You Like Her Not Me Quotes

And you are going to get her far away from here. Keep her hidden." She planted her hands on her hips. "And here we were just keeping her holed up in a tiny little house in a completely random mining sector. Why didn't it ever occur to us to try and keep her hidden?" Kinney's face was unreadable for a long moment before he asked, "You understand sarcasm?" "Of course I understand sarcasm," she spat. "It's not like it's theoretical physics, is it?" The guard's jaw worked for a moment, before he shook his head and turned away. ~ Marissa Meyer

Thinking like a Mountain
We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then, and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes - something known only to her and to the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters' paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view.…I now suspect that just as a deer herd lives in mortal fear of its wolves, so does a mountain live in mortal fear of its deer. And perhaps with better cause, for while a buck pulled down by wolves can be replaced in two or three years, a range pulled down by too many deer may fail of replacement in as many decades. So also with cows. The cowman who cleans his range of wolves does not realize that he is taking over the wolf's job of trimming the herd to fit the range. He has not learned to think like a mountain. Hence we have dustbowls, and rivers washing the future into the sea. ~ Aldo Leopold

I am only saying that I will find you mad wolves to hunt," Ian told his wife, "and that I will never break your heart." If part of that heart was always out of reach, that seemed entirely fair to Ian. You did not get a whole heart when you pinned yours to a splendid, battered, high-flying hawk like a Night Witch. Nina's soul would always in some deep place yearn to be soaring under a bomber's moon with her dark-eyed Moscow rose, and that was fine. Ian thought there was a chance, despite her prickles, that a bit of that remaining heart might thaw enough for him. ~ Kate Quinn

Lucien expected to find Horatia somewhere in the hall, but it was his mother who was lying in wait for him. She looked more dangerous than a cobra nestled in a basket.
"I should like a private word with you, Lucien."
Her tone did not bode well. It was too close to the one she used to lure him into a false sense of security before he was paddled as a child. He was well beyond his paddling years, but should his mother entertain such thoughts again he would most assuredly escape out the nearest window or door before she could get her hands on him.
He'd often wondered if perhaps there was some secret pamphlet that a mother received upon the birth of her first child that bore instructions on how to instill fear in one's child with only a look. If there was, his mother had been a quick study. Perhaps she had written the latest edition.

-His Wicked Seduction ~ Lauren Smith

I waited for years for my infatuation to blow over, managing it like a chronic illness. But suppression only sustains and intensifies passion instead of letting it peter out into domesticity, the way the narrow glass canyons of Manhattan Venturi the winds to a pitch that rips umbrellas inside out. Kati Jo used to say she wished Lauren and I could just fuck so I'd get it out of my system, but I never wanted anything as feasible as an affair. I never imagined that Lauren might leave her husband, or entertained shameful little daydreams about his death. The only scenario I could plausibly picture that would bring us together was not Lars's death but my own. I would contract some painless terminal illness that would entitle me to ask Lauren to sit at my bedside in my last months and read to me or bring me little sandwiches. I couldn't envision any realistic way of changing this world; what I wanted was to live in a different one. I was never really a reformer, but a utopian. ~ Tim Kreider

I really like to watch a porn, but mostly my dream is to fuck a woman. It's interesting to see how her lips touch your dick, I'm sure that the feeling, incrediable. But this isn't anything with she to have orgasm! To watch you right in the face, right in the eyes is interesting and not freaky, but it's more awesome to be such position to be in orgasm + to suck your cock gently. It's interesting, how woman watch the end proccess of jerk off, how they lick the dick like it's hot and they want to make it cold!
Ooh, that's one of my favourite faces how the sperm from the dick goes right on the face. It's really interesting the dick to be more large and big from a woman foot and hands, even from her mouth that's one of my favourite parts in the porn. It's interesting to look the dick like a pussy cat or more awesome the dick to goes slowly in the pussy! When a woman is getting fucked she to laugh that's the interesting part. ~ Deyth Banger

Gymnastic as well as music should begin in early years; the training in it should be careful and should continue through life. Now my belief is, - and this is a matter upon which I should like to have your opinion in confirmation of my own, but my own belief is, - not that the good body by any bodily excellence improves the soul, but, on the contrary, that the good soul, by her own excellence, improves the body as far as this may be possible. What do you say? Yes, I agree. Then, ~ Plato

