She Finally Broke Quotes

I think ... she said finally, that all of us have got our ghosts. ~ Jodi Picoult

You said that it would be the two of us from now on, if this happened. That there would be no more Audrey, no other woman. That you'd come to me to be comforted, to be cared for."
He took great handfuls of her own wonderfully soft hair and framed her face in his lean hands. He bent to kiss her with breathless tenderness, savoring her warm mouth. "I will. Even if I don't know that I can cope with that again," he said huskily.
"With lovemaking?"
He took a long, long look at her. "You don't know much about this," he said finally. "There are…degrees of pleasure. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's even great. Once in a lifetime or so, it's sacred."
"I don't understand."
"You were a virgin," he whispered solemnly. "But we joined souls. I was inside you, but you were inside me, too." He nuzzled her nose with his. "I remember wondering if a man could die of pleasure, just at the last. It was so good that it was almost painful."
She smiled. "I know. I love you," she said softly.
He looked away from her. His hands on her shoulders were bruising.
"Sorry," she murmured, pulling away. "You don't want to hear that. But it's a fact of life, like middens and projectile points and horizons in archaeology. I can't help it, and it isn't as if you didn't already know. I couldn't have slept with you only because I wanted you. Not with my past."
He knew that. He knew it to the soles of his feet. He was confused and afraid and overwhelmed by the passi ~ Diana Palmer

Loupe, are you listening to me? I am your husband, it is my job to protect you. I cannot do that, if you insist on ignoring me and engaging some madwoman-"
"You know what, my darlings?" Loupe continued loudly, still looking at the pups. "I almost didn't call for you. I love you so much, it would destroy me if anything happened to you. But," she said clearly, "then I realized that trying to protect you from all danger would only keep you weak. I would much rather you grow to be big, strong, confident wolves. And I never want you to be afraid. Of anyone."
There was a long pause as she continued to ruffle the pups' fur and make baby noises at them.
Finally, Etienne knelt beside her and sighed. "I'm an adult, you know," he muttered. "You could have just said that to me."
Loupe raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything.
-Etienne and Loupe ~ Jennifer Blackstream

And in the dark of that room, notorious for the woven patterns of desire it had seen, Ammar ibn Khairan held the woman beloved of the man he'd killed, and offered what small comfort he could. He granted her the courtesy and space of his silence, as she finally permitted herself to weep, mourning the depth of her loss, the appalling disappearance, in an instant, of love in a bitter world. ~ Guy Gavriel Kay

His dark eyes searched her face. "But you love me," he said finally.
She had no reason to deny it. Ileni lifted her shoulders. "I'll recover. ~ Leah Cypess

A question wells up inside me, a question so big it blocks my throat and makes it hard to breathe. Somehow I swallow it back, finally choosing another.
"Are memories such an important thing?"
"It depends," she replies, and closes her eyes. "In some cases, they're the most important thing there is. ~ Haruki Murakami

Royce understood then why she had come: she had come to finish the task her relatives had begun; to do to him what he had done to her brother. Unmoving, he watched her, noting that tears were pouring down her beautiful face as she slowly bent down. But instead of reaching for his lance or her dagger, she took his hand between both of hers and pressed her lips to it. Through his daze of pain and confusion, Royce finally understood that she was kneeling to him, and a groan tore from his chest: "Darling," he said brokenly, tightening his hand, trying to make her stand, "don't do this…"
But his wife wouldn't listen. In front of seven thousand onlookers, Jennifer Merrick Westmoreland, countess of Rockbourn, knelt before her husband in a public act of humble obeisance, her face pressed to his hand, her shoulders wrenched with violent sobs. By the time she finally arose, there could not have been many among the spectators who had not seen what she had done. Standing up, she stepped back, lifted her tear-streaked face to his, and squared her shoulders.
Pride exploded in Royce's battered being - because, somehow, she was managing to stand as proudly - as defiantly - as if she had just been knighted by a king. ~ Judith McNaught

I don't want you two hurt because of me." ...
"At least try, sweetling. Please." At her slight nod, he did what came natural and lowered his head. She gasped into his mouth, and he pressed his lips to hers. The electric shock between them only pushed him to kiss her deeper ...
"I think I can try if you're going to keep kissing me like that," she finally said, and he grinned. ~ Carrie Ann Ryan

She wanted to touch him, to throw her arms around him - but something held her back. Maybe it was the fear that her arms would pass right through him, that she would have come all this way only to find a ghost after all.

