Doesn't Love Me Back Quotes & Sayings

Love and this close-knit family structure really helped to give me the confidence. To know that you have family to go back to is a help. It doesn't always happen biologically. Sometimes God gives you family in other forms, but I was very blessed. I have a very strong biological family. — Lauryn Hill

Chaz looks me dead in the eye and says, 'Why yes, Lizzie. I'm manically depressed because the girl I've finally realized I've always been in love with, and who I was beginning to think just might love me back, turned around and got herself engaged to my best friend, who, frankly, doesn't deserve her. Does that answer your question? — Meg Cabot

I'm not really interested in the audience's enjoyment,' Cave mumbles once he has changed into clean pants. 'It doesn't bother me one way or another. I just don't give a shit. People feel more and more disappointed with each concert because less and less happens. It's really easy to suck an audience in. Like, I can wiggle my bum and back-flip on my head and they love it. I could make an audience love me until the end of my days. There's just no point in it any more. I wish they'd just ... die. — Antonella Gambotto-Burke

And maybe love is terrifying. I'm terrified now, but not in the way she would think.
I'm terrified because I hate who she is and what she's done, I do, and yet there is still something strong and powerful between us, some kind of deep, primal bond that won't end, won't snap or break or change, it just remains there inside me, as sold and factual as my blood and bones - she is my mother, I am her daughter - and I don't know what to call it because it doesn't feel like love, not the good kind I felt for Ellie, with all my heart, but instead an instinctual pull that's been there from the beginning, drawing me back to her again and again, the woman who has hurt me like no one else ever could, and now she's dying and the bond is still here, inside me, and I won't call it love or hate because emotions has nothing to do with the fact that she is my mother and I am her daughter, and we will be connected in that way forever. — Laura Wiess

I'm here because of the way she loves me with no reservations. She doesn't hold anything back, but gives it all to me as if there was no one else like me in the universe. She has no idea that she alone is the unique being. — Amy A. Bartol

It's the same as when I broke the melding bond. Our love doesn't trump the millions of people in the seven worlds. We must think of the greater good."
He pulled back from me and before I could blink he held my chin in his gentle grip. "And I will tell you again, Abigail, that nothing trumps our love. Nothing. — Jaymin Eve

Soon after they went back, Jules said to Jim: 'I love Magda. But it's a habit; it's not a great Love, not the real thing. To me, she's like a young mother and an attentive daughter, both at once.' 'But that's fine!' 'It's not the love I've always dreamed of having.' 'Does that kind of love exist?' said Jim. 'Of course! My love for Lucie.' Jim checked himself from saying, 'Because you do not possess her.' 'Besides,' Jules went on, 'knowing myself as I do, I shall never be able to forgive any woman for loving me. To love me is a sign of perversion or compromise -- and Lucie doesn't suffer from either. There's not a particle of me that she accepts.' 'With her, any man could think that.' 'Yes, could...' said Jules 'But I do.' 'Oh well,' said Jim, 'it's heroic and one can't help respecting it. It's a bit like martyrdom. And it's the key to your Life. If Lucie loved you...' 'She wouldn't be Lucie.' said Jules. — Henri-Pierre Roche

Ranger cradled my face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from my eyes. "The ceremony is over. Can you make it back to the car?"
I nodded. "I'm okay now. Am I red and blotchy from crying?"
"Yes," Ranger said, brushing a kiss across my forehead. "I love you anyway."
"There's all kinds of love," I said.
Ranger took me by the hand and led me back to the SUV. "This is the kind that doesn't call for a ring. But a condom might come in handy."
"That's not love," I told him. "That's lust. — Janet Evanovich

Nonfiction brought me back to earth and sobered me up whenever it seemed like I'd become too drunk on the lives and loves of imaginary people, but that doesn't mean it was any less thrilling or transporting, although it was often more illuminating. — Laura Miller

No, stupid. Because he's in love with me, and he tries to pretend every day like he doesn't want to have anything to do with me, I shot back. — Amy Harmon

It doesn't matter if I get my memories back or not," Simon said. "It doesn't matter if another demon gives me amnesia tomorrow. I know you: You'll come find me again, you'll come rescue me no matter what happens. You'll come for me, and I'll discover you all over again. I love you. I love you without the memories. I love you right now."
Isabelle said in a calm voice: "I know."
Simon stared at her. "Was that ... ," he said slowly. "Was that a Star Wars reference? Because if it was, I would like to declare my love all over again."
"Go on, then," said Isabelle. "I mean it. Say it again. I've been waiting awhile."
"I love you," said Simon. — Cassandra Clare

