Wanting Your Friend Back Quotes

I stare in horror at the tweezers. "I don't know how you women manage to put up with having your legs done. or even, you know, your other bits". Joanna smiles. "You should ask your friend Dan,"she says. 'He'll tell you how it feels'. For a moment I just stare back at her,thinking she's joking, before I cotton on. You're kidding? Dan? I point to my crotch. 'Down there?' Joanna nods. Its very popular nowadays. 'I think the guys believe it makes them look, you know, bigger.' And for the rest of the afternoon, I can't get the phrase 'last turkey in the shop' out of my mind. ~ Matt Dunn

Most people hammer your mind with Thesis>Antithesis>Synthesis or as my old friend, the late Robert Anton Wilson, said: "Here's what it is, here's what it isn't, now here's why you need to go tell everyone how smart I am." I can't tell you how much that tired old formula skeeves me. When I do see people brave enough to (god forbid!) put the onus of drawing a conclusion back on the reader (heresy!), I am not only relived (what, me have to think?), my faith in humanity has it's execution stayed another day. ~ Joseph Matheny

Books or people, you ask. It's a difficult choice, I've got to say. I don't know whether people mean more than books - they're definitely not nicer or funnier or more comforting ... but still, however much I twist and turn the question, I've got to opt for people in the long run. I hope you don't lose all confidence in me now that I've admitted that.
I can't for the life of me explain why I have the bad sense to prefer people. If you went purely by numbers, then books would win hands down. I've loved maybe a handful of people in my entire life, compared with tens or maybe even hundreds of books (and here I'm counting only those books I've really loved, the kind that make you happy just to look at them, that make you smile regardless of what else is happening in your life, that you always turn back to like an old friend and can remember exactly where you first "met" them - I'm sure you know just what I'm talking about). But that handful of people you love ... they're surely worth just as much as all those books. ~ Katarina Bivald

I think a marvelous stunt would be to have your best friend (or the most critical acquaintance) take some candid color snapshots of you from all angles, dressed just as you usually appear at, say, six in the evening. The same hairdo, the same makeup, and if possible the same expression on your face. Be honest! Be sure to have her take the rear views, too.
There ought to be some other shots of you wearing your best going-out-to-dinner dress, or your favorite bridge-with-the-girls costume - hat, gloves, bag, and costume jewelry. Everything. Then have that roll of film developed and BLOWN UP. You can't see much in a tiny snapshot. An eight-by-ten will show you the works - and you probably won't be very happy with it. Sit down and take a long look at that strange woman.
Is she today's with-it person - elegant, poised, groomed, glowing with health? Or is she a plump copy of Miss 1950? Is she sleek, or bumpy in the wrong places? How is her posture? Does she look better from the front than from the back? Does she stand gracefully? […] Feet together or one slightly in front of the other, is the most graceful stance.
[…]
I always pin my bad notices on my mirror. How about keeping those eight-by-ten candid shots around your dressing room for a while as you dress? ~ Joan Crawford

Every fop and fool in London has been sniffing after her." Having said that, Jason returned his attention for the report. "Go ahead and read off the names, if you must."
Frowning in surprise at Jason's dismissive attitude, Charles took the seat across the desk from him and put on his spectacles. "First, there is young Lord Crowley, who has already asked my permission to court her."
"No. Too impulsive," Jason decreed flatly.
"What makes you say so?" Charles said with a bewildered look.
"Crowley doesn't know Victoria well enough to want to 'court' her, as you so quaintly phrased it."
"Don't be ridiculous. The first four men on this list have already asked my permission to do the same thing- providing, of course, that your claim on her is not unbreakable."
"No, to all those four men- for the same reason," Jason said curtly, leaning back in his chair, absorbed in the report in his hand. Who's next?"
"Crowley's friend, Lord Wiltshire."
"Too young. Who's next?"
"Arthur Landcaster."
"Too short," Jason said cryptically. "Next?"
"William Rogers," Charles shot back in a challenging voice, "and he's tall, conservative, mature, intelligent, and handsome. He's also the heir to one of the finest estates in England. I think he would do very well for Victoria."
"No."
"No?" Charles burst out. "Why not?"
"I don't like the way Roger sits a horse."
"You don't like_" Charles bit out in angry disbelief; then ~ Judith McNaught

At the very least, I hope it means I will get my Briony back again. I know, I'll hold a party for her--and take her on a pony ride--I think that will be quite in order, if I can be spared from my official duties for the afternoon."

