My Feelings About Him Quotes

Then I knew: this wasn't just a passion I felt for my model. My feelings about him had nothing to do with how his looks inspired me; he was far more than a muse. With every stroke of pencil and crayon, I had drawn Will into my heart.
I was in love with him. ~ Sharon Biggs Waller

Nothing about you or Wonderland makes sense. And the 'one abiding truth' is that life was so much easier when I'd forgotten your massive ego and that other world ever existed."
A tremor shifts through his features, first fragile, then severe. His muscles twitch under his T-shirt, sending a tingling sensation through my knuckles. "You want me nonexistent?"

Before I can respond, he steps back and flips the hat from his head. Then he drags off his vest and his T-shirt, dropping them all on the floor at my feet. Once he's peeled off his necklace and bracelets, he stands there facing me in only jeans and boots.

I watch him warily. "W-w-what are you doing?"

"I'm clearing the way for my massive ego. ~ A.G. Howard

(Golden Globe acceptance speech in the style of Jane Austen's letters):

"Four A.M. Having just returned from an evening at the Golden Spheres, which despite the inconveniences of heat, noise and overcrowding, was not without its pleasures. Thankfully, there were no dogs and no children. The gowns were middling. There was a good deal of shouting and behavior verging on the profligate, however, people were very free with their compliments and I made several new acquaintances. Miss Lindsay Doran, of Mirage, wherever that might be, who is largely responsible for my presence here, an enchanting companion about whom too much good cannot be said. Mr. Ang Lee, of foreign extraction, who most unexpectedly apppeared to understand me better than I undersand myself. Mr. James Schamus, a copiously erudite gentleman, and Miss Kate Winslet, beautiful in both countenance and spirit. Mr. Pat Doyle, a composer and a Scot, who displayed the kind of wild behavior one has lernt to expect from that race. Mr. Mark Canton, an energetic person with a ready smile who, as I understand it, owes me a vast deal of money. Miss Lisa Henson -- a lovely girl, and Mr. Gareth Wigan -- a lovely boy. I attempted to converse with Mr. Sydney Pollack, but his charms and wisdom are so generally pleasing that it proved impossible to get within ten feet of him. The room was full of interesting activitiy until eleven P.M. when it emptied rather suddenly. The lateness of the hour is due therefore not to the da ~ Emma Thompson

Ready to see your new home?"
Kellan grinned back. "Yes." He sighed. "My new home."
Vic helped him with the jacket and made a silent vow that he'd do everything in his power to keep Kellan safe and happy from then on. The young swan wasn't the only one who never thought they'd find someone who cared that much about them ~ M.M. Wilde

Guy Savelli's role in the War on Terror began when half-a-dozen strangers, within days of one another, contacted him via e-mail and telephone in the winter of 2003. They asked him if he had the power to psychically kill goats. Guy was bewildered. He did not go around publicizing this. Who were these men? How did they know about the goats? He feigned a casual tone of voice and said, 'Sure I can.'
Then he phoned Special Forces. ~ Jon Ronson

She sat there reading; cool, calm and collected. "You could ruin his life with that information," her friend reported triumphantly. The woman sighed, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. "If I did he would never forget me," she replied. "Besides ... I don't care enough about his life to concern myself with what he does with it as long as he doesn't concern himself with thoughts of me." Her friend furrowed her brows. "Why?" she asked. The woman set her book down, leaned forward provocatively and said, "Because then I'd have to think of him too. ~ Donna Lynn Hope

He could not bear to see pain, or sorrow, or misery of any kind; and, if it came under his notice, he was never easy till he had relieved it, for the time, at any rate. But he was afraid of being made uncomfortable; so, if he possibly could, he would avoid seeing any one who was ill or unhappy; and he did not thank any one for telling him about them. ~ Elizabeth Gaskell