Hands grab me, steady me. I jerk back, but they are surprisingly gentle. He doesn't smile as I turn to see his face. He just stands there, letting me inspect him. He's tall with a wide forehead and dark blond hair that's cut short. His green eyes are deeply set beneath that forehead. His lips are wide and rugged like the rest of him. His hands have huge knuckles like he's a boxer or arthritic or hits walls. He looks like he did when he pulled me out of the car, but stronger, taller somehow. He must be completely healed. He looks my age and he looks good, like the guy in high school that everyone, even the teachers, fall in love with. — Carrie Jones

Oh, poor baby," she said, mimicking his drawl.
"Whew. You're back. There was this other Susie here a minute ago, and she was really nice to me. She scared the shit out of me."
She laughed. "They locked her back up in the loony bin."
"Good, because there's only one Susie for me - the one who calls me on my crap and doesn't let me get away with jack shit. That's the Susie I need. That's the Susie I've missed coming home to over the last year." He kissed her. "And that's the Susie who's going to leave a gaping hole in my heart and my life if she doesn't give me another chance. — Marie Force

For the first time in my life as a flirt - as something more than just a girl - I found the words. They didn't simply appear. I reasoned them out. I spoke them. Because they were true, and I didn't need anything more than that. "She doesn't deserve you," I said, and before he could dispute it, I continued. "She takes and takes and takes, but she doesn't take the right things. And she doesn't give the right things back. You're going away now. You don't need her. You probably never needed her. She's going to make it hell for you, but it's over. You know that. Free yourself."
He looked at me like I was some kind of oracle. In the best of all worlds, it would've been a look of love, an understanding that I was the one, I was it. But it wasn't that. Instead it was something almost as sweet - that mix of recognition and appreciation. That gift of worth. — David Levithan

A lot of these love notes seem to be from well-read and lovesick young men with literary aspirations. That type doesn't interest me in the least. They say they only have eyes for gazing at you and then end up gazing right back at their navels. — Kathleen Rooney

That it doesn't matter why I ran," he said, staring at me without blinking, "because I came back. I'll always come back, Luce. No matter how many rip-roaring fights we have and no matter how many miscommunications we have. I'll always come back because you're where I belong. — Nicole Williams

At one point, trying to explain her unhappiness, Sanna was to say to Miss Love, "I read some psychology books in college. Everything that's supposed to warp a child happened to me." Miss Love, who had been raped as an adolescent, replies, "Everything that could warp a child happened to me, too. But understanding that doesn't help. It's interesting but it doesn't help. I figure that what you do with your life now is all that counts. I try not to look back. — Olive Ann Burns

You said you're done with me, and I accept that. I'm a different person since I met you. I've changed ... for the better. But no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to do right by you. We were friends first, Pigeon. I will always love you, but if I can't make you happy, it doesn't make much sense for me to try to get you back. I can't imagine being with anyone else, but I'll be happy as long as we're friends.
"You want to be friends?" I asked, the words burning in my mouth.
"I want you to be happy. Whatever that takes. — Jamie McGuire

Following Jesus doesn't mean believing outdated creeds or literal understandings of scripture or turning my back on science. I respect my childhood church. But God is so much bigger. I believe God is alive and as real as my next breath. God wants me to grow and explore new ideas. Now I realize that faith is a journey and not a destination, and God is with me with in all my questions and doubts. God's love includes everyone, including people who ask questions and have doubts! — Bruce G. Epperly

didn't get it back then. I thought . . . I thought choosing him meant you didn't love me. I thought because we didn't work out, it meant we were a failure or a mistake. But I understand it now. Because I love her. I love her so much I can't see straight. But it doesn't change how I felt about you or how thankful I am to have loved you once. It's just . . ." "I'm the past. And she's the present." "Yeah," he says, relieved that I've put it into words for him, that he doesn't have to try to find them himself. "That's exactly it." I — Taylor Jenkins Reid

To be fair, you can tell me what you think of me," Max offered. "I didn't mean to offend you. I was just making a few observations."
"How could I possibly know enough about you to make a proper judgment?" His tone was harsher than he'd anticipated. "You've taken a stranger into your home without so much as a second thought and offered everything but your bed. Crazy comes to mind. Suicidal maybe."
Max leaned forward in her chair, readying her defenses. "Excuse me?"
"I don't mean to sound ungrateful here but please remember that you don't know me. I appreciate all that you've done but that doesn't entitle you to judge me."
"I wasn't judging you," she bit back. "But maybe you're right. I don't think I thought this through at all. — Shawn Kirsten Maravel

