Nora And Patch Quotes

Patch leaned back against the booth and arched his eyebrows at me. The gesture said it all: Pay up.

"You got lucky," I said.

"I'm about to get lucky. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

And here I thought they were called Peeping Toms." I didn't need to see him to know he wore a smile.
"Stop laughing," I said, my cheeks hot with humiliation. "Get me down."
"Jump."
"What?"
"I'll catch you."
"Are you crazy? Go inside and open the window. Or get a ladder."
"I don't need a ladder. Jump. I'm not going to drop you. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I know something about you isn't right. You haven't fooled everybody. I'm going to find out what you're up to. I'm going to expose you."
"Looking forward to it. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

I don't have the body for this," I quipped, lifting my chin to a voluptous woman nearby who shook her hips zealously to the beat. "No curves."
Jev's eyes held mine. "Are you asking my opinion? ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

I sent Patch a text. GUESS WHERE I AM?
I DON'T HAVE TO GUESS. YOU'RE WEARING THE TRACKING DEVICE, he answered.
I looked down. Sure enough, I'd worn the jean jacket today.
GIVE ME 20 AND I'LL BE THERE, Patch texted. WHICH ROOM SPECIFICALLY ARE YOU IN?
YOUR BEDROOM.
MAKE THAT TEN MINUTES. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

But if the choice I have to make comes down to you or me, I choose you.
I always have.
All my love,
Patch ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

If I asked you to do something for me, I don't suppose you'd listen?" When he had my attention, he continued, "I'm going to take you home. Try to forget tonight happened. Try to act normal, especially around Hank. Don't mention my name."
By way of an answer, I shot him a black look and swung out of the Tahoe. He followed suit, coming around to my side.
"What kind of answer is that?" He asked, but his voice wasn't nearly so gruff. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

I have a free couple of hours," I told him, walking toward my car, which was parked on the next block. "There's a very private, very secluded barn in Lookout Hill Park behind the carousel. I could be there in fifteen minutes."
I heard the smile in his voice. "You want me bad. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

We still have a lot to talk about," I said. "Talk?" He shook his head, his eyes full of desire. Kiss, he whispered to my thoughts. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

I don't have a car."
His eyes sliced into mine.
"I walked here," I explained. "I'm on foot."
"Angel," he said in a way that sounded like he sincerely hoped I was joking. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

My mom's coming home soon," I said. "We should go to your place."
Patch ran a hand across the shadow of stubble along his jaw. "I have rules about who I take there." I was getting really tired of that answer.
"If you showed me, you'd have to kill me?" I guessed, fighting the urge to feel irritated. "Once I'm inside, I can never leave?"
Patch studied me a moment. Then he reached into his pocket, twisted a key off his key chain, and slipped it into the front pocket of my pajama top. "Once you've gone inside, you have to keep coming back. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Do you think they're going to buy that a guy in tacky leather chaps dances like this?" I scoffed when he twirled me back into his embrace.
"Keep it up, and I'll put you in the chaps." He didn't smile, but I sensed an undercurrent of amusement. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Patch's mouth turned grim. "Actually, I don't like the sound of that."
"If it's any consolation, I can't stand Dante. Don't sweat this."
"My girlfriend wants to date another guy, no sweat."
"It's for appearances. Look on the bright side - "
Patch laughed, but the humor was lacking. "There's a bright side? ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

You gave me a key and called it home. ~ Nora Sakavic

The Washington press corps thinks that Julie Nixon Eisenhower is the only member of the Nixon Administration who has any credibility
and, as one journalist put it, this is not to say that anyone believes what she is saying but simply that people believe she believes what she is sayingit is almost as if she is the only woman in America over the age of twenty who still thinks her father is exactly what she thought he was when she was six. ~ Nora Ephron

