Why She Leave Me Quotes

Breaking the kiss when she had reached the point where she had begun to hope he would never stop, he surged over her and she felt his need digging into her belly as he burrowed his face against her neck. "Don't torture me anymore. I am repentant. I swear."
She opened her eyes to look at him as he lifted his head.
His features were drawn and harsh with painful need. "I have never been more miserable in my life, Mellie, and the only way you could possibly make me more miserable is to leave where I can not even see you."
Lifting a hand, she stroked his hard cheek. He turned his face into her palm, kissing it. "Don't make beg, Mellie."
"Why?"
A pained look flickered across his features. "Because I will, and my ego might never recover. ~ Julia Keaton

I'd really like to go with you, Agachak. Truly I would ... but I just can't."
"I don't understand. Why not?"
"I'm not allowed to leave home. My mother'd punish me something awful if I did ... "
"But you're the king."
"That doesn't change a thing. I still do what mother says. She tells everybody that I'm the best boy ever when it comes to that."
Agachak resisted a powerful urge to change this half-wit into a toad or perhaps a jellyfish. ~ David Eddings

I started to stand, but I neeed to say more to Tracey. "Tracey, I apologize again for calling you 'Arvey' all that time."
Her whole body, already still, stiffened.
"I wouldn't have done it if I had known your real name."
One hand slipped up under her hair, as if swiping a tear.
"I hope you never do anything like the picture again because it caused a lot of trouble, but there's something important I want you to know."
She slowly raised her head and faxed me with damp, red eyes.
Memory took me back to that night Grandma explained why she was so happy in spite of the horrors she had survived. I wanted to do what Grandma had done – leave the bad times behind so I could enjoy the good times. I wanted to close the door on this whole drama.
"Tracey, I forgive you. ~ Brenda Vicars

It was awfully quiet. Chicago only gets this quiet when it snows, he thought. And then he flipped open the phone, pressed the voice button, and said "Katherine." He said it softly, reverently.

Five rings and then her voice mail. Hey, it's Katherine, he heard, and in the background cars rushed by. They'd been walking home together from the RadioShack when she recorded the message. I'm not, uh. And she uhed, he remembered, because he'd goosed her butt as she tried to talk. Uh, at my cell phone, I guess. Leave me a message and I'll call you back. And he remembered everything about it, and also everything about everything else, and why couldn't he forget and beep.

"Hey, it's Col. I'm standing in a soybean field outside of Gutshot, Tennessee, which is a long story, and it's hot. K. I'm standing here sweating like I had hyperhidrosis, that disease where you sweat a lot. Crap. That's not interesting. But anyway, it's hot, and so I'm thinking about cold to stay cool. And I was remembering walking through the snow coming back from the ridiculous movie. Do you remember that, K? We were on Giddings, and the snow made it so quiet, I couldn't hear a thing in the world but you. And it was so cold then, and so silent, and I loved you so much. Now it's hot, and dead quiet again, and I love you still."

Five minutes later, he was trudging back when his phone began vibrating. He raced back to the spot with good reception and, breathless answered.

"Di ~ John Green

44. [...] later that afternoon, a therapist will say to me, "If he hadn't lied to you, he would have been a different person than he is." She is trying to get me to see that although I thought I loved this man very completely for exactly who he was, I was in fact blind to the man he actually was, or is.
45. This pains me enormously. She presses me to say why; I can't answer. Instead I say something about how clinical psychology forces everything we call love into the pathological or the delusional or the biologically explicable, that if what I was feeling wasn't love then I am forced to admit that I don't know what love is, or, more simply, that I loved a bad man. How all of these formulations drain the blue right out of love and leave an ugly, pigmentless fish flapping on a cutting board on a kitchen counter. ~ Maggie Nelson

You have shoes to match."
"I do?"
"You do, yes, and go with diamonds. Leave the color to the dress."
"Which diamonds? Do you know how many you give me? Why do you do that?"
The aggrieved sound of her voice amused him nearly as much as giving her diamonds. "It's a sickness. I'll get them for you once you're dressed."
She said nothing, and stood where she was as he selected a dark suit from his forest of suits, a slate-colored shirt, and a stone-colored tie.
"How come you don't wear color?"
"The better to serve as the backdrop for my beautiful wife."
She narrowed her eyes. "You had that one ready."
"The truth is always ready."
She jabbed a finger at him. "That one, too."
"Such a cynic. ~ J.D. Robb

A sigh escaped her as her brother's truthful words battled her stubborn nature.
Much as she hated giving in to their no driving order - well-intentioned or not - she wouldn't operate a motor vehicle if she could prove a danger to others.
"Fine, so if I can't drive myself, then who is taking me home?"
Six pairs of eyes found the ceiling suddenly intensely interesting.
Irritation made her lips draw tight. "Oh, come on. Surely one of you idiots can handle my car?"
Kendrick cleared his throat before speaking. "Um, the last time Mitchell drove your car, you almost castrated him because he didn't shift it to your satisfaction. You told us never to touch your car again, or else."
Naomi blew out a breath. Pussies.
How could they blame her for taking offence at the brutish manner with which they drove her baby?
They'd deserved each, and every, smack. And then, they had the nerve to wonder why she wanted to get away from the shifters and their violence. They bloody well drove her to it.
"I am not staying here."
Not with her mother due home within the hour from work. Once her mom walked through that door, Naomi would be lucky if she got to leave a bed within the next three days.
The men in her family might fear their baby sister even as they coddled her, but everyone obeyed their mother.
Nobody owned the balls not to. ~ Eve Langlais

She can sense things . . . Things the rest of us can't.She only knew there was a strange feel to you, and she'd only ever felt that around one other person. So she brought you to me."
"Seems like she could have done that without me having to carry a household's worth of stuff."
This made him laugh. "Don't take it personally. She was testing you. She wanted to see if you're a worthy match for her grandson."
"What's the point? He's dead now." I nearly choked on the words.
"True, but for her, it's still important. And, by the way, she does think you're worthy."
"She has a funny way of showing it."

[..]

Paul stuck his head out the back door. "Grandmother wants to leave now," he told me. "She wants to know why you're taking so long and said to ask why you'd make someone as old as her keep waiting and suffering with her back."
I recalled how fast Yeva had been walking while I struggled to keep up with my load. Her back hadn't seemed all that bad to me.
"Okay. I'll be right there." When he was gone, I shook my head. "It's hard being worthy. ~ Richelle Mead

I want you to know how proud I am. You're doing the right thing, and I don't want you to worry about what's going to happen after. We'll figure it out." She looked back at David and beamed, as happy as I'd ever seen her.
"I have no doubt of that. Although I do have one serious concern."
"Yes?"
"UPARG? It doesn't roll off the tongue in quite the same way IPCA did."
Raquel heaved a why must you joke at inappropriate times sigh, then lifted her chin haughtily. "Well, maybe we won't invite you to be a part of it, then."
I laughed. "Please, by all means, leave me out. I think it's high time I retire."
"Even if we issue you your own custom companion Taser for Tasey?"
I pursed my lips thoughtfully. "We'll talk when I'm done here. ~ Kiersten White

Leave it to the English to fabricate a lake," she tossed over her shoulder to Carla, who snickered.
"And leave it to the Italians to fall into it!"
"I was retrieving my hat!"
"Ah . . . that makes it all much more logical. Do you even know how to swim?"
"Do I know how to swim?" she asked, and he took more than a little pleasure in her offense.
"I was raised on the banks of the Adige! Which happens to be a real river."
"Impressive," he said, not at all impressed. "And tell me, did you ever swim in said river?"
"Of course! But I wasn't wearing" - she waved a hand to indicate her dress - "sixteen layers of fabric!"
"Why not?"
"Because you don't swim in sixteen layers of fabric!"
"No?"
"No!"
"Why not?" He had her now.
"Because you will drown!"
"Ah," he said, rocking back on his heels. "Well, at least we've learned something today. ~ Sarah MacLean

Yeah, I worry what will happen when we stop running. When we go back to school. When she meets other boys. Boys who don't argue and snap at her. Boys who don't obsessively worry about her. Boys that could take her to a movie and stay right until the end, not have to leave halfway through because he started turning into a wolf. But she wouldn't pick up some random guy in the mall. Ever.
So why was I over-reacting? I don't know. I saw the guy and something ignited in my brain, a flash-fire that burned away reason and common sense. If Simon hadn't stopped me, I'd have made an idiot of myself and called attention to us. Worse, I'd have embarrassed Chloe. I was over-protective enough as it was. Frothing at the mouth because a guy talked to her? Really not going help us get to that next anniversary. ~ Kelley Armstrong

I'll need a house key," she said as she followed him into the house.
"Why?"
The question so stupefied her that she stopped in her tracks and stared at him. "So I can get in when you aren't here," she explained as slowly and carefully as if he were just now learning English.
In response he said, "Let me show you something," in almost exactly the same tone she'd used. He pulled the door shut with a bang. "See that round thing? We call it a doorknob, and we use it to open the door. Pay attention, now. See how I put my hand on the doorknob? Turn it to the right, and - " Slowly he demonstrated, and triumphantly thrust the door open. "I'll be damned if the door doesn't open! That's how you get in when I'm not here."
Ohhh, bonus points for both the demonstration and the sarcasm; she knew great smart-ass-ness when she saw it, and this was championship.
"Correction," she cooed. "That's how it used to work. From now on you'll need a key, because I will be locking the door while I'm here alone during the day, and if I go to Battle Ridge for supplies I'll lock the door when I leave. I hope you have two keys, otherwise you'll be knocking on the door to be let into your own house." Then, because she couldn't help herself, she smirked at him.
He crossed his arms and leaned a broad shoulder against the doorframe. His expression hadn't lightened, but a glint in those green eyes suddenly gave her the impression he was almost enjoying himself. ~ Linda Howard

You've passed like three stores that sell batteries," she says. "We need to get one now in case it's too late on our way back."

"You don't need a battery. Your battery is fine," I say.
I avoid looking over at her but I can see her watching me, waiting for more explanation.

I don't immediately respond. I flick the blinker on and turn onto my grandparent's street. When I pull into their driveway, I turn the car off and tell her the truth. What harm could it do at this point?

"I unhooked your battery cable before you tried to leave today." I don't wait for her reaction as I get out of the car and slam the door. I'm not sure why I slam the car door. I'm not mad at her, I'm just frustrated. Frustrated that she doubts me after all this time.

"You what!?" she yells. When she gets out of the car, she slams her door intentionally.

I keep walking, shielding the wind and snow with my jacket until I reach the front door. She rushes after me. I almost walk inside without knocking but remember how it feels, so I knock.

"I said I unhooked your battery cable. How else was I going to convince you to ride with me?"