I sit down next to him, and he pulls me to his side. Then he lies down so that I'm draped across him. My hip is tucked between him and the back of the couch. "I don't want to go home yet," he says quietly. He pulls my head down to his chest, and I press my face against it. His hand settles on the back of my head, and he starts to stroke down the length of my hair. "Then don't go," I say quietly. He doesn't. He just threads his fingers into my hair and drags them down my back, over and over, until my eyelids grow heavy and I fall asleep on his chest. I wake up the next morning tucked into my own bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. I sit up and look around. Beside me on the pillow is a note. I open it up and read. Are you in love with me yet? — Tammy Falkner

Getting over it doesn't mean forgetting it, it just means reducing the pain to a tolerable level, a level that doesn't destroy you. I know that right now the idea of getting over it is unimaginable. It's impossible, inconceivable, unthinkable. You don't want to get over it. Why should you? It's all you've got. You don't want kind words, you don't care what other people think or say, you don't want to know how they felt when they lost someone, They're no you, are there! They can't feel what you feel. The only thing you want is the things you can't have. It's gone. Never coming back. No one know how that feels. No one know what it's like to reach out and touch someone who isn't there and will never be there again. No one knows the unifiable emptiness. No one but you. You and me, love. We don't want anything. We want to die, but life won't let us. We're all it's got. — Kevin Brooks

I love you, Ink, and I want you-only you. Being strong doesn't mean I don't want you too. You are the only person who knows every part of my life, every part of me in it, the good and the bad and the horrible, and you still love me. You are always with me, even when you're not there. And when you're not there, I can feel it, like an empty space where you ought to be, and I can hardly wait until you're back to fill it again. Neither world feels like it fits, but we belong. — Dawn Metcalf

The world is composed of people who are hungry, and those who are not hungry. It goes back to energy, to entropy. If you are hungry for food, you will be hungry for God, too. Or politics, or some kind of love. The people who are hungry have holes in them that can't be filled. Don't get me wrong. I've seen starving people at peace with the world. I've been in villages where starving people gave me their supper. Food doesn't have anything to do with it; it's about the deeper kind of hunger, those holes. — Nickolas Butler

Only after the words were spoken did she realize what she had said. "My sins are all your fault, Brodick, and if I have to go to purgatory, then by God, you're going with me. Ramsey, if you do not stop laughing,I swear I shall toss you over this cliff."
"Do you love him, lass?" Father asked.
"I do not," she answered emphatically.
"It isn't a requirement," Laggan pointed out.
"I should hope not," she cried.
"But it would make your life easier," he countered.
"Gillian, you will tell the truth," Brodick demanded.
He grabbed hold of her hand. She tried to pull back, but he wouldn't let go.
"I have told the truth. I don't love Ramsey, and if he doesn't stop laughing at me, the Sinclairs will soon be looking for a new laird."
"Not Ramsey," Laggan shouted so he could be heard over Ramsey's laughter. "I'm asking you if you love Brodick."
"Did you tell Father I love you? Who else did you tell? — Julie Garwood

He doesn't know who he's making love to, I would think, and panic would slash through me until I reminded myself that it was over now, a freakish aberration not to be repeated. It was Hansen who first made me aware of shadow selves. He would lie in bed watching me for whole minutes, and I would look back into his eyes and wonder, What does he see? How can he not see the truth? Where is it hidden? It made me ask, when I looked at other people, what possible selves they were hiding behind the strange rubber masks of their faces. I could nearly always find one, if I watched for long enough. It became the only one I was interested in seeing. — Jennifer Egan

I love sitting back and taking a look behind, just to see how far I've come. To view how things have unfolded by one simple move I made almost 18yrs ago. If I shall succeed in my dream to further this that I have started, then I shall not stop until I reach the end. But then I stand only to wonder? Why should I give up at all in trying to pursue a dream that quite frankly could be the making of something amazing, something that most likely, if should fail, will place me right in the path of something else. So I shan't give up, because I have come this far and because I know, in my heart, that it's landing me somewhere truely amazing, and I'm excited to see where it goes. Faith doesn't always start in Religion, it starts inside you. And if you have enough of it in yourself, then who's to say what you can accomplish. — Ellie Williams

Rakitin doesn't understand it, all he wants is to build his house and rent out rooms ... Life is simple for Rakitin: 'You'd do better to worry about extending mans civil rights,' he told me today, 'or at least about not letting the price of beef go up; you'd render your love for mankind more simply and directly that way than with any philosophies.' But I came back at him: 'And without God,' I said, 'you'll hike up the price of beef yourself, if the chance comes your way, and make a rouble on every kopeck. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

