aware what they are, or that they are alive. And we are all scared to die, so when it happens we scream for our mothers and clutch our guts because we're scared. I'm not. I'm not afraid of death. The only thing I'm afraid of is losing Dan." But if that happens, he thought, Dan might just keep the promise and kill him on the way out. ~ Aleksandr Voinov

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

There are things I need to ask her. Not what happened, back then in the time I lost, because now I know that. I need to ask her why.
If she remembers. Perhaps she's forgotten the bad things, what she said to me, what she did. Or she does remember them, but in a minor way, as if remembering a game, or a single prank, a single trivial secret, of the kind girls tell and then forget.
She will have her own version. I am not the centre of her story, because she herself is that. But I could give her something you can never have, except from another person: what you look like from outside. A reflection. This is part of herself I could give back to her.
We are like the twins in old fables, each of whom has been given half a key. ~ Margaret Atwood

Now listen up - you cannot let a fear of failure, or a fear of comparison, or a fear of judgement, stop you from doing what's going to make you great. You cannot succeed without this risk of failure. You cannot have a voice without the risk of criticism. And you cannot love without the risk of loss. You must go out and you must take these risks.
Everything I'm truly proud of in this life has been a terrifying prospect to me - from my first play, to hosting 'Saturday Night Live', to getting married, to being a father, to speaking to you today. None of it comes easy. And people will tell you to do what makes you happy, but a lot of these has been hard work, and I'm not always happy.
And I don't think you should do just what makes you happy. I think you should do what makes you great. Do what's uncomfortable, and scary, and hard but pays off in the long run.
Be willing to fail. Let yourselves fail. Fail in a place, in a way you would want to fail. Fail, pick yourself up, and fail again. Because without this struggle, what is your success anyway? ~ Charlie Day

Han stroked her hair, shifting his body under her. "Why? What are you afraid of? Thieves or wizards?"
"Both," she said.
"Is it because I‟m not a blueblood?" He asked this matter-of-factly, as if he really wanted to know.
"That‟s the least of it," Raisa said, taking a shuddering breath. "This is just going to lead to heartbreak, and I refuse to have my heart broken again." She looked up at him. "I thought I could play at love. I thought I had the right, same as - as any courtier or a - a streetlord."
He shook his head. "Rebecca, listen, I - "
"But I‟ve found out I‟m not made that way," she interrupted. "I can‟t play this game if my heart‟s not in it. That‟s me personally. I‟m not judging anyone else."
"I see," he said. He tightened his arms around her, brushing his fingers along her collarbone, setting her nerves tingling. "What‟s your heart saying now?"
She wanted to be honest with him, even though she‟d probably pay for it. "I‟m in trouble," she whispered. ~ Cinda Williams Chima

I've never like had a system or a program, I always think that I don't know how to act. I'll adapt to any director because I don't really have a set way that I do things. If a director hires me and says, "I want you to get started right now and do this research, this research, this research and I want you to have every line memorized before you ever show up for the first day," then that's what I'll do. ~ Jennifer Lawrence

Necromancy?" The mantis shook his head. "I have laid a ghost or two, and I questioned one once." He swirled the wine in his cup and peered into it, seeing more in the flickers of firelight reflected there than I would have, I think. At last he said, "Our ghosts are becoming worse, have you noticed? It used to be they were no more than lost souls who had wandered away from the Lands of the Dead, or perhaps never reached them, spirits no worse dead than they had been alive, and frequently better. Such were the ghosts of which my masters told me when I was younger; such, indeed, were those I myself encountered as a young man. Now something evil is moving among them. ~ Gene Wolfe

I went back into my bedroom and knelt at my bed the way I did when I was a kid. I folded my hands and pressed the top knuckle joints of my thumbs hard into my forehead. Dear God. I don't know what I want or who I am. Apparently you do. Um ... that's great. Never mind. You have a terrible reputation here. You should know that. Oh, but I guess you do know that. Save me now. Or when it's convenient. We could run away together. This is stupid. What am I doing? I guess this is a prayer. I feel like an idiot, but I guess you knew that already, too. My sister said that god is music. Goodbye, Amen. I lay in my bed and waited for that thick, sweet feeling to wash over me, for that unreal semi-conscious state where the story begins and takes on a life of its own and all you have to do is close your eyes and give in and let go and give in and let go and go and go and go. ~ Miriam Toews

You've always been so agreeable," he remarked with something of a rueful tone. "I don't understand why you haven't told me to sod off."
She couldn't help but chuckle. "Other than the simple fact that I would never say those words to anyone?"
He glanced at her, eyes sparkling. "Even so. I am humbled by your easy acceptance of me. I behaved abominably toward you years ago and yet you act as though nothing ever happened."
Rose twirled the handle of her parasol. "We cannot change the past, Mr. Maxwell. I reckon I would be a much happier woman if I could. No, all we can do is go forward."
His brow furrowed. "Does that mean you forgive me?"
She laughed again. "Yes, it does. I understand why you had to abandon your courtship after my father's misfortune and I do not blame you for it."
Kellan shook his head. "You are too good."
"No," she insisted with a sharp shake of her head. "I am not." Lord, if he but knew just how not good she could be! Of course, if they were married he'd realize that on their wedding night, wouldn't he? Or could she deceive him and make him believe she was a virgin? It wouldn't be right, but she would do it to spare his feelings, and keep her secrets. "But, I can be practical when the situation calls for it."
"Is that why you're here with me now?" he asked with amusement. "Practicality?"
Rose's smile was coy in reply. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I like giving the gossips something to natter about."
Kellan laughed alou ~ Kathryn Smith

I've no interest in this city. I do not want to live in a curio, Johannes. This is a sideshow! This is something to scare the children! 'The Floating Pirate City'! I don't want it! I don't want to live in this great bobbing parasite, like some fucking pondskater sucking the victims dry. This isn't a city, Johannes; it's a parochial little village less than a mile wide, and I do not want it.

