Say Things To Make Him Want You Quotes

While gently pushing her towards the dressing room, Lazarus ventured, "Can I ask you something kind of personal?"

Pulling her shirt over her head behind the curtain, and holding her hand out for the corset, she replied, "Anything for you, Laz."

"How are you still friends with him?"

"Can you hook this thing?" Holding the corset on her stomach, Lazarus peeked through the curtain, fingers deftly snapping the twenty hook-and-eye latches. "He saved my life. There are a million reasons to hate him, but there are a million and one reasons to forgive him for his faults."

Twisting to look in the mirror, adjusting her breasts in the tight silk, she continued, "He'll say the worst thing at the worst possible time, except every once in awhile, he says the one most perfect thing that just makes you want to cry from happiness. He knows the exact way you need to be touched at any moment, in any mood, like he's fucking telepathic. He'll make you want to scream when he ignores you, but then you find out he knows your favorite color, your favorite meal, what movie makes you cry and he can list every little thing in the entire world that you hate. And mostly? Well," Turning to face Lazarus and strike a pose, "I just can't fucking stop. ~ Shannon Noelle Long

As an actor, when you encounter a psychopathic personality, you naturally want to make him 'bigger than life,' as the Americans say. ~ Antonio Banderas

Because you love him and you miss him. And I'm sure you're dying to tell anyone who will listen about all the things that made him so special. And I'd like to listen, Ashleigh. Because… because I want to make you happy. I want to know because he's part of you and Kate, and I want you and Kate. I'm hooked. I can't even imagine leaving you behind. ~ J.A. Huss

Forgive me," he said tightly. "That was uncalled for."
"It certainly was," Maria said. "She was saying nice things about you."
His gaze shot to her. "She was pointing out, yet again, how I've failed my family."
"If you don't like it," Maria countered, "why don't you stop failing them?"
"Touche, Maria," Minerva said softly.
Gritting his teeth, Oliver turned his gaze out the window, no doubt wishing he could be well away from them all. And as he retreated into himself, Minerva began to tell one story after another about Oliver as a boy.
Maria didn't want to be enchanted by them, but she couldn't help herself. She laughed at the tale of how he'd fallen into the pond in front of Halstead Hall while trying to "charm" fish into the boat the way Indians charmed snakes out of their baskets. She tried not to laugh at the one where he coaxed Gabe into sharing Gabe's piece of cake by claiming that it might have been poisoned, requiring Oliver to "taste it and make sure it was safe."
But the tale about some lad pulling five-year-old Minerva's hair, and Oliver jumping to her rescue by punching Minerva's attacker, made Maria want to cry. The Oliver who'd defended his sister still existed-she glimpsed him from time to time. So where had the other, carefree Oliver gone? His siblings didn't seem nearly as bitter over the tragedy of their parents' deaths as he. Was it simply because he'd been older? Or did something else about it plague him? ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Last night felt good." He chuckled. "Not watching you jerk off, though that was fucking hot, but before that, when you were sleeping between me and Boris. I liked that."
A knot formed in Hans's chest, making it difficult to speak.
"So did Boris," Thomas insisted. "I know he did. Then he started worrying about you getting between me and him. He did what he did because he needed to prove I still belonged to him."
"I already fucking know that!" Hans snapped. He lowered his voice. "I know you have your special things I can't be a part of, like speaking to each other in Russian, and kissing and hugging, and all the things I wish I could do with you…." He stopped himself. He was overstepping again. "I shouldn't have said that. I've only known you guys for like two months. But I like being here. I'm lucky you haven't fired me for what I did last night, considering how much it upset Boris."
He tried to turn pull away, embarrassed, but Thomas wouldn't let go. "Boris and I have things that tie us together - things that do make me his - but despite all that, I think we both want to build something with you too."
Hans huffed out a breath. "I'm not sure how I feel about him now."
"Like I said, there will be bad days. He can't help it, other than to keep taking his meds and going to therapy. He's so much better than he was, when I met him in Russia. You have no idea!"
Hans settled into the embrace, reveling in the feel of Thomas's warm, soft skin. ~ Jamie Fessenden