Going somewhere?" Tamlin asked. His voice was not entirely of this world.
I suppressed a shudder. "Midnight snack," I said, and I was keenly aware of every movement, every breath I took as I neared him.
His bare chest was painted with whorls of dark blue woad, and from the smudges in the paint, I knew exactly where he'd been touched. I tried not to notice that they descended past his muscled midriff.
I was about to pass him when he grabbed me, so fast that I didn't see anything until he had me pinned against the wall. The cookie dropped from my hand as he grasped my wrists. "I smelled you," he breathed, his painted chest rising and falling so close to mine. "I searched for you, and you weren't there."
He reeked of magic. When I looked into his eyes, remnants of power flickered there. No kindness, none of the wry humor and gentle reprimands. The Tamlin I knew was gone.
"Let go," I said as evenly as I could, but his claws punched out, imbedding in the wood above my hands. Still riding the magic, he was half-wild.
"You drove me mad," he growled, and the sound trembled down my neck, along my breasts until they ached. "I searched for you, and you weren't there. When I didn't find you," he said, bringing his face closer to mine, until we shared breath, "it made me pick another."
I couldn't escape. I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to.
"She asked me not to be gentle with her, either," he snarled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. He brough ~ Sarah J. Maas

Will you do me a favor?" Declan asked.
If he looked at her with those dark, intoxicating eyes, she was likely to do anything he asked.
"Maybe."
"Any more dreams you have, no matter how small, will you tell me about them?"
"Even the ones that star you?" The almost flirty quiestion slipped out before she could stop herself.
A slow grin spread across his fallen-angel face. The man just looked as if he wanted to do wicked things -- and she'd let him.
"Especially those. ~ Katie Reus

The real difference between a man's scientific judgments about himself and the judgment of others about him is he has added sources of knowledge. ~ Edward Thorndike

I'd like to go back and revisit the Flash/Captain Cold relationship, because that to me has been the heart of it all along. My impression is that The Flash is a show about a boy's journey into manhood. For the Flash character, there is a variety of male models presented to him, and Captain Cold is one of them. ~ Wentworth Miller

Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later... that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life. ~Tom Wolfe ~ Tom Wolfe

Your sister is really not loving Ms. Rothschild, huh." Peter still hasn't gotten the hang of calling Ms. Rothschild Trina, and he likely never will. In our neighborhood, none of the kids growing up called the adults by their first names. Everyone was Miss or Mrs. or Mr., except for Daddy, who was Dr.
"I wouldn't say Gogo dislikes Trina," I say. "She likes her; she just isn't used to her yet. You know how Trina is."
"True," he says. "I also know how your sister is. It took her forever to warm up to me."
"It wasn't forever. You're just used to people liking you from the very first minute they meet you." I give him a sidelong look. "Because you're so very charming." He scowls, because I don't say it like a compliment. "Gogo doesn't care about charm. She cares about real."
"Well, now she loves me," he says, all confidence. When I don't answer right away, he says, "Right? Doesn't she?"
I laugh. "She does. ~ Jenny Han

About Thomas Hobbes: He was 40 years old before he looked on geometry; which happened accidentally. Being in a gentleman's library, Euclid's Elements lay open, and "twas the 47 El. libri I" [Pythagoras' Theorem]. He read the proposition "By God", sayd he, "this is impossible:" So he reads the demonstration of it, which referred him back to such a proposition; which proposition he read. That referred him back to another, which he also read. Et sic deinceps, that at last he was demonstratively convinced of that truth. This made him in love with geometry. ~ John Aubrey

We stared at each other for long moments after we were alone, Lahn statue-still, me breathing
heavily before he said in a quiet voice, "Vayoo ansha."
I shook my head and whispered, "Never. For good and always, you have lost me. Na me lapay kah
Lahn. Not anymore."**
I watched him flinch but I didn't care about that either. ~ The Golden Dynasty

Some people stay permanently in my heart! ~ Avijeet Das

The purpose of worship is to please God, and that every word and act in worship creates a witness about God as well as an offering to Him ~ Matthew James Elliott

Sensuality does not wear a watch but she always gets to the essential places on time. She is adventurous and not particularly quiet. She was reprimanded in grade school because she couldn't sit still all day long. She needs to move. She thinks with her body. Even when she goes to the library to read Emily Dickinson or Emily Bronte, she starts reading out loud and swaying with the words, and before she can figure out what is happening, she is asked to leave. As you might expect, she is a disaster at office jobs.

