Will You Miss Me When I Gone Quotes

I was about to admit to the twins how much braver they were than me, when Gabe cut in quietly. "You never talk about your mom." The twins watched me try to form a response. "It's because I miss her. So every time I talk about her, I get sad." As Gabe took my hand, Gracie stood, sending the last bits of funnel cake scattering onto the ground. "We're your family now. ~ Jenn Marie Thorne

No. Knox got to his feet. I'll go get her myself. He quickly ended the business call, uncaring that he'd been rude. Opening his office door, Knox indicated for Levi to follow him. "Tanner just contacted me," said Knox. "Apparently Harper - " He cut off as a she-demon rounded the corner and came to a halt in front of him.
Belinda smiled. "Oh, Knox, I was hoping to catch you."
For fuck's sake. "What can I do for you, Miss Thacker?"
Her smile dimmed at his impatient tone. "It's about the appetizers for the event."
"I told you I want Harper to decide these things."
Belinda's mouth flattened. "She doesn't find any of my suggestions suitable."
"Then they're not suitable." Simple.
"Knox - "
"Miss Thacker, I didn't invite you to call me by my first name." Her cheeks reddened. "I gave you my orders when I hired you. They were not complicated. I specified all the details of the event that I wished to be left for Harper to decide."
"She wants steak and potato wedges on sticks!" Belinda took a deep breath and lowered her eyes. "I apologize for my outburst."
Steak and potato wedges on sticks? echoed Levi, a smile in his telepathic voice. That actually sounds pretty good.
"Do you remember the all-important order I gave you before sending you Harper's way, Miss Thacker?"
She swallowed. "Yes."
"What was it?"
Belinda met his gaze. "You told me to give her whatever she wants."
"Then do it. Now I have somewhere I need ~ Suzanne Wright

Goodbye," said Siew Tsin.
"See you next time," said Lady Meng, more accurately.
"Will you remember me when I come again?"
"Of course," said Lady Meng. "I miss you every time. ~ Zen Cho

You have been abroad then?" said Henry, a little surprised.

"Oh! No, I only mean what I have read about. It always puts me in mind of the country that Emily and her father traveled through, in The Mysteries of Udolpho. But you never read novels, I dare say?"

"Why not?"

"Because they are not clever enough for you - gentlemen read better books."

"The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid. I have read all Mrs. Radcliffe's works, and most of them with great pleasure. The Mysteries of Udolpho, when I had once begun it, I could not lay down again; I remember finishing it in two days - my hair standing on end the whole time."

"Yes," added Miss Tilney, "and I remember that you undertook to read it aloud to me, and that when I was called away for only five minutes to answer a note, instead of waiting for me, you took the volume into the Hermitage Walk, and I was obliged to stay till you had finished it. ~ Jane Austen

And really the purpose of art - for me, fiction - is to alert, to indicate to stop, to say: Make certain that when you rush through you will not miss the moment which you might have had, or might still have. ~ Jerzy Kosinski

(...)because Miss Temple has generally something to say which is newer than my own reflections; her language is singularly agreeable to me, and the information she communicates is often just what I wished to gain."
"Well, then, with Miss Temple you are good?"
"Yes, in a passive way: I make no effort; I follow as inclination guides me. There is no merit in such goodness."
"A great deal: you are good to those who are good to you. It is all I ever desire to be. If people were always kind and obedient to those who are cruel and unjust, the wicked people would have it all their own way: they would never feel afraid, and so
they would never alter, but would grow worse and worse. When we are struck at without a reason, we should strike back again very hard; I am sure we should - so hard as to teach the person who struck us never to do it again."
"You will change your mind, I hope, when you grow older: as yet you are but a little untaught girl."
"But I feel this, Helen; I must dislike those who, whatever I do to please them, persist in disliking me; I must resist those who punish me unjustly. It is as natural as that I should love those who show me affection, or submit to punishment when I feel it is deserved."
"Heathens and savage tribes hold that doctrine, but Christians and civilised nations disown it." "How? I don't understand."
"It is not violence that best overcomes hate - nor vengeance that most certainly heals injury."
"What then?" ~ Charlotte Bronte