What else can you tell me?" Dad stares at me. "What have you learned while you were awake?"
I learned that life is so, so fragile. I learned that you can know someone for just days and never forget the impression he left on you. I learned that art can be beautiful and sad at the same time. I learned that if someone loves you, he'll wait for you to love him back. I learned that how much you want something doesn't determine whether you get it or not, that "no" might not be enough, that life isn't fair, that my parents can't save me, that maybe no one can. "Nothing much," I mutter. — Beth Revis

Does one mistake, no matter how horrific it is, override years of love and support? Replace the myriad of ways he protected me and eliminate how far he was prepared to go to keep me safe? When I told him I loved him in that previous lifetime, was it so flimsy that I'd turn my back on him when he needs me the most? I don't need anyone else to answer those questions for me.
I know it doesn't.
I may not love him in the same way, but I will not abandon him.
I will not give up on him. — Siobhan Davis

I crumple onto the lounger and cry again even though I didn't think I had any tears left. And then Dante is next to me, with his wet arms around me and he's whispering in my ear.
And the huskiness of his voice.
The smell of his wet skin.
The beating of his heart against my hand.
All of it.
I don't want to be without him.
Maybe he's right. Maybe love is all that matters. And we can get through our differences. We can get through anything.
And then he's kissing me.
And I'm letting him.
And I'm kissing him back.
Because I love him and he loves me and Elena Kontou doesn't matter.
Dante's hands are all over me, warm and strong and I lean into him, into his warmth, his strength. It's still raining, but we are kissing in the rain and it's sexy as hell. In fact, I think I'll kiss in the rain forever. For the rest of my life. Because it's just that sexy. — Courtney Cole

He reacted like I slapped him, and I hated hurting him, but I knew he needed to know. "He doesn't deserve it. He can have any girl in the world's love, and he took yours. Someone who deserves so much more than a summer fling." He stood and started to walk away, but stopped and glanced back at me. "If you were mine, I would never let you go." He left the kitchen. — Abbi Glines

It's very simple: I want his love. I need Christian Grey to love me. This is why I am so reticent about our relationship
because on some basic, fundamental level, I recognize within me a deep-seated compulsion to be loved and cherished. And because of his fifty shades, I am holding myself back. The BDSM is a distraction from the real issue. The sex is amazing, he's wealthy, he's beautiful, but this is all meaningless without his love, and the real heart-fail is that I don't know if he's capable of love. He doesn't even love himself. I recall his self-loathing, her love being the only form he found acceptable. Punished
whipped, beaten, whatever their relationship entailed
he feels undeserving of love. Why does he feel like that? How can he feel like that? His words haunt me: It's very hard to grow up in a perfect family when you're not perfect. I close my eyes, imagining his pain, and I can't begin to comprehend it. — E.L. James

When person A loves person B," he began, "person A gets upset at the thought of never seeing person B again."
He meant me.
He meant he loved me.
But now I knew that love was a poisonous thing. It had turned me into a murderer. I would die with my secret before I would tell.
"It's better that way," I lied, "because person B doesn't love person A back. — Cherie Bennett

The clothes I wear ... that doesn't change. I love long dresses. I love velvet. I love high boots. I never change. I love the same eye make-up. I'm not a fad person. I still have everything I had then. That's one part of me ... that's where my songs come from. There's a song on the new Fleetwood Mac album [Mirage] that says, 'Going back to the velvet underground/back to the floor that I love,' because I always put my bed on the floor. 'To a room with some lace and paper flowers/ back to the gypsy that I was.' — Stevie Nicks

I believe I am becoming pathetic. I'll go further, I believe that I am in love with a flower-growing, wood-carving quarryman/carpenter/pig farmer. In fact, I know I am. Perhaps tomorrow I will become entirely miserable at the thought that he doesn't love me back - may, even, care for Remy- but at this precise moment I am succumbing to euphoria. My head and stomach feel quite odd. — Mary Ann Shaffer

We sit in an awkward silence for a few minutes before she speaks. "You're right. There's more to it." I'm not sure if I should wait and let her speak, or if she's waiting for an acknowledgement. I slowly turn my head toward her and settle my eyes on hers. "I went through a rough time a few years ago. I wasn't sure things would get better for me. One day, Rick and Jo were able to knock some sense into me. When a Phoenix dies, it rises from its ashes to have a new life." Her eyes leave mine as she rolls to her back and stares at the stars. "The tattoo reminds me of that. One chapter of my life may end, but that doesn't mean a new chapter won't come from the ashes. It probably sounds silly to you. — Rein Scott