Sensuality has exquisite skin and she appreciates it in others as well. There are other people whose skin is soft and clear and healthy but something about Sensuality's skin announces that she is alive. When the sun bursts forth in May, Sensuality likes to take off her shirt and feel the sweet warmth of the sun's rays brush across her shoulder. This is not intended as a provocative gesture but other people are, as usual, upset. Sensuality does not understand why everyone else is so disturbed by her. As a young girl, she was often scolded for going barefoot.

Sensuality likes to make love at the border where time and space change places. When she is considering a potential lover, she takes him to the ocean and watches. Does he dance with the waves? Does he tell her about the time he slept on the beach when he was seventeen and woke up in the middle of the night to look at the moon? Does he laugh and cry and notice how big the sky is?

It i ~ J. Ruth Gendler

Concealing himself from his father's wrath, behind the barn with wick turned low and his face two inches from the rough sawtooth page, Young Crawford had read of these atrocities in Beadle's Dime Library and fantasized about "calling out" the brutal old man who had sired him, "throwing down" on him with the "hogleg" he wore high on his hip, and blasting him into hell; after which he would go "on the scout," separating high-interest banks and arrogant railroad barons from their soiled coin and distributing it among their victims, or failing that into his own pockets and saddle pouches and living the "high Life" in saloons and "dance halls" where beautiful women in brief costumes admired his straight legs and square jaw and told him of the men who had "ruined" them (he knew not just how, only that the act was disgraceful and its effects permanent), whereupon he sought the blackguards out and deprived them of their lives. There was usually profit involved; invariably the men were thieves who lived in close proximity to their "ill-gotten booty," and didn't it say somewhere in Scripture that robbing a thief was no sin? If it didn't, it should have. ~ Loren D. Estleman

Be it so. This burning of widows is your custom; prepare the funeral pile. But my nation has also a custom. When men burn women alive we hang them, and confiscate all their property. My carpenters shall therefore erect gibbets on which to hang all concerned when the widow is consumed. Let us all act according to national customs.[To Hindu priests complaining to him about the prohibition of Sati religious funeral practice of burning widows alive on her husband's funeral pyre.] ~ Charles James Napier

I submit that God has no wishes about how, or even if, we glorify Him. Allow me, then, Jacob, to love God in my own fashion. Franco's ~ Irvin D. Yalom

The moment I formulated this thought, everything aroud me seemed to droop heavily toward the earth. Outside in the garden, the eaves of the roof dripped rain like beads of weighted glass. Even the mats themselves seemed to press down upon the floor. I remember thinking that I was dacing to express not the pain of a young woman who has lost her supernatural lover, but the pain I myself would feel when my life was finally robbed of the one thing I cared most deeply about. I found myself thinking,too,of satsu; I danced the bitterness of our eternal separation.By the end I felt almost overcome with grief; but I certainly wasn't prepared for what I saw when I turned to look at the Chairman.He was sitting at the near corner of the table so that, as it happened, no one but me could see him. I thought he wore an expression of astonishment at first, because his eyes were so wide. But just as his mouth sometimes twitched when he tried not to smile, now I could see it twitching under the strain of a different emotion. I couldn't be sure, but I had to impression his eyes were heavy with tears. He looked toward the door, pretending to scratch the side of his nose so he cold wipe a finger in the corner of his eye; and he smoothed his eyebrows as if the were the source of his trouble. I was so shocked to see the Chairman in pain I felt almost disoriented for a moment. ~ Arthur Golden

Nothing is as it seems,' Ciri replied, blushing again.

'An accurate statement,' said the hermit, while adding another skin to the appropriate lot. 'And how inevitably it leads to the conclusion that we, Ciri, we know nothing about each other. We know only the appearances and they lie.'

He waited a moment, but Ciri did not hasten to say anything.