We part, then, for the nonce, do we?'
'I fear so, sir.'
'You take the high road, and self taking the low road, as it were?'
'Yes, sir.'
'I shall miss you, Jeeves.'
'Thank you, sir.'
'Who was that chap who was always beefing about gazelles?'
'The poet Moore, sir. He complained that he had never nursed a dear gazelle, to glad him with its soft black eye, but when it came to know him well, it was sure to die.'
'It's the same with me. I am a gazelle short. You don't mind me alluding to you as a gazelle, Jeeves?'
'Not at all, sir. ~ P.G. Wodehouse

I hurried to the end of the Iron Wing and opened the door.
Where I found myself face-to-face with Anne-Whatever-Whatever herself.
I pulled my hand back to punch her. "What are you - " she started, when her eyes went wide and she collapsed on the ground, revealing Tasey in the hands of a teen boy with blond curls, blue eyes, dimples, and the most impish smile I'd ever seen.
"Hey-oh, did you miss me?" Jack asked.
Since my hand was already pulled back, I went ahead and punched Jack.
"Bloody - What was that for?" he asked, hand over his nose.
I stepped past the unconscious body of Anne-Whatever-Whatever lying on the white tile floor and snatched Tasey from the blond nightmare. "Are you kidding me? The last time I saw you, you left me for read."
"Well, yeah, there was that. But I thought rescuing you from IPCA might make up for it a bit."
"I'm in the middle of rescuing myself," I snapped.
"And how were you planning on getting past her?" He nudged the prone body with a none-too-gentle foot.
"Improvising."
"And once you were past her, you were going to get out of here . . . how?"
"Shut up!" I turned and tried to stomp down the hall, then cringed in pain from my ankle. Okay, no dramatic stomping. I opted for emphatic limping instead, which unfortunately allowed Jack to catch up quite quickly. ~ Kiersten White

When he reached the doorman, he stopped.
"Did you see Miss Christian come in a few minutes ago?"
The doorman nodded. "Yes, sir. She got here just before you arrived."
Relief staggered him. He bolted for the elevator. A few moments later, he strode into the apartment.
"Kelly? Kelly, honey, where are you?"
Not waiting for an answer, he hurried into the bedroom to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her face pale and drawn in pain. When she heard him, she looked up and he winced at the dullness in her eyes.
She'd been crying.
"I thought I could do it," she said in a raw voice, before he could beg her forgiveness. "I thought I could just go on and forget and that I could accept others thinking the worst of me as long as you and I were okay again. I did myself a huge disservice."
"Kelly…"
Something in her look silenced him and he stood several feet away, a feeling of helplessness gripping him as he watched her try to compose herself.
"I sat there tonight while your friends and your mother looked at me in disgust, while they looked at you with a mixture of pity and disbelief in their eyes. All because you took me back. The tramp who betrayed you in the worst possible manner. And I thought to myself I don't deserve this. I've never deserved it. I deserve better."
She raised her eyes to his and he flinched at the horrible pain he saw reflected there. Then she laughed. A raw, terrible sound that grated across his ears.
"A ~ Maya Banks

Ms. Terwilliger didn't have a chance to respond to my geological ramblings because someone knocked on the door. I slipped the rocks into my pocket and tried to look studious as she called an entry. I figured Zoe had tracked me down, but surprisingly, Angeline walked in.
"Did you know," she said, "that it's a lot harder to put organs back in the body than it is to get them out?"
I closed my eyes and silently counted to five before opening them again. "Please tell me you haven't eviscerated someone."
She shook her head. "No, no. I left my biology homework in Miss Wentworth's room, but when I went back to get it, she'd already left and locked the door. But it's due tomorrow, and I'm already in trouble in there, so I had to get it. So, I went around outside, and her window lock wasn't that hard to open, and I - "
"Wait," I interrupted. "You broke into a classroom?"
"Yeah, but that's not the problem."
Behind me, I heard a choking laugh from Ms. Terwilliger's desk.
"Go on," I said wearily.
"Well, when I climbed through, I didn't realize there was a bunch of stuff in the way, and I crashed into those plastic models of the human body she has. You know, the life size ones with all the parts inside? And bam!" Angeline held up her arms for effect. "Organs everywhere." She paused and looked at me expectantly. "So what are we going to do? I can't get in trouble with her."
"We?" I exclaimed.
"Here," said Ms. Terwilliger. I turned around, an ~ Richelle Mead

recant, v.