Fair enough." She lowered her knees, stared down as she buttoned her shirt again. "Ty, I'm really
sorry. I'd never do anything to upset Eli, or to cause trouble between the two of you."
"I know." He pushed to his feet and after a brief hesitation held out his hand to help her up.
"I want to make love with you."
His already jangled system suffered. "I think what we both want's pretty clear. I just don't know
what we're going to do about it. I have to go after him."
"Yes. ~ Nora Roberts

if there is any part of our lives that we haven't turned over to Christ, the devil reminds him, 'No, that one isn't totally yours. I still have this patch of ground here.' "Jesus is totally committed to us. And until we learn to be totally surrendered to him, we'll never find the joy of what it means to fully belong to him. That is the key to every believer's life - full ownership by Christ. Everything we are and want to be belong to him. "The Lord wants to have ownership of your life. If there is anything hindering this from happening, I invite you to come forward now and lay it before Christ. ~ Ravi Zacharias

Plus,he's got a terrific butt.I know becuase I made sure I walked behind him to check it out."
With a laugh, Keeley sat down beside her. "First, you're so predictable. Second, if Dad hears you talk that way, he'll shove the man on the first plane back to Ireland. And third, I didn't notice his butt, or anything else about him, particularly."
"Liar." Sarah propped her elbow on the counter as her sister took out a lipstick. "I saw you give him the Keeley Grant once-over."
Amused, Keeley passed the lipstick to Sarah. "Then let's say I didn't much ie what I saw. The rough-edged and proud of it type just doesn't do it for me. ~ Nora Roberts

As
calmly as she could, she turned away from the cop who was interviewing her and walked toward him.
He grabbed her fast enough, hard enough to knock the breath out of her. Nothing had ever felt so
safe. "I was hoping you'd come. I was really hoping."
"Did you get banged up any? ~ Nora Roberts

You don't want some tacky Vegas fly-by. You're serious. You're serious about friendships, about your work, your family. You're serious about Star Wars, and you active dislike of Jar Jar Binks
"
"Well, God. Come on, anyone who
"
"You're serious," she continued before he went on a Jar Jar rant, "about living your life on your terms, and being easygoing doesn't negate that one bit. You're serious about what kind of kryptonite is more lethal to Superman."
"You have to go with the classic green. I told you, the gold can strip Kryptonians' powers permanently, but
" ...
... "Mkae all the lists you want, Cilla. Love? It's green kryptonite. it powers out all the rest. ~ Nora Roberts

Nicky pulled a protein bar from the mix and passed it to Neil. Neil tried pulling the foil wrapper open and hissed through clenched teeth at the burn in his knuckles. Andrew took the bar from him, ripped it open in one easy swipe, and dumped it in Neil's waiting hands. ~ Nora Sakavic

The smoke burns slightly down my throat and to my lungs. I focus on this, and empty my head, empty the images of Skye's beautiful face all bruised up.
In the end, I can't even give her what she's rightfully asking. A kiss. Just a fucking kiss on her lips. Even that I'm unable to do. It'd be pathetic if our situation and our past weren't so tragic.
I take another drag of my cigarette and watch the smoke swirling in the room only lit by the moonlight. - Duke ~ Stephanie Witter

And I'm not sensitive at all, Philip. Just
mean."
He smiled down at her. "Have you ever considered having an affair with a younger
man?"
She laughed, taking the compliment as it was meant. "You're a charmer. Since you amuse
me, I'll give you a little advice. Charm doesn't work on Addy. Patience might."
"I appreciate it," Philip said. He was watching Adrianne when she lifted a hand to her
throat and found it bare. He saw her instant of surprise and confusion, then the tightly
controlled temper as she zeroed in on him. With a smile he sent her a nod of
acknowledgment. Her necklace of faux diamonds and sapphires was resting comfortably
in his pocket.
The bastard. The low, slimy bastard. He'd stolen from her. He'd lifted the necklace right
off her throat without her feeling a thing but the pumping of her pulse. Then he'd taunted
her. He'd looked right at her and grinned.
He was going to pay for it, Adrianne thought as she tossed her gloves into her shoulder
bag. And he was going to pay for it tonight.
She knew it was reckless. ~ Nora Roberts

I was sitting in my lab, my hand spread open on the table, while the skull examined my palm.