So you weren't in college."
"I wasn't, no." She takes another sip. "Your father was though. He was visiting for spring break. I mugged him."
"You what?"
"You have to understand I didn't make very much money, even with two jobs. It hardly even paid for my food. I couldn't fish, because-"
"You didn't want anyone to sense you in the water." Otherwise, she could have been pretty self-sufficient.
She nods. "So one day I see this group of cocky college students, spending money left and right. Pulling wads of cash out of their pockets to pay for small purchases, like ice cream." She rolls her eyes. "They were flashing it. They wanted people to know they were rich."
"Doesn't mean they wanted people to mug them," I mutter. ~ Anna Banks

Women often make communication mistakes that undermine their irresistibility and send men running faster than you can say, "Marriage and kids!"
First of all, most of us don't really listen. What we do is judge whether we like or dislike what a man is saying to us, decide whether we agree or disagree with what he's saying, or determine whether we know it already. We also listen to see if what he is saying fits our agenda (like our agenda to have a boyfriend, get married, or have kids). This is not true listening.
True listening happens when you drop those internal conversations in your mind and simply hear what a man is saying to you from his perspective, as though what he is saying is the most important thing on earth and you need to hear every single word. You don't interpret, analyze, or read into it. You don't say, "In other words . . .," and go on to put into words what you think he means. You just take it in.
When you truly listen, you become instantly attractive. By really hearing a man, you make him feel special and cared for in a very powerful way. If there's genuine chemistry between you, he'll continue to share more and more of himself because of how open and receptive you are to who he actually is (not who you are trying to get him to be). I cannot emphasize this point enough. If you really want to make every man want you, become a masterful listener. ~ Marie Forleo

As it shut behind him, Clary reached up and angrily yanked the pins out of her hair. It cascaded in tangles down around her shoulders. "Clary," Luke said gently. He stood up. "What are you doing?" "My hair." She yanked the last pin out, hard. Her eyes were shining, and Simon could tell she was forcibly willing herself not to cry. "I don't want t wear it like this. It looks stupid." "No, it doesn't." Luke took the pins from her and set them down on one of the small white end tables. "Look, weddings make men nervous, okay? It doesn't mean anything. ~ Cassandra Clare

I love you, too, Ophelia. God, loving you is the cruelest, most unkind thing I can do to you, and yet I'm going to do it anyway. Do you know what that means?" I tried to look away again - I was buried under an avalanche of emotion, and I felt as though I would suffocate from it. Sully wouldn't let me hide from him, though. He ducked down, bending so our eyes were locked once more. "Loving you isn't me telling you something we both already know. It's waking up together every morning. It's making love, and arguing and fighting, and dealing with each other's shit. It's walking across hot coals for you. It's protecting you, and keeping you, and honoring you always. There's no half measure in this, okay? So you have to be fucking sure, because once we travel down this road together, there is no turning back. There is no good ol' college try. There's me, and there's you. Forever. This will change me, and it'll change you, too. It's a part of us already. Once we let it overtake us, there won't be any turning back. Is that what you want?" "Is it what you want?" I asked in a small voice. "Don't do that. Own your feelings. You don't need to know what I think before you can make up your mind. ~ Callie Hart

What the hell are you getting so upset about?' he asked her bewilderedly in a tone of contrive amusement. 'I thought you didn't believe in God.'
I don't,' she sobbed, bursting violently into tears. 'But the God I don't believe in is a good God, a just God, a merciful God. He's not the mean and stupid God you make Him to be.'
Yossarian laughed and turned her arms loose. 'Let's have a little more religious freedom between us,' he proposed obligingly. 'You don't believe in the God you want to, and I won't believe in the God I want to . Is that a deal? ~ Joseph Heller

It took me so long to do so many important things. It's just hard to accept that I spent so many years being less happy than I could have been. Jim was five feet from my desk, and it took me four years to get to him. Not that I'm a tragic person; I'm really happy now, but it would just make my heart soar if someone out there saw this, and she said to herself, 'Be strong, trust yourself, love yourself and conquer your fears. Just go after what you want and act fast because life just isn't that long. ~ Pam Beesly

