While most things require money to invest in, with efforts toward uncertain market shares maintained. Friendship is something your heart invests in, with priceless returns shared, in warm memory, remain.
There is nothing these hands can hold worth having. They cannot hold the moonlight, or the melody of a song, or even the beauty of a woman. They can touch her face, but not her beauty. Only the heart can hold such things.
Do you think, Sam, that even if it were only my own heart at risk, I could pour it into your hands again?" "Then just take mine. I'm not doing anything else with it.
I didn’t care about anything except her and the way touching her drove me wild, even as her calm and steady presence soothed the storms that raged within me.
Escape plan number seventeen," I told her. "Run away and open a juice stand in Fresno." "Why Fresno?" "Sounds like the kind of place people drink a lot of juice.
I brought my lips down to hers, and it was like everything that had ever happened to me had simply been a warm-up for this moment, that this was where my life truly began.
War is the greatest evil Satan has invented to corrupt our hearts and souls. We should honor our soldiers, but we should never honor war.
And that's the thing, I think... the real reason I'm not that weirded out by you two. It goes against all sound logic, but somehow, you two together... it just works.
She was his north star, the fixed point round which his world turned. For as long as his heart beat, or hers, he believed they would always share a destiny.
If he were to put his heart in my hand, he might never find it again. And I'm not cruel enough to let him break while he tries to heal the impossible.
Although he never speaks of how or what or why, I know that his childhood was difficult, that his parents broke his heart. Books and excess poundage are his insulation against pain.
Bourbon, Kentucky bourbon especially, is like Dante’s Inferno in a glass, fire walks down your throat, lungs, and heart and everything in between with an unpleasant after-taste. We got along just fine.
Leofgifu was skeptical, but then she always was with men. None of them could be trusted; they covered you in kisses and promises, then vanished, leaving nothing but a torn heart, and ofttimes a swelling belly.
My heart feels strong for you, my desire isn’t just to marry you and let this be our moment, Kiersten. I want to marry you and create a million moments every single day.
Ye are a scoundrel, a black-hearted robber and a rogue,' Stubble said cheerily to the grumbling captain. It was his usual way of haggling, and he'd beaten down the riverman to a decent price for conveying himself and Anvar to Lankarn.
His hand glides down my arm, folds over my hand. His fingers lace with mine, palms kissing. I can feel the fast thud of his heart through this single touch.
My heart thrashes in time with my feet pounding across the cold, hard ground. I can’t run any faster, longer, and yet I must. My life and my family’s survival depends on it.
My cancer is me. The tumors are made of me. They’re made of me as surely as my brain and my heart are made of me. It is a civil war with a predetermined winner
Seeing as this is probably my last hurrah, I don't suppose I could get you two bleeding hearts to massacre a village with me? For old time's sake. - Jackal
And then there's the sickness I feel from looking at legs I can't touch, or at lips that don't smile at me. Or hips that don't reach for me. And hearts that don't beat for me.
She didn't know whether she was running away from something or running to something, but she admitted that deep in her heart she wanted to go home.