Cole, did you ever stop to think maybe on some level Brandon knew you always loved Gemma and maybe this was his way of driving you two together?" Cole went quiet for a moment, then angled his head. "Have you been taking shrink classes, pal?" Jack laughed and toyed with his dog tags. "No, but I've been to enough of them to know how this all works." He got quiet for a moment, like he was thinking about his own demons, before saying, "I know Brandon asked you to watch over her, but she's a strong, independent woman. Maybe she's not in need of your protection. ~ Cathryn Fox

Getting tired already, minnow?" Toraf taunts as he wraps strong arms around Galen's neck in a choke hold.
Galen promptly flips him forward and onto his back. Toraf bounces once with the force. "You must have been drinking salt water," Galen returns, "to have delusions like that."
Toraf kicks Galen's legs out from under him, and the scuffle is taken to the floor. Just when I wonder how long this can really go on, the older Syrena steps into the dining room and confirms his identity with the authority in his voice. "That's enough. Get up."
Toraf scrambles to his feet and steps away from Galen, who reluctantly complies. "Yes, Highness. Sorry, Highness," Toraf says, breathless. There is not a small amount of shame on Toraf's face.
In fact, even Galen looks conscience stricken. "Apologies, King Antonis," he says quickly. "I didn't see you there."
King Antonis. Mom's dad. My grandfather. Holy!
Antonis lifts his chin, satisfied. "I didn't think so."
Mom steps over the dish debris and embraces her dad. "Thank you for interrupting. It was getting a tad boring. It was obvious no one would win."
Mom is such a dude sometimes. Grom winks at Galen, who shrugs. ~ Anna Banks

I found it curious that people kept animals for companionship and not food. When I'd asked Mama Oaks when she planned to cook the fat creature that slept in a basket in the kitchen, her eyes almost popped out of her head. Since then, she'd kept her pet away from me, like she suspected I meant to turn it into stew. Clearly, I had a lot to learn. ~ Ann Aguirre

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into another kiss, and she melted into him, pressing as close as she could, and still he wanted to be closer. Her fingers threading into his hair, his around her waist, moving, exploring. Calculations had no room here, probability and chances washed away to a deeper longing. His tongue traced the contour of her lips, memorizing her taste, her motion, her method. The kiss lit a million suns in between his zeroes and ones, and made him infinite.
He did not want to let go. He did not want to leave--he WOULD not. It was that voice that cried this, deep inside him, growing louder and louder. It was selfish. It was damning. But he did not want to forget the taste of her, her warmth, her curves, her smell. It was selfish and it was human.
And for a moment he allowed himself to be.
Until finally, she slid away, coming up for air. "You, too?" she whispered, her breath hot against his lips, hopeful, her eyes blazing like suns rising for him.
He pressed his forehead against hers. "On iron and stars," he promised. ~ Ashley Poston

All I wanted was to show you that I've changed. That I'm not the same person I was in college." She sounds defeated.
"Well, guess what? You haven't changed all that much. You're still the same girl I fell in love with at twenty-two. And here's a newsflash: I like that girl and always have, and I never once said I wanted her to change. ~ Tracey Garvis Graves

Do you see those dull stars?" She outlined the formation with her finger.
"A pentagram," whispered Scott.
"Yes, but not just any pentagram. Take a look through the telescope."
Scott approached the eyepiece.
"They're not stars!"
"What do they look like?" asked Jenn.
Scott studied each of the figures.
"It can't be," he stuttered. "Planets?"
"Exactly what I thought."
"But how? They're completely off their orbits."
"The earth's off its axis."
"Mount Etna erupted."
"Greece had a earthquake."
"The whole universe has gone mad!" Scott exclaimed.
"And my friends have supernatural powers," said Jenn. ~ Katie Mattie

It wasn't supposed to. It was just supposed to stop you from hurting yourself." "It helps - " "No it doesn't. It just pushes it away temporarily. Just like the booze." "But I need - " "You need to let yourself feel. Feel it, own it. Then move on." "You make it sound so easy." Bitterness drips from each syllable. "It's not. It's the fucking hardest thing a person can do." I smooth a damp strand out of her face and away from my mouth. "It's the hardest fucking thing. It's why we drink and do drugs and fight. It's why I play music and build engines. ~ Jasinda Wilder

What do you think of it?" Claire had asked her then. "It's a dump." Claire had smiled. "Exactly, thank you. Just watch." Maya had no creativity for such things. She could not see the potential. Claire could. She had that kind of touch. Soon the two words that came to mind when you pulled up to the home were "cheerful" and "homey." The whole place ended up looking like a happy kid's crayon drawing somehow, with the sun always shining and the flowers taller than the front door. That ~ Harlan Coben