I want to take back at least half of the "I love you"s, because I didn't mean them as much as the other ones. I want to take back the book of artsy photos I gave you, because you didn't get it and said it was hipster trash. I want to take back what I said about you being an emotional zombie. I want to take back the time I called you "honey" in front of your sister and you looked like I had just shown her pictures of us having sex. I want to take back the wineglass I broke when I was mad, because it was a nice wineglass and the argument would have ended anyway. I want to take back the time we had sex in a rent-a-car, not because I feel bad about the people who got in the car after us, but because it was massively uncomfortable. I want to take back the trust I had while you were away in Austin. I want to take back the time I said you were a genius, because I was being sarcastic and I should have just said you'd hurt my feelings. I want to take back the secrets I told you so I can decide now whether to tell them to you again. I want to take back the piece of me that lies in you, to see if I truly miss it. I want to take back at least half the "I love you"s, because it feels safer that way. ~ David Levithan

We don't know each other, but I know that you must be very special. I can't be there today, to watch my baby boy promise his love to you, but there are a few things that I think I might say to you if I were.

First, thank you for loving my son. Of all my boys, Travis is the most tender hearted. He is also the strongest. He will love you with everything he has for as long as you let him. Tragedies in life sometimes change us, but some things never change. A boy without a mother is a very curious creature. If Travis is anything like his father, and I know that he is, he's a deep ocean of fragility, protected by a thick wall of swear words and feigned indifference. A Maddox boy will take you all the way to the edge, but if you go with him, he'll follow you anywhere.

I wish more than anything that I could be there today. I wish I could see his face when he takes this step with you, and that I could stand there with my husband and experience this day with all of you. I think that's one of the things I'll miss the most. But today isn't about me. You reading this letter means that my son loves you. And when a Maddox boy falls in love, he loves forever.
Please give my baby boy a kiss for me. My wish for both of you is that the biggest fight you have is over who is the most forgiving.

Love,
Diane ~ Jamie McGuire

You know, I earn a good living with that hand." Brody's eyes narrowed on our joined hands. Mine was squeezing all the color from his, except where my nails were nearly piercing his skin.

"Sorry."

"I'm teasing. Squeeze away." He leaned toward me. "I like the feel of your nails digging into me. I miss the way they scratch at my back when you're close and I slow down."

"Really? You're going to go there when I'm busy trying to have a panic attack?"

He chuckled. "You need a distraction. ~ Vi Keeland

Miss Marshall, are you trying to tell me that you didn't dream of marrying a lord when you were young? That you didn't play at being a lady, imagining what it would be like to be waited on hand and foot? I thought every little girl with any inclination at all to marry dreamed of catching the eye of a lord."
"God, no." She looked horrified. "Farm girls who catch the eye of a lord don't end up married. If we're lucky, we don't end up pregnant. ~ Courtney Milan

To say I'll miss you seems redundant. I've been missing you for years. People have called me heartless and they're right. My heart resides with you and the only time I feel anything is when I'm in your presence. My greatest hope is that someday you will give me your heart again so I can finally feel complete. ~ Jill Prand

Dear Mama,
I hope this letter finds you well. It contains all my love and affection. (It also contains all my questions about how you could ever have loved a man like Professor Miller.)
You asked about where I live. I cannot believe I haven't mentioned it, but I suppose I'm so used to it now I don't think of it. The dorms are small and plain, but as a student I don't need much more. (I cannot afford the dorms. I do not live in them.) The food is dreadful, all heavy meat and sauce. I miss fruit! (I am always hungry; a supper with a strange man was the fullest my stomach has been since I got here.)
As I have mentioned in every letter, my professors are all interesting and I take copious notes during lectures. (If you do not bring up my father, I am certainly not going to offer you information on that louse of a man.) The course work is challenging but I am excelling. (I have to be perfect so they can find no excuse to dock my grades.)
I have delivered Aunt Nani's package to Jacabo. He was so happy to receive it, and I take tea with him once a week. It is a great comfort to speak Melenese with someone. (I live in the hotel where Jacabo works. He saved me when I realized I could not afford room and board at the school. I work long, hard hours in the evenings to earn a tiny hole of a servant's room and whatever scraps of food are left over.)
Please give everyone my love and tell them how much I am learning to bring back to the island as a teacher. (I will ~ Kiersten White