"That's real mature, Will. ~ Colleen Hoover

Elizabeth," he said, trying not to laugh. "At a wedding reception, the guests cannot leave until the bride and groom retire. If you look over there, you'll notice my great-aunts are already nodding in their chairs."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, instantly contrite. "I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because," he said, taking her elbow and beginning to guide her from the ballroom, "I wanted you to enjoy every minute of our ball, even if we had to prop the guests up on the shrubbery."
"Speaking of shrubbery," she teased, pausing on the balcony to cast a last fond look at the "arbor" of potted trees with silk blossoms that occupied one-fourth the length of the entire ballroom, "everyone is talking about having gardens and arbors as themes for future balls. I think you've stared a new 'rage.'"
"You should have seen your face," he teased, drawing her away, "when you recognized what I had done."
"We are probably the only couple," she returned her face turned up to his in laughing conspiracy, "ever to lead off a ball by dancing a waltz on the sidelines." When the orchestra had struck up the opening waltz, Ian had led her into the mock "arbor," and they had started the ball from there.
"Did you mind?"
"You know I didn't," she returned, walking beside him up the curving staircase.
He stopped outside her bed chamber, opened the door for her, and started to pull her into his arms, then checked himself as a pair of servants came marching down ~ Judith McNaught

* She said, why don't we both just sleep on it tonight
And I believe, in the morning you'll begin to see the light
And then she kissed me and I realized she probably was right
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover, fifty ways to leave your lover
Paul Simon, Still Crazy After All These Years (1975), 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover
First thing I remember when you came into my life
I said I wanna get that girl, no matter what I do
Well I guess I've been in love before and once or twice have been on the floor
But I've never loved no-one the way that I love you. ~ Paul Simon

Pudge/Colonel:
"I am sorry that I have not talked to you before. I am not staying for graduation. I leave for Japan tomorrow morning. For a long time, I was mad at you. The way you cut me out of everything hurt me, and so I kept what I knew to myself.

But then even after I wasn't mad anymore, I still didn't say anything, and I don't even really know why. Pudge had that kiss,

I guess. And I had this secret.
You've mostly figured this out, but the truth is that I saw her that night, I'd stayed up late with Lara and some people, and then I was falling asleep and I heard her crying outside my back window. It was like 3:15 that morning, maybe, amd I walked out there and saw her walking through the soccer field. I tried to talk to her, but she was in a hurry. She told me that her mother was dead eight years that day, and that she always put flowers on her mother's grave on the anniversary but she forgot that year. She was out there looking for flowers, but it was too early-too wintry. That's how

I knew about January 10. I still have no idea whether it was suicide.

She was so sad, and I didn't know what to say or do. I think she counted on me to be the one person who would always say and do the right things to help her, but I couldn"t. I just thought she was looking for flowers. I didn't know she was going to go. She was drunk just trashed drunk, and I really didn't think she would drive or anything. I thought she would ~ John Green

My love, why did you leave me on Lexington Avenue in the Ford that had no brakes?
It stalled in the traffic and broke down outside her window. She was writing a letter: I love you very much: Careful Now in capitals.
That was a different letter.
Yes, but I get confused. One day she saw a golden oriel in the orchard. One day she said, Then have your orgy with Blondie, work out your passion on her.
I see it all, the poop of burnished gold. If I got angry and made a scene?
But No. No.
No, I believe you, of course, I believe you for didn't you say I was the one? Yes, you said, Take care of this girl for she is what makes my blood circulate and all the stars revolve and the seasons return.
This was my dream, and why I had circles under my eyes this morning at breakfast. Everyone noticed it, and I think one of them sniggered.
You don't take much interest in politics, do you? You never read the newspapers? I drank my coffee, but I had a slight feeling of nausea. It's to be expected, I don't mind it at all, it's nothing.
My love, are you feeling better?
He can't talk, he can only mutter.
O my dear, O my dear, drink a little milk, lie down and rest a little. I will comfort you. I can carry love like Saint Christopher. It is heavy, but I can carry it. It's the stones of suspicion I stumble on. Did I say suspicion? No.
No. No. It's nothing. I love you. A slight feeling of nausea, that's all.
After a while I got out into the ~ Elizabeth Smart

One morning as I was leaving, the director said I didn't have to leave the set anymore. What happened? Why did they change their ways of treating me? I came to the realization that it was because I had a mother. My mother spoke highly of me, and to me. But more important, whether they met her or simply heard about her, she was there with me. She had my back, supported me. This is the role of the mother, and in that visit I really saw clearly, and for the first time, why a mother is really important. Not just because she feeds and also loves and cuddles and even mollycoddles a child, but because in an interesting and maybe an eerie and unworldly way, she stands in the gap. She stands between the unknown and the known. In Stockholm, my mother shed her protective love down around me and without knowing why people sensed that I had value. ~ Maya Angelou

I'm sorry you got dragged into this." He waved a hand to indicate he meant the house, the entire situation. "Having to stay here, with me, when you should be home with your family." A pang of homesickness hit her as she thought of her parents and how disappointed they'd been that her leave had been "cancelled". That wasn't his fault though.
To ease his concern, she put on a smile. "Yeah, but hey, I could've done way worse in terms of roommates." She gave his leg a playful nudge with her hand.
His eyes warmed at her words and touch. The firelight brought out the deep bronze undertones in his hair, flickering in tones of gold and orange. She wanted to run her fingers through it to find out if it was as soft as it looked.
He shook his head slightly at her, looking amused. "Why'd you have to be so sweet?"
She shrugged and countered, "Why'd you have to be so damned good looking? ~ Kaylea Cross

Would you leave me alone, you walking pair of boots! Let go of my easel, you refugee from a luggage factory. If you need some wood for a toothpick, there's a bunch of it on the porch. (Sunshine) Beth. What are you doing? ... She says she was forcing you inside before it got dark and something decided to eat you. (Talon) Tell Swamp Breath I was headed this way. Why was she ... Oh jeez, am I really have a conversation with a gator? (Sunshine) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

You and McNab sat around talking about women and sports."

"I don't believe we got to sports. He had a woman on his mind."

Eve's sneer vanished. "You talked to him about Peabody? Damn it, Roarke."

"I could hardly slap him back. He's so pitifully smitten."

"Oh." She winced. "Don't use that word."

"It fits. In fact, if he took my advice ..." He turned his wrist, glanced at the unit fastened there. "They should be well into their first date by now."

"Date? Date? Why did you do that? Why did you go and do something like that? Couldn't you leave it alone? They'd have had sex until they burned out on it, and everything would go back to normal."

He angled his head. "That didn't work for us, did it?"

"We don't work together." Then, when his eyes brightened with pure amusement, she showed her teeth. "Officially. You start mixing cops and romance and case files and gooey looks at briefings, you've got nothing but a mess. Next thing you know, Peabody will be wearing lip dye and smelly girl stuff and dragging body skimmers under her uniform."

She dropped her head in her hands. "Then they'll have tiffs and misunderstandings that have nothing whatsoever to do with the job. They'll come at me from both sides, and before you know it, they'll be telling me things I absolutely do not want to know. And when they break it off and decide they hate each other down to the guts, I'll have to hear about ~ J.D. Robb

In a very deliberate motion, he squared my shoulders in front of his and clasped my arms. "I know I could never ask you to leave River Oaks. It means a lot more to you than my family's house means to me. Your aunt Jettie is there. It's your home. I would like it to be my home, too. I want to make a life with you, and for most people, that means living in the same house."
Gabriel kissed me, as gentle as an angel's wing brushing across my lips. "You're my bloodmate in every sense of the word, the person I choose to spend the rest of my immortal life with, if you can stand me that long."
"That's what that means?" My forehead wrinkled in concentration, and I tried to remember the first time I'd hear that word. "Wait, you told Missy the crazy Realtor that she'd suffer dire consequences if she hurt your 'bloodmate.' That was more than a year ago."
"I knew even then. You're it for me, Jane. You're my eternity."
"Well, why couldn't you have told me?" I exclaimed.
Gabriel shrugged. "You - "
"I wasn't ready to hear it yet," I finished for him. "I'm sorry." But as the enormity of what Gabriel had just said sunk in, a huge grin split my face.
I brought it under control, so I could narrow my eyes at him. "So, you're saying you will tell me everything now. You won't try to protect me or keep me in the dark. You'll trust me to make a rational decision about bad news after I have my inevitable, initial panic attack?"
He nodded solemnly. "I will."
~ Molly Harper

She saw Derek and without so much as a hello, leaned to look behind him. "Where's Simon?"
"He's - "
"Is he okay? Why isn't he here?" She glared up at Derek. "Where'd you leave him?"
"Passed out in an alley." Derek frowned in thought. "Not sure where, though ... "
"He's kidding," I said as Tori sputtered.
"We need to get moving." Derek hooked a thumb as Tori while looking at me. " She's your responsibility."
"Excuse me?" Tori said.
Derek didn't even glance her way. "Make sure she keeps up. And shuts up." ~ Kelley Armstrong

Christian growled in anger at his wife's unreasonable temper. "Fine, Adara. Whenever you decide to grow up and act responsibly, I shall be in our tent."
"Me, irresponsible? You're the one who wants to run away. So go. Leave. Creta. Au revior. Bon voyage. Auf Wiedersehen. Vaarwel. Arrivederci ... "
Christian glared at her even though she wasn't even looking at him. "I understood you the first time."
"Then why are you still here? ~ Kinley MacGregor

I WANT YOU TO TELL ME ABOUT EVERY PERSON YOU'VE EVER BEEN IN LOVE WITH. TELL ME WHY YOU LOVED THEM, THEN TELL ME WHY THEY LOVED YOU. TELL ME ABOUT A DAY IN YOUR LIFE YOU DIDN'T THINK YOU'D LIVE THROUGH. TELL ME WHAT THE WORD "HOME" MEANS TO YOU AND TELL ME IN A WAY THAT I'LL KNOW YOUR MOTHER'S NAME JUST BY THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE YOUR BED ROOM WHEN YOU WERE 8. SEE, I WANNA KNOW THE FIRST TIME YOU FELT THE WEIGHT OF HATE AND IF THAT DAY STILL TREMBLES BENEATH YOUR BONES. DO YOU PREFER TO PLAY IN PUDDLES OF RAIN OR BOUNCE IN THE BELLIES OF SNOW? AND IF YOU WERE TO BUILD A SNOWMAN, WOULD YOU RIP TWO BRANCHES FROM A TREE TO BUILD YOUR SNOWMAN ARMS? OR WOULD YOU LEAVE THE SNOWMAN ARMLESS FOR THE SAKE OF BEING HARMLESS TO THE TREE? AND IF YOU WOULD, WOULD YOU NOTICE HOW THAT TREE WEEPS FOR YOU BECAUSE YOUR SNOWMAN HAS NO ARMS TO HUG YOU EVERY TIME YOU KISS HIM ON THE CHEEK? DO YOU KISS YOUR FRIENDS ON THE CHEEK? DO YOU SLEEP BESIDE THEM WHEN THEY'RE SAD, EVEN IF IT MAKES YOUR LOVER MAD? DO YOU THINK THAT ANGER IS A SINCERE EMOTION OR JUST THE TIMID MOTION OF A FRAGILE HEART TRYING TO BEAT AWAY ITS PAIN? SEE, I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF YOUR FIRST NAME. AND IF YOU OFTEN LIE AWAKE AT NIGHT AND IMAGINE YOUR MOTHER'S JOY WHEN SHE SPOKE IT FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME. I WANT YOU TELL ME ALL THE WAYS YOU'VE BEEN UNKIND. TELL ME ALL THE WAYS YOU'VE BEEN CRUEL. SEE, I WANNA KNOW MORE THAN WHAT YOU DO FOR A LIVING. I WANNA KNOW HOW MUCH OF YOUR LIFE YOU SPEND JUST GIVING. AND IF YOU LOVE YOURSE ~ Andrea Gibson