I'd worn a mark there for years--an unblemished patch of skin amidst all the burn scars, in the perfect shape of the angelic sigil that was Lasciel's name.

The mark was gone.

In its place was just an irregular patch of unburned skin.

"It looks like there's no mark there anymore," Bob said.

I sighed. "Thank you, Bob," I said. "It's good to have a professional opinion."

"Well, what did you expect?" Bob said. The skull swiveled around on the table and tilted up to look at my face. "Hmmmmm. And you say the entity isn't responding to you anymore?"

"No. And she's always jumped every time I said frog."

"Interesting," Bob said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, from what you told me, this psychic attack the entity blocked for you was quite severe."

I shivered, remembering. "Yeah."

"And the process she used to accelerate your brain and shield you was traumatic as well."

"Right. She said it could cause me brain damage."

"Uh-huh," Bob said. "I think it did."

"Huh?"

"See what I mean?" Bob asked cheerfully. "You're thicker already."

"Harry get hammer," I said. "Smash stupid talky skull. ~ Jim Butcher

You would keep the people in their hopeless squalid misery? you would fill those infamous prisons again with the noblest spirits in the land? you would thrust the rising sun of liberty back into the sea of blood from which it has risen? And all because there was in the middle of the dirt and ugliness and horror a little patch of court splendor in which you could stand with a few orders on your uniform, and yawn day after day and night after night in unspeakable boredom until your grave yawned wider still, and you fell into it because you had nothing better to do. How can you be so stupid, so heartless? ~ Anonymous

What's the current price for a thought in these days of inflation?" Alan donwered aloud as he paused in the doorway. She'd looked so beautiful, he reflected. So distant. Then she glanced up with a smile that enchanced the first and erased the second.
"That was quick," Shelby complimented him and avoided the question with equal ease. "I'm afraid I admired your tea set a bit too strongly and made your butler nervous.He might be wondering if I'll slip the saucer into my bag." Setting down the cup, she rose. "Are you ready to go be charming and distinguished? You look as though you would be."
Alan lifted a brow. "I have a feeling distinguished comes perilously close to sedate in your book."
"No,you're lots of room yet," she told him as she breezed into the hall. "I'll give you a jab if you start teetering toward sedate. ~ Nora Roberts

Strolled around, here to see and do ~ Nora Roberts

Throughout my childhood, the war was present but unacknowledged, like the heirloom lion's-head tureen stored behind our usual dishware. I understood that THE WAR was a loud and deadly event and that it happened before my parents were born. I knew that my country refused the idea of engaging in war ever since THE WAR. I thought that there was nothing heroic or meaningful about being a soldier, and that preserving peace was paramount. The notion that other countries could still be at war seemed to me like madness. ~ Nora Krug

This creative tension between wonderful and terrible is named so well by Gerard Manley Hopkins, as only poets can. Even the long title of his poem reveals his acceptance of the ever-changing flow of Heraclites and also his trust in the final outcome: "That Nature Is a Heraclitean Fire and of the Comfort of the Resurrection." Flesh fade, and mortal trash fall to the residuary worm; world's wildfire, leave but ash: In a flash, at a trumpet crash, I am all at once what Christ is, since he was what I am, and This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, ~ Richard Rohr