As though he'd been able to read her thoughts, he slowly angled toward her. He raised his hands and held his palms out to her. Isobel lifted her own hands to mirror his. He pressed their palms together, his fingers folding down to lace through hers. She felt a rush of warmth course through her, a relief as pure and sweet as spring rain.

He was real. This was real. She had found him. She could touch him. She could feel him. Finally they were together. Finally, finally, they could forget this wasted world and go home.

"I knew it wasn't true," she whispered. "I knew you wouldn't stop believing." He drew her close.
Leaning into him, she felt him press his lips to her forehead in a kiss. As he spoke, the cool metal of his lip ring grazed her skin, causing a shudder to ripple through her.

"You..." His voice, low and breathy, reverberated through her, down to the thin soles of her slippers. "You think you're different," he said. She felt his hands tighten around hers, gripping hard, too hard.
A streak of violet lightning split the sky, striking close behind them.

The house, Isobel thought. It had been struck. She could hear it cracking apart. She looked for only a brief moment, long enough to watch i ~ Kelly Creagh

Well,all she had to do was ask," one offended male replied.
"I hope you're satisfied!" Lauren whispered furiously.
"I'm not," Nick chuckled in her ear. "But I'm going to be."
Fully intending to leave him to take his own notes, Lauren slammed her notebook closed and tried to shove her chair back. Nick's body blocked the chair. She twisted her head around to say something scathing, and his lips captured hers in a kiss that forced her head against the back of the chair, tripled her pulse rate and robbed her of thought. When he took his mouth away, she was too shaken to do anything except stare at him.
"What do you think,Nick?" a voice asked over the speaker.
"I think it gets better every time," he answered huskily.
When the call was finally over, Nick pressed a button on the desk, and Lauren saw the door leading into Mary's office swing shut electronically. He grasped her arms and drew her out of the chair, turning her toward him. His mouth came closer to hers,and Lauren felt herself being helplessly drawn into his magnetic spell. "Don't!" she pleaded. "Please don't do this to me."
His hands tightened on her arms. "Why can't you just admit you want me and enjoy the consequences?"
"All right," she said wretchedly, "You win. I want you...I admit it." She saw the gleam of triumph in his eyes, and her chin lifted. "When I was eight years old, I also wanted a monkey I saw in a pet store."
The triumph faded. "And?" he sighed irritably,letti ~ Judith McNaught

Finally, she'd found a group on Corellia that had helped her deal with her addiction, helped her realize why she felt so empty, so driven. "It took me months of hard digging into myself," she said. "Months to figure out why I wanted to hurt myself. I finally got it through my head that just because my mother hated and despised me for not being what she wanted me to be, I didn't have to hate myself. I didn't have to destroy myself in some twisted attempt to please her. ~ A.C. Crispin

She smoothed the long sleeve of her tight, orange t-shirt. "What? You've never seen a woman wear more than one shirt before?"
Odin's mouth closed and opened a few times before words finally came out. "She's like a fuckin' seven layer burrito someone forgot was in the back of the fridge for six months."
She had to laugh. How could she not with such vivid imagery coming from someone who dressed like he was going on an unholy crusade at any moment? ~ Jennifer Turner

But Daniel wouldn't kiss her the way she wanted.The closer she pressed to him, the farther back he leaned.
Finally he pushed her away completely. He held on only to her hands, as if the rest of her were dangerous.
"Lady." He kissed the very tips of her fingers, making her shiver. "Would I be too bold to say your love makes you unmannerly?"
"Unmannerly?" Luce blushed.
Daniel took her back into his arms, slowly, a bit nervously. "Good Lucinda, you must not find yourself in this place dressed as you are." His eyes kept returning to her dress. "What clothes are these? WHere is your costume?" He reached into a wardrobe and flicked through the clothes pegs.
Quickly,Daniel began to unlace his boots, tossing them on the floor with two thuds. Luce tried not to gape when he dropped his trousers.He wore short gray pantaloons underneath that left very little to the imagination.
Her cheeks burned as Daniel briskly unbuttoned his white shirt. He yanked it off,exposing the full beauty of his chest.Luce sucked in her breath. The only things missing were his unfurled wings. Daniel was so impeccably gorgeous-and he seemed to have no idea of the effect he was having on her by standing there in his underwear.
She gulped,fanning herself. "Is it hot in here? ~ Lauren Kate