She held up three hangers inside a vinyl garment bag and hooked them sideways on the coatrack to unzip. "Raw silk. Vintage. Sort of a purple-black."
"Aubergine," he declared and cracked the opening wider.
"I love a man who can make colors sound dirty." She grinned.
"Cross-dyed." He wondered if Trip had helped pick this out, if he'd seen her model it and convinced her to splurge. "Great suit."
"I gotta stand next to J.R. Ward. Feel me?" She fluttered her short nails at him. "Baby, I went and bought a pair of Givenchy boots I cannot even afford because the Warden is gonna be there in full effect, and you know what that means!"
He didn't really, but he got the gist. "So you want nighttime for daytime."
"Extra vampy, hold the trampy. Like, more Lust For Dracula than Breaking Dawn." Rina squeezed her shoulders together to amp her cleavage. "If I'm hauling the girls out, no way can I do sparkly anorexia. ~ Damon Suede

You're wearing a bow tie," I said necessarily.
He glanced over at me. "Mom said I had to dress up for this."
I heard a low snort of laughter coming through the open window above the sink.
And I knew.
I stalked over to the window and looked outside.
There, sitting spread out on the grass, were the rest of the Bennetts.
Goddamn fucking werewolves.
"Hello, Ox," Elizabeth said without a jint of shame. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"I will deal with you late," I said.
Ooh," Carter said. "I actually got chills from that."
"We're just here for support," Kelly said. "And to laugh at how embarrassing Joe is."
"I heard that!" Joe shouted from behind me.
I banged my head on the windowsill.
"Maggie," Joe said. Then, "May I call you Maggie?"
"Sure." My mother sound like she was enjoying this. The traitor. "You can call me Maggie."
"Good," Joe glanced down at his card berfore looking back up at my mother. " There comes a time in every werewolf's life when he is of age to make certain decisions about his future."
I wondered if I threw something at him if it'd distract him enough for me to drag him out of the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder out the window. Cater waved at me. Like an asshole.
"My future," Joe said, "is Ox."
Ah god, that made me ache. "Is that so?" Mom asked. "How do you figure?" "He's really nice," Joe said seriously. "And smells good. And he makes me happy. And I want to do nothing more t ~ T.J. Klune

All the novices looked as if they could be blown off their mounts by a stiff wind. He didn't usually allow for second-guessing, but he was about to make an exception. Deciding to go forward with the cattle drive had been about the stupidest idea he'd ever had.
"Ready to go, boss?" Frank asked as he rode up.
Zane let his gaze settle on the two kids, then he shook his head. "No, but we're leaving anyway."
Frank grinned. "Me and the boys are taking bets on who falls off their horse first. You're gonna have to let us know who it is and when it happens for the pool."
Zane pulled his hat down low. For the first time in years, he wanted to be somewhere other than the ranch. Greenhorns. The whole lot of them. Frank and the boys were right. Someone would be tumbling from a horse, and if Zane was lucky, that would be the least of his troubles.
"Have fun," Frank said with an expression that announced "better you than me."
Zane nodded. "I know you're not much for praying, but you might want to put in a good word with the Almighty."
"Sure thing, boss. You're going to need all the help you can get."
Zane nodded. "You'll be able to reach me on my cell phone. We'll be staying within range of the towers."
"I'll be here."
Zane wished he would be, as well.
A sharp whistle warned him that his life was about to stampede out of control. ~ Susan Mallery

And what about us?" Catcher asked.
Gabriel's eyebrows lifted. "You're part of the mystery-solving gang, aren't you?"
Catcher muttered something unflattering, and Mallory nudged him. "I presume you want us to stay here tonight?" she asked.
"It would make things easier," Gabe said.
"So we'll sleep on the couch," Catcher said, "like we're twelve-year-olds at a slumber party."
"In fairness," Ethan said, "we don't all have to sleep on the couch."
"In fairness," Catcher said, "you can kiss my ass."
"Ladies," Mallory said. "Let's put on our big-girl panties. Merit and Ethan are already sleeping in the bedroom, and there's no point in making them move. Catcher and I can take the couch. The shifters will feel better if we make this work, and it's no great loss to any of us. ~ Chloe Neill