Caroline rose. She studied him for a moment before sitting on his knee.
He wasn't quite sure exactly how it happened. If pressed, he would have asked for three or four hundred pages to write a description of the series of impossibly graceful bendings and movements that ended with her perched there with one hand on his shoulder. He didn't understand - and he was sure that it defied physics - how Caroline could be so light on that tiny patch of his legs, and yet so weighty in the way her presence affected him. Her gaze, for instance, probably clocked in at about fifty or sixty tons, to judge from the effect it was having on him.
He never wanted to move. Never, ever, ever. Let the heat death of the universe come along and he'd be quite happy to still have Caroline Hepworth sitting just like that, on his knee, looking at him without speaking. The tiny light of the shaded lantern was irrelevant. He saw everything, as if it were the brightest of middays.
It was so perfect, so hoped for, that Aubrey knew it couldn't last. He glanced around.
'What are you doing?' Caroline asked very, very softly.
'Looking for whoever is going to interrupt us.'
'That's a pessimistic outlook.'
'Wars, especially, have a habit of ignoring the lives of people.'
'If you follow that through, it suggests living for the moment is best.'
'Live without planning? Without dreams? That sounds rather limited.'
'And that sounds rather like Aubrey. ~ Michael Pryor

I find I use the Internet more and more. It's just an invaluable tool. I do most of my research on the Net now - and certainly do the bulk of my communicating through email. ~ Nora Roberts

Good Timber

by Douglas Malloch

The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.

The man who never had to toil
To gain and farm his patch of soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
But lived and died as he began.

Good timber does not grow with ease:
The stronger wind, the stronger trees;
The further sky, the greater length;
The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
In trees and men good timbers grow.

Where thickest lies the forest growth,
We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold counsel with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife.
This is the common law of life. ~ Douglas Malloch

It's the heart that gets us through the hard times, and gives us joy. ~ Nora Roberts

But mostly I wrote letters of gratitude: the state of rapture I experience when I read a wonderful book is one of the main reasons I read, but it doesn't happen every time or even every other time, and when it does happen, I'm truly beside myself. ~ Nora Ephron

Hester Landon, independent, invincible, indestructible. Who might have died after a terrible fall, if not for a neighbor - and her own indefatigable will. Now she reigned in a suite of rooms in his parents' home while she recovered from her injuries. There she'd stay until deemed strong enough to come back to Bluff House - or if his parents had their way, there she would stay, period. He wanted to think of her back here, in the house she loved, sitting out on the terrace with her evening martini, looking out at the ocean. Or puttering in her garden, maybe setting up her easel to paint. He wanted to think of her vital and tough, not helpless and broken on the floor while he'd been pouring a second cup ~ Nora Roberts

You walked in, and the air changed. It gives you an advantage and you're enough of a challenge.

I'm not trying to be a challenge.

It's one of the things that makes you one. ~ Nora Roberts

When you wait all your life for something and then you find it, it's like a miracle. All the parts inside you that've been on hold, they open up and start beating. You were okay before, you were good. You had purpose and direction and everything was just fine. But now it's more. You can't explain what the more is, but you know, if you lose it, you'll never be able to fill those empty spaces in just the same way again. Not ever. That's terrifying. I'm afraid that what's inside me is just a trick. That I'll wake up tomorrow and what's beating in here will have stopped. It'll be quiet again. I won't feel this way. I won't feel the way I've waited all my life to feel.
I can stand you not loving me back. There's always hope that you will. But I don't know if I can stand not loving you. It would be like ... like having something stolen from inside of me. I don't know if I can handle going back to the way I was. ~ Nora Roberts

The plea agreement negotiated by Janet Reno's Justice Department with Nora, Gene and Trisha Lum is a hoax. It allows two key players in the campaign finance scandal to plead to lesser offenses and effectively concludes a serious investigation that, if taken to a conclusion, could have seriously affected the Clinton Administration's claim that it committed no illegalities in the campaign finance scandal. Nora Lum was a close confidant of Ron Brown and remains close to John Huang. Trisha Lum, her daughter, worked for Brown at the Commerce Department and worked on trade missions. ~ Larry Klayman

With the hug. It's so good to see you. We've got pitchers of tea outside, and plenty of beer. And four bottles of champagne - your mama ~ Nora Roberts