I promise I'll never tell."
"Don't promise that," he said in an ultraserious voice. "If they try to hurt you and the only way to protect yourself is to tell them what you know about me, then you tell them. Straight off, okay?"
"No."
"Promise me."
"No!"
"I will possess your heart."
Heat flared along the back of my neck. "What did you say?"
"My favorite song. 'I Will Possess Your Heart.'"
"By Death Cab for Cutie?"
He snorted. "No, the little known T.I. Hip-hop remix. Yes, Death Cab for Cutie."
... "Why? What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing, but it doesn't seem to fit you. It's kind of a sad song."
"No it's pure confident. It's not 'I want' or 'I need', none of that crap." He slipped his hand over mine. "It's 'I will.'"
A nervous laugh bubbled up. "You will, huh?"
His fingers brushed my cheek, then slid into my hair. "I will. — Jeri Smith-Ready

Dear Mia,
What can I say? I don't know all that much about romance novels, but I think you must be the Stephen King of the genre. Your book is hot. Thanks for letting me read it. Anyone who doesn't want to publish it is a fool.
Anyway, since I know it's your birthday, and I also know you never remember to back anything up, here's a little something I made for you. It would be a shame if Ransom My Heart got lost before it ever saw the light of day because your hard drive crashed. See you tonight.
Love,
Michael — Meg Cabot

And I realized that some things just don't work that way. Life isn't a fairy tail. And the person you fall in love with doesn't always love you back. But that's ok, because at the very least it makes you stronger. And brings you to a place where you can fall in love with yourself. And that to me is more important than finding someone that only makes you complete when they are around, It's really about Finding the person that will teach you ALL the lessons you need to know ...so that you feel complete all by yourself. — Bethany Brookbank

I learned that life is so, so fragile. I learned that you can know someone for just days and never forget the impression he left on you. I learned that art can be beautiful and sad at the same time. I learned that if someone loves you, he'll wait for you to love him back. I learned that how much you want something doesn't determine whether you get it or not, that "no" might not be enough, that life isn't fair, that my parents can't save me, that maybe no one can. — Beth Revis

He blinks. Touches the side of my face, near my eyes. My eyes that are blue now, not green. With oval irises.
"I'm still me," I say, because my greatest fear now is that he doesn't want a hybrid Amy.
He cocks an eyebrow. "You think I care if your eyes are blue or green? I just care about you." His hand slips down my arm, and he wraps his pinky finger around mine.
"You came back to me," I say, my voice breaking over unshead tears of joy.
"I'll always come back to you," he tells me pulling me close.
Always. — Beth Revis

Hey,' he said, touching my waist. 'Hey. It's okay.' I nodded and wiped my face with the back of my hand. 'He sucks.' I nodded again. 'I'll write you an epilogue,' Gus said. That made me cry harder. 'I will,' he said. 'I will. Better than any sh*t that drunk could write. His brain is Swiss cheese. He doesn't even remember writing the book. I can write ten times the story that guy can. There will be blood and guts and sacrifice. An Imperial Affliction meets The Prince of Dawn. You'll love it.' I kept nodding, faking a smile, and then he hugged me, his strong arms pulling me into his muscular chest, and I sogged up his polo shirt a little but then recovered enough to speak. — John Green

Taking in their expressions, I just knew it.
Logan had enlisted them.
The bugger.
"Oh dear God." I let my head fall back as if in supplication to an unmerciful deity. "Why me?"
Joss snorted. "Yeah, doesn't it suck when gorgeous, funny, loyal Scotsmen fall in love with us? — Samantha Young

It doesn't matter where I stand; whether at the front or at the back, in the middle or at the side. As long as I can get on stage and do what I love, that's enough for me. — Kim Hyo-yeon

James, you'd like Lou Reed," Michael insisted. "He was bisexual."
Their laughter turned to coughs. They were all staring at me when I turned around. I told myself to relax.
"Oh, yeah?" I said. "He doesn't sound bisexual."
Michael just shook his head, but Ronan and Glenn smiled.
"They did electroshock therapy on him when he was a teenager," Michael said.
"Electro-what?" said Glenn. "They electrocuted people?"
"Kind of. They zapped their brains to alter their personalities. That's how they tried to make gay people straight back then."
They all looked at me for a response.
I shrugged. "So, he was bisexual? It worked halfway? — Kenneth Logan