The man reached into his coat and pulled out a wallet containing an ID card. "Agent Dwight, FBI. Miss Baker, I need you to come with me. You're in danger here."
"In danger?" Robin said. "In danger from what?"
"Not from what. From who," Agent Dwight said, and glanced over at Creek. "You're in danger from him. He's going to kill you, Miss Baker. At least he is going to try."
Robin turned to Creek. "You bastard," she said. "You never said anything about killing me when we made the date."
~ John Scalzi

I wanted to tell Sam this. I wanted to tell him all of it, in beautiful handwritten letters or at least in long, rambling emails that we would later save and print out and that would be found in the attic of our house when we had been married fifty years for our grandchildren to coo over. But I was so tired those first few weeks that all I did was email him about how tired I was.

I'm so tired. I miss you.
Me too.
No, like really, really tired. Like cry at TV advertisements and fall asleep while brushing my teeth and end up with toothpaste all over my chest tired.
Okay, now you got me.

I tried not to mind how little he emailed me. I tried to remind myself that he was doing a real, hard job, saving lives and making a difference, while I was sitting outside manicurists' studios and running around Central Park.

His supervisor had changed the rota. He was working four nights on the trot and still waiting to be assigned a new permanent partner. That should have made it easier for us to talk but somehow it didn't. I would check in on my phone in the minutes I had free every evening but that was usually the time he was heading off to begin his shift.

Sometimes I felt curiously disjointed, as if I had simply dreamt him up.

One week, he reassured me. One more week.

How hard could it be? ~ Jojo Moyes

Uh, Miss Carlson," I said, standing at her desk after everybody else had gone on to their next class, "somebody told me you went to that guy's funeral the one the highway patrol shot."
"Yes," SHe said. "I did."
She didn't look like she was mad at me about it. She had real long eyelashes. I bet she was good-looking when she was young.
"Was he a relative or something?" That was what I was afraid of.
"No. Not even a friend really." She paused, like she was hunting for the right words. Finally she said, "I read a book once that ended with the words 'the incommunicable past' You can only share the past with someone who's shared it with you. So I can't explain to you what Mark was to me, exactly. I knew him a long time ago. ~ S.E. Hinton

Good answer! Part of us thinks all kinds of things," said Mrs Ogg.
"Part of me is thinking: who's this haughty little miss who talks to me as if I was a kiddie of five? But most of me is thinking: she's got a heap of troubles of her own and has seen plenty of things a human shouldn't have to see. Mind you, part of me says: so have I. Seeing things a human shouldn't have to see makes us human. Well, miss … if you've any sense, part of you is thinking, there's a witch in front of me who's seen my granddad many times, when she's sat by a sickbed that's suddenly become a deathbed, and if she's ready to spit in his eye when the time comes then she could probably bother me considerably right now if she puts her mind to it. Understand? Let's all keep our parts to ourselves," and suddenly she gave Susan a wink, "as the High Priest said to the actress. ~ Terry Pratchett

Jay showed up after school with a bouquet of flowers and an armful of DVDs, although Violet couldn't have cared less about either . . . he was all she wanted. She couldn't help the electric thrill of excitement she felt when he came strolling in, grinning at her foolishly as if he hadn't seen her in weeks rather than hours. He scooped her up from the couch and dropped her onto his lap as he sat down where she had been just a moment before. He was careful to arrange her ankle on a neatly stacked pile of pillows beside him.
He stubbornly refused to hide his affection for her, and if Violet hadn't known better she would have sword that he was going out of his way to make her self-conscious in her own home. Fortunately her parents were giving them some space for the time being, and they were left by themselves most of the time.
"Did you miss me?" he asked arrogantly as he gently brushed his lips over hers, not bothering to wait for an answer.
She smiled while she kissed him back, loving the topsy-turvy feeling that her stomach always got when he was so close to her. She wound her arms around his neck, forgetting that she was in the middle of the family room and not hidden away in the privacy of her bedroom.
He pulled away from her, suddenly serious. "You know, we didn't get much time alone yesterday. And I didn't get a chance to tell you . . ."
Violet was mesmerized by the thick timbre of his deep voice. She barely heard his words but rather concentrated ~ Kimberly Derting

Do you remember how your mom would wrap the presents so well it'd take at least five minutes to find where you could rip the paper?"
I snorted. "Yes, and they were wrapped so much it was like unwrapping a hundred packages from morning 'til lunch. It was Mom's way of extending Christmas."
"I loved that - it always built the excitement. Just when you thought you had it, you had to unroll it. I miss her - she was like a second mother to me. ~ Shaye Evans

The Nurse's Song

This mighty man of whom I sing,
The greatest of them all,
Was once a teeny little thing,
Just eighteen inches tall.