"I was always going to return to New Crobuzon. I would never wish to see out my days outside it. It's dirty and cruel and difficult and dangerous - particularly for me, particularly now - but it's my home. Nowhere else in the world has the culture, the industry, the population, the thaumaturgy, the languages, the art, the books, the politics, the history … New Crobuzon," she said slowly, "is the greatest city in Bas-Lag."

And coming from her, someone without any illusions about New Crobuzon's brutality, or squalor, or repression, the declamation was far more powerful than if it came from any Parliamentarian.

"And you're telling me," she said finally, "that I've been exiled from my city - for life - because of you? ~ China Mieville

Steerpike of the Many Problems," said the Doctor. "What did you say they were? My memory is so very untrustworthy. It's as fickle as a fox. Ask me to name the third lateral bloodvessel from the extremity of my index finger that runs east to west when I lie on my face at sundown, or the percentage of chalk to be found in the knuckles of an average spinster in her fifty-seventh year, ha, ha, ha! – or even ask me, my dear boy, to give details of the pulse rate of frogs two minutes before they die of scabies – these things are no tax upon my memory, ha, ha, ha! But ask me to remember exactly what you said you problems were, a minute ago, and you will find that my memory has forsaken me utterly. Now why is that, my dear Master Steerpike, why is that?"
"Because I never mentioned them," said Steerpike.
"That accounts for it," said Prunesquallor. "That, no doubt, accounts for it. ~ Mervyn Peake

Now, when you shit, as you first sit down, you're not fully in the experience yet. You are not yet a shitting person. You're transitioning from a person about to shit to a person who is shitting. You don't whip out your smartphone or a newspaper right away. It takes a minute to get the first shit out of the way and get in the zone and get comfortable. Once you reach that moment, that's when it gets really nice. It's a powerful experience, shitting. There's something magical about it, profound even. I think God made humans shit in the way we do because it brings us back down to earth and gives us humility. I don't care who you are, we all shit the same. Beyoncé shits. The pope shits. The Queen of England shits. When we shit we forget our airs and our graces, we forget how famous or how rich we are. All of that goes away. You are never more yourself than when you are taking a shit. You have a moment where you realize "This is me, this is who I am". You can pee without giving it a second thought, but not so with shitting. Have you ever looked in a baby's eyes when it's shitting? It's having a moment of pure self-awareness. ~ Trevor Noah

…For many years now, that way of living has been scorned, and over the last 40 or 50 years it has nearly disappeared. Even so, there was nothing wrong with it. It was an economy directly founded on the land, on the power of the sun, on thrift and skill and on the people's competence to take care of themselves. They had become dependent to some extent on manufactured goods, but as long as they stayed on their farms and made use of the great knowledge that they possessed, they could have survived foreseeable calamities that their less resourceful descendants could not survive. Now that we have come to the end of the era of cheap petroleum which fostered so great a forgetfulness, I see that we could have continued that thrifty old life fairly comfortably – could even have improved it. Now, we will have to return to it, or to a life necessarily as careful, and we will do so only uncomfortably and with much distress. Increasingly over the last maybe forty years, the thought has come to me that the old world, in which our people lived by the work of their hands, close to weather and earth, plants and animals, was the true world. And that the new world of cheap energy and ever cheaper money, honored greed and dreams of liberation from every restraint, is mostly theater. This new world seems a jumble of scenery and props never quite believable. An economy of fantasies and moods, in which it is hard to remember either the timely world of nature, or the eternal world of the prophets an ~ Wendell Berry

A few words which he wanted to emphasize were put into brackets or set off by quotation marks. My first impulse was to point out to him that it was ridiculous to put slang words and expressions between quotation marks, for that prevents them from entering the language. But I decided not to. When I received his letters, his parentheses made me shudder. At first, it was a shudder of slight shame, disagreeable. Later (and now, when I reread them) the shudder was the same, but I know, by some indefinable, imperceptible change, that it is a shudder of love- it is both poignant and delightful, perhaps because of the memory of the word shame that accompanied it in the beginning. Those parentheses and quotation marks are the flaw on the hip, the beauty mark on the thigh whereby my friend showed that he was himself, irreplaceable, and that he was wounded. ~ Jean Genet

Now, about that mulatto teacher and me. There was no love there for each other. There was not even respect. We were enemies if anything. He hated me, and I knew it, and he knew I knew it. I didn't like him, but I needed him, needed him to tell me something that none of the others could or would. ~ Ernest Gaines

This election is about the past vs. the future. It's about whether we settle for the same divisions and distractions and drama that passes for politics today or whether we reach for a politics of common sense and innovation, a politics of shared sacrifice and shared prosperity. There are those who will continue to tell us that we can't do this, that we can't have what we're looking for, that we can't have what we want, that we're peddling false hopes. But here is what I know. I know that when people say we can't overcome all the big money and influence in Washington, I think of that elderly woman who sent me a contribution the other day, an envelope that had a money order for $3.01 along with a verse of scripture tucked inside the envelope. So don't tell us change isn't possible. That woman knows change is possible. When I hear the cynical talk that blacks and whites and Latinos can't join together and work together, I'm reminded of the Latino brothers and sisters I organized with and stood with and fought with side by side for jobs and justice on the streets of Chicago. So don't tell us change can't happen. When I hear that we'll never overcome the racial divide in our politics, I think about that Republican woman who used to work for Strom Thurmond, who is now devoted to educating inner city-children and who went out into the streets of South Carolina and knocked on doors for this campaign. Don't tell me we can't change. Yes, we can. Yes, we can change. Yes, we can.
Barack Obama

Hope Obama