Bree rubbed her belly. Figured; Alessandro wasn't one to live in quiet but strained tension. She stared up at the fabric of the canopy and then squeezed her eyes shut. "Alessandro, considering that the outside world has the sterile hospital rooms, not to mention the epidurals, yeah. For goodness sake, Alessandro. You know we can't stay here forever. I'm entering my eighth month here."
"I must say, I'm surprised you're so anxious to leave."
"Why?" Bree asked, turning to look at his strong profile.
"You know why, Brianna. As soon as we walk out that door, you and I are over."
Bree felt a guilty tightening in her chest.
"Perhaps that's what you want, though."
"That's not fair," Bree whispered even as she feared he was right. No. He's wrong. I love him. She wasn't going to let anyone shake what she and Alessandro had built here. She'd let her family know that she wanted Alessandro in her life and that she wanted to be a family with him. "Thanks for your confidence in me, though. Really. ~ E. Jamie

This is why she has stayed, why she has waited, watching out the window, always looking out for the moment when I will turn into the driveway, always trying to look her best for when I come in the door. She has struggled to keep on, trying not to fall. To try to help me. She has not wanted to leave me alone. She has always wanted to be here for me, to do what she could. . ~ George Hodgman

She drew back from the spectacle of my humiliation and of her triumph. The sudden silence that had fallen upon me seemed to frighten her. "I spared you, at the time," she said. "I would have spared you now, if you had not forced me to speak." She moved away as if to leave the room-- and hesitated before she got to the door. "Why did you come here to humiliate yourself?" she asked. "Why did you come here to humiliate me?" She went on a few steps, and paused once more. "For God's sake, say something!" she exclaimed, passionately. "If you have any mercy left, don't let me degrade myself in this way! Say something--and drive me out of the room! ~ Wilkie Collins

And if she asks you why you can tell her that I told you
That I'm tired of Castles in the Air
I've got a dream I want the world to share in castle walls
Just leave me to despair
Hills of forest green where the mountains touch the sky
A dream come true, I'll live there 'til I die
I'm asking you, to say my last good-bye
The love we knew, ain't worth another try ~ Don McLean

Remus," said Hermione tentatively, "is everything all right . . . you know . . . between you and - "
"Everything is fine, thank you," said Lupin pointedly.
Hermione turned pink. There was another pause, an awkward and embarrassed one, and then Lupin said, with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, "Tonks is going to have a baby."
"Oh, how wonderful!" squealed Hermione.
"Excellent!" said Ron enthusiastically.
"Congratulations," said Harry.
Lupin gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace, then said, "So . . . do you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined."
Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry.
"Just - just to be clear," he said. "You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?"
"She'll be perfectly safe there, they'll look after her," said Lupin. He spoke with a finality bordering on indifference. "Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you."
"Well," said Harry slowly, "I'm not. I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually."
Lupin's face drained of color. The temperature in the kitchen might have dropped ten degrees. Ron stared around the room as though he had been ~ J.K. Rowling

I'm sipping cranberry-and-ginger-ale punch and talking to Aunt D. about her divorce when Peter Kavinsky walks in wearing a hunter-green sweater with a button-down shirt underneath, carrying a Christmas tin. I almost choke on my punch.
Kitty spots him when I do. "You came!" she cries. She runs right into his arms, and he puts down the cookie tin and picks her up and throws her around. When he sets her down, she takes him by the hand and over to the buffet table, where I'm busying myself rearranging the cookie plate.
"Look what Peter brought," she says, pushing him forward.
He hands me the cookie tin. "Here. Fruitcake cookies my mom made."
"What are you doing here?" I whisper accusingly.
"The kid invited me." He jerks his head toward Kitty, who has conveniently run back over to the puppy. Josh is standing up now, looking over at us with a frown on his face. "We need to talk."
So now he wants to talk. Well, too late. "We don't have anything to talk about."
Peter takes me by the elbow and I try to shake him off, but he won't let go. He steers me into the kitchen. "I want you to make up an excuse to Kitty and leave," I say. "And you can take your fruitcake cookies with you."
"First tell me why you're so pissed at me."
"Because!" I burst out. "Everyone is saying how we had sex in the hot tub and I'm a slut and you don't even care!"
"I told the guys we didn't!"
"Did you? Did you tell them that all we did was kiss and that's all ~ Jenny Han

Get away from the door." she whispered. "Both of you get out of here NOW." "Miss," said Alf. "We don't mean no..." "You don't know what you're getting into." she said. "You must leave here this instant." Alf, his face worried said to Peter. "Maybe we should..." "No," sad Peter, furious. "We've come this far, and we're going to go in there, and she can't stop us." "Yes I can." said Molly, her voice dead calm. Peter and Alf both looked at her. "I can scream." she said. "You wouldn't." Peter said. "Yes I would." "You don't dare." said Peter. "You're not supposed to be here, either. You'd be in as much trouble as us." "I could say I heard a noise," she said. "I heard something fall." she pointed to the padlcok. "I came to investigate, and when I saw you I screamed." "All right miss. said Alf. "No need for that." he put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Come on lad." "No," said Peter, shrugging off the hand, glaring at Molly. "You go if you want. She doesn't scare me." "I'm going to count," said Molly. "If you're not gone when I get to ten, I WILL scream." "You're bluffing." said Peter." said Peter. "One." said Molly. On the floor Leatherface stirred, rolling over, resumed snoring. "Little friend." whispered Alf, his tone urgent now. "I'm going." "Go then." said Peter. "Two." "Please little friend." "NO." "Three" "All right, then." said Alf, shaking his head. "Good luck, then." "Four" Alf was up the ladder and gone. "Five" "Why are you doing this?" hissed Peter. "Six. Because I have to ~ Dave Barry

You're right," Jacks said. "You're not part of my world. You're not one of those girls. And maybe that's why."
"Why what?"
"Why I can't stop thinking about you."
Maddy rolled her eyes. "Guys like you don't say that to girls like me."
"I've never said that to anyone, actually," Jacks corrected. "In fact, I've never done anything like this before." He let out a little laugh. "How am I doing?"
He swallowed hard, trying to push down his nervousness. He was astonished to realize he was nervous. Somehow being around Maddy just put him in a different space. Jacks felt so present.
Maddy stared at him, letting the anger and frustration surge through her.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked finally.
He paused, considering.
"I'm being honest. I know you may not believe me. But I haven't been able to not think about you. When we were in the back at the restaurant, and . . ." Jacks's voice trailed off, his face coloring. "I still feel terrible about what I did. I lied to you and, even though I had good reasons for it, it was wrong of me."
Maddy studied him. Was he telling the truth?
Jacks smiled. "I mean this in the best possible way: I'm not going to leave you alone until you let me make it up to you. I'm serious. I'll be here every night. You might as well get me some pajamas and a toothbrush."
Despite her best efforts not to, Maddy laughed. She looked at Jacks and could see the faintest twinkle of light ~ Scott Speer

Empress. -

I tensed. Was that . . . Matthew's voice? Why would he be in my head after all these months? How dare he contact me now! Leave me alone! A buzz in my ears grew louder and louder, like white-noise on steroids.

- Have a secret. He doesn't want me to tell you. -

His eerie tone gave me chills.

Aric hurried around the truck, snatching open my door. He leaned in, cradling my face in his shaking palms. He was speaking to me with dread in his eyes, but I couldn't hear a word.

Get out of my head, Fool!

- Listen. - A different voice carried into my mind: - "What kind of danger is she in? Damn it, tell me! What's coming, coo-yôn?" -

I whimpered. Jack??? Is that you? He sounded so close.

Blood kept pouring. My breaths shallowed till I was hyperventilating, on the verge of blacking out. But I was desperate to hear more of his voice. Jack, please answer me! ~ Kresley Cole

We should break up," she says. "I'm a disaster. I'll fuck everything up. I always fuck it up." Her voice is distressed and she looks like she's on her way to hyperventilating. "And you'll leave. Everyone leaves. And I don't know what I'm doing."

"You can't break up with me. We're not dating," I reply calmly and cross over to her, taking her hand so she'll stop twisting the hell out of her hair.

"Oh." She exhales in an audible puff as she tilts her head back to look at me. She swallows. "I can't?"

"Nope."

"Then what are we doing? Why are you so nice to me? You're always so freaking nice to me, Boyd. And attentive. And good in bed. And - "

"We're just Chloe-and-Boyding." I cut her off before she gets any more worked up.

"Chloe-and-Boyding?"

"Yes," I say then brush my lips along the shell of her ear. "Trust me, Chloe." I give her a gentle push back, because I'm not above distracting her with sex. Not one bit. I lie on the bed beside her and pull her to me. "And you can't go when there are so many fucks I haven't given you yet, Chloe. I'd like to give you all the fucks."

"All the fucks?" The tension eases from her body and her eyes flare, but in excitement instead of panic.

