It just made me realize that I wouldn’t have anything if you left,” he said miserably. Jake gave a pained wince and looked down at the floor. “I wouldn’t have anything if I left, either,” he murmured.
Why, God? You made man in your own image. Why then do so many lack good sense? And why is that we are so easily drawn to hate and kill each other? Why, God?
I first got very thin after Ashley. I felt like my stomach was doing backflips - like my emotions had taken over and made me full.
Rough love. Hard, edgy love. Love that made you bleed. Love hard to find, the kind of love you fought to keep.
No one has ever made me feel like this, no one. So much regret, so much loss, and so much desire all swirled together in my muddled brain. In my muddled heart.
It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.
One thing I have learned is that the people who label you are usually the ones who know the least about who you really are and they have never made the effort to learn different.
His view of war - and he had seen a great deal of it - was that a general made as many blunders as he fought battles, but, by the grace of the gods, the opposing generals' blunders were sometimes worse.
Wherever a choice has had to be made between the man of reason and the madman, the world has unhesitatingly followed the madman. For the madman appeals to what is fundamental, to passion and the instincts; the philosophers to what is superficial and ...
I never lose sight of the whole. An impeccable dress is made to be lived in, to be torn, wet, stained, crumpled.
Embrace the power of little things and you will build a tower of mighty things. Mighty things are made up varieties of little things put together!
I should be an affected women, if I made any pretence of being surprised by my son's inspiring such emotions; but I can't be indifferent to anyone who is so sensible on his merits
She had not made a decision to give up sex, only the clamor of romance, because it was exhausting her, doing her no good and too much harm...
By the Lord, Reule better bed that Wench soon! Mara is going to start thinking her p***y is made of gold if I keep frequenting her bed like this! -Rye "Drink of Me
His eyes twinkled mischievously as he gazed at me with that look that always made me melt: as if I were edible and he could barely restrain himself from taking a bite.
Now I'm a warrior Now i've got thicker skin I'm a warrior I'm stronger than i've ever been And my amor Is made of steel you can't get in i'm a warrior And you can never hurt me again
Eventually sinking into despair, [Heinrich von Kleist] shot himself in 1811 as part of a suicide pact made with a woman suffering from incurable cancer.
Every morning, whether I've slept or not, whether I've made it through the day without crying or given in and sobbed in the shower, where no one can hear me― the sun comes up, and I make my choice.
He made a sound close to a growl before speaking. “Why do you resist my assistance?” She stopped walking and faced him. “Because I don't like you.
He didn't understand how sadness came so easily to people. For him it was like a pile of rocks that had to be moved one at a time. Just thinking about it made him tired.
I’d always be watching her. And she knew now that she belonged to me. Every breath she took, every step she made, every smile she faked, I’d always be there, watching her, waiting for her.