If you killl yourself, Comorra, it will wreck him. Utterly. Believe me on this one. So there you go - there's another casualty of war. And sure, in the grand scheme of things, whoop-dee-doo, who gives a crap about some dude's broken heart. But what about the not-so-grand scheme? Doesn't love count for something? Do you think all this ... this carnage would have happened if the Romans hadn't taken Prasutagus away from your mother? If she hadn't been so blinded by grief maybe she would have found a way to work things out with the governor instead of goading him to war." Clare shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe not. Maybe two people alone in the darkness can't generate enough light to drive it back. But maybe they can be a beacon for others. A candle in the window at midnight, you know? I mean, they can at least be there for each other, right? — Lesley Livingston

I shook my head at Janco. "I've got the situation under control. Go back to the Keep, I'll meet you there."
Janco stared at me in astonished silence. Ari, though, trusted me. "Come on, she doesn't need our help." Ari sheathed his sword. Janco recovered. He flashed me one of his mischievous grins. "I'll bet you a copper that she'll be free in five minutes," he said to Ari.
Ari grunted in amusement. "A silver on ten minutes," he countered.
"I'll bet you both a gold coin that she kills him," Valek said
from behind them. They moved aside and he entered, still dressed in his Adviser Ilom disguise. "The only way to take care of your problem. Right, love? — Maria V. Snyder

Every single thing I've done has made me who I am today. The only thing I would take back is hurting the people that I love, and the people who I love have already read my lyrics and heard my apologies. But the rest of the world, I don't need to apologize to them. My life doesn't have anything to do with the rest of the world. — Scott Weiland

I say, "Well then I don't know if it was real,
and that makes me feel like I'm going insane again."
"Absolutely it was real. It was a real, partial picture. Because it ended preemptively, things you would have learned about him in the relationship, you are instead learning in the breakup. You have learned that he has a desperate desire for intimacy
and then a desperate desire for the cave.
He will get lonely there eventually and come back."
"To me?"
He doesn't pause. "To someone new."
"And I'll have to watch another girl?"
"You will have to, but you will also know
what lies ahead for that poor girl. — Emma Forrest

It's my letter," she began. "I cannot make it right."
"Come in, come in," the Prince said gently. "Maybe we can help you." She sat down in the same chair as before. "All right, I'll close my eyes and listen; read to me."
" 'Westley, my passion, my sweet, my only, my own. Come back, come back. I shall kill myself otherwise. Yours in torment, Buttercup.' " She looked at Humperdinck. "Well? Do you think I'm throwing myself at him?"
"It does seem a bit forward," the Prince admitted. "It doesn't leave him a great deal of room to maneuver. — William Goldman

There's nothing.
Nothing to hold on to while the current takes me.
Whatever I might have had until today, I've lost.
I feel my love for her, swelling; bloating into something that's about to explode, like an abscess that's been allowed to rot for too long, but the pain drowns it so completely I know I'm never coming back out. This feeling, that you're choking and that your body is underwater, immersed in the ocean, a dense flood that overpowers your breathing abilities, and your will to survive gets drowned right along with it. And as I'm drowning I see her face and hear her voice - and it doesn't give me hope, it terrifies me. I'm terrified because I know she's going to be the death of me. I'm terrified because I know I won't be able to cope. I'm terrified because the darkness is the only true friend I've ever had and if it wants to embrace me I don't have the power to make it stop. — Kady Hunt

We want the right people, the ones who love to play football. I want a guy who, if I punch him in the mouth, doesn't stand there and say, ?Why did you punch me?' I want the guy who punches me back first, and then asks me why I did it. — Matt Millen

If she has given you children remind yourself every day of the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth words in this sentence. If you hurt her in ways that are irreparable I will send out people to hurt you back, sorry, but it has to be like that. Yes, you may have had a difficult childhood, but please allow me to introduce myself: Hello, I am the woman who doesn't give a shit. Make her something warm to drink in the mornings and give her time to begin speaking; only rush at her with an embrace or a gemstone. Wildflowers. A love note. Yeats. — Mary-Louise Parker

Wait here." I ran back up to my room to grab his blue-and-black plaid flannel shirt, still in my possession. Back on the porch, I handed it over.

"My shirt. I forgot you had it."

"It's 'my' shirt. You need to go home tonight and sleep in it. I made the mistake of washing it and now it doesn't smell like you anymore."

He turned the shirt over and over in his hand, laughing and shaking his head.