If I were a dominatrix I would force my submissive to do my washing up and clean the fridge and brush the cats and whenever he tried to say the safety word ("banana") to make me stop because it wasn't what he wanted I would chuckle softly and say, "No, Gary. That's definitely not the safety word," and I would tighten the leash and hand him a mop and I'd say, "So your wife won't do this for you? That's so sad. Now finish the floors and go pick up my dry-cleaning." It would be ten years later and I'd still have someone to pick me up at the airport and do all the shit I didn't want to do and then on his deathbed I'd say, "Hey, Gary? I was just kidding. The secret word really was 'banana,'" and then we'd laugh and laugh. ~ Jenny Lawson

I can't promise you anything beyond this, Shannon. Hell, maybe nothing will happen. My body isn't like it used to be. But I can make sure you're taken care of." She gave him the sweetest, sexiest smile and looped her arms up around his neck. "John, I'm sure you'll take care of me. I have no doubt. And don't worry about promises. I'm here, number one, because I am your friend. I want the best for you. If I can help you over this hurdle, so to speak, I will." His throat tightened with emotion, and his eyes burned. He buried his face in her hair to keep her from seeing. He had to clear his throat several times before he could talk though. "Thank you, Shannon. We're friends with benefits, now, huh?" She giggled beneath him, and nipped his neck. "I guess so." He ~ J.M. Madden

All that is necessary to be a saint is to want to be one. Don't you believe that God will make you what He created you to be, if you will consent to let Him do it? All you have to do is desire it. ~ Robert Lax

Then, while the other members of my family were waiting in the living room, my mom pulled me aside at the top of the stairs.

"Before it gets too crazy, I need to tell you something," she said...

"Elizabeth, what this man has done is terrible. There aren't any words that are strong enough to describe how wicked and evil he is! He has taken nine months of your life that you will never get back again. But the best punishment you could ever give him is to be happy. To move forward with your life. To do exactly what you want. Because, yes, this will probably go to trial and some kind of sentencing will be given to him and that wicked woman. But even if that's true, you may never feel like justice has been served or that true restitution has been made.

"But you don't need to worry about that. At the end of the day, God is our ultimate judge. He will make up to you every pain and loss that you have suffered. And if it turns out that these wicked people are not punished here on Earth, it doesn't matter. His punishments are just. You don't ever have to worry. You don't ever have to even think about them again. ...

"You be happy, Elizabeth. Just be happy. If you go and feel sorry for yourself, or if you dwell on what has happened, if you hold on to your pain, that is allowing him to steal more of your life away. So don't you do that! Don't you let him! There is no way he deserves that. Not one more second of your life. You keep every second ~ Elizabeth Smart

PS, I want a stripper for my birthday," GQ announces. "Just decided now. Get on it."

"I'll make a couple calls," Garrett promises, but the second his friend wanders off, he confides, "He's not getting a stripper. We all chipped in to get him a new iPod. He dropped his in the koi pond behind Hartford House."

When I snicker, Garrett pounces like a mountain lion. "Holy shit. Was that a laugh? I didn't think you were capable of showing amusement. Can you do it again and let me film it?"

"I laugh all the time." I pause. "Mostly at you, though."

He grabs his chest in mock pain as if I've shot him. "You're terrible for a guy's ego, y'know that? ~ Elle Kennedy

if he can't help but
degrade other women
when they're not looking
if toxicity is central to his language
he could hold you
in his lap and be soft
honey
that man could feed you sugar and
douse you in rose water
but that still could not
make him sweet

-if you want to know what the type of man he is ~ Rupi Kaur

'I'm happy,' David said. 'All the time. It's amazing. I think of you and I want to smile. Do I make you want to smile?'
'No,' Alec said, and kissed him. David could feel the curve of his mouth against his own. ~ Wheeler Scott