"All of them. The bossy fuck." I slip my hand under the hem of her shirt and lift it up and over her head. "The rough fuck." She lifts her hips as I grip the waistband of her leggings and tug. "The showe ~ Jana Aston

She didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?" Akos demanded.
"Cyra was working with us," Teka said. "During the attack on the sojourn ship, I was supposed to take her out--take our Ryzek's Scourge while announcing his fate on the intercom, see?"
"Don't call her that," Akos said. He felt Isae's eyes on him, and his cheeks went hot.
"Yeah, yeah." Teka waved him off. "Well, she bested me, and she let me go. And then she found me, requested a meeting. She offered to give us whatever we wanted--information, help, whatever--if we did something for her in exchange: get you out of Shotet." Teka looked at Jorek. "That's why she didn't tell him. Because she wanted to get him out, but he wouldn't leave without his brother."
Jorek clicked his tongue.
Those weeks after Ryzek had threatened him, after Cyra tortured Zosita and kept up appearances on Pitha, she had let him think she was just doing whatever Ryzek said. Let Akos believe the worst of her. And all that time she was out working with renegades, giving whatever she could to get him out. It was like she had become someone new and he hadn't even noticed. ~ Veronica Roth

To: Anna Oliphant
From: Etienne St. Clair
Subject: Uncommon Prostitues

I have nothing to say about prostitues (other than you'd make a terrible prostitute,the profession is much too unclean), I only wanted to type that. Isn't it odd we both have to spend Christmas with our fathers? Speaking of unpleasant matters,have you spoken with Bridge yet? I'm taking the bus to the hospital now.I expect a full breakdown of your Christmas dinner when I return. So far today,I've had a bowl of muesli. How does Mum eat that rubbish? I feel as if I've been gnawing on lumber.

To: Etienne St. Clair
From: Anna Oliphant
Subject: Christmas Dinner


MUESLY? It's Christmas,and you're eating CEREAL?? I'm mentally sending you a plate from my house. The turkey is in the oven,the gravy's on the stovetop,and the mashed potatoes and casseroles are being prepared as I type this. Wait. I bet you eat bread pudding and mince pies or something,don't you? Well, I'm mentally sending you bread pudding. Whatever that is. No, I haven't talked to Bridgette.Mom keeps bugging me to answer her calls,but winter break sucks enough already. (WHY is my dad here? SERIOUSLY. MAKE HIM LEAVE. He's wearing this giant white cable-knit sweater,and he looks like a pompous snowman,and he keeps rearranging the stuff on our kitchen cabinets. Mom is about to kill him. WHICH IS WHY SHE SHOULDN'T INVITE HIM OVER FOR HOLIDAYS). Anyway.I'd rather not add to the drama.

Stephanie Perkins

When Diana returned to work on Monday, September 16, she came directly to my bedroom and announced, "Mrs. Robertson, I have something important to tell you." I could see out of the corner of my eye that she had a slight, mischievous grin on her face.
"Go right ahead," I said as I continued to blow-dry my hair in front of the mirror above the dresser.
"No, Mrs. Robertson, I'd like your full attention." I switched off my hair dryer and faced her as she stood in the doorway. "When you leave for work this morning, you'll notice a lot of reporters and photographers at the entrance to the mews."
I wondered aloud if the press were following either Lord Vestey, a notorious international financier, or John Browne, a bright young M.P. known as one of "Maggie's boys," both of whom lived on our small street.
"No, actually, Mrs. Robertson, they're waiting for me," Diana said with a great deal of blushing, staring at the floor, and throat clearing.
"Good heavens, Diana, why?"
"Well . . . I spent last weekend at Balmoral."
"With Prince Andrew?" I asked, remembering my friend Lee's comment on the way to Glyndebourne.
"No, actually, I was there to see Prince Charles." More blushes and throat clearing, quickly followed by her disclaimer, "But he didn't invite me. His mother did." Hearing Diana speak of Her Majesty the Queen as "his mother" certainly gave me a clear picture of the circles in which Diana moved.
I gasped and asked, probably rather tact ~ Mary Robertson

I fall asleep and dream that Mama and my former psychologist are sitting across from me, at either end of the sofa, talking. And that, every once in a while, Mama leans forward to feel my forehead or straighten the pillow she has slipped under my head. In my dream, I hear the psychologist say: So your friend was in love with your husband? Was that why she told him about the slap? To make him leave you? "Or ~ Caroline Eriksson

Again? Dom meant to leave her without a word again? Not if she had anything to say about it.
Jane forced a smile. "Unfortunately, since the matter the men are pursuing involves me and my cousin, I really must consult with his lordship and Mr. Bonnaud before they head for London. And I do not mean to let them leave without giving me a report."
That seemed to startle the woman. "Forgive me, but I was given to understand by my husband that you and Lord Rathmoor haven't been friendly since the two of you were engaged and you…well…"
"Jilted him?" One day Jane was going to subject Dom to a long list of all the ways in which his subterfuge had created problems for her. But at the moment, she needed Lady Ravenswood on her side. "That is only partly true. Tell me, madam, have you ever been the victim of unfair or misinformed gossip?"
Pain glimmered in the viscountess's dark eyes. "I'm the American half-Senecan wife of a viscount with high-placed friends. So yes, you might say I have."
Jane gentled her tone. "Then you'll understand how easy it is for society to misconstrue matters. Lord Rathmoor and I…have a rather complicated association, which he seems determined not to complicate further. I believe that is why he refuses to give me my report. And that's why I could use your help."
"In what?" the woman said warily.
"Nothing too awful, I assure you. As you will understand when I explain."
She would tell her ladyship however much was necessary to ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Don't cry, my sweet," he entreated. "I cannot bear to see you distressed."
"Then go away," she begged. "Go away and leave me alone."
His brows came together in a troubled frown. "For the life of me, my love, I can't do that."
"Why not?" She faced him with the question.
His gaze dropped and he stared at the floor in thoughtful concentration for a long moment. When he looked at her again, his gaze was direct and unflinching.
"Because I have fallen in love with you."
-Christopher & Erienne ~ Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

No!" he cried and his face pinched with frustration and pain. "I don't want to hear more reasons why we shouldn't be together. No more confessions to explain why you want to run away from what we share."
"Julian," she attempted to interrupt again, but he held up a trembling hand.
His dark gaze held hers. "I have moved heaven and earth to bring you back to me. I refuse to let you leave again. You are mine and you shall be mine for the rest of my life. Not as my mistress, but as my wife. And if you don't say yes, I shall be forced to drag you into Hyde Park and make love to you in plain view of everyone. Then you will have to accept my proposal in order to save your reputation." His face softened. "I love you, Cecilia. ~ Jess Michaels

Sometimes I get the feeling [my parents have] asked me to hold this big invisible secret for them, like a backpack full of rocks--all these things they don't want to know about themselves. I'm supposed to wear it as I hike up this trail toward my adulthood. They're already at the summit of Full Grown Mountain. They're waiting for me to get there and cheering me on, telling me I can do it, and sometimes scolding and asking why I'm not hiking any faster or why I'm not having more fun along the way. I know I'm not supposed to talk about this backpack full of their crazy, but sometimes I really wish we could all stop for a second. Maybe they could walk down the trail from the top and meet me. We could unzip that backpack, pull out all of those rocks, and leave the ones we no longer need by the side of the trail. It'd make the walk a lot easier. Maybe then my shoulders wouldn't get so tense when Dad lectures me about money or Mom starts a new diet she saw on the cover of a magazine at the grocery store. ~ Aaron Hartzler

I truly don't mind staying in the guest room. I'd hate to make things awkward."
Daddy starts to answer him, but Margot gets there first. "No, it's totally fine," she assures Ravi. "Let's go get the rest of our stuff out of the car."
The second they leave, Kitty and I turn to each other. At the same time we say, "Oh my God."
Kitty ponders, "Why do they need to stay in the same room together? Do they have to have sex that bad?"
"Enough, Kitty," Daddy says, his tone sharper than I've heard him use with her. He turns and leaves, and I hear the sound of his office door closing. His office is where he goes when he is really mad. Ms. Rothschild gives her a stern look and follows after him.
Kitty and I look at each other again. "Yikes," I say.
"He didn't have to snap," Kitty says sullenly. "I'm not the one whose boyfriend is staying in my bed."
"He didn't mean it." I tuck her against me, wrapping my arms around her bony shoulders. "Gogo has a lot of nerve, huh?" She's very impressive, my sister. I just feel sorry for Daddy. This isn't a fight he's used to having--or any kind of fight at all, really.
Of course I text Peter right away and tell all. He sends back a lot of wide-eyed emojis. And: Do you think your dad would let us stay in the same room?? Which I ignore. ~ Jenny Han

The following morning, I swore to myself that I would not try to find out where Esther was living. For two years, I had unconsciously preferred to believe that she had been forced to leave, that she had been kidnapped or was being blackmailed by some terrorist group. Now that I knew she was alive and well (that was what the young man had told me), why try to see her again? My ex-wife had the right to look for happiness, and I should respect her decision. This idea lasted a little more than four hours; later in the afternoon, I went to a church, lit a candle and made another promise, this time a sacred, ritual promise: to try and find her. Marie ~ Paulo Coelho

I didn't have to worry about her, which was why she couldn't leave the palace one day. What about me? ~ Kiera Cass

Lover?" The boy lifts an eyebrow suggestively. My face grows hot. "He's my - my friend." "Then why worry?" The boy flashes a grin tinged with wickedness, and I find myself smiling in return. I glance over my shoulder at Izzi, talking to an earnest-looking Scholar. She laughs at something he says, her hands, for once, not straying to her eyepatch. When she catches me watching, she looks between the Tribal boy and me and waggles her eyebrows. My face goes hot again. One dance can't hurt; we can leave after. The ~ Sabaa Tahir

Don't remind me of that," Blackwood snapped. "I'm not in love with her, but I can see her value."
"Always about value with you, isn't it? Why don't you grow a personality? You're like a shambling ghost, curdling everyone's blood whenever you walk into a room."
"At least I don't spend my time seducing innocent young women."
"Someone's been reading novels again. What's the title of this one? The Poxy Lordling and the Aggressive Milkmaid?" Magnus sighed. "I tried to leave her alone, but I can't help myself. She teases me in just the right way - "
Blackwood made a disgusted noise. "I don't care. Unless you want an enemy, Magnus, leave her alone. ~ Jessica Cluess

I intercepted Chaol, and he informed me of your 'condition.' You'd think a man in his position wouldn't be so squeamish, especially after examining all of those corpses."

Calaena opened an eye and frowned as Dorian sat on her bed. "I'm in a state of absolute agony and I can't be bothered."

"It can't be that bad," he said, fishing a deck of cards from his jacket. "Want to play?"

"I already told you that I don't feel well."

"You look fine to me." He skillfully shuffled the deck. "Just one game."

"Don't you pay people to entertain you?"

He glowered, breaking the deck. "You should be honored by my company."

"I'd be honored if you would leave."

"For someone who relies on my good graces, you're very bold."

"Bold? I've barely begun." Lying on her side, she curled her knees to her chest.

He laughed, pocketing the deck of cards. "Your new canine companion is doing well, if you wish to know."
She moaned into her pillow. "Go away. I feel like dying."

"No fair maiden should die alone," he said, putting a hand on hers. "Shall I read to you in your final moments? What story would you like?"

She snatched her hand back. "How about the story of the idiotic prince who won't leave the assassin alone?"

