Quotes & Sayings About Finally Over Him

On the flight over to Chicago, I thought of a story Mom had once told me from her days as a pediatric nurse.
"There was this little boy I was taking care of," she said "and he was terminally ill,and we all knew it,but he kept hanging on and hanging on. He wouldn't die, it was so sad.
And his parents were always there with him,giving him so much love and support,but he was in so much pain,and it really was,time for him to go.
So finally some of us nurses took his father aside and we told him, 'You have to tell your son it's okay for him to go. You have to give him permission.' And so the father took his son in his arms and he sat with him in a chair and held on to him and told him over and over, that it was okay for him to go,and,well,after a few moments,his son died. — Anthony Rapp

We waited several long moments and I was sure it hadn't worked until I saw Aleks come out of the greenhouse. I'd warned him not to look in our direction since he'd be in view of the security cameras, but as he headed towards the house, he cast a glance over his shoulder and scanned the fence line. When his eyes came to rest on us, I froze and I swore my heart stopped beating. The encounter lasted mere seconds, but it was enough. And even if I hadn't been certain that he'd seen the note, his slight nod just before he turned and went into the house would have told me all I needed to know. My brother knew I had finally come for him. — Sloane Kennedy

Tsunami finally woke up on an island that was officially part of the Thousand Scales. She started awake from a dream in which their cave had collapsed and was slowly crushing her to death, and discovered that Clay had rolled over on top of her in the middle of the night. Grumbling, she wriggled out from under him and let his tail flop over onto Starflight's head. The — Tui T. Sutherland

There are people out there who have x-ray vision. They can see through my walls, armor and scrims and filters right down to the real me. And the saddest thing in the world? I haven't forgotten who that person is. She's on there and waiting. Like sleeping beauty locked high in a tower, she's been patient and aware of the coma I've been in all these years. I realise the one hitch in having x-ray glasses is that I'm utterly exposed to him. It's one thing to want someone to keep looking, to swim over moats and dodge flaming arrows to find you. It's quite another when you ask yourself, really ask yourself, if you're finally ready to come out into the open. No matter what. — Liza Palmer

He thought himself awake when he was already asleep. He saw the stars above his face, whirling on their silent and sleepless axis, and the leaves of the trees rustling against them, and he heard small changes in the grass. These little noises of footsteps and soft-fringed wing-beats and stealthy bellies drawn over the grass blades or rattling against the bracken at first frightened or interested him, so that he moved to see what they were (but never saw), then soothed him, so that he no longer cared to see what they were but trusted them to be themselves, and finally left him altogether as he swam down deeper and deeper, nuzzling into the scented turf, into the warm ground, into the unending waters under the earth. — T.H. White

Though Jonah felt transfixed inside his own childhood, no one else saw him as a child. He was already over the hump of middle age, heading rapidly toward those year that no one like to speak of. The best parts had already passed for people Jonah's age. By now you were meant to have become what you would finally be, and to gracefully and unobtrusively stay in that state for the rest of your life. — Meg Wolitzer

Scully nodded. Of course. It made sense. Complete sense. No question about it. Mulder was perfectly sane in telling her all this. And she was perfectly sane in listening to it and nodding and urging him to tell her more. It was the rest of the world that was-
She doubled over as a wave of laughter hit her.
Mulder looked at her and started laughing too.
They stood there in the cemetery in the darkness and the drizzle, laughing their heads off.
'You know we're crazy,' Scully finally said.
'Of course we are,' Mulder gasped out. — Les Martin

A few minutes passed, and Thomas felt the long day finally catch up to him, the leaded edge of sleep
crossing over his mind. But - like a fist had shoved it in his brain and let go - a thought popped into his
head. One that he didn't expect, and he wasn't sure from where it came. — James Dashner

Ain't all that simple," he said. "It's everything I been brought up to be. Can't all be bullshit, can it?" Rydell, glancing over at him, took pity. "Naw," he said, "I guess it wouldn't have to be, necessarily, all of it, but it's just - " "What they bring you all up to be, Berry?" Rydell had to think about it. "Republican," he said, finally. — William Gibson