Her heart was aching, and she was lonely. I could understand loneliness. I wished there were more I could do for her, but I wasn't the one she was yearning for, so my help was limited. I was a patch, something to help suppress the sadness. That was okay. At least I was useful. ~ Anonymous

You can not know any better and still know you don't like something" -Ruby ~ Nora Raleigh Baskin

We're okay," he said to the empty hall. "We're going to be okay." The Foxes would be okay, at least, and that was more than enough. ~ Nora Sakavic

Maybe half a dozen think they are a community, but, in general terms, I think English writers tend to face outwards, away from each other, and write in their own patch, as it were. ~ William Golding

I don't kick a man when he's down, unless I'm the one who put him down in the first place. I don't put him down unless he deserves it. And I don't break my word if I give it. So I'll give you my word. ~ Nora Roberts

Are you fixing to stay in this country, then, Walter? After you've dug yourself a patch, and made yourself a pile?'
'I expect my luck will decide that question for me.'
'Would you call it lucky to stay, or lucky to go?'
'I'd call it lucky to choose,' said Moody - surprising himself, for that was not the answer he would have given, three months prior. ~ Eleanor Catton

We go outside.
We rake the leaves.
We pile them way up high.
We jump on top.
We toss them up and watch the colors fly.
What can we do with all these leaves?
I know. I have a plan.
We run inside and find old clothes.
We'll make a pumpkin man.
We button all the buttons.
We tie up legs and sleeves.
We fill and stuff the body with lots of crunchy leaves.
We give him gloves.
We give him boots.
We're having so much fun.
It's time to pick a pumpkin head.
We'll find the nicest one.
Some are short and some are tall.
Some are bumpy.
Some are small.
We look around the pumpkin patch.
We find the best of all!
We cut the top to get inside.
We scoop out all the seeds.
We draw a face and cut it out.
A light is all it needs.
We go outside at sunset, put the pumpkin head in place.
Our pumpkin man smiles back at us with a happy, glowing face. ~ Judith Moffatt

Why are you the worst person on the planet?" she asked. And then Søren answered exactly the way a priest would answer. "Because God made me this way." "God and I are going to have words one of these days," Nora said. ~ Tiffany Reisz

Raphael pulled out a paperback and handed it to me. The cover, done back in the time when computer-aided imagine manipulation had risen to the level of art, featured an impossibly handsome man, leaning forward, one foot in a huge black boot resting on the carcass of some monstrous sea creature. His hair flowed down to his shoulders in a mane of white gold, in stark contrast to his tanned skin and the rakish black patch hiding his left eye. His white, translucent shirt hung open, revealing abs of steel and a massive, perfectly carved chest graced by erect nipples. His muscled thighs strained the fabric of his pants, which were unbuttoned and sat loosely on his narrow hips, a touch of a strategically positioned shadow hinting at the world's biggest boner.
The cover proclaimed in loud golden letters: The Privateer's Virgin Mistress, by Lorna Sterling.
"Novel number four for Andrea's collection?" I guessed.
Raphael nodded and took the book from my hands. "I've got the other one Andrea wanted, too. Can you explain something to me?"
Oh boy. "I can try."
He tapped the book on his leather-covered knee. "The pirate actually holds this chick's brother for ransom, so she'll sleep with him. These men, they aren't real men. They're pseudo-bad guys just waiting for the love of a 'good' woman."
"You actually read the books?"
He gave me a chiding glance. "Of course I read the books. It's all pirates and the women they steal, apparently so they can enjoy lo ~ Ilona Andrews

She was tough in the best sense of the word. She'd taken blows, the disappointments, and had worked her way through them. Some people, he knew, would have buckled under, found a clutch, or given up. But she had carved a place for herself and made it work. ~ Nora Roberts

Certainly the plagiarism, and dealing with the fallout of it, was the most difficult thing I've ever faced since I started writing. ~ Nora Roberts