Claire's lips twisted as she remembered the match against Arsenal last season. It had been a very important London derby and Gabriel's team had lost thanks to the referee's questionable decision to disallow Gabriel's goal. To say Gabriel was angry and upset would be to say nothing. Claire tried to comfort him, but Gabriel yelled at her to leave him alone and that he didn't want company, so Claire decided to take a walk and give him a few minutes to calm down. When she returned ten minutes later, she found Gabriel huddled into Jared's side, his expression calm and relaxed as Jared stroked his back and whispered something into his ear. Claire stood still, feeling like an outsider watching something she could never be part of.
That was why she'd been pleased about Jared quitting his job and returning to the States. She had thought she would finally have her boyfriend all to herself.
Claire chuckled. How naive she had been. ~ Alessandra Hazard

Do you always drink from a glass?" she finally exploded.
Gavriel shook his head. "Over my lifetime, I have fed in nearly every way imaginable. Drinking from a glass is tame is comparison."
Meryn started to grin.
"Would you drink from a man?" Gavriel nodded.
"Would you drink in a van?" she asked, her eyes dancing.
"I don't see why not," he replied. Elizabeth stared as Meryn continued.
"Would you drink from an actor?" Again, Gavriel nodded. Laughing, Elizabeth shook her head at Meryn.
"Would you drink on a tractor?" Meryn could barely get the words out she was laughing so hard. Gavriel frowned. "Maybe from a farmer if the need were dire. ~ Alanea Alder

I'm so sorry," he said between kisses. "For what I said that night. For leaving you earlier. I never meant-"
"I know," she whispered, wrapping a leg over his lip and shinnying up his body. Her lips grazed his ear. "I know. Just don't leave me again."
"Never." The word burst out like an oath or a prayer, and God help him, he meant it. "Never," he repeated, looking straight into her glimmering eyes. Then he sealed the vow with a kiss, deep and desperate and true. "Oh God," he groaned when their lips finally parted.
She kissed him again, working her warm, slender fingers under the collar of his shirt to stroke the chilled flesh of his shoulders and back. He buries his face in her neck, inhaling the beautiful scent of her. He'd forgotten how roses smell sweetest after a rain. Trailing light kisses down to her collarbone, he began carrying her toward the bed.
"Make love to me, Gray."
She didn't need to ask. They both knew what was going to happen. But Gray felt the significance of her words. He might have bedded ladies and whores the world over, but for the first time in his life, he was going to make love to a woman. And not just a woman. His woman.
And this idea that should have been so unthinkable, so frightening-to his surprise, Gray found it wildly arousing. They tumbled together onto the narrow bed, and she began pulling his shirt free of his trousers. He rose up on his knees and impatiently yanked it over his head.
He peered at her frock i ~ Tessa Dare

COOL·NESS [KOOL-NIS] -noun
CATCHING your mom gazing at the crazy crowd like she finally gets it
WATCHING your dad head-banging like he's Finn's twin brother
LEARNING that your new friends Tash and Kallie are a thousand times more complicated than you realized, and loving them for it
FEELING every one of your boyfriend's pounding drumbeats, and thinking it's the most romantic music ever written
REALIZING you're completely unique . . . even in a crowd ~ Antony John

Julian bent closer as if to soothe her. "Please continue. This is extremely interesting. I searched centuries for lost Carpathians but had given up hope. How all of you accomplished what you did is extraordinary."
Desari swallowed as little flames licked at her skin, as her breasts reacted to the pad of his thumb sliding sensuously over the soft swell. She glanced up at him, determined to reprimand him, but he was looking intellectual and earnestly interested in whatever she had been telling him. Except for his eyes. His eyes were molten gold and burning with a liquid fire that seemed to consume her, to mesmerize her.
"I have no idea what I was saying," she finally admitted, her voice so husky it was an invitation. ~ Christine Feehan

Can I play?" she asked finally, understanding, even at six, that the timidity of the question invited a single reply. "No." Looking to each other, not to her. She watched them. The orders they barked were low and intimate, running under the sound of the wind. "Can I have a man?" she asked. "No," again, but now their parents on the blanket together looked toward them. ~ Alice McDermott

So ... do you?" He persisted.
"Yes," she said finally with a mystified laugh. "I wrap my head in a towel."
He nodded, satisfied. "I thought so."
"Did you ever think about cutting back on the caffeine?"
Miles shook his head. "Never. ~ Nicholas Sparks

