D D Willow Quotes & Sayings

That's not what he meant," Rachel says again, pink flushing her cheeks.
"Actually, I meant-" I start to say, but Willow cuts me off.
"What? It's true. He looks at you like he'd like to dip you in sugar and eat you up. — C.J. Redwine

Wow," she said weakly. "That's even more amazing than I thought it would be."
Alex's arms were still looped around her waist; it took a serious effort not to draw her back to him and start kissing her again. He managed to control himself and grinned. "You mean with me or just in general?"
"In general," she said. "But I have a feeling it's especially amazing with you." She leaned back in his arms, studying him. Shaking her head with a slight smile, she reached out and stroked the line of his cheekbone. "Do you even realize how gorgeous you are?"
What he realized was that he was happier than he'd ever been. He gazed at Willow, drinking in her face, feeling amazed that this was happening
that she was here with him and that she actually felt the same way.
"Come here," he said softly. And pulling her toward him, he simply held her, cradling her against his chest. — L.A. Weatherly

I knew that he was mine when we talked for hours one night. I snuck out of the house to meet him. God, my daddy would have skinned him alive. But all we did was talk, hour after hour, under a willow tree. He was just a boy, but I knew I'd love him all of my life. And I have. I knew because we sat there, almost till dawn, and he made me laugh, and made me think and dream and tremble. — Nora Roberts

Alex took a silent step closer to the kitchen door and watched unseen as willow spooned instant coffee into a pair of mugs.With another yawn, she scraped her hair off her face and stretched. She looked so entirely human, so drowsy and sleep-rumpled.For a moment, Alex just gazed at her, taking in her long tumble of hair, her wide green eyes and pixieish chin. Fleetingly, he imagined her eyes meeting his, wondering what she'd look like if she smiled — L.A. Weatherly

As a child I'd longed for Thomas Stone or at least the idea of him. So many mornings I waited for him at the gates of Missing. I saw that vigil now as necessary, a prerequisite for my insides to harden and cure just like the willow of a cricket bat must cure to be ready for a lifetime of knocks. That was the lesson at Missing's gates: the world does not owe you and neither does your father. — Abraham Verghese

And I was next to a boy I'd started thinking of as more than a stranger, more than a friend. He was somewhere in between my future and my present, I just didn't have a word for him yet. Other than safe.
He was my safety.
He was what made me feel protected. — Rachel Higginson

Willow: (on her Halloween costume): I'm Joan of Arc. I figured we had a lot in common, seeing as how I was almost burned at the stake. And plus she had that close relationship with God. Xander: [to Oz] And you are ... ? [Oz shows a name tag that says 'GOD'] Xander: Of course. Wish I'd thought of that before I put down my deposit. I could've been God. Oz: Blasphemer. — Joss Whedon

What is this place?" Now that they'd stopped, his body registered violent objection to the abuse of a mile's walk down the mountain. Hell. To pay. Pandelion whined.
"Home," replied Miss Willow.
He held out his hand for the key.
She sighed. "You're a very managing sort."
"I am a man, Miss Willow."
"I dislike being managed."
"Alas," said Sebastian. — Carolyn Jewel

The censors don't bother with fantasy books, especially old ones. They can't understand them. They think it's all kids' stuff. They'd die if they knew what The Chronicles of Narnia were really about. — G. Willow Wilson

When have I ever suggested you burn them? I am allowed to have opinions, aren't I? And I don't hate them - I don't give a fig about them. The only reason I cared is because you were so comfortable belittling me for believing things you only read about. I was afraid you'd turn into one of those literary types who say books can change the world when they're feeling good about themselves and it's only a book when anybody challenges them. It wasn't about the books themselves - it was about hypocrisy. You can speak casually about burning the Alf Yeom for the same reason you'd be horrified if I suggested burning The Satanic Verses - because you have reactions, not convictions. — G. Willow Wilson

There is a willow grows aslant the brook that shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; therewith fantastic garlands did she make of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples that the liberal shepherds give a grosser name, but our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them. There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke; when down her weedy trophies and herself fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide and, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up; which time she chanted snatches of old lauds, as one incapable of her own distress, or like a creature native and indued unto that element; but long it could not be till that her garments, heavy with their drink, pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay to muddy death. — William Shakespeare