"You're the King," Taris reminded him with a smile.

"But you're my conscience, Taris, you know that."

"Then your conscience says we should keep his highness's current location secret, but an announcement of his escape is most desirable. Therefore, a party is quite in order--if not essential--for the morale of the nation."

"Excellent. I really should promote you, old friend. Only trouble is, there's nowhere to go but down from your office."

"I am well aware of that, Your Majesty. ~ Julia Golding

Two starving kids and tree-hugging vegetarians. I'm going to kill Chase."
Phoebe didn't blame him. Despite her lack of experience in the cattle-drive department, even she could see the potential for trouble. Then a familiar figure standing beside the driver caught her attention, and she waved. Maya grinned and waved back.
"It's Maya," Phoebe said.
Zane turned and followed her gaze. "Just perfect," he muttered as his ex-stepsister walked toward them.
"You're looking grim, Zane," Maya said cheerfully when she joined them. "Who died?" She smiled. "Oh, I forgot. You're just being your usual charming self." She squeezed his arm. "You've missed me, I know."
Zane's eyes narrowed. "Like foot fungus."
She laughed and turned to Phoebe. "You're still alive. I see Zane didn't bore you to death."
"Not even close." Phoebe hugged her friend.
Maya waved forward the bus driver, a pretty woman in her fifties. "Phoebe, this is Elaine Mitchell."
"You're the one Maya worked for in high school?" Phoebe asked.
"I am."
Maya put her arm around Phoebe's shoulders. "And this is my BFF, Phoebe."
"Welcome to Fool's Gold," Elaine said with a smile.
Instead of her usual suit and high heels, Maya wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and boots. Her blond hair was pulled back in a braid.
"You look like a local," Phoebe said.
"Speaking of locals," Maya began, a note of warning in her voice.
"Oh, shit," Zane said before she could contin ~ Susan Mallery

Tell me, is there someone in your life who's been sharing your life too closely? A friend or a loved one? Is there someone who's been taking up your time and not giving any of it back? ~ Alexandra Kleeman

We all accepted that this land was a gate to that other world, the realm of spirits and dreams and the Fair Folk, without any question. The place we grew up in was so full of magic that it was almost a part of everyday life - not to say you'd meet one of them every time you went out to pick berries, or draw water from your well, but everyone we knew had a friend of a friend who'd strayed too far into the forest, and disappeared; or ventured inside a ring of mushrooms, and gone away for a while, and come back subtly changed. Strange things could happen in those places. Gone for maybe fifty years you could be, and come back still a young girl; or away for no more than an instant by moral reckoning, and return wrinkled and bent with age. These tales fascinated us, but failed to make us careful. If it was going to happen to you, it would happen, whether you liked it or not. ~ Juliet Marillier

Those times when someone you thought was your friend talks about you behind your back really hurt. Even if you act like you don't care, deep inside, you care. ~ Zoey-Rose Hawthorne

Toothless? Hey, it's me, bud. It's me. It's me, I'm right here, bud. Come back to me. It wasn't your fault, bud. They… made you do it. You'd never hurt him. You'd never hurt me! Please, you.. are my best friend, bud… My best friend. ~ Hiccup Horrendous Haddock

Lend your friend $20. If he doesn't pay you back then he's not your friend. Money well spent. ~ Ted Nicholas