She said she loved this place. This is the last she'll see of it. I'll watch for one tear, one human tear. Not that blank hating moonstruck face. I'll listen ... If she says good-bye perhaps adieu. Adieu
like those old-time songs she sang. Always adieu (and all the songs say it). If she too says it, or weeps, I'll take her in my arms, my lunatic. She's mad but mine, mine. What will I care for gods or devils or for Fate itself. If she smiles or weeps or both. For me.
Antoinetta
I can be gentle too. Hide your face. Hide yourself but in my arms. You'll soon see how gentle. My lunatic. My mad girl. ~ Jean Rhys

The crew of the Argo II assembled at the rail and cut the grappling lines. Piper brought out her new horn of plenty and, on Percy's direction, willed it to spew Diet Coke, which came out with the strength of a fire hose, dousing the enemy deck. Percy thought it would take hours, but the ship sank remarkably fast, filling with Diet Coke and seawater. "Dionysus," Percy called, holding up Chrysaor's golden mask. "Or Bacchus - whatever. You made this victory possible, even if you weren't here. Your enemies trembled at your name ... or your Diet Coke, or something. So, yeah, thank you." The words were hard to get out, but Percy managed not to gag. "We give this ship to you as tribute. We hope you like it." "Six million in gold," Leo muttered. "He'd better like it. ~ Rick Riordan

Nothing is more occult than the way letters, under the auspices of unimaginable carriers, circulate through the weird mess of civil wars; but whenever, owing to that mess, there was some break in our correspondence, Tamara would act as if she ranked deliveries with ordinary natural phenomena such as the weather or tides, which human affairs could not affect, and she would accuse me of not answering her, when in fact I did nothing but write to her and think of her during those months
despite my many betrayals ... and the sense of leaving Russia was totally eclipsed by the agonizing thought that Reds or no Reds, letters from Tamara would be still coming, miraculously and needlessly, to southern Crimea, and would search there for a fugitive addressee, and weakly flap about like bewildered butterflies set loose in an alien zone, at the wrong altitude, among an unfamiliar flora. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

I do not have a hero complex. I have always been attracted to strong, independent women. I like a girl who has her shit together. No strings. Simple. Confident. But the way she nearly sighed the word 'broken'--as if it was her sole identifier, as if it's branded on her somehow, as if admitting this has cost her dearly, shamed her--just killed me a little bit. I want to save her. I want to be her hero. I want to make her see she is so much more than her damaged past. ~ Cheryl McIntyre

What you said before…" He stopped and seemed to consider his words. "When you said love isn't about control…what did you mean?"
The insecurity in his voice charmed her down to her toes. "Well. I just think that love is supposed to empower, not subdue. To love someone unconditionally, is to give them the freedom to be who they are. There's no room for control. If you're telling someone who they should or
shouldn't be…well, that's not unconditional, is it? And there's no such thing as conditional love."
She waited for his response, but he stayed quiet, so she continued. "My dad always said love is like a stallion. You can try to tame it but you'll miss out on its most beautiful form." She snuggled closer to his warmth. "When it's wild and free, with no restricting fences, it can go on forever."
He didn't say anything for a moment and her lids grew heavy. His deep voice shook her awake again. "But, if you love someone, you do what's best for them."
Though he phrased it as a statement, she heard the question in his voice. "No. If you love someone, you support them in figuring out what's best for themselves. ~ Leia Shaw

Oh God. We're talking about me being naked, in the shower with cooter cream. Please world, end. Kill me.

"I know it's not soap. I just… if it's scented… I can't do scented. Flowers and stuff like that. Fruit-flavored soaps make… things… burnish." She could tell from the peeks at his face Mr. Fitzwell had never stepped foot in bath and lotion store, wanting to try the array of fun fragrances. Nor had he purchased Peppermint Candy shower gel, foamed up his nether regions, and felt like he had dipped them in lava. Dove crossed and uncrossed her legs at the memory.

Mr. Fitzwell seemed concerned. "Okay, just a heads-up. It's definitely not good to put any fruits or plant life near your genitals." He made a V with his hands and formed his own pretend vagina in front of his pants.

Dove covered her eyes and tried to defend herself because now she could hear the sickly older woman beating her supporters with a purse.