"Oh! I love that story! It has such a happy ending, too - why, the assassin was really feigning her illness in order to get the prince's attention! Wh ~ Sarah J. Maas

Sometimes you characters give me a pain in the back of my lap," said Manuel abruptly. "I hang around with you and listen to simple-minded gobbledegook in yard-long language, if it's you talking, Dran, and pink-and-purple sissification from the brat here. Why I do it I'll never know. And it goes that way up to the last gasp. So you're going to leave. Dran has to make a speech, real logical. Vaughn has to blow out a sigh and get misty-eyed." He spat.
"How would you handle it?" Dran asked, amused. Vaughn stared at Manuel whitely.
"Me? You really want to know?"
"This I want to hear," said Vaughn between her teeth.
"I'd wait a while - a long while - until neither of you was talking. Then I'd say, 'I joined the Marines yesterday.' And you'd both look at me a little sad. There's supposed to be something wrong with coming right out and saying something. Let's see. Suppose I do it the way Vaughn would want me to." He tugged at an imaginary braid and thrust out his lower lip in a lampoon of Vaughn's full mouth. He sighed gustily. "I have felt …" He paused to flutter his eyelashes. "I have felt the call to arms," he said in a histrionic whisper. He gazed off into the middle distance. "I have heard the sound of trumpets. The drums stir in my blood." He pounded his temples with his fists. "I can't stand it - I can't! Glory beckons. I will away to foreign strands."
Vaughn turned on her heel, though she made no effort to walk away. Dran roared with laughter.
"A ~ Theodore Sturgeon

She said: "I'm so sick of this joint."
"Why?"
"No freedom. I can't go out. I can't get drunk or gamble or wear swell clothes…"
"They look swell to me."
"Shut up, honey. I'm trying to tell you something. I like to dance. I like good restaurants and night clubs, and movies. Here all I'm supposed to do is think about God. It's getting me down."
"You don't like God?"
"I can take him or leave him."
I laughed. ~ Jonathan Latimer

He was breathing heavily. "I honestly don't understand what's wrong with you," he said. "You're telling me to pack my bags, to leave our house, knowing you're going to have a baby?"
"And this surprises you why? Have you seen what's been happening in our house?"
"Stop talking to me like this in our bed, Tatiana. My white flag is up," said Alexander. "I have no more."
"My white flag is up, too, Shura," she said. "You know when mine went up? June 22, 1941. ~ Paullina Simons

How can you just leave me standing? Alone in a world that's so cold? (So cold) Maybe I'm just too demanding, Maybe I'm just like my father too bold.Maybe you're just like my mother She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied) Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cry. ~ Prince

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

The Fates themselves grant us one or two places in our lives where the thread untwists and we can follow either one strand or the other. Better to know when and where those choices will come to us instead of being taken by surprise. "
"Why only one or two?" I asked, thinking of all the moments my life had already accumulated in which I'd chosen to follow a different path than the one most people would expect of me. "Why not say that every day lets me choose my own future?"
The priest chuckled. "What a gift you have for joking, Lady Helen! You know your future. You'll be Sparta's queen, living a life blessed by the gods. Your only surprises will be the name of your husband and whether your babies will be sons or daughters. You don't need to visit the Pythia. But your noble brothers will be heroes, making their own futures; heroes should know what awaits them."
"He's right, Helen," Castor said. "Polydeuces and I should know our fate."
Castor's fate? He didn't need an oracle to discover that; I could tell him exactly what it would be. The young priest's glib words were better than underground fumes for giving me a vision of what lay in store for both of my brothers: They were going to have their ears filled with flattery, then be persuaded to leave a rich gift at Apollo's shrine just to hear some poor girl babble riddles while she choked half to death on smoke. Then they'd made another offering just to have Apollo's priests translate the Pythia's wild words. ~ Esther M. Friesner

Driving my daughter to a friend's house one evening, she asked me about God.
"Why doesn't God stop bad things from happening?"
I glanced back at her in the seat. Her eyes were big, her expression pensive.
"I'm sure he could, but that would break his promise to us," I said, working the answer out. "Because he promised to give us free will, and that means that we are free to do bad things as well as good."
"But other people?"
"Other people, too. All people have free will." I worked to explain it, not just to her but to myself. "God promised not to leave us alone," I said, coming back to an idea that has often comforted me. "It doesn't mean we'll always be happy. But He will always support us."
Angel was thinking about her father and his death. I wondered if she was going to cry.
"It's okay to cry," I told her.
"I'm not going to cry," she said. "I have a lot of questions about God. But I can't think about them now."
"You can always ask."
"I know."
"Are you angry with God?"
"No. He didn't do this to us."
"It's okay to be mad at God," I admitted finally--to myself. "He can handle it. ~ Taya Kyle

I told Caitlin 'we have to leave' even though I knew that her fifth period class is the only one she likes because mr.harris is the coolest teacher I've never had. She could tell I meant it, though, because she got her serious face on and just left with me. That's why I love her so much. That's why I wish I was a better person. ~ Nina LaCour

To Harry James Potter,'" he read, and Harry's insides contracted with a sudden excitement, "'I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.'"
As Scrimgeour pulled out the tiny, walnut-sized golden ball, its silver wings fluttered rather feebly, and Harry could not help feeling a definite sense of anticlimax.
"Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?" asked Scrimgeour.
"No idea," said Harry. "For the reasons you just read out, I supposed . . . to remind me what you can get if you . . . persevere and whatever it was."
"You think this a mere symbolic keepsake, then?"
"I suppose so," said Harry. "What else could it be?"
"I'm asking the questions," said Scrimgeour, shifting his chair a little closer to the sofa. Dusk was really falling outside now; the marquee beyond the windows towered ghostly white over the hedge.
"I notice that your birthday cake is in the shape of a Snitch," Scrimgeour said to Harry. "Why is that?"
Hermione laughed derisively.
"Oh, it can't be a reference to the fact Harry's a great Seeker, that's way too obvious," she said. "There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!"
"I don't think there's anything hidden in the icing," said Scrimgeour, "but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object. You know why, I'm sure?"
Harry shrugged. Hermione, however, answered: Harry thought that answering ~ J.K. Rowling

This is the definition of peace.
The definition is interrupted by Toraf's ringtone. Why did Rachel get Toraf a phone? Does she hate me? Fumbling behind him in the sand, Galen puts a hand on it right before it stops ringing. He waits five seconds and...Yep, he's calling again.
"Hello?" he whispers.
"Galen, it's Toraf."
Galen snorts. "You think?"
"Rayna's ready to leave. Where are you?"
Galen sighs. "We're on the beach. Emma's still sleeping. We'll walk back in a few minutes." Emma braved her mom's wrath by skipping curfew again last night to be with him. Grom's mating ceremony is tomorrow, and Galen and Rayna's attendance is required. He'll have to leave her in Toraf's care until he gets back.
"Sorry, Highness. I told you, Rayna's ready to go. You have about two minutes of privacy. She's heading your way. "The phone disconnects.
Galen leans down and sweeps his lips over her sweet neck. "Emma," he whispers.
She sighs. "I heard him," she groans drowsily. "You should tell Toraf that he doesn't have to yell into the phone. And if he keeps doing it, I'm going to accidentally break it."
Galen grins. "He'll get the hang of it soon. He's not a complete idiot."
At this, Emma opens one eye.
He shrugs. "Well, three quarters maybe. But not a complete one."
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" she says, sitting up and stretching.
"You know I do. But I think this mating ceremony will be interesting enough wi ~ Anna Banks

Within moments she stood naked before him,aside from her garters and stockings.
"Why is it that ye always strip me bare but leave these things on?" she asked absently as he stepped back to work at his own clothing.
"To give you something to complain about?" he said with a big grin. ~ Lydia Dare

Just for future reference, don't use words like "love" anymore. It's a very sensitive word and it wears out quickly. Romeo barely says it, but John Hinckley filled up a whole journal with it. To put it into your terms, it's a currency that's easily devalued. Pretty soon you're saying it whenever you hang up the phone or whenever you leave. It turns into an apology. Then it's an excuse. Some assholes want it to be a bulletproof vest: don't hate me; I love you. But mostly it just means--more. More, more--give me something more. A couple of years from now, when you're on your own completely, if you really fall in love, if it really comes to that--and I pity you if it does--you have to look right down into the black of her eyes, right down into the emptiness in there and feel everything, absolutely everything she needs and you have to be willing to drown in it, Kevin. You'd have to want to be crushed, buried alive. Because that's what real love feels like--choking. They used to bury some women in their wedding dresses, you know. I thought it was because all those husbands were too cheap to spring for another gown, but now it makes sense: love is your first foot in the grave. That's why the second most abused word is "forever". ~ Peter Craig

Trail. And he never had the opportunity to explain things. "Hey, you still with me?" Kenny said, observing Jett, assessing him. "Why did she leave?" "I dunno. Ask me something ~ J.C. Reed

Just - just to be clear," he said. "You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?"
"She'll be perfectly safe there, they'll look after her," said Lupin. He spoke with a finality bordering on indifference. "Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you."
"Well," said Harry slowly, "I'm not. I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually. ~ J.K. Rowling

This will happen again," Nathaniel explained. "Even if we manage not to hurt each other, eventually one of us will get sick or get bored, or someone else will get in the way. Maybe they won't mean to. Maybe my mom will need me when she's older and I'll have to go to her - "
"I'd go with you," Kelly offered.
" - or maybe one of us will die young or maybe you'll fall out of love with me because emotions can't be controlled. Or maybe we'll get to a point where we want to hurt each other. I know that's hard to imagine now, but relationships only get more complicated as time goes by."
"So we better avoid them?" Kelly snapped. "Why do you even leave the house? Why aren't you constantly scared of getting hit by a car or shot by some random lunatic?"
Nathaniel exhaled." I never was before. Not until I fell in love with you. ~ Jay Bell

I turn on my heel, which is no easy feat in a gravel parking lot. Not losing eye contact with Galen, I stare him down until I get to the door he's opened for me. He seems unconcerned. In fact, he seems downright emotionless. "This better be good," I tell him as I plop down.
"You should have returned my calls. Or my texts," he says, his voice tight.
As he backs out of the parking space, I yank my cell out of my purse, perusing the texts. "Well, doesn't look like anyone died, so why the hell did you ruin my date?" It's the first time I've ever cursed at royalty and it's liberating. "Or is this a kidnapping? Is Grom in the trunk? Are you taking us on our honeymoon?"
You're supposed to be hurting him, not yourself, moron. My lip trembles like the traitor it is. Even though I'm looking away, I can tell Galen's impassive expression has softened because of the way he says, "Emma."
"Leave me alone, Galen." He pulls my chin to face him. I knock his hand away. "You can't go forty miles an hour on the interstate, Galen. You need to speed up."
He sighs and presses the gas. By the time we reach a less-embarrassing speed, I've abandoned my hurt for rage-o-plenty, struck by the realization that I've turned into "that girl." Not the one who exchanges her doctorate for some kids and a three-bedroom two-bath, but the other kind. That girl who exchanges her dignity and chances for happiness for some possessive loser who beats her when she makes eye contact with some ra ~ Anna Banks

