Trying To Move On Quotes

You know the type - the ones who steal your heart and leave you floundering helplessly without it for half a decade, shoving other things into the gap where it used to be, but finding that they don't bloody fit ~ Jessica Thompson

When we're trying to move on, the moments we go back to aren't dull ones. They're the big moments that meant everything. ~ Taylor Swift

Kill your­self or don't kill your­self, but stop tor­tur­ing me. I'm try­ing to move on with my life. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

There's an old poem by Neruda that I've always been captivated by, and one of the lines in it has stuck with me ever since the first time I read it. It says "love is so short, forgetting is so long." It's a line I've related to in my saddest moments, when I needed to know someone else had felt that exact same way. And when we're trying to move on, the moments we always go back to aren't the mundane ones. They are the moments you saw sparks that weren't really there, felt stars aligning without having any proof, saw your future before it happened, and then saw it slip away without any warning. ~ Taylor Swift

What's a Klettersteig?" Dinah asked, trying to move on. "It is a mountain climb that is preengineered with cables, ladders, and so on." "To make it easier," Dinah guessed. "Oh, no. It is not easy. It is a way to take a climb that would be impossible, and make it merely extremely difficult." "Okay," Dinah said. "A good metaphor for what we are trying to do up here, then." "Yes, I suppose so!" Markus said, cheerfully enough. ~ Neal Stephenson

But now they must've worn off. He thought he may have groaned. It was hard to be sure in his kinda awake state. He tried to move his hand and yelled out at the pain. Oh yeah, fractured wrist. "Easy there, bad boy." Oh my lord. Curtis would know that sexy whisky-dripped baritone anywhere. He'd force open his own eyes now just to see those green eyes looking down at him. He didn't care if his head exploded into a million pieces. It'd be worth it for this sight. "Open those beautiful baby blues," Genesis said in a hushed drawl. Curtis fought through the fog and the pain and cracked open his eyes. He blinked a few times at the harsh light above his head but he kept on until Genesis' gorgeous face was in focus. Curtis' lips parted in a smile. What on earth was he doing there? He believed it was a Monday now. Genesis should be in school. "Gen. ~ A.E. Via

Wicked, to be sure." He repeated the word as though tasting it, his gaze now following her finger's progress. "Perhaps you'd better punish me."


Good Lord, what next? "Punish you, indeed." She advanced her finger just to the base of his erection and stopped. "Suppose I were to walk out of this room and leave you here alone until you remembered your decency. Would that be punishment enough?"


He smiled as though he were teaching her chess and she'd just made a clever move. "Maybe." His eyes came to her face, and wandered in leisurely, thorough fashion down her body and back to her still finger. "Or maybe you ought to touch yourself. Pleasure yourself, and force me to watch."


"Now I know beyond question that you've confused me with someone else." Aplomb had company: his every shameless utterance was waking strange--or not so strange--sensations that spiraled from her core on out. "And I doubt you would take it as punishment, quite."


"Darling, I would take it as torture." Again he twisted against his bonds, so much power at her mercy. "Because you'd taunt me with it, wouldn't you? You'd place yourself where I could nearly reach you. And you'd say things to inflame me, but never touch me at all. I'd have to lie here helpless, watching you give yourself what you won't take from me." He sucked in a breath. "Start now, if you would. ~ Cecilia Grant

His silhouette blocked the starlight. She turned her head and a sticky kiss landed below her ear. She tried to relax, but her arms wouldn't move from their defensive position on his shirtfront. His next kiss grazed her cheek. "Jesse." "You remembered my name. ~ Catherine Richmond

She stood, squared her shoulders. "We'll do it. Together." And then she did something that shocked them both. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a swift kiss on his lips. "Thank you for returning to help me." When she tried to move away, he latched onto her forearms and held her in place. His eyes were gleaming. "Next time you decide to do that ... " What?" she said, stiffening. "Give you a little warning?" No." He grinned. "Linger. ~ Gena Showalter

It is funny how we hurt ourselves, isn't it? We're the reason of what happens to us, we're the reason of our suffering, we choose the wrong people to hang with, to date and to love. The mind blames the heart, the heart blames the lover and that's how the cycle of life and love goes. Sometimes, we're so afraid to lose people and end up alone. Despite of their hurting, we think that if we chase them away we'll never be able to fill their places, we fear feeling empty and alone and most of all we fear the fact that they may move on before us. ~ Yasmine Marouf Araibi