Take it easy, friend," siad Peter, regaining his balance, quickly understanding the condition Henry was in.
"Friend? You left us. In the caves." Henry's muscles tensed.
Peter stepped back cautiously. Henry didn't look like himself.
"Seems someone can't hold his drink," Peter said. He didn't go further, sensing then that Valerie might be thinking of her father.
"And now," Henry continued on his own track, stepping closer to meet him, the smell of alcohol on his breath, "my father, too is dead."
Valerie moved to Henry. "Please, don't do this," she said, stepping in. "It's not worth it."
Henry pushed past her, not realizing his own weight. The force knocked her back. Peter grabbed Henry's arm and twisted it. Overreacting, Henry reared back his fist and landed a punch in the hollow of Peter's eye. The crowd laughed as Peter fell hard to the ground.
Henry scrambled on top him, held him by the collar, forced Peter to face him as he'd never done. He looked into the eyes of the man he wanted to blame for his parents' deaths, because it was a shelter from the terrible thought that everything could be lost to a simple slip of fate. "You filth," he spat out.
This really got the villagers going. But Peter didn't laugh. He pulled a knife from his boot and leapt up, thrusting it viciously in Henry's face.
"Keep your hands off her or I'll cut them off! ~ Sarah Blakley-Cartwright

Now. Bram, you are a good friend and an uptanding young man, but I'm afraid that tradition dictates I now attempt to scare you within an inch of your unlife."
"Understood," Bram said, taking his arm back as I got myself under control.
My father is a gentle-looking man. Thus, why I started laughing again as he attempted to look stern. "What are your intentions concerning my daughter?"
Bram cast a look my way, laughing himself, before clearing his throat and doing his best to look scared. "Why, to care for and protect her until I rot away, sir. ~ Lia Habel

I'm terrified that if I let myself go there again, if I explore these out-of-control emotions, that there will be no turning back. It's like looking into a giant abyss. There's no end in sight. There's no bottom to the well, and if I allow myself to fall in..."
"He'll catch you," Jordan whispered. "But you have to trust him, and you have to trust in yourself. That's love, my friend - leaping into the mighty unknown because your heart overtakes your mind. That's what life is all about, but we can't and don't do it alone. Give Ronan a chance, Maddy. ~ Sara Humphreys

I want you now. Always. Everywhere and as my everything-my lover, my friend, my sharp-tongued beauty, my drinking companion, my children's mother, my courage in the face of certain defeat. My sactuary." He captured her lips. "My duchess." He kissed her. She returned his kiss with great enthusiasm. "But at this specific moment," he said between kisses, "I just really want you in my bed." With eager compliance, she accepted his kisses on her throat. "I can oblige you in that, your grace." "Or your bed. Whichever we come to first." "You are all that is wise and efficient." "Or the carriage." She grabbed his hand. "Let's be off then, shall we?" Laughter bubbling from her, she dragged him toward the carriage. He snatched her back to him and with his hands around her face said, "Arabella, I love you."

-Luc & Arabella ~ Katharine Ashe

Your friend Mikey knew what my touch could do, but he didn't tell me. He turned me into a murderer. Worse than a murderer."
"I think," said Nick, "they call that manslaughter or wrongful death, don't they? I mean, when it's an accident or out of ignorance, or something."
Clarence turned to Nick, studying him with his Everlost eye. "You're a lot smarter than you were back in the cage," Clarence said. "You look better too. Back then you were a thing, now you're almost a person."
"Thanks . . . but 'almost' is still 'almost.'"
"Yeah, well, we're all almost something. ~ Neal Shusterman

How everyone is struggling for something. Trying to keep the balance.

Struggling to find their way back. Doing the best they can with what they've been dealt. Staying in place, doing anything to keep from sinking. To keep from rising.

Until something changes. Like a day at school, a friend for lunch, someone standing up for you.

And the choice to feel. Standing before you.

Realizing what part is yours. What you can and can't do. Who you are. Who you are meant to be.