I circled among the narrow, San Franciscan streets of Mt. Adams until night fell, then dropped down St. Martin's to Paradrome and up to Ida, where I parked beneath an arching willow some three houses down from Tray Leach's home. I'd bought five styrofoam cups full of coffee at a little grocery on St. Regis, and, as I sat there watching the western sky go purple and then deep blue, I flipped the plastic lid off one of them. It was bad, bitter coffee. But I was feeling numb and disoriented after Cornell Street and I had to keep alert all night long. — Jonathan Valin

He had visited his family the evening before, eaten dinner with Renee and Chris, his grandson, in the pretence that everything was ordinary, but in fact to service his end-game ruse. He was going over the mountains, he'd said, to hunt for quail in willow canyons, he had no particular canyons in mind, he intended to return on Thursday evening, though possibly, if the hunting was good, he would return on Friday or Saturday. The lie was open-ended so that his family wouldn't start worrying until he'd been dead for as long as a week - so none would miss or seek him where he rotted silently in the sage. Ben imagined how it might be otherwise, his cancer a pestilent force in their lives, or a pall descending over them like ice, just as they'd begun to emerge from the pall of Rachel's death. The last thing they needed was for Ben to tell hem of his terminal colon cancer. — David Guterson

A time, a space, a different place/ How perfect we might be/ I would be the wind that blows/ You'd be that Willow tree/ And I could never bare the thought of you not by my side/ So I would be the warmth of day/ You'd be the cool of night — Stephen Marley

How did you find me?" He stared for a moment, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. He probably realized I was trying to derail that conversation. "I have ways of staying informed." His tone was serious and self-important, as though he had gone to some extreme measure to track me down. All he'd had to do was check my Facebook page. I'd checked in with Kimberly. — Willow Summers

As she entered the room, she halted abruptly. "Oh, my," she murmured. Somehow she'd managed to forget there were three men in her home, so
consumed had she been with thoughts of Grimm. They gathered near the fire, while several maids cleared dozens
of platters and dishes from the massive table centered in the Greathall. Yesterday, safe behind the balustrade, Jillian had been struck by how tall and broad the three of them were. Today, standing only a few feet from them, she felt like a dwarf willow in a forest of mighty oaks. Each man stood at least a foot taller than she did. It was downright intimidating to a woman who was not easily intimidated. — Karen Marie Moning

parents, bystanders. Didn't matter as long as she hit the number. "That's what you spawned, Mackie. I figure maybe she was born wrong. Maybe she had that twist in her right from the jump. But you nurtured it. You stoked it, educated it, brought it along. She had choices, sure, but you made the choices she made easy for her. You made them righteous." She felt nothing for him when he began to weep. Nothing. "I want you to think about that for the rest of your life." When she walked away, his sobs echoed as Willow's curses had. — J.D. Robb

I rewrapped the scarf around my neck, and thought about how excited Jake had been that first winter he was here. Maybe it was just as simple as this: that he'd been up here enough to know that there wasn't anything special about Willow Hill. Including me. — Claire Ray

The tide will turn, Miss Willow." A smile lurked around his mouth, but no, that was not possible, that the earl of Tiern-Cope should smile, and at her.
"It hasn't yet."
"You may find the sea casts you onto the shores of paradise." His voice was low and soft, and Olivia felt her heart stir at the sound. "Or through the very gates of hell."
"So it might." She gave herself a mental shake. Lord Tiern-Cope could not possibly be flirting with her. Impossible. "But that won't stop me from embracing this moment in all its beautiful perfection."
"With but one flaw, Miss Willow."
"Whatever could that be?"
"Don't even try to tell me I don't spoil the present perfection of your moment." The corner of his lip twitched and then gave up. He smiled, and she, perverse creature that she was, felt like she'd been tossed off a cliff with him standing at the bottom to catch her. — Carolyn Jewel