I was a king for a while. I wasn't a very good one. I wanted all kinds of things. I wanted, well, you know. Power. Glory. To be feared. All that good stuff. But you know what? When the gaiaphage did it to me, when she made me cry and grovel and beg for mercy, I realized: There's no end to this for me. There's no end to the FAYZ. If we get out alive, there's still no end. And what happens to me out there in the world?"
"No, you're wrong they can't blame you for everything that happened."
He laughed. "Yeah, well, actually, they can. A king, warrior, whatever I was, I want to go out in a blaze of glory. I've risen as high as I'm ever going to. And if I survive, I'm just going to end up as prisoner number three-one-two-whatever. You coming to see me on visiting days."
"But I will come see you. And I will wait for you."
"No," he said firmly. "I get my big finish. And you get your life. Move on, Diana. ~ Michael Grant

You know what love is?"
Creed asked that and my eyes shot from the hair on his forehead to his.
"I ... " I swallowed again then, holding his eyes, I whispered, "Yes. I do. I know what love is, Creed."
I felt his big hand curl warm on the side of my face before I felt the pad of his thumb sweep across my lips again. He watched it move as he replied, "I do too, baby." His eyes came to mine. "I absolutely do. ~ Kristen Ashley

YOU REALLY DO impress me, you know."

Cade peered down at Brooke, who lay against his chest, curled up in the sheets of her bed. "Thanks. I even impressed myself with that one."

She chuckled. "I wasn't referring to that move you threw in at the end there. Although, yes, well done, you."

"Glad you approve."

"Actually, I was thinking about our conversation earlier, when you were talking about being out with Vaughn and Huxley."

"You're thinking about Vaughn and Huxley while we're lying in bed together? Not sure I like the sound of that."

She perked her head up and looked at him. "Oh . . . so that's not something you would ever consider? The three of you, you know . . . all at once? Because I kind of have this fantasy I was going to talk to you about."

Cade was about to laugh, but then she held his gaze so unflinchingly that for a split second he wondered if she was actually serious.

Okay . . . this definitely was not a conversation he'd ever expected to have with Brooke Parker of Sterling Restaurants, the Gorgeous Green Eyes, and Holy Shit She's Into Foursomes.

But then he saw the telltale sparkle in her eyes.

He exhaled. "You suck."

"Oh my God, you should've seen the look on your - " She cut off, laughing when he beaned her with one of the pillows. Then he bonked her two more times for good measure.

She sprawled across the bed when he'd finished, he ~ Julie James

He rolled her on the bed and turned so he could look at her. 'Are you hurt?' His stomach lurched in the seconds it took her to answer. 'I'm happy.' She opened her eyes and looked at him shyly. 'I'm glad for this. I'm glad that it was you.' Her tiger's eyes glowed in vibrant gold and green. A surge of possessiveness clawed at him, like talons around his heart. He had wild thoughts about taking her with him. They could keep on running, accountable to no one but each other. She'd never have to marry a man she didn't want. But that was what his life had always been. Ailey needed more. She needed honour, tradition and family. Yet she'd chosen him. She'd given herself without reservation. The knowledge stunned him. It made him believe that he could be more. He kissed her. It was the only way to stop thinking. He was never a thinking man anyway. He kissed her again, then released her lips to move his mouth over her breast, sliding his tongue over her nipple, sucking gently until he could feel her squirm beneath him. He ran his hands over her satiny skin until her breath caught and she whispered his name, her breath fanning soft against his ear. He had never gone hard so quickly. When he entered her moments later, she closed around him and he moved within her, lifting and lowering as he waited for the dark pleasure to overcome him. But it wouldn't. Not completely. Through the slick heat and the unbelievable tightness gripping him, Ailey was there. When he shut his eyes, he saw her fa ~ Jeannie Lin

You cling so tightly to your purity, my lad! How terrified you are of sullying your hands. Well, go ahead then, stay pure! What good will it do, and why even bother coming here among us? Purity is a concept of fakirs and friars. But you, the intellectuals, the bourgeois anarchists, you invoke purity as your rationalization for doing nothing. Do nothing, don't move, wrap your arms tight around your body, put on your gloves. As for myself, my hands
are dirty. I have plunged my arms up to the elbows in excrement and blood. And what else should one do? Do you suppose that it is possible to govern
innocently? ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