'Although we both have succeeded in making a preliminary inquiry, we still don't know anything. I do not know who you are, you do not know who I am…'

This time he deliberately waited. She looked at him and her eyes burned with the question he was expecting. Her eyes flashed when she asked:

'Who will start? ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Well, let's just hope it doesn't come to that." I started back down the alley. "Truthfully, it's not you I'm so much worried about as your ass. It's like the Eighth Wonder of the World or something. Be a shame to deprive future generations of Dreamers, don't you think?" My stomach rumbled. "Come on, I'm starving." A snort escaped him. "Nice to know you care." I patted my belly and shrugged. "Yeah, well. A girl's gotta have priorities. ~ Allison Pang

Ooh!" Willy pipes up. "Maybe he'll write a story about Santa and Mrs. Claus getting caught with their pants down with other people. If we get lucky, maybe he'll kill-"

"Don't finish that sentence, elf."

"Randy, you're such a spoilsport. You can't say you haven't conjured up that scenario in your big head a time or a dozen. Continue. Maybe I'll write that story."

"No, you won't. Your idea of a good story is nothing but sex, sex, and more sex. You'd never make it through writing a chapter because you'd have to stop and jerk off a half dozen times."

"Ew! Not about Santa and Mrs. Claus. Yuck," Willy comes back at him with a sour look on his face. "That's not even funny, Randy. ~ Candi Kay

I have never been joyful, and yet it has always seemed as if joy were my constant companion, as if the buoyant jinn of joy danced around me, invisible to others but not to me, whose eyes shone with delight. Then when I walk past people, happy-go-lucky as a god, and they envy me because of my good fortune, I laugh, for I despise people, and I take my revenge. I have never wished to do anyone an injustice, but I have always made it appear as if anyone who came close to me would be wronged and injured. Then when I hear others praised for their faithfulness, their integrity, I laugh, for I despise people, and I take my revenge. My heart has never been hardened toward anyone, but I have always made it appear, especially when I was touched most deeply, as if my heart were closed and alien to every feeling. Then when I hear others lauded for their good hearts, see them loved for their deep, rich feelings, then I laugh, for I despise people and take my revenge. When I see myself cursed, abhorred, hated for my coldness and heartlessness, then I laugh, then my rage is satisfied. The point is that if the good people could make me be actually in the wrong, make me actually do an injustice-well, then I would have lost. ~ Søren Kierkegaard

It's not that he was flirting, unless flirting was just about wanting to really see someone. People thought that someone like him - good-looking, young, cool clothes - was going to be dismissive, and when he wasn't, when he was just easy and open with them, they glowed. It was a feeling he tried to re-create a hundred times a day, in every interaction. It also calmed him. If he looked at someone and they looked at him and there was a true connection, no matter how brief, then it meant that he didn't need to replay the encounter anxiously afterwards, trying to find where it had all gone wrong. ~ Jade Chang

No matter what level of instruction Marlboro Man gave me, no matter how many pointers, a horse trot for me meant a repeated and violet Slap! Slap! Slap! on the seat of my saddle. My feet were fine--they'd stay securely in the stirrups. But I just couldn't figure out how to use the muscles in my legs correctly, and I hadn't yet learned how to post. It was so unpleasant, the whole riding-a-horse business: my bottom would slap, my torso would stiffen, and I'd be sore for days--not to mention that I looked like a complete freak while riding--kind of like a tree trunk with red, stringy hair. Short of taking the rectal temperatures of cows, I'd never felt more out of place doing anything in my life.
All of this rushed to the surface when I saw Marlboro Man walking toward me with two of his horses, one of which was clearly meant for me. Where's my Jeep? I thought. Where's my torch? I don't want a horse. My bottom can't take it. Where's my Jeep? I'd never wanted to drive a Jeep so much.
"Hey," I said, walking toward him and smiling, trying to appear not only calm but also totally unconcerned about the reality that faced me. "Uh…I thought we were going burning."
I clearly sounded out the g. It was a loud, clanging cymbal.
"Oh, we are," he said, smiling. "But we've got to get to some areas the Jeep can't reach."
My stomach lurched. For more than a couple of seconds, I actually considered feigning illness so I wouldn't have to go. What can I say? I wondered. Tha ~ Ree Drummond