Willow, you know that you said you couldn't tell how I felt at the rest stop?"
I nodded, and he took my hand, laying it flat on his chest with his own resting over it. "Can you tell now?" he asked.
His heart beat firmly under my hand; my own pulse was pounding so hard that I could barely think straight. Closing my eyes, I took a deep, steadying breath, and then another as I tried to clear my mind, to feel what he was feeling. For a moment there was just the softness of our breathing
then all at once it washed over me in a great wave.
He was in love with me, too.
I opened my eyes. Alex was still holding my hand to his chest, watching me, his expression more serious than I'd ever seen it. Unable to speak, I slowly dropped my hand and wrapped my arms around him. His own arms came around me as he rested his head on my hair.
"I really do, you know," he said, his voice rough.
"I know," I whispered back. "I do, too. — L.A. Weatherly

Lorenzo: In such a night stood Dido with a willow in her hand upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love to come again to Carthage
Jessica: In such a night Medea gathered the enchanted herbs that did renew old Aeson.
Lorenzo: In such a night did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew, and with an unthrift love did run from Venice, as far as Belmont.
Jessica: In such a night did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well, stealing her soul with many vows of faith, and ne'er a true one.
Lorenzo: In such a night did pretty Jessica (like a little shrow) slander her love, and he forgave it her.
Jessica: I would out-night you, did nobody come; but hark, I hear the footing of a man. — William Shakespeare

and go for a quick walk. Maybe she'd even run into the model-gorgeous elf-type who'd nursed her back to health. One could — Willow Nonea Rae

Finally, only her and Benji and the solitude she craved. But with solitude came feelings. Anger. Hovering between life and death. Wanting one, then the other. Hating Michael. Grieving for him because she'd loved him so. But most of all grieving for Willow until the pain became so great that she welcomed the numbness back as if a long-lost lover. — Dominique Wilson

You know that half the girls in school would have been after you."
He gave a soft laugh. "If they were into someone who was flunking out ... I don't think I'd do too well with having to go to class when a bell rings or caring about homework ... "
"A bad boy
even better. You'd have done well in Spanish class."
"If I ever went to it."
We lay in silence for a awhile; Alex's arms felt so warm and safe that I was starting to get sleepy. "Say something in Spanish," I mumbled.
He kissed my hair. "Te amo, Willow," he said quietly.
I came awake, smiling into the darkness. "What does that mean?" I whispered.
I could almost hear his own smile. "What do you think it means?"
I hugged him, kissing his collarbone and wondering if it was possible to actually die of happiness. "Te amo, Alex. — L.A. Weatherly

The ring-dove sang from the willow spray, Well-a-day! Well-a-day! He mourn'd for the fate of his darling mate, Well-a-day! — Jacob Grimm

I was afraid you'd turn into one of those literary types who say books can change the world when they're feeling good about themselves and it's only a book when anybody challenges them. — G. Willow Wilson

I like the idea of you on an island..."
"Oh...why's that?" She's squinting up at me, her eyes brighter than the sea in the setting sun.
"I could keep you all to myself. You'd be trapped, only able to come and go as I please...I'd be your Caesar..."
She laughs and reaches her hand out to me, "Don't you already have that power...without need of a sea? — Willow Madison

How are you feeling, Willow?" Ember asked. "Like I swallowed a baby elephant," she said deadpan. "I don't know how I'm going to get through the next two months." Shannon snorted and Willow gave her a look with a raised eyebrow. "Just you wait, little girl. You're going to have two baby elephants dancing on your bladder soon." Shannon groaned. "You're cursing me," she moaned. She'd — J.M. Madden

It was better than Harry had expected. As for Dumbledore's writing to the Dursleys, that was nothing. Harry knew perfectly well they'd just be disappointed that the Whomping Willow hadn't squashed him flat. — J.K. Rowling

I spent my childhood outdoors on my grandparents' farm. I learned to ride a motorbike when I was about six, a little PeeWee 50. I'd climb trees - there was a big weeping willow. — Miranda Kerr

I think all these pop cultural media often reflect conversations we're having in the real world at that moment in time. I think one of the big conversations we're having as a culture is we thought we'd solved sexism and racism, and we're realizing more and more that we haven't. — G. Willow Wilson