Wine after three glasses solves nothing and the pain of recent discovery remains. Still, I'm feeling a friendly touch of disassociation. I'm already some useful steps removed and see myself revealed some fifteen feet below me, like a fallen climber spreadeagled and supine on a rock. I can begin to comprehend my situation, I can think as well as feel. An unassuming New World white can do this much. So. My mother has preferred my father's brother, cheated her husband, ruined her son. My uncle has stolen his brother's wife, deceived his nephew's father, grossly insulted his sister-in-law's son. My father by nature is defenceless, as I am by circumstance. My uncle - a quarter of my genome, of my father's half, but no more like my father than I to Virgil or Montaigne. What despicable part of myself is Claude and how will I know? I could be my own brother and deceive myself as he deceived his. When I'm born and allowed at last to be alone, there's a quarter I'll want to take a kitchen knife to. But the one who holds the knife will also be my uncle, quartering in my genome. Then we'll see how the knife won't move. And this perception too is somewhat his. And this. ~ Ian McEwan

As Sean seem determined to shadow her every move, she concluded that young boys were much like cats. They insisted on giving their company to those who most feared or distrusted them. ~ J.D. Robb

I see you have no need of a sword."
"Very difficult, these days, to get them through security," she pointed out without changing expression.
"You're extremely accurate with that weapon."
"With all weapons. My father was an exacting man."
"You're a very dangerous woman, Azami Yoshiie." Sam meant it as an admiring compliment.
One eyebrow raised. Her mouth curved and she flashed a heart-stopping smile. "You have no idea how dangerous." She said his own words right back to him and he believed her.
"And you're as adept with a sword as you are with your other weapons?" he asked curiously.
"More so," she admitted with no trace of bragging - simply stating a fact. "I said so, didn't I?"
Sam turned on his heel and strode toward her purposefully. "I'm about to kiss you, Ms. Yoshiie. I'm fully aware I'm breaching every single international law of etiquette there is, and you might, rightfully, stick that knife of yours in my gut, but right at this moment I don't particularly give a damn."
Her eyes widened, but she didn't move. He'd known she wouldn't. She was every bit as courageous as any member of his team. She would stand her ground.
Thorn moistened her lips. "It might be your heart," she warned truthfully.
"Still, I have no choice here. I really don't. So pull the damn thing out and be ready."
She felt her body go liquid with heat, a frightening reaction to a woman of absolute control. "If you're going to do it, you'd best m ~ Christine Feehan

You must find a place on a woman's body and live there.
In the dark, the noise far away, Sam ran his hands over Calliope's body and the world of work and worry seemed to move away. He found two depressions at the bottom of her back where sunlight collected, and he lived there, out of the wind and noise. He grew old there, died and ascended to the Great Spirit, found heaven in her cheek on his chest, the warm wind of her breath across his stomach carried sweet grass and sage, and... In another lifetime he had lived on the soft skin under her right breast, his lips riding light over the ridge and valley of every rib, shuffling through downy, dew damp hairs like a child dancing through autumn leaves. In the mountain of her breast, he fasted at the medicine wheel of her aureole, received a vision that he and she were steam people, mingled wet with no skin seperating them. And there he lived, happy. She followed, traveled, lived with him and in him as he was in her. They lived lifetimes and slept and dreamed together. It was swell. ~ Christopher Moore

I am not going to kill you. First I'm going to beat on you for a few hours.
Then I might move on to the cutting. ~ Marc Guggenheim

The building has shielded generators. The power will be back on in the next three minutes. We need to move. Through ~ Richard Kadrey

You don't need help to write a song. You just need to get over this experience that bummed you out so bad. The relationship you were in is over, it was over a long time ago, and you need to move on. ~ Stevie Nicks

Do you think I absorbed all the impact? That when Mom left, it hit my side of the car? Fuck that, Wren. She left you, too."

"But it didn't break me. Nothing can break me unless I let it."

"Do you think Dad let it? Do you think he chose to fall apart when she left?"