We drove a couple of miles to a pasture near his parents' house and met up with the other early risers. I rode along with one of the older cowboys in the feed truck while the rest of the crew followed the herd on horseback, all the while enjoying the perfect view of Marlboro Man out the passenger-side window. I watched as he darted and weaved in the herd, shifting his body weight and posture to nonverbally communicate to his loyal horse, Blue, how far to move from the left or to the right. I breathed in slowly, feeling a sudden burst of inexplicable pride. There was something about watching my husband--the man I was crazy in love with--riding his horse across the tallgrass prairie. It was more than the physical appeal, more than the sexiness of his chaps-cloaked body in the saddle. It was seeing him do something he loved, something he was so good at doing.
I took a hundred photos in my mind. I never wanted to forget it as long as I lived. ~ Ree Drummond

The feeling of an unbridgeable gulf between consciousness and brain-process:When does this feeling occur in the present case?It is when I (for example) turn my attention in a particular way on to my own consciousness, and, astonished, say to myself: THIS is supposed to be produced by a process in the brain!
as it were clutching my forehead. ~ Ludwig Wittgenstein

Since I was old enough to understand what a songwriter/producer is, I've had a curiosity about how Max Martin creates what he creates. I wanted to see that happen. I wanted to be there. I wanted to learn from him. ~ Taylor Swift

Society was in a fearful state. When human life was held at so cheap a rate and when brutal courage was at such a premium; when men had no compunction about getting drunk, if rum could be had; when it was no robbery to take all a Tory had, and no murder to hang him; when children grew to manhood who had never spent a month in the schoolroom, and who had never heard a sermon, it was not to be expected that the morals of the people would be high, or their manners refined, or their intelligence considerable. ~ George Gilman Smith

Gator, go wake that woman of yours. I need some answers. We need her to run the computers for us."
"Tonight, Boss?" Gator complained. "I had other ideas." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"We all did. Hop to it."
"What about Sam?" Tucker asked. "His woman is the one who got us into this."
"I'm wounded." Sam clutched his abdomen dramatically and staggered with quick, long strides so that he made it to the doorway in three quick steps.
Jonas coughed, sounding suspiciously like he'd muttered "bullshit" under his breath. Kyle threw a peanut at him and Jeff surfed across the table in his bare socks to try to catch him before he bolted.
"He's in love, boys, let him go. He'll probably just get laughed at," Tucker said. "Do you really think Azami's brothers are going to allow her to hook up with Sam? She's fine and he's . . . well . . . klutzy."
"That hurt," Sam said, turning back.
"Did you get a good look at those boys? I thought Japanese men were supposed to be on the short side, but Daiki was tall and all muscle. His brother moves like a fucking fighter," Tucker added. "They might just decide to give you a good beating for having the audacity to even think you could date their sister, let alone marry her."
"Fat help you are," Sam accused. "I could use a little confidence here."
Kyle snorted. "You don't have a chance, buddy."
"Goin' to meet your maker," Gator added solemnly.
Jeff crossed himself as he hung five toes ~ Christine Feehan

So,I'm curious." Alex dragged me from my pleasant contemplation of cowardice and back in the bathroom. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his feet almost touching mine. "What is it you like so much about this guy? I looked up his stuff. It's good, but nothing out of the ordinary."
What a difference a week and a shock to the ideals makes. I felt my defense of Edward sticking a little in my troat. "I like his portraits. He really saw people.It was his great strength, that intensity."
Alex tilted his chin toward the picture. "Not to seem crude, but she could be any girl with a nice ass." When I glared at him, he uncrossed his arms quickly and held up his hands in surrender. "Hey,all I mean is that if I were all about really seeing someone, that's not the angle I would choose."
He was probably right. No matter how I looked at it, he was probably right. "You're probably right," I told him.
He bowed. The small space suddenly got a lot smaller. "Stick with me, Grasshopper. I will never lead you wrong. ~ Melissa Jensen

He was a man obsessed. He didn't think Columbia understood how obsessed he had become with her in such a short time. He supposed all signs pointed to it, and if the myriad of daytime talk shows he'd rotted his brain with from time to time were correct, he could be accused of being codependent or falling to fast.