I knew him as a tiny tot,
I nursed him on my knee.
I used to sit him on the pot
And wait for him to wee.

I always washed between his toes,
And cut his little nails.
I brushed his hair and wiped his nose
And weighed him on the scales.

Through happy childhood days he strayed,
As all nice children should.
I smacked him when he disobeyed,
And stopped when he was good.

It soon began to dawn on me
He wasn't very bright,
Because when he was twenty-three
He couldn't read or write.

"What shall we do?" his parents sob.
"The boy has got the vapors!
He couldn't even get a job
Delivering the papers!"

"Ah-ha," I said, "this little clot
Could be a politician."
"Nanny," he cried, "Oh Nanny, what
A super proposition!"

"Okay," I said, "let's learn and note
The art of politics.
Let's teach you how to miss the boat
And how to drop some bricks,
And how to win the people's vote
And lots of other tricks.

Let's learn to make a speech a day
Upon the T.V. screen,
In which you never never say
Exactly what you mean.
And most important, by the way,
In not to let your teeth decay,
And keep your fingers clean."

Roald Dahl

Okay, so I shouldn't have fucked with her on the introduction thing. Writing nothing except, Saturday night. You and me. Driving lessons and hot sex ... in her notebook probably wasn't the smartest move. But I was itching to make Little Miss Perfecta stumble in her introduction of me. And stumbling she is.
"Miss Ellis?"
I watch in amusement as Perfection herself looks up at Peterson. Oh, she's good. This partner of mine knows how to hide her true emotions, something I recognize because I do it all the time.
"Yes?" Brittany says, tilting her head and smiling like a beauty queen.
I wonder if that smile has ever gotten her out of a speeding ticket.
"It's your turn. Introduce Alex to the class."
I lean an elbow on the lab table, waiting for an introduction she has to either make up or fess up she knows less than crap about me. She glances at my comfortable position and I can tell from her deer-in-the-headlights look I've stumped her.
"This is Alejandro Fuentes," she starts, her voice hitching the slightest bit. My temper flares at the mention of my given name, but I keep a cool facade as she continues with a made-up introduction. "When he wasn't hanging out on street corners and harassing innocent people this summer, he toured the inside of jails around the city, if you know what I mean. And he has a secret desire nobody would ever guess."
The room suddenly becomes quiet. Even Peterson straightens to attention. Hell, even I'm liste ~ Simone Elkeles

Stop!" she called out.
To a one, the crewmen froze. A dozen heads swiveled to face her.
Sophia swallowed and turned to Mr. Grayson. "What about me? I'm also a virgin voyager."
His lips quirked as his gaze swept her from head to toe and then back up partway. "Are you truly?"
"Yes. And I haven't a coin to my name. Do you plan to dunk and shave me, too?"
"Now there's an idea." His grin widened. "Perhaps. But first, you must submit to an interrogation."
A lump formed in Sophia's throat, impossible to speak around.
Mr. Grayson raised that sonorous baritone to a carrying pitch. "What's your name then, miss?" When Sophia merely firmed her chin and glared at him, he warned dramatically, "Truth or eels."
Bang.
Excited whispers crackled through the assembly of sailors. Davy was completely forgotten, dropped to the deck with a dull thud. Even the wind held its breath in anticipation, and Sophia gave a slight jump when a sail smacked limp against the mast.
Though her heart pounded an erratic rhythm of distress, she willed her voice to remain even. "I've no intention of submitting myself to any interrogation, by god or man." She lifted her chin and arched an eyebrow. "And I'm not impressed by your staff."
She paused several seconds, waiting for the crew's boisterous laughter to ebb.
Mr. Grayson pinned her with his bold, unyielding gaze. "You dare to speak to me that way? I'm Triton." With each word, he stepped closer. "King of th ~ Tessa Dare