More than the sum of all your broken parts. ~ Ash Parsons

He leaned on the bar. "I'm Tony. And you owe me."
Okay, here we go, Liza thought, and leaned on the bar, too, mirroring him. "I owe you?"
"Yes." He grinned at her. "Because of chaos theory."
Liza shook her head. "Chaos theory."
He moved closer to her. "Chaos theory says that complex dynamical systems become unstable because of disturbances in their environments after which a strange attractor draws the trajectory of the stress."
Liza looked at him, incredulous. "This is your line?"
"I am a complex dynamical system," Tony said.
"Not that complex," Liza said.
"And I was stable until you caused a disturbance in my environment."
"Not that stable," Liza said.
Tony grinned. "And since you're the strangest attractor in the room, I followed the trajectory of my stress right to you."
"That's not what you followed to me." Liza turned so that her back was against the bar, her shoulder blocking him. "Give me something better than that, or I'll find somebody else to amuse myself with."
From the corner of her eye, she saw the other guy, the vacant-looking blond, lean down to Bonnie. "Is she always like this?" he said to Bonnie, and Liza turned to size him up. Big. Husky. Boring.
"Well, your friend isn't exactly Prince Charming," Bonnie said, giving him her best fluttery smile.
He beamed back down at her. "Neither am I. Is that okay?"
Oh, come on, Liza thought, and caught Tony-the-bullethead's eye.
Jennifer Crusie

Make your life count, Henry David Weston. For when you reach the end of your days, you will not look back and wish you'd garnered more money, or power, or fame. You will look back and wish that you had been a better parent, spouse, friend, and Christian. And you will wish for just a little more time with those you love. ~ Julie Klassen

Sometimes you're working in highly emotional scenes and you'll get lost in the moment. You're having fun with your friend at work. It's an opportunity to give to them as much as they've given back to you. ~ Milo Ventimiglia

That they were torn from mistakes they had no chance to fix; everything unfinished. All the sins of love without detail, detail without love. The regret of having spoken, of having run out of time to speak. Of hoarding oneself. Of turning one's back too often in favour of sleep. I tried to imagine their physical needs, the indignity of human needs grown so extreme they equal your longing for wife, child, sister, parent, friend. But truthfully I couldn't even begin to imagine the trauma of their hearts, of being taken in the middle of their lives. Those with young children. Or those newly in love, wrenched from that state of grace. Or those who had lived invisibly, who were never know. ~ Anne Michaels

How about whatever song comes on next, that's our song. It'll be fate."
"We can't just make our own fate."
"Sure we can." Peter reaches over to turn on the radio.
"Wait! Just any radio station? What if it's not a slow song?"
"Okay so we'll put on Lite 101." Peter hits the button.
"Winnie the Pooh doesn't know what to do, got a honey jar stuck on his nose," a woman croons.
Peter says, "What the hell?" as I say, "This can't be our song."
"Best out of three?" he suggests.
"Let's not force it. We'll know it when we hear it, I think."
"Maybe we'll hear it at the prom," Peter offers. "Oh, that reminds me. What color is your dress? My mom's going to ask her florist friend to make your corsage."
"It's dusty pink." It came in the mail yesterday, and when I tried it on for everybody, Trina said it was "the most Lara Jean" dress she'd ever seen. I texted a picture to Stormy, who wrote back, "Ooh-la-la," with a dancing woman emoji.
"What the heck is dusty pink?" Peter wants to know.
"It's like a rose gold color." Peter still looks confused, so I sigh and say, "Just tell your mom. She'll know. ~ Jenny Han

You're my best friend and I love you. I'm not ashamed to admit that I love a guy. I love you, Holder. Daniel Weasley loves Dean Holder. Always and forever."
"Daniel, go make out with your girlfriend," he says, waving me off.
I shake my head. "Not until you tell me you love me, too."
His head falls back against Sky's headboard. "I fucking love you, now GO AWAY!"
I grin. "I love you more. ~ Colleen Hoover

What am I busy doing at lunch?" I asked. "Did you want to go pick out some more paint? Because I thought you were still working on the GTO and the SS."

"No," he answered, not moving an inch, but instead, just watching me. "I brought you fucking lunch."

He brought me - did he just say lunch?

"There's a thing in the fridge with your name on it," Rip kept going, watching me steadily. "I could use your help later if you've got time."