He stepped close to her; she could feel his breath on her neck. "Eve, you make me not want to die."
She turned to see his face. "I didn't want to be this, and now it's all I am."
He put his hands on her cheeks. The look on his face did her in. He was kind, caring, and mourning her losses. Tears wet his cheeks. Eve felt a very deep sob choke her. If he was mourning, so could she.
He pulled her into his arms. "Cry. It's okay. Cry."
Eve felt her knees give. He caught her and carried her to his couch. He petted her hair and let her empty her pain and guilt onto his chest. He kissed the top of her head. For the first time, his actions toward her seemed to have no sexual intent whatsoever.
Eve let go of a rope she'd clung to for too long. And she fell. She fell right into him. Wrong or right, she gave up judging. Her lips found his, and he kissed her gently, not demanding any more than she was willing to offer. ~ Debra Anastasia

You asked what my intentions are, Mrs. Brenner, and I would like to answer your question." Dibs opened his mouth as if preparing to argue and she glared at him from across the table. Did he really think not to let her state her case in front of his family? He snapped his mouth shut and briskly rubbed a palm across his forehead before tossing that same hand in the air. "My intentions are these." She gathered her thoughts, folding her hands in her lap. "When David is sad, I intend to make him happy. When he is ill, I intend to make him well. When he is angry or upset, I intend to listen and find the words to make him feel better. When he is depressed, I intend to bring him joy, and when he is hurt, I intend to find the source of his pain and take it away from him." She bridged the distance to Dibs's devoted gaze, and radiant love crested the last barricade surrounding her heart. "You see, Mr. and Mrs. Brenner, I'm in love with your son. But I don't want anything from him. You don't need to worry because my only intention is to give to him. That's the way it's supposed to be when you love someone, isn't it? To think only of their needs, instead of your own?" She broke off from Dibs and faced his mother. "Those are my intentions, Mrs. Brenner. I hope you find them satisfactory. ~ A.J. Nuest

Lady Thornton," Sutherland said in an awful, silky voice that made Elizabeth shake inside, "does the word 'perjury' have any meaning to you?"
"I believe," Elizabeth said, "it means to tell a lie in a place like this."
"Do you know how the Crown punishes perjurers? They are sentenced to gaol, and they live their lives in a dark, dank cell. Would you want that to happen to you?"
"It certainly doesn't sound very agreeable," Elizabeth said. "Would I be able to take my jewels and gowns?"
Shouts of laughter shook the chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceilings.
"No, you would not!"
"Then I'm certainly happy I haven't lied."
Sutherland was no longer certain whether he'd been duped, but he sensed that he'd lost his effort to make Elizabeth sound like a clever, scheming adulteress or a terrified, intimidated wife. The bizarre story of her flight with her brother had now taken on a certain absurd credibility, and he realized it with a sinking heart and a furious glower. "Madam, would you perjure yourself to protect that man?" His arm swung toward Ian, and Elizabeth's gaze followed helplessly. Her heart froze with terror when she saw that, if anything, Ian looked more bored, more coldly remote and unmoved than he had before.
"I asked you," Sutherland boomed, "if you would perjure yourself to save that man from going to the gallows next month."
Elizabeth would have died to save him. Tearing her gaze from Ian's terrifying face, she pinned a ~ Judith McNaught

Committing myself to the task of becoming fully human is saving my life now...to become fully human is something extra, a conscious choice that not everyone makes. Based on my limited wisdom and experience, there is more than one way to do this. If I were a Buddhist, I might do it by taking the bodhisattva vow, and if I were a Jew, I might do it by following Torah. Because I am a Christian, I do it by imitating Christ, although i will be the first to admit that I want to stop about a day short of following him all the way.