I love you, Rylann." He cupped her face, peering down into her eyes. "And now I finally have a good answer to the one question everyone always asks me
why I hacked into Twitter. I didn't know it at the time ... but I did it to find you again."
She leaned into him, curling her fingers around his shirt. "That may be the best justification I've ever heard for committing a crime." She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "And I love you, too, you know. ~ Julie James

Fate has always been the realm of the gods, though even the gods are subject to it.
In ancient Greek mythology, the Three Sisters of Fate spin out a person's destiny within three nights of their birth. Imagine your newborn child in his nursery. It's dark and soft and warm, somewhere between two and four a.m., one of those hours that belong exclusively to the newly born or the dying.
The first sister - Clotho - appears next to you. She's a maiden, young and smooth. In her hands she holds a spindle, and on it she spins the thrads of your child's life.
Next to her is Lachesis, older and more matronly than her sister. In her hands, she holds the rod used to mesure the thread of life. The length and destiny of your child's life is in her hands.
Finally we have Atropos - old, haggardly. Inevitable. In her hands she holds the terrible shears she'll use to cut the thread of your child's life. She determines the time and manner of his or her death.
Imagine the awesome and awful sight of these three sisters pressed together, presiding over his crib, dermining his future.
In modern times, the sisters have largely disappeared from the collective consiousness, but the idea of Fate hasn't. Why do we still believe? Does itmake tragedy more bearable to believe that we ourselves had no hand in it, that we couldn't have prevented it? It was always ever thus.
Things happen for a reason, says Natasha's mother. What she means is Fate has a Reason and, though yo ~ Nicola Yoon

Sometimes,' she said, 'I think I must have invented him.'
I know all I want to about your child,' Chauvin said harshly.
Anne Desbaresdes moaned again, louder than before. Again she put her hand on the table. His eyes followed her movement and finally, painfully, he understood and lifted his own leaden hand and placed it on hers. Their hands were so cold they were touching only in intention, an illusion, in order for this to be fulfilled, for the sole reason that it should be fulfilled, none other, it was no longer possible. And yet, with their hands frozen in this funereal pose, Anne Desbaresdes stopped moaning.
One last time,' she begged, 'tell me about it one last time.'
Chauvin hesitated, his eyes somewhere else, still fixed on the back wall. Then he decided to tell her about it as if it were a memory.
He had never dreamed, before meeting her, that he would one day want anything so badly.'
And she acquiesced completely?'
Wonderfully.'
Anne Desbaresdes looked at Chauvin absently. Her voice became thin, almost childlike.
I'd like to understand why his desire to have it happen one day was so wonderful?'
Chauvin still avoided looking at her. Her voice was steady, wooden, the voice of a deaf person.
There's no use trying to understand. It's beyond understanding.'
You mean there are some things like that that can't be gone into?'
I think so.'
Anne Desbaresdes' expression became dull, almost stupid. Her lips ha ~ Marguerite Duras

Aren't you frightened?"
Somehow I expected her to say no, to say something wise like a grownup would, or to explain that we can't presume to understand the Lord's plan.
She looked away. "Yes," she finally said, "I'm frightened all the time."
"Then why don't you act like it?"
"I do. I just do it in private."
"Because you don't trust me?"
"No," she said, "because I know you're frightened, too. ~ Nicholas Sparks

She was married, true; but if one's husband was always sailing round Cape Horn, was it marriage? If one liked him, was it marriage? If one liked other people, was it marriage? And finally, if one still wished, more than anything in the whole world, to write poetry, was it marriage? She had her doubts. ~ Virginia Woolf

I should warn you," she finally said. " I'm immune to charm."
"You got a shot or something?" he asked. She amused him. He couldn't help it.
"You're right. More likely it's an allergy," she said thoughtfully.
He felt his mouth quirk. "An allergy? To charm?"
"Yeah, my stomach feels a little funny."
He gave her a slow grin. "Oh, those are butterflies, Princess. And that's a good symptom. ~ Erin Nicholas

The neighborhood homeowners always knew when she ran by, because they suddenly felt the desire to organize their sock drawers and finally replace those burned out light-bulbs they'd been meaning to. ~ Sarah Addison Allen