All I heard was something about him needing my help if I had time, but what I really focused on was the container in the fridge with my name on it.

"Come get me if you do," he said, taking a step back like he hadn't just surprised the crap out of me.

But I could still get a few thoughts together, at least enough to call out, "What am I going to be doing tomorrow?"

He was still walking backward as he told me, "I'm bringing you lunch tomorrow too."

What was happening?

What was happening?

"You don't have to bribe me to be your friend! I've been waiting for this for years, Rip," I hollered after him, ignoring the way my stomach had just felt like we'd started a descent from a steep roller-coaster ride.

I'd swear I heard a chuckle as he answered, "Get to fucking work and come get me if you've got time to help me out."

We were friends.

We were.

Favor or not, you didn't bring someone food who you weren't f ~ Mariana Zapata

I don't want your love. I want the same love you want. I don't want your love. I want what you want & we can find It together & share our deepening experience of It….I thought it was your love I wanted and it hurt so much when you couldn't give it. I even made a bargain that if I gave it to you, I could expect it back. I thought you agreed to this bargain. I thought you were part of the deal.

I lived in fear that your love would disappear. I moved so deeply into the veil. Now I hear within me the whispering of something else. I feel the possibility of a Love that has nothing to do with you – an infinite resource that it always there. This Love is not affected by any condition, nor does it change in the stream of time. It is the same Love whether my body is strong or weak, whether I am rich and bountiful in material things or whether I am poor. It is not affected by things of this world. This is the Love that brings release. This is the Love that dissolves chains. This is the love that brings peace. This is the only Love I want. It releases you, my friend, from all our contracts."

Stephen Schwartz, Compassionate Presence ~ Stephen R. Schwartz

To live is to prepare for goodbye
For loneliness is a friend
who will not betray.
Shiver not in the pouring love,
instead buy an umbrella
Believe not in happiness,
even in the passions of love…
Confess not your love,
even if you would die for it.
For love is like a season
It comes and goes to decorate life's boredom
The moment you call it Love,
it melts away, an ice sculpture…
Goodbye, Someday.
Happiness lasts not forever
As Despair lasts not forever.
Some days, there is Goodbye
some days, there is Hello.
At death,
some look back on being loved
While some look back on having loved…
I'll definitely look back on having loved… ~ Hitonari Tsuji

A true friend knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you forget the words ~ Unknown

So here's where they put you. I didn't think they even used these cells anymore." He glanced sideways. "I got the wrong window at first. Gave your friend in the next cell something of a shock. Attractive fellow, what with the beard and the rags. Kind of reminds me of the street folk back home. ~ Cassandra Clare

What remains of the dead? What remains of every one of us?

Tombstones sink in, moss covers them, and after a few centuries the name can no longer be read. Every forgotten grave is designated a new corpse.

As the generations passed, remembrance of the dead diminished until it was forgotten. What was called everlasting peace only lasted half a century. The bones were disturbed as the graveyards were mulched in to suburbs.

The earth had become too small, for the living and the dead. In half a century a funeral had become a luxury that only few could afford who had died before judgment day. But who cares about a single body when the whole planet is dying.

[...]

Earlier the remains of humanity had only had the right to be there as long as the living remembered them. A human being remembers their relatives, their friends and colleagues. But his conscience only reached back three generations before it faded away. Just more then fifty years.

With the same ease, you let the picture of our grandfather or your friend from school out of our conscience into absolute nothingness. The memories of a human can last longer than the bones, but as soon as the last one who remembered us has passed we dissolve with time.

[...]