"And I want it back first thing in the morning. You read me? — Emma Scott

It doesn't work," she continues, unclasping her hands, smoothing her skirt. "What you're feeling right now doesn't work. You can't wander around and think the wandering will call them back. Believe me. I know you don't want to hear the long view, but let me tell you. You are so young. I know it's none of my business. But still. — David Levithan

i am confident i am over you. so much that some mornings i wake up with a smile on my face and my hands pressed together thanking the universe for pulling you out of me. thank god i cry. thank god you left. i would not be the empire i am today if you had stayed.

but then.

there are some nights i imagine what i might do if you showed up. how if you walked into the room this very second every awful thing you've ever done would be tossed out the closet window and all the love would rise up again. it would pour through my eyes as if it never really left in the first place. as if it's been practicing how to stay silent so long only so it could be this loud on your arrival. can someone explain that. how even when the love leaves. it doesn't leave. how even when i am so past you. i am so helplessly brought back to you. — Rupi Kaur

Looking back, I got the bed I wanted and I lay in it. I didn't want to go to America. If you want to join that world, you have to go and live there, and that was something I could not have done. I am very much about family. It doesn't matter where I live, but I feel very needful of my people around me. Besides, theatre is my first love. — Felicity Kendal

I love you," she says. "But that doesn't mean I'm ready to give up my life for you. I don't want to pull over and park right now. I want to see places, Gray. I want to live my life. You're asking me to give up who I am. If I move with you, I'll just be living your life. Your dream. I'll regret the things you're going to hold me back from doing, and then I'll probably blame you. And that's not fair to either of us. — Katie Kacvinsky

I have enough love for the both of us. Doesn't matter if you love me back. I'm not giving you space or room. You're mine, June. You have been for a long fucking time and I want what we could have had to start now. — Aurora Rose Reynolds

Lena, listen to me, okay? We don't have much more time here. You are in love. I've never seen anything like this before. You have to be brave, okay? You have to go and tell Kostos how you feel. I swear to God if you don't, you will regret it for the rest of your cowardly life.'
'What if he doesn't like me back?'
'That's what I mean about being brave. — Ann Brashares

I don't take so-called "vacations" often. In fact vacations are more stressful than the lives my wife and I worked hard to set up for ourselves in New York. It seems like being on vacation is like normal living, which is not very satisfying. It means we're figuring out what to make for lunch today, and that seems like such an absurd way to live. The issue of dealing with that doesn't seem to be so prominent back home. It sounds so silly and ridiculous, but it's really the way it is. We love what we do, so I prefer being in the studio; that's really living for me. — Ryan McGinness

I begin to learn there are certain things I shouldn't tell her. Like when we meet boys at Dorrian's and I give mine a blow job, or the time I messed around with a boy in the back near the bathrooms. Amy wants to be intimate with boys too, but to her this kind of conduct is slutty. I suppose it is. She, like most girls, including the Jennifers, has a different relationship to boys than I do. She engages in sexual acts with them if she wants, but from my vantage point it looks like she can take them or leave them if they are not just right. She considers whether she actually likes someone before she jumps into bed with him. She isn't wracked with anxiety when there aren't any boys around. And she doesn't need them to live, which is what it feels like for me. — Kerry Cohen

She wasn't about to go down that road herself, which was a testament to her spiritual awakening and her commitment to sanity. It was a real blessing that she didn't follow me, because oftentimes, people go out together and one comes back and the other doesn't. Or both of them never do. — Anthony Kiedis

Ugh," Turner groans from the kitchen. "That skinny tramp can go fuck herself. She doesn't stand a chance. Even if I wasn't fucking committed to marrying your ass making tiny Turner babies, she's a little below my usual standards." Naomi's eyes narrow, and I can't hold back my smile. God, I love the shit out of these stupid assholes. I hope they buy a house down the street from me, so I can watch Naomi throwing Turner's stuff out on the lawn every other Christmas. I don't admit to myself that in that fantasy, Lola Saints is in the kitchen with nothing but an apron on. — C.M. Stunich

But that's not what you said when she walked into the room," said Simon quietly. "You said, 'Why didn't you ever tell me I had a brother?'"
"I know." Clary yanked a blade of grass out of the dirt, worrying it between her fingers. "I guess I can't help thinking that if I'd known the truth, I wouldn't have met Jace the way I did. I wouldn't have fallen in love with him."
Simon was silent for a moment. "I don't think I've ever heard you say that before."
"That I love him?" She laughed, but it sounded dreary even to her ears. "Seems useless to pretend like I don't, at this point. Maybe it doesn't matter. I probably won't ever see him again, anyway."
"He'll come back."
"Maybe."
"He'll come back," Simon said again. "For you. — Cassandra Clare