"Yes!" Wren was shouting now. "And I think he keeps choosing. I think you both do. You'd rather be broken than move on. ~ Rainbow Rowell

You make this sound like a chore for you, like a job. This ... ," he pressed his fingers to my heart, "it's about love for me
undying, unwavering, unrelenting love. A love that won't let me move on, it won't let me get over you. I don't want to focus on the sickness that could replace you in my heart. I don't want to think of what will happen if I stop fighting for you, for us. But, sometimes I feel like I'm alone in this fight. ~ Jordan Deen

Based on his own experience and the experiences of others he treated later in his psychiatric practice, Frankl argues that we cannot avoid suffering, but we can choose how to find meaning in it and move forward with renewed purpose. ~ Sophie Sabbage

Those three years on 'Loving' were instrumental in helping me move through the next few years of work, where it was hit or miss. I was on series that would get canceled, then I would be a movie that wouldn't come out or do as well as I hoped. You learn that you have to just keep plugging away and never take anything for granted. ~ Michael Weatherly

I absolutely miss dancing. Don't want to do it for a living, I'm getting old, I can't move like I used to. If I had the opportunity to do something on Broadway or a musical, I would jump at the opportunity. ~ Michael K. Williams

Before the body softens; and the world of this, nothing shall be taken away. Do not promise to make the richest flowers. More will their love give. Before the clouds move. Before the rivers make waves in the sea, the angels will bless you. Angels that walks in our dreams. On the way to heaven. At the request of the night to hold it. You were one of the choices. That at the request of the day brought from there. ~ Alan Maiccon

With the persistence of data, there is, too, the persistence of people. If you friend someone as a ten-year-old, it takes positive action to unfriend that person. In principle, everyone wants to stay in touch with the people they grew up with but social networking makes the idea of "people from one's past" close to an anachronism. Corbin reaches for a way to express his discomfort. he says "For the first time, people will stay your friends. It makes it harder to let go of your life and move on." Sanjay, sixteen, who wonders if he will be "writing on my friends' walls when I'm a grown-up," sums up his misgivings: "For the first time people can stay in touch with people all of their lives. But it used to be good that people could leave their high school friends behind and take on new identities. ~ Sherry Turkle

I think the problem with humanity is that we measure our worth based on deeds and do not understand that our deeds reflect our belief and not our worth, which is why we struggle to forgive, to move on when hurt, because we don't understand that the person who hurt us, doesn't understand how valuable we are. ~ Jeremy Forsyth

A Blessing on the Poets

Patient earth-digger, impatient fire-maker,
Hungry word-taker and roving sound-lover,
Sharer and saver, muser and acher,
You who are open to hide or uncover,
Time-keeper and –hater, wake-sleeper, sleep-waker;
May language's language, the silence that lies
Under each word, move you over and over,
Turning you, wondering, back to surprise. ~ Annie Finch

I am, I guess, depressed. I guess I've been depressed for about twenty-four years. I can feel a better version of me somewhere in there - hidden behind a liver or attached to a bit of spleen within my stunted, childish body - a Libby that's telling me to get up, do something, grow up, move on. But the meanness usually wins out. (2) ~ Gillian Flynn

If your outer life is really a reflection of the quality of your inner life, then it's a brilliant move to spend at least an hour a day working on yourself. ~ Robin Sharma

I think we were meant to find each other, AK. I think we were meant to find each other, to leave hell together." I didn't reply. I had no words. "I think that no solution is quick, and no remedy will magically make our pain drift away. I believe that we must go on through this pain we are feeling in order to move on. And I believe whatever God or greater power exists above us brought us together so we may heal together. Heal the other in a way that no other person could. ~ Tillie Cole

I loved my mother. It took me a long time to forgive her for leaving us. It took me an even longer time to forgive my father for his part in making her leave. But I did, because when it comes down to it… you either die alone, surrounded by the ghosts of all the people who ever let you down, or you live a life full of flawed people whose imperfections you've made a choice to overlook. I don't know about you but if given the choice, I'll pick the imperfections every time. I choose understanding over resentment, love over hate, forgiveness over loneliness.' I look at Parker. 'Some of us are still working on the forgiveness part.'
His eyes are still red, but his lips tug up in a half smile.
I take a deep breath. 'You don't get to pick your family. You don't get to choose the people who work their way into your heart and build a home there.' My eyes move to Nate. 'And life is too damn short not to spend it with the people who matter. Not to say I love you when you still can. Not to hold each other close and admit, out loud, You matter to me. My life wouldn't be the same without you. ~ Julie Johnson

I didn't know what to do for my project so I brought in a paper cup filled with dirt just hoping that she'd know I'm an idiot and just walk right on past me just as long as I was holding something.

"What do you have there, Brian?"

