He thought he’d lived through everything. Only now did he realise he’d merely existed.
God damn it, don’t you do this. You have no idea how badly I want you right now. I’d love nothing more than to bury myself inside you, and feel you lose yourself around me as you scream my name; the very idea of fucking the woman I love, , after ...
What am I to you?” He brought his forehead to hers, staring her, his eyes holding nothing but naked truth. “I’ve loved you for so long… You’re my downfall,” he whispered, his words breaking, “…and my fucking salvation.
Elena glanced up at him, taking in his words. “If you get rid of your fear? You know, I never look at you as someone who’s afraid.” “That’s because every time you look at me, I’m looking right back, and the only time I’m not afraid, is ...
She had forced herself to learn to read – picked up bits and pieces, here and there, from the very few teachers who had been patient with her; from looking at words while out and about; from television, and from friends. And to avoid the shouting a...
Hope – or perhaps delusion – was a flame that had stayed lit, even though its scorching light would hurt. It had refused to go out.
Everything that matters hurts, until it doesn't matter anymore.
God,” she butted her head into his chest, “I'm so angry with myself.” “What? Why?” “Because … this is my mess I dragged you into, and you don't deserve any of it, and I feel like I'm ruining you with every single thing I say, and…” ...
I don't know what we're doing here – you and me … I don't know what we are or what we can be, but this doesn't have to be about that. This can just be about … a chance. Taking a chance.
She smiled into his mouth. “That was … wow.” “It's always wow. You're wow. I'll never get enough of you, Lydia. Not after ten years in dreams; not after forever in real life.
You're not allowed to have legs and not use them. Dance.
You want to be beaten, pummelled and driven away, so you have a reason to shut everyone out, and say 'I told you so' when it all goes to shit. The thing is, we all fuck up. All of us. Regularly. And living is painful of it. we all fuck up. What makes...
She almost never said his name. Because it made the dreams too real. Because it made the loneliness too tangible when she woke up.
You chase off every man that’s ever been interested, and you do it without even trying.
...it only takes one voice, at the right pitch, to start an avalanche.
And they said females were the moody ones. Yeah – right. No one did moods like Alpha male werewolves.
The thought of being whoever I want is a terrifying thing, because I have only ever been who everyone has wanted me to be.
The hugest changes were the ones that could not be seen – that’s where the real apocalypse lay: in people’s hearts, their souls, their beings.
It may be our actions that define us, but it is our reaction that changes the course of things.
The universe is made up of courses of action we have no say in, but we have a say in who we are, and in those choices we make , even if outside, those choices seem impossible.