You wish to hear the origin story?" "Uh, yes." I passed him the bottle. "Very well." He drank, handing it to Jack, starting another round. "A goddess of magic devised a contest to the death for select mortals. She invited deities of other realms to send a representative from their most prestigious house, all youths. Each one bore their god's emblem upon his or her right hand." My heart raced . . . I had been one of those youths. "These players would fight inside Tar Ro, a sacred realm as large as a thousand kingdoms, harvesting their victims' emblems; only the player who'd collected them all would leave Tar Ro alive. Naturally, the gods cheated, gifting their own representative with superhuman abilities, making them more than mortal. Secret abilities. That's why we're called Arcana." "Hail Tar Ro," I murmured. "The High Priestess told me that." "An old-fashioned greeting. She's quite knowledgeable about the games. Very respectful of the old ways. ~ Kresley Cole

Th communique repeated the information. "He went to the body of his wife and wouldn't leave it, although she was dead."
How strange. why didn't he run and save his own hide? What made him go back? is it possible that he loved her? Is it possible that he wanted to hold her in his arms one last time? Is it possible that he needed to cry and grieve? Is it possible that he felt the stupidity of war? Is it possible that he felt the injustice of fate? Is it possible that he thought of children, born or unborn? Is it possible that he didn't care what become of him now?
It's possible. We don't know. Or at least we don't know for certain. But we can guess. His actions answer.
And so h sits alone in a prison. Not a "Russian" or a "Communist" or "solider" or "enemy" or any of these categories. Just-a-man who cared for just-a-woman for just-a-time more than anything else.
Here's to you, Nicolai Pestretsov, wherever you may go and be, for giving powerful meaning to the promises that are the same everywhere; for dignifying that covenant that is the same in any language - "for better or for worse, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, to love and honor and cherish unto death, so help me God." You kept the faith; kept it bright - kept it shining. Bless you! ~ Robert Fulghum

Why, I ... I still like you." Nerves fluttered in her chest, but she kept her tone light. "Do you like me?"
A few moments passed in silence. She would have counted them in heartbeats, but her foolish heart had become a most unreliable timepiece. It gave three pounding beats in a flurry, then none at all.
Just when she'd begun to despair, he turned his head, catching her in a passionate, openmouthed kiss. He put both arms around her, fisting his hands in the fabric of her dress, lifting her up and against his chest. So that her body recalled every inch of his, every second of their blissful lovemaking. The now-familiar ache returned - that sweet, hollow pang of desire that only deepened as his tongue flickered over hers. In a matter of seconds, he had her gasping. Needing. Damp.
Then he set her back on her toes. Pressed his brow to hers and released a deep, resonant sigh. And just before turning to leave, he spoke a single word.
He said, "No. ~ Tessa Dare

It was two weeks after the day she turned eighteen
All dressed in white
Going to the church that night
She had his box of letters in the passenger seat
Sixpence in a shoe, something borrowed, something blue
And when the church doors opened up wide
She put her veil down
Trying to hide the tears
Oh she just couldn't believe it
She heard trumpets from the military band
And the flowers fell out of her hand

Baby why'd you leave me
Why'd you have to go?
I was counting on forever, now I'll never know
I can't even breathe
It's like I'm looking from a distance
Standing in the background
Everybody's saying, he's not coming home now
This can't be happening to me
This is just a dream

The preacher man said let us bow our heads and pray
Lord please lift his soul, and heal this hurt
Then the congregation all stood up and sang the saddest song that she ever heard
Then they handed her a folded up flag
And she held on to all she had left of him
Oh, and what could have been
And then the guns rang one last shot
And it felt like a bullet in her heart

Baby why'd you leave me
Why'd you have to go?
I was counting on forever, now I'll never know
I can't even breathe
It's like I'm looking from a distance
Standing in the background
Everybody's saying, he's not coming home now
This can't be happening to me
Th ~ Carrie Underwood

I MEAN not to defend the scapes of any,
Or justify my vices being many;
For I confess, if that might merit favour,
Here I display my lewd and loose behaviour.
I loathe, yet after that I loathe, I run: 5
Oh, how the burthen irks, that we should shun.
I cannot rule myself but where Love please;
Am driven like a ship upon rough seas.
No one face likes me best, all faces move,
A hundred reasons make me ever love. 10
If any eye me with a modest look,
I blush, and by that blushful glance am took;
And she that's coy I like, for being no clown,
Methinks she would be nimble when she's down.
Though her sour looks a Sabine's brow resemble, 15
I think she'll do, but deeply can dissemble.
If she be learned, then for her skill I crave her;
If not, because she's simple I would have her.
Before Callimachus one prefers me far;
Seeing she likes my books, why should we jar? 20
Another rails at me, and that I write,
Yet would I lie with her, if that I might:
Trips she, it likes me well; plods she, what then?
She would be nimbler lying with a man.
And when one sweetly sings, then straight I long, 25
To quaver on her lips even in her song;
Or if one touch the lute with art and cunning,
Who would not love those hands for their swift running?
And her I like that with a majesty,
Folds up her arms, and makes low courtesy. 30
To leave myself, that am in l ~ Ovid

I wish I could hold you,' she continued, bitterly, 'till we were both dead! I shouldn't care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn't you suffer? I do! Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, "That's the grave of Catherine Earnshaw? I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is past. I've loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, at death, I shall not rejoice that I are going to her: I shall be sorry that I must leave them!" Will you say so, Heathcliff? ~ Emily Bronte

Bree stared down at Bernardo's still form. The monitor was the only sound in the room apart from his deep breathing. Alessandro had gone down to the cafeteria with Will and Gianni to grab something to eat before they left for home. Bree lied and told him that she wanted to check in with Tina and her mother Roxanna for a few minutes before they left. Even unconscious, the son of a bitch was formidable and Bree felt nervous around him. "Why don't you do everyone a favour and just die already?" Bree said. No response. Bree sneered and shook her head, turning to leave. "You could always smother me with a pillow," a groggy voice said behind her, making her heart nearly stop. Bree whirled around wide-eyed and met Bernardo's dark gaze. She forced herself to shrug and crossed her arms. "Do you think Alessandro would forgive you for murdering his father?" Bernardo asked. They both knew the answer to that. ~ E. Jamie

And then she started climbing/ The girl is in the seventh grade, and she's climbing a tree
way, way up in the tree. And why does she do it? So she can yell down at us that the bus is five! four! three blocks away! Blow-by-blow traffic watch from a tree
what every kid in junior high feels like hearing first thing in the morning. She tried to get me to come up there with her, too. "Bryce, come on! You won't believe the colors! It's absolutely magnificent! Bryce, you've got to come up here!" Yeah, I could just hear it: "Bryce and Juli sitting in a tree ... " Was I ever going to leave the second grade behind? ~ Wendelin Van Draanen

Sometimes a woman would tell me that the feeling gets so strong she runs out of the house and walks through the streets. Or she stays inside her house and cries. Or her children tell her a joke, and she doesn't laugh because she doesn't hear it. I talked to women who had spent years on the analyst's couch, working out their "adjustment to the feminine role," their blocks to "fulfillment as a wife and mother." But the desperate tone in these women's voices, and the look in their eyes, was the same as the tone and the look of other women, who were sure they had no problem, even though they did have a strange feeling of desperation.
A mother of four who left college at nineteen to get married told me:

I've tried everything women are supposed to do - hobbies, gardening, pick-ling, canning, being very social with my neighbors, joining committees, run-ning PTA teas. I can do it all, and I like it, but it doesn't leave you anything to think about - any feeling of who you are. I never had any career ambitions. All I wanted was to get married and have four children. I love the kids and Bob and my home. There's no problem you can even put a name to. But I'm desperate. I begin to feel I have no personality. I'm a server of food and a putter-on of pants and a bedmaker, somebody who can be called on when you want something. But who am I?

A twenty-three-year-old mother in blue jeans said:

I ask myself why I'm so dissatisfied. I've got my health, fine c ~ Betty Friedan

If you leave within the hour, you can make it by nightfall. With this rain, I wouldn't wait longer. The stream is close to covering the bridge already."
Sophia had to smile. "Anxious to get rid of me?"
"Aye.I'm tried of seeing your long face over the breakfast table."
She laughed a little. "Red,I don't understand. Why are you so insistent about this?"
"Because if anyone knows the cost of lost opportunities, it's me. Sometimes you have to grab life by the horns and ride it,even if it tries to throw you. I don't want to see you spending the rest of your life wincing every time you say this man's name. ~ Karen Hawkins

Just tell me what's so irritating."(katsu)
That's none of your damn business!"(kyok)
Maybe not. But I'm curious."(katsu)
It's EVERYTHING you prick! God, you're annoying! It's everything,okay?! EVERYTHING PISSES ME OFF! Them! And them! And them! And YOU! Everyone and everything!I HATE YOUR GODDAMN GUTS! You just...You all treat people like garbage. But you're all just as bad!QUIT TRYING TO ACT LIKE YOU'RE ALL FRIGGIN' PERFECT! Leave me alone. I wish everyone would just...go. Get out of my life. I'd be better off with YOU DEAD! DIE! DIE! GO TO HELL! YOU DISAPPEAR! YOU FALL APART!"(kyok)
Really? I think you WANT them to care. You want them to look at you, don't you? All those people. You want them to need you. You want them.....to listen to you. To understand somehow. You want them to accept you. I think.... you want them to love you.You know something? I'm like that, too."(katsu)
... Wh-why? Why did I....turn out....like this?"(kyok)
You're asking me?"(katsu)
That's what..That's what I wanna know. Why? Why...did I..?!"(kyok)
Where did she go wrong? What was her mistake? "I'm miserable. I feel so alone!"(kyok)
-Katsuya and Kyoko Honda ~ Natsuki Takaya

Will you call me before Christmas?' she asks.
Maybe.' I pull on my vest, wondering why I even came here in the first place.
You've still got my number, don't you?' She reaches for a pad and begins to write it down.
Yeah, Blair. I've got your number. I'll get in touch.'
I button up my jeans and turn to leave.
Clay?'
Yeah, Blair.'
If I don't see you before Christmas,' she stops. 'Have a good one.'
I look at her a moment. 'Hey, you too.'
She picks up the stuffed black cat and strokes its head.
I step out the door and start to close it.
Clay?' she whispers loudly.
I stop but don't turn around.'Yeah?'
Nothing. ~ Bret Easton Ellis

Gennie,you should have told me you hadn't been with a man before." And how was it possible, he wondered, that she'd let no man touch her before? That he was the first...the only.
"Why?" she said flatly,wishing he would go, wishing she had the strength to leave. "It was my business."
Swearing,he shifted,leaning over her. His eyes were dark and angry, but when she tried to pull away,he pinned her. "I don't have much gentleness," he told her, and the words were unsteady with feeling. "But I would have used all I had,I would have tried to find more,for you." When she only stared at him, Grant lowered his forehead to hers. "Gennie..."
Her doubts,her fears,melted at that one softly murmured word. "I wasn't looking for gentleness then," she whispered. Framing his face with her hands, she lifted it. "But now..." She smiled, and watched the frown fade from his eyes.
He dropped a kiss on her lips, soft, more like whisper,then rising, lifted her into his arms. Gennie laughed at the feeling of weightlessness and ease. "What're you doing now?"
"Taking you inside so you can warm up, dry off and make love with me again-maybe not in that order."
Gennie curled her arms around his neck. "I'm beginning to like your ideas. What about our clothes?"
"We can salvage what's left of them later." He pushed open the door of the lighthouse. "We won't be needing them for quite a while."
"Definitely like your ideas." She pressed her mouth against his throat. ~ Nora Roberts

Violet is missing, and it seems Vance is as well," Damien says on a huff as he exits.