In Luke's gospel, there comes a point when he turns around and says to the large crowd of those trailing after him, "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple" (14:26). Make of that what you will, but I think it was his way of telling them to go home. He did not need people to go to Jerusalem to die with him. He needed people to go back where they came from and live the kinds of lives that he had risked his own life to show them: lives of resisting the powers of death, of standing up for the little and the least, of turning cheeks and washing feet, of praying for enemies and loving the unlovable. ~ Barbara Brown Taylor

What are you saying?"
"I want to try."
He wanted clarification on that. "You want to try what?"
There it was, that deep flush. "You know."
Yes, he knew, but he wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily. She was going to be his. For a brief time, she would belong to him and he would have everything he wanted, and he wanted her to start talking dirty. Yes. He wanted to teach her, to train her to accept pleasure so she would expect it. "No, I don't know. You'll have to be plain."
Avery blushed a little. "I want to be intimate with you."
So sweet. So polite. So not happening. "That sounds like you want me to get into my pajamas and exchange secrets with you. I'm not your girlfriend, Avery. Tell me what you want. That's lesson number one. Communication and honesty are the keys to the relationship I want. I need to hear you say plainly what you want."
She hesitated, but only for a moment. He wasn't surprised. Deep in her heart, she was a brave girl. She'd faced so much and still was open with her heart. Damn, but he didn't understand that. "I would like for us to sleep together."
"I'm not very sleepy." He wasn't going to let her get away with anything.
She groaned a little in obvious frustration. "You know that's not what I'm talking about."
"Yes. I do. So say what you want."
"I want to have sex."
"So clinical. I'll have to think about that."
"I want to make love."
"Sweet, but not what I'm looking for."
Lexi Blake

Dom, are you out here?" called a voice from somewhere beyond the stables.
Damn it all. It was Tristan.
Swiftly Dom donned his shirt. "Be quiet," he whispered to Jane, "and he'll go away."
Tristan's voice sounded again, even nearer now. "I swear to God, Dom, if you ride off to London in the dark and make a liar out of me before Ravenswood, I will kick you from here to France!"
"He won't go away," Jane whispered back, a hint of desperation in her voice. "He promised Ravenswood that you wouldn't head for London with broken carriage lamps, and now he'll want to make sure that you don't."
Which meant his arse of a brother wasn't going to stop looking for him. Any minute now, he'd be striding into the harness room.
Then Jane would have to marry Dom.
As soon as the thought entered Dom's head, it apparently occurred to her, too, for she paled and stepped near enough to whisper, "Please. Not like this."
He stared at her ashen face, and his stomach sank. He couldn't force her to wed him. After what had happened between them years ago, she would never forgive him for taking her choice away from her yet again.
Besides, he didn't want to force her into anything. The only way he could prove that he didn't intend to run roughshod over her for the rest of their lives was to walk away now. Even if it killed him.
Bloody hell. "I'll draw Tristan away from the stables," Dom said tersely as he shoved his stocking feet into his boots. "That will g ~ Sabrina Jeffries

He [D'Artangnan] succumbs to her [Miledy Winter] level of seduction and gives into it. It's only when the series starts to progress that he realizes what she's doing, and the tables turn slightly. But that relationship really pays homage to how D'Artagnan can be easily swayed. You see him grow into somebody who can actually make a decision where he's not being used and forced into doing something that he doesn't want to do. ~ Luke Pasqualino

When we make love, it's going to be making love. I want more than just your amazing body, Autumn. I want all of you." She felt him swallow against the top of her head. "I don't know who broke your heart, but I'm going to earn your trust. And we will make love. ~ Evelyn Adams

Clotile said, "Will you finally admit you want that girl for more than revenge?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "Doan matter now though, does it?" There was no way in hell I was ever going to be with her. No way.

I would never kiss her, never take her to bed. She'd never tell me silly jokes and laugh with me. I clenched the throat of my bottle.

Clotile sped up to make a yellow light, then said, "Brandon tried to kiss me last night."

"You're serious?" My half brother was used to getting everything he wanted. He had a girl like Evangeline Greene, his for the taking, and he wasn't true to her. I'd always known he was an idiot - this just confirmed it.

Yet she'd called him twice the man I was.