You'd like some soothin', wouldn't you, Mr. Fairfax?" she asked in a sympathetic voice. A raw chuckle left his throat as he thought of Emma forcing this poor little minx into a calico dress and an old lady's snood. "I sure would, Callie," he answered honestly, "but I'm afraid there's only one woman I want." A mischievous grin curved Callie's mouth. "Miss Emma?" "The same," Steven admitted with a sigh, "but don't you tell her. I want this to be our little secret." Callie sat down in the chair Emma always occupied when she read to him. He found himself missing that redheaded hellcat with a fierce keenness, as though they'd been parted a month instead of a few hours. "She got real upset, Miss Emma did," Callie confided in a happy whisper, "when I came over here and told her Miss Chloe'd sent me to look after you." Steven laughed. "Good," he replied, staring out the window at the sun. It seemed to be immersing itself in the far side of the lake. "I'm making progress." Callie ~ Linda Lael Miller

I'm going to miss him like hell when he's gone," she eventually continued. "It's going to rip half my soul out. If you weren't here for me, I would fucking give up and die the minute he quit breathing. ~ Tymber Dalton

You know, it's funny what you'll miss when you're away from home. Now me, I miss the smell of coffee ... and bacon frying in the morning. ~ Fannie Flagg

And there's you,
with your purity and beauty.
You unyoke me.

We lie on the bed,
closer than a hand in a glove,
yet I still experience this distant ache.
I miss you even in your presence.

How did love find me
when I hid from it so masterfully?
How did love know when to strike?

I look into your infinite eyes
and can say nothing.
Because there, in front of me,
lies everything.
And you unyoke me. ~ Kamand Kojouri

And you must appear willing to marry me," Oliver said.
"I understand."
"Do you? It means you'll have to act as if you enjoy my company."
To his surprise, a small smile curved her lips. "I believe I can manage that." Then, as if realizing she was softening, she wiped the smile from her face. "But you must behave responsibly, too."
"By not trying to seduce you, you mean."
She started. "No! I mean, yes…I mean, you already said you have more urgent concerns." Alarm rose in her cheeks. "Oh dear, I forgot that you also said you have no honor or morals."
He'd made similar assertions half his life, yet tonight he regretted making them. Shocking young ladies seemed to have lost some of its appeal.
"All the same, Miss Butterfield, I promise that your virtue is safe from me." When she looked skeptical, he added, "You're not the sort of woman I prefer." A respectable woman came with strings attached.
"Of course I'm not," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Anyone can see that."
That took him aback.
She went on. "A man with no morals isn't going to want a woman who has them. She'd never let him do anything wicked."
Freddy coughed, as if choking on something. Oliver understood why. Miss Butterfield had an unnerving way of cutting everything down to its essence.
"Yes," he said, for lack of a better response. "Quite." Then he narrowed his gaze on her. "So what did you mean when you said I had to 'behave responsibly'?"
"You prom ~ Sabrina Jeffries

You are grown, Abby, dear. You're amazing. I don't know why you don't see that." "But, that's just it. I do see that. I know I'm amazing and that people should get over the past and see that I'm an adult who likes to dance and not just knit. They need to get over the fact that my parents always fought and don't even know who I am anymore. They need to know that I'm not the goody-goody they think I am. But that's not going to happen in a town where everyone knows the exact brand of tampons I use and when I need to buy them." Jordan curled a lip and shook her head. "That's just sick. You know, that was one part of small-town living I didn't miss." "Yeah, just wait until they make a connection to when you stop buying them. Because believe me, they're watching to see when you and Matt make a mini Cooper." She laughed at her own joke, even as Jordan's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right? We just got married. ~ Carrie Ann Ryan

It's when I'm standing six feet away from you and not being able to find the words to tell you how much I love you and how much I miss you that I want to just scream to the whole room that I'm still in love with you. It's when I'm sitting alone with the phone in my hand dialing your number and hanging up that I would trade a thousand tomorrows for just one yesterday. Then I could just call you to tell you goodnight. It's when I am really sad about something and need someone to talk to that I realize you're the only one who really knew me at all. It's when I cry myself to sleep at night and it hits me how much I would give to hold you at that very moment. It's when I think about you that I realize no one else in the world is meant for me. ~ James Frey