Then he muttered like he was talking to himself, "I don't know if I want her to figure out she's fuckin' gorgeous so she isn't so fuckin' clueless when a player marks her or if I'm glad I finally got one who looks as good as her and has no fuckin' clue."
"Are you wanting me to participate in this discussion or are you having a conversation with yourself?"
"You're participation isn't required," Sam replied ... and I looked up to see him grinning. ~ Kristen Ashley

Queen Elizabeth was rather a flirt all her life. She finally developed a bad habit of boxing her partners' ears and shouting "god's death, I'll have thy head!" This discouraged some of her more sensitive partners, ~ Will Cuppy

But it wasn't just about the sex, though the sex blows my mind. I also wanted to have her around. Her over-loud laugh. Her bearish morning greetings. Her -thrashing/snuggling night-time presence. I miss her. I miss the way she always pushed me, always made me think, always made me work harder. I feel like I hadn't ever been able to repay her for all that, and just when I was finally in a position to do it, she found the ring box. ~ Steph Campbell

I thought about Kizuki. "So you finally made Naoko yours," I heard myself telling him. Oh, well, she was yours to begin with. Now maybe, she's where she belongs. But in this world, in this imperfect world of the living, I did the best I could for Naoko. ~ Haruki Murakami

Sometimes you just find a culture that breaks your heart," she said finally. ~ Lily King

And George Farr had the town, the earth, the world to himself and his sorrow. Music came faint as a troubling rumor beneath the spring night, sweetened by distance: a longing knowing no ease. (Oh God, oh God!)
At last George Farr gave up trying to see her. He had 'phoned vainly and time after time, at last the telephone became the end in place of the means: he had forgotten why he wanted to reach her. Finally he told himself that he hated her, that he would go away; finally he was going to as much pains to avoid her as he had been to see her. So he slunk about the streets like a criminal, avoiding her, feeling his his very heart stop when he did occasionally see her unmistakable body from a distance. And at night he lay sleepless and writhing to think of her, then to rise and don a few garments and walk past her darkened house, gazing in slow misery at the room in which he knew she lay, soft and warm, in intimate slumber, then to return to home and bed to dream of her brokenly. ~ William Faulkner

There's another half that thinks you're just crazy." "Finally. My people." She ~ Richard Kadrey

In the book of Alma is a story that has fascinated e since I first read it. it is about a very colorful character named Moroni--not to be confused with the last survivor of the Nephites, who was also named Moroni. This man was a brilliant military commander, and he rose to be supreme commander of all the Nephite forces at the age of twenty-five. For the next fourteen years he was off to the wars continuously except for two very short periods of peace during which he worked feverishly at reinforcing the Nephite defenses. When peace finally came, he was thirty-nine years old, and the story goes that at the age of forty-three he died. Sometime before this he had given the chief command of the armies of the Nephites to his son Moronihah. Now, if he had a son, he had a wife. I've often wondered where she was and how she fared during those fourteen years of almost continuous warfare, and how she felt to have him die so soon after coming home. I am sure there are many, many stories of patience and sacrifice that have never been told. We each do our part, and we each have our story. ~ Marjorie Pay Hinckley

Soy milk and two sugars." Just this past week, Rachel had become convinced that how people took their coffee gave some secret insight into their characters. Were people who took their coffee black unyielding? Did people who liked their coffee with milk and no sugar have mother issues? She had a notebook behind the coffee counter in which she wrote her findings. Willa decided to keep her on her toes by making up a different request every day.
Rachel walked back to the coffee bar to write that down in her notebook. "Hmm, interesting," she said seriously, as if it made all the sense in the world, as if she'd finally figured Willa out.
"You don't believe in ghosts, but you do believe that how I take my coffee says something about my personality?"
"That's superstition. This is science. ~ Sarah Addison Allen

My name,' he sad, 'is Tric.'
The girl looked him over, dark eyes narrowed. A puzzle, this one. And sure and certain, our girl had ever the weakness for puzzlea.
'Mia,' she finally said. ~ Jay Kristoff

I sang all the time, and finally, my mother looked at me and said: 'I have a friend in New York who gives singing lessons. If she says you can sing, you can take lessons. If you can't sing, I never want you to open your mouth again as long as you live.' ~ Marcia Strassman

Please don't hug me. Please don't hug me.
But she did. And now Bram had two sets of black eyes glaring at him.
Finally, he said out loud, "It's not me! I swear!" Rhiannon laughed and leaned back from Bram.
"So cute! Isn't he cute, Bercelak?"
"No."
"Bercelak's only teasing."
"No, I'm not. ~ G.A. Aiken