"It's a cup of dirt. Just put an 'F' on it there and let me go home."

"Well, explain it."

"Well, it's a cup with dirt in it. I call it 'Cup of Dirt.' You should move on now. Just go ahead and move on. Head on down the line there. ~ Brian Regan

It will relax her, make her pliable. Women love having their feet rubbed."
"Most women beg me to rub somewhere other than their feet."
"They like their toes nibbled," Aiden said. "And suckled."
"Rub feet, suckle toes. Got it."
"Do it slowly, the strokes steady. Then move up her legs. Use her muscles as a guide. Not hard strokes - you want to soothe, not press."
"How long before I can massage her pussy?"
"Gods, level threes are impatient. The trick is to go slowly. By the time you've reached her ass, she's sighing with pleasure, but you don't stop there. You do her entire back and arms while she's longing for you to get to her pussy. Make her wait."
"Now that I can get into. Holding back, making her beg."
He saw Nella again, squirming on the sheets, her red hair tangled on the pillow, her hips lifting toward him. Please, Rio, she'd say.
Not yet, baby, he'd respond. I want you good and wet before I get there.
She'd whimper with disappointment, then he'd lift his strap and smack her sweet little backside.
Rio sighed and made the image dissolve. "Massage. Slowly. I'm not sure my programming will let me."
"Like this." Aiden moved his ale glass and pressed his hand to the table, thumb and last two fingers on the surface, the other two fingers held loosely. "Glide across her skin, pressing a little. Long strokes, following the curve of her leg." He moved his hand across the table, slowly and sensually, his ow ~ Allyson James

I have to reign in my personality a little bit. Sometimes you want to go more colorful, but that's not my job on the [Grimm] show. My job is to be the center of the show, and the further you move out the more it can get wild. ~ David Giuntoli

Colby arrived the next day, with stitches down one lean cheek and a new prosthesis. He held it up as Cecily came out to the car to greet him. He held it up as Cecily came out to the car to greet him. "Nice, huh? Doesn't it look more realistic than the last one?"
"What happened to the last one?" she asked.
"Got blown off. Don't ask where," he added darkly.
"I know nothing," she assured him. "Come on in. Leta made sandwiches."
Leta had only seen Colby once, on a visit with Tate. She was polite, but a little remote, and it showed.
"She doesn't like me," Colby told Cecily when they were sitting on the steps later that evening.
"She thinks I'm sleeping with you," she said simply." So does Tate."
"Why?"
"Because I let him think I was," she said bluntly.
He gave her a hard look. "Bad move, Cecily."
"I won't let him think I'm waiting around for him to notice me," she said icily. "He's already convinced that I'm in love with him, and that's bad enough. I can't have him know that I'm…well, what I am. I do have a little pride."
"I'm perfectly willing, if you're serious," he said matter-of-factly. His face broke into a grin, belying the solemnity of the words. "Or are you worried that I might not be able to handle it with one arm?"
She burst out laughing and pressed affectionately against his side. "I adore you, I really do. But I had a bad experience in my teens. I've had therapy and all, but it's still sort of traumatic for me ~ Diana Palmer

I thought of what Cameron said about the day I came across the yard to him to ask him to be in my club. About how I had guts. About how I was brave and strong. He was around to tell me these things now, to remind me, but I was going to have to learn to remember them myself, and believe them.
I got up, crept to Alan's office, and went in.
"Cameron? Cam?"
He didn't move, and appeared to be fast asleep.
I'm not sure what I wanted. To look at him, I guess, and talk. I sat on the floor by the sofa bed so that my face was level with his. His breath came in short, toothpaste-minty sighs.
"Cameron Quick," I whispered, just wanting to hear his name. He still didn't move. I touched his face, following the curve of his jaw, the bow of his lips. This was the boy who made my childhood less lonely, who made me feel loved. And known. And accepted. Who had stared into my most terrifying moment right beside me, while my most terrifying moment was his everyday life. And I pictured him patting that baby doll by a cold window, showing it comfort by instinct. I felt overwhelmed with sadness for his life and what it could have been, even though I knew he wouldn't want me to feel that way. He'd say it was all right, that he'd get by, that he could take care of himself. That he didn't need anyone to fix it. But I still wanted to, to somehow make up for that infinite, infinite well of helplessness that I'd spent most of my life believing had swallowed us up.
It hadn't, t ~ Sara Zarr