Joe hid his grin. "A little grab-ass is not accosting." At the worst of times, Luna could amuse him. And now he finally had her where he wanted her.
...
Her mesmerizing eyes shone with annoyance and disbelief. "I barely knew you, Joe. I brought you a sandwich, and half a minute later you had your hands all over me."
Despite his aches and pains, the memory warmed Joe. Locking onto her gaze, he said in his defense, "You have that kind of bottom, honey. All round and soft."
Her color deepened. "Of all the stupid, sexist
"
"It's irresistible," Joe insisted, and meant it. "It begs for a man's hands. It
" There looked to be an explosion imminent, so Joe wisely let that go for now and instead distracted her. "And for your information, no. I didn't get beat up by a woman." He snorted. "How absurd is that?"
"I dunno." Her body vibrated with tension. "I'm ready to beat you up."
-Joe and Luna — Lori Foster

I'm not leaving."

"I want you out of the city, and now. If the chalet doesn't suit you, go where you like. But you will go."

"I have no intention of going anywhere."

"Fuck it. You're fired."

"Very well. I will remove my belongings and book a hotel until -- "

"Oh, shut up. Both of you shut the hell up." She fisted her hands in her hair, yanked fiercely. "Just my luck, you finally say the words I've been waiting over a year to hear and I can't do my happy dance. You expect him to put his tail between his skinny legs and hide?" she demanded of Roarke. "You think when you're in the middle of this kind of mess he's just going to bop over to Switzerland and yodel, or whatever the hell they do there? — J.D. Robb

When I finally calmed down, I handed her the Ewok. "Can you go back and give it to him" I said. "Oh, honey," she answered. "That's so sweet of you. But Isabel can clean the Lego set. It'll be good as new for Auggie, don't worry." "No, for the other kid," I answered. She looked at me a second, like she didn't know what to say. "Via said he doesn't speak any English," I sai. "It must be really scary for him, being in the hospital." She nodded slowly. "Yeah," she whispered. "It must be." She closed her eyes and hugged me again. And then she took me over to the security desk, where I waited until she went back up the elevator and, after about five minutes, came back down again. "Did he like it?" I asked. "Honeyboy," she said softly, brushing the hair out of my eyes. "You made his day. — R.J. Palacio

They stood in silence for a few moments with Ryan watching him carefully. He was fiddling with his t-shirt and scuffing his sneaker against the floor as he appeared to turn something over in his mind. His expression went through a variety of metamorphoses before he finally sighed and shook his head.
"Y'know, I'm not a big expert on this stuff. I've never even been in a real relationship and I'm twenty-five, but like..." He trailed off for a minute, bit his lip and then shrugged before pressing on. "But I saw the way both of you guys were at the start of this whole thing, and if you two could have that kind of intense fire stuff considering the way you both were... I dunno, I wouldn't give up so easy. But then again, maybe I read too much fanfic. — Santino Hassell

I squeeze his hand to let him know that I get it, that I share his pain. That's the moment when I think I finally understand what my science teachers tried to explain when they talked about thermal energy. My atoms are in motion making a path from my fingertips where I connect with him, spreading to my whole body and getting me hotter by the second. All my molecules seem to be moving and vibrating on their own accord, faster and faster and making my hand feels tingly. Whenever I'm around him I always have this warmth that surrounds me. When I get all flustered because he is making me all hot and bothered without even meaning to, the heat starts to resemble a fever. Now, it's like a volcano erupted all over me. It's passion and love and suffering all smashed together and linked between our hands. A little ball of emotions that keeps expanding. — Tammy Faith

Let's go over the facts one more time," Josh says. "This is your first weekend away from home?"
"Yes."
"Your first weekend without parental supervision?"
"Yes."
"Your first weekend without parental supervision in Paris? And you want to spend it in your bedroom? Alone?" He and Rashmi exchange pitying glances. I look at St. Clair for help, but find him staring at me with his head tilted to the side.
"What?" I ask,irritated. "Soup on my chin? Green bean between my teeth?"
St. Clair smiles to himself. "I like your stripe," he finally says. He reaches out and touches it lightly. "You have perfect hair. — Stephanie Perkins

Finally, as the sun was setting, Marcus 'killed' all my body guards, and I was facing my 'attacker' alone. Prest grinned at me as he lay dead at my feet. I looked over at Marcus, who stood there with two daggers, threatening me. "Now what?"