Dove's mumbling got louder with her embarrassment. "I don't put weird things down… there. Just make sure that the cream's vagina-scented. Just plain. For vaginas." She kept her eyes on the counter. ~ Debra Anastasia

Truth be told, I'm still in awe of her, but I found it easier to relate to her. She really made me see that we are all the same. We all suffer the same feelings of inadequacy because we are not like others, but that's what makes us so special too. ~ Michele Jennae

Witch-sign, they said. Little eddies, like miniature storms breaking the surface of the ocean. Witch-signs rise up in great numbers, last a few minutes, and then disappear. When the whirlpools are gone, all that's left is floating petals. Black sea roses.

Anomalies.

I'm not afraid. A queer chill settles into my bones, and I huddle, pulling my knees closer to my chest. What if Ilven's death really did raise something up out of the waters? But those stories Nala is talking about - they're just … fancies. There's no real truth to them, they're Hob tales. That's what our House crake taught me. Of course, Ilven always did find the old stories fascinating and told me how she secretly wished that they were still real, that there was more to magic than just the scriv-forced power of the Houses.

Oh Ilven. Bound now below the sea, caught in the kelp forests, nibbled at, her hair full of crabs and little ghost shrimp, a ghost herself. I choke on a sadness so sharp that it has sliced me in two. ~ Cat Hellisen

A face stared up at her from the mirror beside her hand. Was that really what she looked like? Was that really what she looked like, all sharp lines and huge silver-grey eyes? Certainly, no one would ever call those features beautiful, Jame thought ruefully; but were they really enough like a boy's to have fooled that old man the alley? Well, maybe with that long black hair out of sight under a cap. It was a very young face and a defiant one, she thought with a odd sense of detachment, but frightened, too. And those extraordinary eyes ... what memories lived in them that she could not share? Stranger, where have you been she asked silently. What have you seen? The thin lips locked in their secrets.
"Ahhh!" Jame said in sudden disgust, tossing away the mirror. Fool, to be obsessed with a past she couldn't even remember. But it was all behind her now. ~ P.C. Hodgell

Kiss me already, god. I can't take the hungry looks any longer." She told him with boldness. Her breath fanning his face and her eyes … fuck, her eyes could seduce any man and they trained on him.

Then he kissed her.

A growl gurgling at the back of his throat, he took her lips like he'd been starving for his whole life waiting for a kiss like this one.

Her mouth offered him everything Butcher didn't know he'd needed and now was dying for.

She was a breath. A yearning.
Her mouth parted so inviting and he dove in with his tongue.

When her taste filled his mouth, the ticking bomb inside his head intensified. It only grew louder as her fingers speared into his hair and kissed him back like she was meant to kiss only him.

Like she needed his flavor drenching her mouth in the same way.
She moaned.
Butcher grunted his arousal, holding the back of her head to keep her right there. And when her mouth opened again, he pushed in to chase her tongue.

His free hand sloped down the curve of her back until he had a grip of her ass, helping her to move on him. Fuck, she was like a serpent curling her hips, driving him crazy and then crazier still, he lifted his pelvis from the chair in hopes of getting closer to that heaven but that would only happen if she let Butcher take her somewhere private.
One more taste.
Another bite and suck.
One more bruising kiss.
Not a kiss. It was a po ~ V. Theia

You didn't like him, did you, Dad?"
"It wasn't that I didn't like him," my dad says slowly. "It was just that he lives in a completely different world, and I worried that he didn't really approve of you the way you are, that he was trying to change you into something else."
God, I never realized my dad was that perceptive..
"You see, the thing is," he says after we've both sat for a while in the sunshine, "the thing is that love is really the most important thing. I know it's hard for you to see it now" - he chuckles quietly- "but when I first laid eyes on your mother I thought she was fantastic, and I've never stopped loving her, not for a second. Oh yes, we've had our rough patches, and she can be a bit of an old battle-ax at times, but I still love her. That in-love feeling at the beginning settles down into a different, familiar sort of love, but it has to be there right from the start, otherwise it just won't work. ~ Jane Green

Dunford arrived a few minutes later and gave her an approving nod. "You look lovely, Henry."
She smiled her thanks but decided not to put too much stock in his compliment. It sounded like the sort of thing he said automatically to any woman in his vicinity. ~ Julia Quinn