Back then there was almost no more space in the thick family album for old and brown turned pictures, but almost nobody that looked through it could say for sure who was on the photos. ~ Dmitry Glukhovsky

Create your own permission slip for joy. Write three words: Accept. Adapt. Depend. Carry this permission slip with you. Tell your friends you're working on becoming more content, more joyful. Take a nap. Live with a messy house for a time. Order takeout. File an extension on your taxes. Stare out the window. Linger in the company of a friend. Breathe in the fullness of life. Use those words to fight back with joy. ~ Margaret Feinberg

You had a fucking friend who needed you. What the hell was that, Jocelyn?"
He shook his head slowly. "Don't," he whispered hoarsely, dipping his head so our noses were almost touching. "Don't do this. Not now. Whatever shit your spinning in that head of yours, stop. She needs you, babe." He shallowed hard, his eyes glimmering in the streetlights. "I need you."
I felt that familiar choking in the bottom of my throat. "I didn't ask you to need me," I whispered back.
I saw it. The hurt flickered across his face before he quickly banked it. Abruptly, he let go of me. "Fine. I don't have time for your multitude of emotional issues. I have a wee sister who may or may not have brain cancer, and she needs me, even if you don't. But I'll tell you something Jocelyn," he stepped forward, point a finger in my face, his own hardened with anger, "If you don't see her through this, you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life. You can pretend you don't give a shit about me, but you can't pretend Ellie means nothing to you. I've seen you. Do you hear me?" He hissed, his hot breath blowing across my face, his words cutting though my soul. "You love her. You can't sweep that under the rug because it's easier to pretend she means nothing to you than it is to bear the thought of losing her. She deserves better than that. ~ Samantha Young

That's where it all starts," she said. "The Big Man. Then his assistant, or his family, or his friend, or his tribe. It's the same whether you want a phone, or a visa, or a job. Who are your relatives? Who do you know? If you don't know somebody, you can forget it. That's what the Old Man never understood, you see. He came back here thinking that because he was so educated and spoke his proper English and understood his charts and graphs everyone would somehow put him in charge. He forgot what holds everything together here. ~ Barack Obama

Destiny pulls us forward while the disappointments of our past try to drag us back; back into the mud of mediocrity and complacency. Our life soon becomes a tug-of-war of mental and emotional anguish, until the final decision is made. We must resolve within our soul the question; do I go forward, retreat and give up, or simply stand still? My friend, there is only one logical answer to this question, that has plagued the minds of every human on earth – go forward! Embrace the passion that burns within your soul, because the pursuit of happiness is really the pursuit of Destiny. ~ James A. Jimason

The surprise and relief of being held so securely by a friend she had not expected to see overwhelmed Evie completely. She felt the pain in her eyes and throat sharpen, until she could no longer hold back her sobs. Lillian tightened her embrace. "You should have seen my reaction when Annabelle and Daisy told me what you had done," she said, patting Evie's back firmly. "I nearly dropped to the floor, and then I called down all sorts of curses on St. Vincent's head for taking advantage of you. I was tempted to come here and shoot him myself. But it appears that someone else spared me the trouble."
"I love him," Evie whispered between sobs.
"You can't," Lillian said flatly.
"Yes, I love him, and I'm going to lose him just as I did my father. I can't bear it…I'll go mad."
Lillian sighed and muttered, "Only you could love such a vile, selfish peacock, Evie. Oh, I'll admit, he has his attractions…but you would do better to fix your affections on someone who could actually love you back."
"Lillian," came Evie's watery protest.
"Oh, all right, I suppose it's not sporting to disparage a man when he's bedridden. I'll hold my tongue for the time being." She drew back and looked into Evie's splotched face. "The others wanted to come, of course. But Daisy is unmarried and therefore can't even sneeze without a chaperone, and Annabelle tires easily because of her condition. Westcliff and I are here, however, and we're going to make everything all right."< ~ Lisa Kleypas

What you lend is lost; when you ask for it back, you may find a friend made an enemy by your kindness. If you begin to press him further, you have the choice of two things
either to lose your loan or lose your friend. ~ Plautus

From my father I had learned, long after I had stopped following him along the paths, that in certain lives there are mountains to which we may never return. That in lives like his and mine, you cannot go back to the mountain that is in the center of all the rest, and at the beginning of your own story. And that wandering around the eight mountains is all that remains for those who, like us, on the first and highest, have lost a friend ~ Paolo Cognetti

A friend of mine has a daughter who . . . . was constantly writing home for more money. . . . At one point . . . the daughter explained, "But dad, I can tell you where every penny you have sent me has been spent."