So it looks like I'll be stuck hugging a photograph."
"I'm sorry," Emma said. "No, that's not true. I'm glad. I want you to miss me desperately."
"I think you'll get your wish," Jimmy said. "When will you come back?"
"Next summer, definitely, whether Dad wants me to come or not. I'll be an independent girl with a college degree. Maybe some paper like the Miami Herald or the LA Times will offer me a job. In the meantime, we have the National Geographic piece to pull together. We can still be a team."
"Be warned that I may come after you."
"If you do, there's something I want you to bring me."
"Sure. Anything," Jimmy said, "as long as it's not some kind of exotic pet. What?"
"This." Emma took Jimmy's face in her hands and looked straight in his eyes. She then placed her lips on his and gave him a kiss. It was a kiss that erased the pain and eradicated the bad memories, a kiss that left nothing but joy and a promise for things to come. ~ Victoria Griffith

My wife and I had called on Miss Stein, and she and the friend who lived with her had been very cordial and friendly and we had loved the big studio with the great paintings. I t was like one of the best rooms in the finest museum except there was a big fireplace and it was warm and comfortable and they gave you good things to eat and tea and natural distilled liqueurs made from purple plums, yellow plums or wild raspberries.
Miss Stein was very big but not tall and was heavily built like a peasant woman. She had beautiful eyes and a strong German-Jewish face that also could have been Friulano and she reminded me of a northern I talian peasant woman with her clothes, her mobile face and her lovely, thick, alive immigrant hair which she wore put up in the same way she had probably worn it in college. She talked all the time and at first it was about people and places.
Her companion had a very pleasant voice, was small, very dark, with her hair cut like Joan of Arc in the Boutet de Monvel illustrations and had a very hooked nose. She was working on a piece of needlepoint when we first met them and she worked on this and saw to the food and drink and talked to my wife. She made one conversation and listened to two and often interrupted the one she was not making. Afterwards she explained to me that she always talked to the wives. The wives, my wife and I felt, were tolerated. But we liked Miss Stein and her friend, although the friend was frightening. The paintings and ~ Ernest Hemingway

I promise you that I will not call. I have called you enough, and woken you enough times, in the years when we were together and in the years since then. But there are nights now in this strange, flat and forsaken place when those sad echoes and dim feelings come to me slightly more intensely than before. They are like whispers, or trapped whimpering sounds. ~ Colm Toibin

Excuse me? Did I miss something? What has ever been romantic about vomit?
"A man standing by your side when you're sick. Holding your hair back from your face ... that's romantic."
"In what alternate universe do you live? Here in a place I like to call reality, that's disgusting. Who in their right mind would find that romantic? ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

As for us,Etienne was right.Our schools are only a twenty-minute transit ride away.He'll stay with me on the weekends, and we'll visit each other as often as possible during the week. We'll be together.We both got our Point Zero wishes-each other.He said he wished for me every time.He was wishing for me when I entered the tower.
"Mmm," I say.He's kissing my neck.
"That's it," Rashmi says. "I'm outta here.Enjoy your hormones."
Josh and Mer follow her exit,and we're alone.Just the way I like it.
"Ha!" Ettiene says. "Just the way I like it."
He pulls me onto his lap,and I wrap my legs around his waist.His lips are velvet soft,and we kiss until the streetlamps flicker on outside. Until the opera singer begins her evening routine. "I'm going to miss her," I say.
"I'll sing to you." He tucks my stripe behind my ear. "Or I'll take you to the opera.Or I'll fly you back here to visit. Whatever you want.Anything you want."
I lace my fingers through his. "I want to stay right here,in this moment."
"Isn't that the name of the latest James Ashley bestseller? In This Moment?"
"Careful.Someday you'll meet him, and he won't be nearly as amusing in person."
Etienne grins. "Oh,so he'll only be mildly amusing? I suppose I can handle mildly amusing."
"I'm serious! You have to promise me right now,this instant,that you won't leave me once you meet him.Most people would run."
"I'm not most people."
I smile. "I know.But you still have ~ Stephanie Perkins

Yes, Keith shut up." Roberta's sly grin turned her face into a mask of pure evil. "So, let me get this straight. Miss Bitchy-Witch wants to go, no, is demanding to go to Hell and make a deal with the Devil, huh? Offering yourself in trade for a mutt and some ancient pussy? Very noble and honorable, Selena. Stupid, but just what I'd expect from a coward like you. Why fight, when you can surrender, right? Myself, I find your willingness to sacrifice your own life for those creatures rather disgusting and I don't know what Father sees in you. ~ Madison Sevier