"I barely wriggled out of his grasp," Clotile said. ~ Kresley Cole

It can be crazy hard. To keep your faith, to keep going. It can be harder than I ever would have imagined. Sometimes things happen to you, really bad things that aren't fair, things that make you feel so terrible you're not even sure who you are anymore or whether you're right or wrong, good or bad. Sometimes you feel like there's no one to turn to, and you're all alone and so scared you can hardly move and so tired you just want to curl up in a ball and go to sleep forever. I guess that's kind of the way Alex felt that last night I saw him. And that's the way I felt now. But I guess I had one advantage over Alex. I guess in some way I'd been training for this time my whole life. I'd been training every day, even in simple things, little things. I trained to keep my mind sharp when I went to school. I trained in karate to keep my body and spirit strong. Even when I just went to church, or when I prayed by myself, it was a kind of training: I was training to remember that I was not alone. I was never alone. ~ Andrew Klavan

See that guy over there?" I nod toward a man in jean shorts and a Budweiser T-shirt. "Am I that obvious?"
St. Clair squints at him. "Obviously what? Balding? Overweight? Tasteless?"
"American."
He sighs melodramtically. "Honestly, Anna. You must get over this."
"I just don't want to offend anyone. I hear they offend easily."
"You're not offending anyone except me right now."
"What about her?" I point to a middle-aged woman in khaki shorts and a knit top with stars and stripes on it.She has a camera strapped to her belt and is arguing with a man in a bucket hat. Her husband,I suppose.
"Completely offensive."
"I mean,am I as obvious as her?"
"Considering she's wearing the American flag, I'd venture a no on that one." He bites his thumbnail. "Listen.I think I have a solution to your problem, but you'll have to wait for it. Just promise you'll stop asking me to compare you to fifty-year-old women,and I'll take care of everything."
"How? With what? A French passport?"
He snorts. "I didn't say I'd make you French." I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. "Deal?"
"Deal," I say uncomfortably. I don't care for surprises. "But it better be good."
"Oh,it's good." And St. Clair looks so smug that I'm about to call him on it, when I realize I can't see our school anymore.
I don't believe it.He's completely distracted me. ~ Stephanie Perkins

Listen, Google,' I will say, 'both John and Paul are courting me. I like both of them, but in a different way, and it's so hard to make up my mind. Given everything you know, what do you advise me to do?'
And Google will answer: 'Well, I know you from the day you were born. I have read all your emails, recorded all your phone calls, and know your favourite films, your DNA and the entire history of your heart. I have exact data about each date you went on, and if you want, I can show you second-by-second graphs of your heart rate, blood pressure and sugar levels whenever you went on a date with John or Paul. If necessary, I can even provide you with accurate mathematical ranking of every sexual encounter you had with either of them. And naturally enough, I know them as well as I know you. Based on all this information, on my superb algorithms, and on decades' worth of statistics about millions of relationships – I advise you to go with John, with an 87 per cent probability of being more satisfied with him in the long run.
Indeed, I know you so well that I also know you don't like this answer. Paul is much more handsome than John, and because you give external appearances too much weight, you secretly wanted me to say "Paul". Looks matter, of course; but not as much as you think. Your biochemical algorithms – which evolved tens of thousands of years ago in the African savannah – give looks a weight of 35 per cent in their overall rating of potential mates. My algorith ~ Yuval Noah Harari

The cache of Christianity is Christ. Not money in the bank or a car in the garage or a healthy body or a better self-image. Secondary and tertiary fruits perhaps. But the Fort Knox of faith is Christ. Fellowship with him. Walking with him. Pondering him. Exploring him. The heart-stopping realization that in him you are part of something ancient, endless, unstoppable, and unfathomable. And that he, who can dig the Grand Canyon with his pinkie, thinks you're worth his death on Roman timber. Christ is the reward of Christianity. Why else would Paul make him his supreme desire? "I want to know Christ" (Phil. 3:10 NCV). ~ Max Lucado