He replied, "You don't seem to get the point. I'm interested in a budget--a plan for spending--not in a diary of where the money has gone."

Perhaps parents should be more like the father of the college boy who wired home, "No mon, no fun, your son." His father wired back, "How sad, too bad, your dad. ~ N. Eldon Tanner

I want to have my friend back, so I need to set him straight. I am by his side and he looks up to see me. I speak before he can say anything.
"Are you talking to me yet? Because I don't believe you're justified in your anger. I get to make my own decision about the relationships that I may or may not have. And I can choose at what pace I have that relationship. If you don't like it, then tough. You're happy - you have Bethany. Let me find my own happiness. You can't tell me what to do about this. I have to make up my own mind. Okay? ~ Isabelle Joshua

What great gravity is this that drew my soul towards yours? What great force, that though I went falsely, went kicking, went disguising myself to earn your love, also disguised, to earn your keeping, your resting, your staying, your will fleshed into mine, rasped by a slowly revealed truth, the barter of my soul, the soul that I fear, the soul that I loathe, the soul that: if you will love, I will love. I will redeem you, if you will redeem me? Is this our purpose, you and I together to pacify each other, to lead each other toward the lie that we are good, that we are noble, that we need not redemption, save the one that you and I invented of our own clay? I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.

I went looking, I wrote out a list, I drew an image, I bled a poem of you. You were pretty and my friends believed I was worthy of you. You were clever, but I was smarter, perhaps the only one smarter, the only one able to lead you. You see, love, I did not love you, I loved me. And you were only a tool that I used to fix myself, to fool myself, to redeem myself. And though I have taught you to lay your lily hand in mine, I walk alone, for I cannot talk to you, lest you talk it back to me, lest I believe that I am not worthy, not deserving, not redeemed.

I want desperately for you to be my friend. But you are not my friend; you have slid up warmly to the man I wanted to be, the man I pretended to be, and I was your Jesus and, you were mine. Should I s ~ Donald Miller

The real you, the inner you, is pure, very pure. It's loving and it's magnanimous. It understands. It has patience. It is tolerant-it will wait forever while your ego trots all over everywhere trying to figure life out. It is pleasing to remember that back home there is a friend who's waiting for you to stop being silly, who's waiting to welcome you with open arms if and when you show up. ~ Stuart Wilde

Some people are willing to betray years of friendship just to get a little bit of the spotlight. ~ Lauren Conrad

But it wasn't. They both knew that. Darling wasn't sure if it, or he, would ever be all right again. "Have you ever felt lost, Mari?" He folded his hands in front of him in a somber pose that was out of character for him. "Yes, I have. And I know that place of crazy where you asphyxiate every time reality crashes down and you see the nightmare that has become your life. The darkness that swallows you whole until you fear you'll never see light again." Darling paused by his side. "How did you find your way home?" "I didn't." Maris reached out and brushed a strand of Darling's hair back from his mask. "My best friend found me wandering in the darkness and carried me back to the light." Darling ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

I meant it," he says.
"You meant what?"
"What I said in your apartment."
"You did?"
He nods.
We drop our cloths on the ground and hug each other. The path and the mountains and the entire world seem to slip away beneath us until only he and I remain. Then the sun rises over the peaks and warms my naked back. Of all the birthday gifts ever given in the history of the world, I can't imagine one better than an embrace like this from your best friend. ~ Ryan Winfield

I thought you weren't allowed to have a phone," he says. "Or was that a really pathetic excuse to avoid giving me your number?"
"I'm not allowed. My best friend gave it to me the other day. It can't do anything but text." He turns the screen around to face me. "What the hell kind
of texts are these?" He turns the phone around and reads one.
"Sky, you are beautiful. You are possibly the most exquisite creature in the universe and if anyone tells you otherwise, I'll cut a bitch." He arches
an eyebrow and looks up at me, then back down to the phone. "Oh, God. They're all like this. Please tell me you don't text these to yourself for daily
motivation. ~ Colleen Hoover