Admit it." "I loved you the second I put my eyes on you. It doesn't matter." "Let me love you back." "You have a life to live." "I have nothing. — Pepper Winters

"Some people develop a love of something and that love is a lifelong love. Like, say, a scientist. He is on a quest for knowledge. He loves theories. He loves testing his theories. He loves this quest for knowledge. And maybe he is only a teacher or a professor but he still loves this knowledge, he loves what he does and he wants to share it with people. Sure, there are some days when he doesn't want to get out of bed in the morning and go to the job but when he stands back and, and... puts it all into perspective... he realizes it's not that bad at all. He likes what he does. On the other hand, you take a man who works in a factory. It's unrealistic to think this man likes putting the same bolt in the same part or whatever for eight to twelve hours a day. He does it for a paycheck so he can support his family or his booze habit or whatever. But every day, when he goes to work, he has to put himself into something like a coma because he hates what he does so much. Do you follow me? — Andersen Prunty

Why do you look?" I mutter.
I half expect Magiano to tease me, spitting back one of his sarcastic phrases. But he doesn't smile. "We are drawn to stories," he says in a soft voice, "and every scar carries one." He lifts a hand and places his palm gently against the ruined side of my face, covering the scar.
I look down, embarrassed now. Instinctively, I reach up to brush some of my hair over my face - only to remember that I no longer have long locks.
"Hiding it makes you more beautiful," Magiano says. Then he takes his hand away, exposing my scar again. "But revealing it makes you you." He nods at me. "So wear it proudly. — Marie Lu

Most people don't get their soul mates in their designated lifetime or if ever they do, they let them go. It doesn't matter to me who you are, who you love, as long as they love you back. That is what's important. The world seems to have forgotten that and have conducted themselves all based on the concept of love that is both selfish, misguided and outdated. And if the world saw what we see, things would be a whole lot better. — C.J. Edmunds

That Abbie is such a freaking brat who doesn't know anything! My William is wasting away in that castle and that stuck up, self-righteous cow doesn't even care because now she's just all ooooo, Peter I love you! Well I don't love Peter and he's a jerk. Let's go bust down the door!" She sat back and calmly pushed her hair from her face, "Now would you get me a soda? — Gwenn Wright

You can love a monster, it can even love you back, but that doesn't change its nature. This isn't Beauty and the Beast where my kiss would transform the monster to a prince. If anything, it's Shrek, and his kiss brings out the ogre in me. — Eliza Crewe

Ever since I was 12 years old I had to defend my love for heavy metal against those who say it's a less valid form of music. My answer now is that you either feel it or you don't. If metal doesn't give that overwhelming surge of power that make the hair stand up at the back of your neck, you might never get it, and you know what? That's okay, because judging by the 40,000 metalheads around me we're doing just fine without you — Sam Dunn

Helen,
You ask if I regret our engagement.
No. I regret every minute that you're out of my sight. I regret every step that doesn't bring me closer to you.
My last thought each night is that you should be in my arms. There is no peace or pleasure in my empty bed, where I sleep with you only in dreams and wake to curse the dawn.
If I had the right, I would forbid you to go anywhere without me. Not out of selfishness, but because being apart from you is like trying to live without breathing.
Think on that. You've stolen my very breath, cariad. And now I'm left to count the days until I take it back from you, kiss by kiss.
Winterborne — Lisa Kleypas

When I get back into the city, it doesn't matter where you plop me down, I have my friends around me and I feel so blessed. I think we all just love to be together and there are just not enough reasons to be together. — Agathe Snow

Like most girls, I want a lot. Fame and fortune. Equal rights. Shoes no one else has. But I'd trade all that in for the perfect guy. (Don't tell me there's something wrong with that. I don't know of a single person who doesn't spend most of her time thinking about love.) Anyway, ever since I could think, I have been imagining and reimagining the exact sort of boy I want to love and who would love me back. Basically, I imagine someone who has all the good attributes of the male species and whose bad ones wouldn't ruin my life. — Sarah Miller

You're the one getting ready to bolt, Jesper. You just want me to run with you so you don't have to feel so bad about it. For all your love of a fight, you're always the first to talk about running for cover."
"I made a mistake. I let my bad get the best of my good, but for Saints' sake, Kaz, how long are you going to make me pay for a little forgiveness? [...] How many times have I had your back in a fight? How many times have I gotten it right? Doesn't that count for anything?" Jesper threw up his hands. "I can't win with you. No one can. — Leigh Bardugo