But he was falling, he fell. He could feel her in his bones, his marrow, his blood…his cock. Every time he thought about how close he had come to killing her, he wanted to tear at his flesh and howl at his near self-destruction, for if she were gone from him now it would be an act against himself. ~ Jaden Wilkes

Only on the surface, it seems to me. The only true atheists I've ever met were people in revolt. It wasn't enough for them to coldly deny the existence of God - they had to refuse it, like Bakunin: 'Even if God existed, it would be necessary to abolish him.' They were atheists like Kirilov in The Possessed. They rejected God because they wanted to put man in his place. They were humanists, with lofty ideas about human liberty, human dignity. I don't suppose you recognize yourself in this description. ~ Michel Houellebecq

You better have kissed him! You better have kissed him so hard that he just about choked on your tongue. And if not, you better go kiss him like that right now. ~ Holly Black

My husband and I have known each other since kindergarten. I had a crush on him in school, but we never dated. Then we saw each other again after high school, and there was something instantly familiar about him. I'm a very shy person and was very closed off. But he allowed me to be myself. And there's a safety in that. ~ Alison Sweeney

You know, I was thinking about my in-laws." I strolled closer, craving his heat. And his scent. And the power that continuously hummed through him like an infinite source of energy. "You know, from your supernatural side? By being married to you, I am Satan's daughter-in-law, Jehova's sister-in-law, and Jesus's aunt by marriage. ~ Darynda Jones

I simply love being me. You have no power to control my feelings because I own my own heart ~ Che Acebido

Obviously, if I was serious about having a relationship with someone long-term, the last people I would introduce him to would be my family. ~ Chelsea Handler

The first question sobbed out by his choking voice, oppressed with emotion, was--
"Where is she?"
They led him to the room where his mother sat. They had told her of her son's acquittal, and now she was laughing, and crying, and talking, and giving way to all those feelings which she had restrained with such effort during the last few days. They brought her son to her, and she threw herself upon his neck, weeping there. He returned her embrace, but looked around, beyond. Excepting his mother, there was no one in the room but the friends who had entered with him.
"Eh, lad!" she said, when she found voice to speak. "See what it is to have behaved thysel! I could put in a good word for thee, and the jury could na go and hang thee in the face of th' character I gave thee. Was na it a good thing they did na keep me from Liverpool? But I would come; I knew I could do thee good, bless thee, my lad. But thou'rt very white, and all of a tremble."

He kissed her again and again, but looking round as if searching for some one he could not find, the first words he uttered were still--
"Where is she? ~ Elizabeth Gaskell

I liked this about Drew: always to the point when talking about business, but always philosophical when talking about life. Attending his birthday party had been a priority since I met him four years ago ~ Penny Reid

Dagmar, really. Annwyl has always been crazy. All you've been doing the last few years is muffling it. You've never shut it off. Not completely."
"And did Annwyl just threaten me? Me?"
"She threatens me and Briec all the time. I wouldn't take it too personally."
"That, in no way, makes me feel better!" She stopped in front of him, stamping her foot. "Why are you being so bloody calm about this? Annwyl took out that woman's eyes."
"I'm sure she took them only after she took her head. You know Annwyl does her dismembering in a very orderly way. ~ G.A. Aiken

He might not even be the guy she thinks he is,' Martin says. 'He might be a psychopath.'

'All the psychopaths are on the internet now,' I say.

'Why?'

'More potential for victims, I guess.'

'No, why wouldn't George want to meet him? If she really is so sure about who he is?'

'Scared,' I say. 'She's shy.'

'She doesn't seem shy. She seems hostile and aggressive.'

'It's a cover,' I say, working something out about my sister as I say it.

'Good cover,' Martin says, but I think he's worked it out too because some of the anger's gone out of his voice. ~ Cath Crowley