"Why the bloody hell would he leave with her directly after a wolf attack?" I ask as I start toward the door, finishing off my drink. "Without a word?"

"I'm not sure he left with her, so much as chased after her, since it looks like he found her note first," Damien says as he jogs down the stairs.

I have the paper snatched out of his hand before he realizes it's missing, and I flip it over, reading it.

DO NOT FOLLOW ME. THIS VACATION SUCKS TOO HARD TO STAY. I'M GOING HOME TO RELAX.

Sincerely,

the SINGLE gypsy girl who can think for herself

P.S. I'LL KEY YOUR FUCKING CARS if you come looking for me before I'm ready to deal with you again.

"Little rude to leave so soon, considering how hard I worked to find out where the hell you'd all gone," I point out before walking out the door.

I'm gone before they can further delay me.

"She put it in shouty caps!" Damien calls to my back, though I have no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean. ~ Kristy Cunning

One day she marched around the side of the house and confronted me. "I've seen you out there every day for the past week, and everyone knows you stare at me all day in school, if you have something you want to say to me why don't you just say it to my face instead of sneaking around like a crook?" I considered my options. Either I could run away and never go back to school again, maybe even leave the country as a stowaway on a ship bound for Australia. Or I could risk everything and confess to her. The answer was obvious: I was going to Australia. I opened my mouth to say goodbye forever. And yet. What I said was: I want to know if you'll marry me. ~ Nicole Krauss

There was a lot of stress on both of us, and one night we had a fight over some detail about the house. The cause is lost to me, but I know I got really mad-mad enough to knock my papers off the kitchen table, and then take a bowl of macaroni and cheese and fling it against the wall.
That's very mad, especially for me.
I also remember the solution. Sitting alone after Chris went to bed, I called a girlfriend and poured out my heart. I knew that I had gone too far, but I didn't know how to fix it.
"You love him, right?" she asked finally.
"Yes."
"Then go in there, wake him up, and give him some hot sex."
So I did. We didn't talk, but we sure did make love.
Chris seemed apprehensive when he left the next morning. I later found out that he couldn't quite figure out why his mad fiancée would come to him for hot sex and no talk. He was afraid he would come home and I would be gone.
He didn't mention it, though, because he didn't want to risk a talk when maybe I was over it. If he was wrong and I was gone, he would find me and fix it. Avoiding a "talk" was worth the risk of damage control later. He was his usual confident self, taking life as it came and handling the consequences IF they came.
On my side, I would have panicked if I thought he was going to leave me. ~ Taya Kyle

Okay, listen to me one more time. I find you very beautiful, and I'm not going to be some guy who leaves you hanging like that idiot did yesterday evening. I am willing to show you what a real woman can do to please you in every way."

Jana stood they're just looking at Angel dumbstruck, unsure what to say. She just thought of what to say next, but nothing came to words. Jana sat on the couch without a word. Angel sat next to her.

"I am sorry for being so honest with you. But since I met you yesterday evening, I just can't and won't let my feelings go without knowing." She sighed. She just wished Jana could feel the same about her as she did about Jana.

Jana looked at Angel. Her eyes were full of questions.

"Why me? Out of all the women in this world, you choose me. I'm nothing compared to anyone else and my best friend Destiny has the life I want and crave for."

Angel smiled and hugged Jana. She didn't try to leave her embrace. Angel counted that as a small win.

"That is where you are blind on. Women that are friends or couples can have all that as well. Please, just give me a chance to show you and will go from there."

Jana took a deep breath looking down at her hands. She was still deciding if she should accept Angel's suggestion.

"Are you sure about this? I mean we just met, and I am not sure what to think of all this? I wouldn't even know what to tell anyone that knows me?"

~ Amber M. Kestner

Do you think she's going to hang out your dirty laundry for all to see?"
"How can you say she has sense after what she pulled today? Bah! You don't know what you're talking about."
"What Willow did today was nothing more than an act of rebellion, a way to let off steam and let you know, in the only way she knew how, that your treatment of her is entirely unacceptable."
"Woman, what you need is a man, then maybe you wouldn't be putting your nose in everybody's business."
"Why,Mr. Vaughn, are you applying for the job?" Miriam asked, with an ill-humored smile.
"Hell,no!"
"Then I suggest you leave my personal life out of this. My life is in perfect order, which is more than can be said for yours!"
Owen grunted and took a pull on his pipe.
Well aware of his bold perusal, Miriam attacked her darning as if it were infinitely more engaging than any conversation with the man across the room from her.
Owen wasn't a handsome man by any standards with his bearlike build and ruddy complexion. And heaven knew he wasn't very likeable either. Thus, Miriam was at a complete loss to explain her powerful attraction to him. Good heavens, she thought, I haven't felt so giddy since that time on my eighteenth birthday when Hiriam pulled me behind Aunt Harriet's coachhouse and we... The landlady's face reddened. ~ Charlotte McPherren

She deeply disliked being so fearful, but had actually grown rather comfortable over the years with disappointing herself. She used to try. Just leave the house by the front door once a day. Then, after a while, she'd try for once a week. Then once a month. Then, Why bother? she thought. Let the world come to me, and I'll set out a little lunch. What she hated most was that she'd become one of them. Another Lichporter grown self-indulgent and eccentric, the subject of sidewalk gossip: Oh, her, Mrs. Bowe … yes, yes … so sad. She doesn't leave the house, you know, unless there's a you-know-what, not unless someone D-I-E-S. ~ Ari Berk

Lachlain shifted restlessly. He thought he was finally strong enough for them to leave tomorrow. He was physically ready to resume relations with his wife, and wasn't eager to do it under this roof.
He stood and offered his hand, and with a shy smile she slipped her hand in his. As they crossed in front of the screen, they barely dodged a volley of popcorn.
He didn't know where he was taking her, maybe out into the night fog. He just knew he wanted her, needed her, right then. She was too precious to him, too good to be true. When he was inside her, with his arms tight around her, he felt less like she'd slip away.
But they only made it to an empty hall before he pressed her against the wall, cupped her neck, and demanded once again, "You'll stay with me?"
"Always." Her hips arched up to him. "You love me?"
"Always, Emmaline," he grated against her lips. "Always. So damn much you make me mad with it."
When she moaned softly, he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He knew he couldn't have her here, but the reasons why grew hazy with her breaths in his ear.
"I wish we were home," she whispered. "Together in our bed."
Home. Damn if she hadn't said home. In our bed. Had anything ever sounded so good? He pressed her harder into the wall, kissing her more deeply, with all the love he had in him, but suddenly they were falling, his balance somehow lost. He clenched her to him and twisted to take the impact on his back.
Kresley Cole

What you can't do is leave me!"
He was thrown back. There were still six crewmen standing against him. That wasn't deterring him in the least, however, which only infuriated her the more. The fool man was going to get tossed in the river yet.
She might do it herself. She was, after all, fed up with being told what she could or couldn't do. "And why can't I leave you?"
"Because I love you!"
He hadn't even paused in throwing another punch to shout that. Georgina, however, went very still, and breathless, and nearly sat down on the deck, her knees had gone so weak with the incredible emotion that welled up inside her. ~ Johanna Lindsey

Is it your wish that I should leave you now?" "Why would you think that of me?" His eyebrows rose, the vulnerability gone. "You are not a servant, Mariana, to be thus ordered from my sight." "No," I admitted, looking down at my feet, "I am not a servant. I am a mistress. A minor difference, I'll grant you." His eyes were steady on my face. "You are my love," he corrected me, softly, "and there is no shame in that. Do you wish this afternoon undone?" I raised my head. "No," I told him honestly. "I will not force you to my bed," he said. "I do not want a frightened woman, nor a coy one, but one who gives me love because she wills it so. If I make no promises, it is because the world is an uncertain place, and words matter little. But if you doubt the honor of my love, come," he stretched his hand towards me, palm upward, "let me renew my pledge. ~ Susanna Kearsley

Valerie, I love you so much. I wanted you to have a normal
childhood - so I lived a double life. Hiding in plain
sight. Living modestly." He began to pace the room, the
words tumbling out of him. "I tried to keep it up, but I've
been so disrespected. Even by my own wife. I couldn't do it
anymore. I've settled for far less than I deserved, and I just
couldn't do it anymore. I decided it was time to leave for
the city....For richer hunting grounds." Cesaire was snarling
now, a scary, powerful force. Valerie felt herself being
drawn to it....
She took a deep, steadying breath. It was not just fear
that she felt. What she felt was so much more complex
than that, something she couldn't understand. "Then why
didn't you just go?"
"Because I loved you girls, and I wanted you to come
with me. To share the wealth."
"But you had to wait until the blood moon. ~ Sarah Blakley-Cartwright

We used to talk about death, she said. We don't anymore. Why is that?
I don't know.
It's because it's here. There's nothing left to talk about.
I wouldn't leave you.
I don't care. It's meaningless. You can think of me as a faithless slut if you like. I've taken a new lover. He can give me what you cannot.
Death is not a lover.
O yes he is.
Please don't do this.
I'm sorry.
I can't do it alone. ~ Cormac McCarthy