It's time we woke up, women are pretty much people, seems to me. I know they dress like fools- but who´s to blame for that? We invent all those idiotic hats of theirs, and design their crazy fashions, and, what's more, if a woman is courageous enough to wear common-sense clothes -and shoes- which of us wants to dance with her? Yes, we blame them for gratifying us, but are we willing to let our wives work? We are not. It hurts our pride, that's all. We are always criticizing them for doing mercenary marriages, but what do we call a girl who marries a chump with no money? Just a poor fool, that's all. And they know it.
As for Mother Eve- I wasn't there and I can't deny the story, but I will say this. If she brought evil into the world, we men have had the loin's share of keeping it going ever since- how about that? ~ Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Now you're concerned with the laws? I didn't realize you could pick and choose which ones to follow, Jagen. That sounds pretty convenient, huh?" She earns a few nods of approval from their audience, not the least of which comes from King Antonis. He watches her intensely, pride stuck on his face like squid ink. Galen knows the feeling.
Emma pauses, and her whole demeanor changes from huntress to mother as she looks to the accumulation of fish above her. "Those who need air may surface. Come back when you're done. Young ones go first."
Emma turns her attention back to the Syrena. "I possess the Gift of Poseidon. Look around you and deny it."
Jagen's nostrils flare. "Do not let yourselves be charmed by this Half-Breed, as Poseidon did so long ago. That's why Triton ordered all Half-Breeds killed in the first place, is it not? And now you would allow her to defile the sanctity of our Arena with her lies of having the sacred Gift of Poseidon?"
Rayna pushes through the audience, and to Galen's dismay she's holding Toraf's hand. She propels them both into the center. Toraf and Galen exchange nods, but Galen feels as though icicles run through his veins. Emma shouldn't be here. And she's here because of him.
"I, for one, do not believe she has the Gift of Poseidon," Rayna says gleefully. "If you have the Gift of Poseidon, make those hammerheads attack Jagen where he stands."
Galen pinches the bridge of his nose. Toraf smirks at him, but Galen will not r ~ Anna Banks

Have you ever tried really hard not to love somebody too much?"
"Why?"
"It's simple, really. If I love her too much, it's painful. I can't take it. I don't think my heart can stand it, which is why I'm trying not to fall in love with her."
"What are you doing, exactly, so that you don't love her too much?"
"I've tried all kinds of things," he said. "But it all boils down to intentionally thinking negative thoughts about her as much as I can. I mentally list as many of her defects as I can come up with - her imperfections, I should say. And I repeat these over and over in my head like a mantra, convincing myself not to love this woman more than I should."
"Has it worked?"
"No, not so well. ~ Haruki Murakami

Eva seemed to be on some sort of mission to work her evil/cute baby magic on me. Ever since she'd started toddling around on those chubby little legs, she'd been targeting me, the least enthusiastic baby person in the room. I think she enjoyed the challenge, which proved that we were related.
Eva would tug on my pants leg until I picked her up. And then she'd basically stare me down with those big blue-grey eyes of hers, daring me not to snuggle her. It was like facing down a tiny, diapered mastermind.
And of course, I caved. I snuggled her. I babbled. I read her Where the Wild Things Are until I was hoarse. I actually found myself watching my language. Shudder. ~ Molly Harper

After they left the office, Peabody shoved her hands in her pockets. "These nicknames are pissing me off."
"But you're not I'm-Too-Good-to-Pee-Body. Harris is."
"It's my damn name. And now I have to pee. It's like my bladder has to prove something."
"Pee at the bank. Consider it a deposit. ~ J.D. Robb

I was like a woman at a drawer, putting away her party dresses between tissue paper, and there he stood in the doorway-- not Stewart Applebaum, but this feeling-- gentlemanly, feral, breathtaking, peaceful, something very close to life itself, asking me for one more dance down in the meadow. ~ Rebecca Lee

She's got us, she's got us all. Caverna. She doesn't want to let us go. Do you know what she's like? A huge trap-lantern with us inside her, digesting us really, really slowly, and not wanting to let any of us go. Maybe that's the worst kind of prison – not knowing you're in a prison. Because then you don't fight to get out. ~ Frances Hardinge

You see her as this broken little thing that needs you to take care of her. She doesn't need that. She might have been broken at one time, but she's not fucking broken now. She's put it all back together. She's made a life for herself, and you're trying to change it. It's kind of like she's built this fortress around herself, brick by fucking brick, and you might think a fortress is too much, but it's not. Do you know why?"
I can only sit and stare at him.
"Do you want to know why?" he asks.
I nod. My heart is in my fucking throat.
"Because she fucking lives there, Paul. It's home for her. It's safe and it's secure and it's hers. And she built it with her own two hands. So for you to swoop in and not only try to move her out of her fortress but also to tear it down, you're fucking up everything she's worked for. ~ Tammy Falkner