Willow was very relaxed company, easy to talk to when either of them felt like talking or just as happy to stay quiet, lost in her own thoughts as they climbed. Glancing at her profile as they sat on a boulder looking out at the view, it suddenly struck Alex that he'd never felt so comfortable with anyone in his life. It felt as if he'd known Willow always. No. It felt like she was a part of him. — L.A. Weatherly

waif. They would hear his reedy voice, the one he'd had in the war. He swallowed, knew that all he had for a voice box was a little whistle cut from a willow switch. Worse - he had nothing to say. The crowd — Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

We'd already talked in the stacks, and I knew you were different from any other girl I'd met. And you told me that your parents were dead, and I thought that you were so ... lost and vulnerable. So when I saw you in the physics lab ... and I saw you try and take care of someone that you thought who had been through what you'd been through; could be that ... well, generous, and thoughtfull ... " Guy said.
"But you hardly knew me." said Willow
"I know ... I didn't know that we'd even talk again, or that if we did, if we'd get along, or maybe you were seeing someone else ... I just knew that the way you tried to protect someone's life that, especially given your situation ... I just ... I though that you had to be the most special girl I would ever meet ... — Julia Hoban

Stand and yield," she called out, her voice far steadier than her hands.
"For I cannot allow you to pass." Bannor's crooked grin was somehow more intimidating than a snarl.
'Twould have been far easier to despise him if he'd been cursed with horns and a tail instead of twinkling blue eyes and a dimple in his jaw.
"What would you have me yield, my lady? My sword or my heart?"
-willow&bannor- — Teresa Medeiros

He offered me his free hand, clear blue eyes sparkling. "Come on ... let's go find ourselves the perfect tree."
I took his hand and leaned into his shoulder. Didn't he know I'd go anywhere with him? — S.R. Grey

If you were looking for a sign from heaven, baby, I'd say they're all around you. Take note. — Willow Aster

I saved him a piece. Okay, a small piece. But I felt better after eating the cake and if he cared for me as much as he said he did, he'd want me to have it. So I ate his piece, too. — Celia Jerome

Look at all the Eastern writers who've written great Western literature. Kazuo Ishiguro. You'd never guess that The Remains of the Day or Never Let Me Go were written by a Japanese guy. But I can't think of anyone who's ever done the reverse
any Westerner who's written great Eastern literature. Well, maybe if we count Lawrence Durrell - does the Alexandria Quartet qualify as Eastern literature?"
"There is a very simple test," said Vikram. "Is it about bored, tired people having sex?"
"Yes," said the convert, surprised.
"Then it's western. — G. Willow Wilson

I reach up and pat them both on the head. Poor things. If you had a boy that looked like Logan, you'd be kissing him every chance you had, too. — C.J. Redwine

The poor soul sat singing by a sycamore tree. Sing all a green willow:
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow:
The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans; Sing willow, willow, willow; Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones; Lay by these: Sing willow, willow, willow;
Prithee, hie thee; he'll come anon. — William Shakespeare

I remember all the things we said we'd do
And how not a single thing we said was true — Jessica-Lynn Barbour

A woman's hand, your hand in its starry paleness only to help you walk downstairs, refracts its beam into my own. Its slightest touch branches out inside me and in a moment will trace above us those delicate canopies where the inverted sky stirs its blue leaves with misty aspen or willow. As for me, to what do I actually owe this remission of a pain that so many others suffer because of less guilt than I feel today? Before I met you I'd known misfortune, despair. Before I met you, come on, those words mean nothing. You know very well that when I first laid eyes on you I recognized you without the slightest hesitation. And from what borders did you come, so fearfully protected against everyone, what initiation to which no one or almost no one was admitted has consecrated what you are. — Andre Breton

It were a blessed sight to see That child become a willow tree, His brother trees among. He'd be four times as tall as me, And live three times as long. — Catherine Maria Fanshawe

And I was right to be ... to become a cutter, because maybe you think this doesn't look so bad, that girls cry, that people cry, but you'd be wrong, you'd be so wrong, anything ... anything at all ... would feel better than this does. I'm ... sorry." She tries to catch her breath. "I'm sorry to be putting you through this ... "
"Willow, you haven't put me through anything. — Julia Hoban

To me, a staircase looks like a series of dark and light horizontal stripes, which is exactly how you'd draw a staircase. So I know how the image is going to look on the page. — G. Willow Wilson