She had picked up life where she had left off... and hoped that would be enough to get the universe to politely overlook her.
Thanks so much," Daisy said as graciously as she could to the gift of edible underwear from her fiancé's grandmother. She was pretty sure this wasn't covered in any of the bridal etiquette guides.
After all, Sergios was not all bad. He was tough, ruthless, arrogant and selfish, but while he might have the morals of an alley cat, he had been remarkably kind to her mother.
I won’t tolerate her hurting you, my son. I’ll kill the bitch first.” “Weren’t you the one who tried to cut father’s throat before he Claimed you?” "He deserved it,
Nothing hurts me, Low Born. Absolutely nothing.” “How is that possible?” And for some reason he sounded as if he truly cared about her answer. “When you stop feeling anything, you find it quite possible.
If you ever need to confirm that a girl is worth coming back from Hell for, show her your monster arm and see what she says.
I just find it interesting that kids apparently used to cry when Bambi's mother died. George and I both held our breaths, and then cheered when she didn't reanimate and try to eat her son.
She sounds very beautiful and mysterious. I say this because you told me she is beautiful, and little else, leaving the rest to mystery, and thereby making her very mysterious.
She entered the place of her dreams along a much traveled path and returned treading very carefully in order not to shatter the tenuous visions against the harsh light of consciousness.
All that he had of her was his memory, where he held every moment, every single moment that she had been his. That was all he had, to keep out the loneliness.
Hours of being asked:"Do you understand?" But for all of her answers, she never got around the one question I had wanted to ask. "What does it feel like?
Yeah, right, like Catherine Deneuve has her own hot-guy SWAT team trolling the neighborhood for celebrity stalkers with swords" - Kate (Die For Me)
I'm trying to focus, telling myself these are just empty words, but I'm lying. Because somehow, just reading these words is too much; and the thought of her in pain is causing me an unbearable amount of agony.
He caught her staring and smiled-not a conceited I-work-out-and-have-a-great-body type smirk, but more of a I’m-a-boy; you’re-a-girl; life is good.
Use your safe word if you get scared, honey.” “I’m fine.” Her voice came out husky. “Yes, you are, aren’t you?
It was another of the essential ingredients that she felt her son needed: people with a goal. Such people would be easy to imbue with fervor and fanaticism. They could be wielded like a sword to win back Paul’s place for him.
She was like some kind of Energizer Bunny nonstop bitch machine...She needed three more husbands, so we could all take shifts listening to her.
You wanted us all back together again!" Bonnie shouted at Caroline, and pulled the scandalized girl into the dance. Meredith, her dignity forgotten, joined them too. And for a long time in the clearing there was only rejoicing.
Everyone's pain is relative. We've learned how to deal with grief, because we've had to. But Bree hasn't. And our grief was shared, because we all felt it at the same time. She had to deal with hers alone.
There's a moment in every woman's life when she knows that for once, she stood on her own two feet, faced the world, and flipped it off. I just had that moment, and it feels fucking awsome.
I lean down so that my face is right in front of hers and whisper, ‘He doesn’t love you. I love you.