The last werewolf tripped over Raphael Santiago's foot. Alec hastily hit him in the back of the head with the hilt of his seraph blade, and the werewolf stayed down.
"That was an accident," said Raphael, with Lily and Elliott sticking close behind him. "He got in my way as I was trying to leave."
"Okay," Alec panted.
He wiped dust and sweat out of his eyes. Bat the DJ staggered toward them, claws out, and Alec flipped his seraph blade so he was holding the hilt again.
"Someone dropped a piece of roof on me," Bat told him, blinking in a way that was more owlish than wolfish. "Inconsiderate."
Alec realized Bat was not so much on a murderous out-of-control rampage as mildly concussed.
"Easy there," he said, as Bat tumbled against his chest.
He looked around for the most trustworthy person, for someone to be on his team. He took a gamble and dumped Bat into Lily's arms.
"Watch him for me, will you?" he asked. "Make sure he gets out all right."
"Put that werewolf down immediately, Lily," Raphael ordered.
"It really hurts that you would say that," Bat muttered, and shut his eyes.
Lily considered Bat's head, pillowed on her lavender bosom. "I don't want to put him down," she announced. "The Shadowhunter gave this DJ to me."
Bat opened one eye. "Do you like music?"
"I do," said Lily. "I like jazz."
"Cool," said Bat.
Raphael threw up his hands. "This is ridiculous! Fine," he snapped. "Fine. Let's just vacate th ~ Cassandra Clare

You are so beautiful," he whispered. He stepped closer, but before she could touch him he took her hand and brought it to his lips.
"When I saw you tonight I think my heart stopped beating."
"And is it now?" she whispered.
He took her hand and laid it over his heart. She could feel it pounding beneath his skin, almost hear it reverberating through her own body. He was so strong, and so solid, and so wonderfully male.
"Do you know what I wanted to do?" he murmured.
She shook her head, too entranced by the low heat of his voice to make a noise of her own.
"I wanted to turn you around and push you right back through the door before anyone else saw you. I didn't want to share you." He traced her lips with his finger. "I still don't. ~ Julia Quinn

Well, I saved you today, didn't I? Just like I saved you before. You walked out of the Bastion free, without a scratch, and if any Cokyrian but me had caught you with that dagger, you might be drawn and quartered by now."
"You didn't save me from that butcher," I said irritably. "But you're right. About today, I mean." I could sense his satisfaction, which irritated me all the more. "So accept my thanks, but stay away from me. We're not friends, you know."
I was nearing my neighborhood and didn't want anyone to see me with him. He stepped in front of me, forcing me to stop.
"We're not friends yet. But you've thought about it. And you just thanked me."
"Are you delusional?"
"No. You just said thank you to the faceless Cokyrian soldier who arrested you."
"Don't you ever stop?" I demanded, trying in vain to move around him.
"I haven't even started."
"What does that mean?"
There was silence as Saadi glanced up and down the street. "I want to know where you got that dagger. Or at least what story you told."
"Why don't you ask Commander Narian? The two of you seemed fairly close."
"Quit making jokes."
"I haven't made a single one."
"Well?"
"It was my father's," I said, clinging to the lie Queen Alera had provided, whether by mistake or not.
"Oh." This seemed to take Saadi aback.
"And now, because of you, I don't have it anymore." I knew I was pressing my luck, but I wanted to make him feel bad.
"I' ~ Cayla Kluver

Later Achilles would play the lyre, as Chiron and I listened. My mother's lyre. He had brought it with him.
'I wish I had known,' I said, the first day when he showed it to me. 'I almost did not come, because I did not want to believe it.'
He smiled. 'Now I know how to make you follow me everywhere. ~ Madeline Miller

She turned to Vetch and he caught her hands as they reached out for him. "I wanted power, I always wanted it, but it's stronger than I am! I can't control the Unworld, Vetch, or the real world either. I can't make it do what I want! The forest is too strong."
Vetch crouched, his narrow face close to hers. "You will, Chloe. I promise you." He glanced at Mac. "Ask him. God gives no one a gift he cannot master. Right, Priest? ~ Catherine Fisher

The truth is at Legendary we really make movies that we want to see, and someday I'm sure that won't work but - I remember, it's obviously a completely different thing, but our first movie was Batman Begins, and there was a lot of things about Batman back then, and there was this guy named Christopher Nolan, that seemed to have worked out okay with him at the helm. ~ Thomas Tull