Perhaps the most difficult thing about loving and helping an addict, which most people who haven't been through it don't understand, is this: every day the cycle continues is your new worst day. When looked at from the outside it seems endless, the same thing over and over again; but when you're living it, it's like being a hamster on a wheel. Every day there's the chronic anxiety of waiting for news, the horrible rush when it turns out to be bad, the overwhelming sense of déjà vu – and the knowledge that, despite your best efforts, you'll probably be here again. Even so-called good days are not without their drawbacks. You enjoy them as much as you can, but in the back of your mind there's the lurking fear that tomorrow you could be back to square one again, or worse. For me, this was life with Amy. If I was stopped by someone in the street and they asked how Amy was doing, I knew they wouldn't understand if I told them what was going on. I'd learned that it's nearly impossible to explain how this could keep happening. I'd imagined that, as they offered sympathy, they'd be wondering, How can her family let this carry on? Or, Why didn't they lock her up until she was clean? But unless an addict wants to quit, they'll find a way to get drugs, and as soon as they leave the rehab facility they'll pick up where they left off. Long before Amy was an addict, no one could tell her what to do. Once she became an addict, that stubbornness just got worse. There were times when she want ~ Mitch Winehouse

Rachel's voice is fierce. The Commander will send out scouts. We should-"
"Oh, he sent out scouts," Willow says. "Five of them. And they were doing a good job of searching the city. Unfortunately for them, all they managed to find was me."
"You killed them?" Ian asks.
"No. I invited them over for dinner." She smacks his shoulder. "the sun is almost down. By the time the Commander realizes his scouts aren't coming back, it will be too dark to send more. He can't risk us seeing torchlight, and they can't search these ruins without light."
"You scare me a little," Ian says, but his voice is full of admiration.
Adam steps closer to Willow. "She's good at everything she does."
Quinn clears his throat." Maybe we should get back to the problem?"
"We can't travel at night," I say. "We need light as well. But we can leave at dawn, and-"
"They'll leave at dawn, too," Adam says. "And if they're that close already, there's no way we can outrun them. Not with children and elderly and the wagons."
"Which is why we're going to create a barrier between us," I say. "Something they can't cross."
Rachel meets my eyes, and her smile is cold and bright. "Fire."
I match her smile with one of my own. "Fire. And when the army finally gets past the blaze, we won't be where they expect, because we're leaving the main road behind."
"What are we waiting for?" Willow asks. "Let's go burn something down. ~ C.J. Redwine

After another second had passed I added, "But you're pretty, pretty," and as soon as I said it I thought, "Pretty, pretty? John, you're an idiot." But she squeezed my hand and when I looked at her I saw her entire lovely face was aglow with a wonderful smile, the kind of smile you get when you have won something.
"Why do you rub your fingers together all the time?" she asked me, and I felt the breath leave my body and gasped for air. She had seen me do my crazy finger thing, my affliction. I clenched my teeth while I searched for a long, exaggerated lie to tell her about why I did what I did. I didn't want to be the crazy kid with tics, I wanted to be James Bond 007, so slick ice avoided me.
"It's okay," she said. "I bite my nails, see?" and she showed me the backs of her hands. Her finger nails were painted a color I later learned was puce.
"My Dad, he blinks all the time, he doesn't know why either," she continued. She looked down her feet and said, "I shouldn't have asked you that. I'm really nervous and I say stupid things when I'm nervous. I'm a girl and this is my first date, and for girls this really is a very big deal."
I understood completely. I was so nervous I couldn't feel my toes, so I started moving them up and down to make sure they were still there.
"It's all right," I said. "I don't know why I do that with my fingers; it's a thing I do."
"Well, you're really cute when you do it," she said.
"I know," I said, and I do ~ John William Tuohy

You want to control me." She spoke dispassionately as though observing the plight of another woman far distant from herself.
Dragon looked up, surprised. "You are my wife."
"Say rather possession for so do you think, do you not?"
He shrugged, wondering why she stated the obvious. "All wives belong to their husbands."
"I wanted to be free."
His eyes darkened. There was greater challenge here than even he had thought. "You wanted to be safe from Wolscroft and the rest of them, even from me when you though misguidedly. That is why you fled."
She shook her head. "Oh, no, safety was a convent from which not even my father could have forced me. But it was not to one such that I fled, was it? I wanted freedom, and having tasted it, however briefly, I want it still."
His hands tightened on her, driven by the sudden, piercing pain her words brought. Did she think to leave him again? To flee as she had done and leave him once more bereft. No, by heaven, she would not! "No one is free," he said fiercely. "We are all enmeshed in duty and responsibility."
"Your duty is of your own choosing, for you did not return here after many years away and willingly take up your inheritance. Your destiny is of your own making and you the master of it as much as any man can claim to be. I want the same myself, no more, less."
"But you are a woman . . ." His bewilderment was genuine. Such yearnings as she described belonged to the realm of men. Women were fo ~ Josie Litton

You come to work every day but you hardly get to know anyone. I don't even know the names of half the people I see in the elevators. They say the company is a big family, but I don't know them. And even the people I do, like you two, and Elizabeth, and Roger - do I really? I mean, I like you guys, but we only ever talk about work. When I'm out with friends, or at home, I never talk about work. The other day, I tried to explain to my sister why it's such a huge deal that Elizabeth ate Roger's donut, and she thought I was insane. And you know what, I agreed with her. At home I couldn't even think why it mattered. Because I'm a different person at home. When I leave this place at night, I can feel myself changing. Like shifting gears in my head. And you guys don't know that; you just know what I'm like here, which is terrible, because I think I'm better away from work. I don't even like who I am here. Is that just me? Or is everyone different when they come to work? If they are, then what are they really like? How can we ever know? All we know are the Work People. ~ Max Barry

So what else can I tell you?" I asked. "I mean, to get you to reveal Lily to me."
She triangled her fingers under her chin. "Let's see. Are you a bed wetter?"
"Am I a...?"
"Bed wetter. I am asking if you are a bed wetter."
I knew she was trying to get me to blink. But I wouldn't.
"No, ma'am. I leave my beds dry."
"Not even a little drip every now and then?"
"I'm trying hard to see how this is germane."
"I'm gauging your honesty. What is the last periodical you read methodically?"
"Vogue. Although, in the interest of full disclosure, that's mostly because I was in my mother's bathroom, enduring a rather long bowel movement. You know, the kind that requires Lamaze."
"What adjective do you feel the most longing for?"
That was easy. "I will admit I have a soft spot for fanciful."
"Let's say I have a hundred million dollars and offer it to you. The only condition is that if you take it, a man in China will fall off his bicycle and die. What do you do?"
"I don't understand why it matters whether he's in China or not. And of course I wouldn't take the money."
The old woman nodded.
"Do you think Abraham Lincoln was a homosexual?"
"All I can say for sure is that he never made a pass at me."
"Are you a museumgoer?"
"Is the pope a churchgoer?"
"When you see a flower painted by Georgia O'Keefe, what comes to mind?"
"That's just a transparent ploy to get me to say the word vagina, isn't it? ~ David Levithan

You sound like Gran."
"I don't mind. I'm beginning to like her."
"I like her, too-when she's not plaguing the hell out of me."
Maria eyed him curiously. "Why do you curse so much around me? Other men don't. And you don't curse around other women, as far as I can tell. So why around me?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I can be myself around you, I suppose. And since I'm a foulmouthed son of a bitch in general-"
She pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't say that. You're not as bad as you're always making out." Then realizing that people were noticing her intimate gesture, she returned her hand to his shoulder.
"That's not what you thought earlier," he said in a rough rasp. His hand swept her waist surreptitiously, as if he couldn't keep from caressing her.
"Let's just say I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."
They finished the waltz in a silence that only increased her agitation. His eyes couldn't seem to leave her face, nor hers his. Every step together seemed to bring them closer, until she was sure they were dancing far too close for propriety. Yet she didn't care. It was pure bliss. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

That last night," she said quietly. "Why did you say you hoped you'd never see me again?"
He hadn't said it; it had been his last thought when he'd turned to leave. But he didn't seem to notice the discrepancy as he looked at her now.
"Because," he began before faltering, his voice leaving on a sigh. His left hand reached to rake a path through his hair, scattering the inky thickness in all directions. "The more I learn of you, the more difficult it is to stay away. ~ Angela B. Wade

Why, Daddy?" she asked. She still had that strange look on her face. "Why do dogs die so young? Shadow was only seventeen. He was not even as old as my babysitter."
"To teach us," he said.
"Teach us what, Daddy?"
"Compassion," he replied.
"But why, Daddy?" she asked.
"So that we might be kinder. So we might make the world kinder. They leave, but they leave us with their lesson. All great teachers do that."
"Yes," said Emma. "He was a good teacher to me too. He was also a wonderful runway model."
He handed her the polaroid. She examined its rivulets and splotches. She put her thumb on the smudges, rubbing them. To Theo, it seemed she knew of the eyes and mouth that once had been. Then the full gravity of the circumstance fell upon her. Emma wept. She was now a girl with a crack in her heart. The sorrows of the world were now available to her. Soon, she would know their beauty. ~ Steven James Taylor

Kane crossed the room and hunkered down next to me. He placed his elbow on the arm of the sofa behind me and gently scratched my back which his fingers. "Why don't you come to bed?"

His voice was low and inviting.

"Maybe because she has company, i.e. me, you dirty bastard." Keela flared. "Stop seducin' her when I'm sittin' right next to your nasty arse."

I beamed at Keela, and Kane smiled at me. He used his free hand to swipe away the already forgotten tears on my cheeks. "There's my babydoll."

Keela giggled. "That's adorable, but you're still nasty."

I flicked my eyes in her direction and playfully narrowed them. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," she acknowledged. "You do your thing."

Kane nudged me and gave me a wink. "You shouldn't have ever fed her, she'll never leave now."

Keela gasped in mock horror. "I'm not a dog. How dare you! ~ L.A. Casey

At the time of solitude, I went where Narmada was sleeping. She got awake and sat up. She neither got scared nor nervous but she immediately got off the bed. She kept both her hands tied on her chest. I was standing so close to her that my face was near her face. We could sense each other's breath.

I called out her name and could not speak anything else.

After a moment, I started - "I love you Narmada…I like to be with you…I want to marry you."

She got nervous and said - "Please, go to your room, why have you come here? It may cause trouble if Jaanki sees us like this." She was neck down. Her eyes were on the floor. Her heart was beating fast.

"Don't you want to talk to me? Why are you angry with me? Why don't you trust on my feelings for you?" - I softly asked her.

"I guess you don't like my friendship with Varsha. You and Varsha are poles apart." - I added.

She said - "You please go. It would not be nice if someone sees us like this. I do not want anything from you."

I said - "But I am dying for you and I know you too are made for me."

Her eyes suddenly fell on maid behind the curtains of the door who was trying to listen to our conversation. Narmada said - "You please leave right now, we'll talk later. Mom is not at home."

I went by on her prescriptive tone.

She was fighting for her self-being and the reason was only Varsha. She felt suffocated with my friendshi ~ Laxman Rao