He tilted his head under that cloak, and glared at me. "What can you do?"

"I don't know!" Frustrated, I glared back at him.

Ander had managed to 'die' face down, and looked like he was taking a nap. "Look for a weakness," he whispered to me.

Weakness? Marcus had already proved he was deadly with those daggers, so what weakness did he have?

Marcus rolled his one eye at me.

Oh. — Elizabeth Vaughan

It was awful, but it's over. And now I feel like I'm finally coming up for air."
"Yes, well, it's been a very stressful time for both of us," said Leonard.
"How has it been stressful for you? said Holly.
"I had that move."
Holly just looked at him.
"What," said Leonard.
"You moved apartments" said Holly. — Sarah Dunn

He tightened his arms, not wanting Ty to move away. "It's more than just fucking around now," he said. "Isn't it?" He made sure the tone of his voice emphasized that it wasn't really a question. Ty was motionless in response. He didn't even seem to be breathing. The silence stretched on, edging toward tension. Finally, he let out his breath quietly and lowered his head. "No," he lied blithely, just as he'd done in a hotel in New York City over a year ago. Zane chuckled. A classic Grady response, and definitely the one he preferred to hear. A "yes" just might have given him a heart attack. He held Ty close. "You owe me." "Owe you?" Ty repeated in a rough, questioning voice as Zane felt his heartbeat begin to speed up. "Mm hmm. How I've wanted you," Zane breathed. "It scares the hell out of me." "I know," Ty murmured as he turned in place and nuzzled against Zane's neck. — Abigail Roux

Something felt different between them as she led him to the bed. Instead of the impatient need to
have her naked that he'd always felt before, tonight he took his time undressing her. He noticed little
things he hadn't before, like the scattering of freckles across the top of her shoulders, which he kissed
as he slid the straps of her bra down her arms.
Under the covers, his hands and mouth moved slowly over her. By now, he knew what she liked,
knew all the things that had her moaning his name softly in the darkness, and when he finally eased
into her, he kept his lower body still for several moments as they kissed, wanting to simply savor the
feeling of being inside her.
And in that moment, he was pretty sure that nothing else had ever felt quite so right. — Julie James

Finally, although they didn't want to, Hazel and Jones were chosen to call on Doc. They found him working over a tide chart while he ate a chicken stew of which the principal ingredient was not chicken but sea cucumber. They thought he looked at them a little coldly. "It's Darling," they said. "She's sick. — John Steinbeck

He grinned again. We'd only been seeing each other for a few weeks now, but this easy give-and-take still surprised me. From that very first day in my room, I felt like we'd somehow skipped the formalities of the Beginning of a Relationship: those awkward moments when you're not all over each other and are still feeling out the other person's boundaries and limits. Maybe this was because we'd been circling each other for a while before he finally catapulted through my window. But if I let myself think about it much - and I didn't - I had flashes of realising that I'd been comfortable with him even at the very start. Clearly, he'd been comfortable with me, grabbing my hand as he had that first day. As if he knew, even then, that we'd be here now. — Sarah Dessen

My feet are killing me." "I knew somebody who had feet like that. They'd walk all over him. Archie Kashanian was his name. He used to wake up with footprints all over his chest, all over his face. It was the death of him, finally. — Clive Barker

He was curiously calm. Men were supposed to go mad with grief when their children died, he knew. They were supposed to tear their hair out by the roots, to curse the gods and swear red vengeance. So why was it that he felt so little? The boy lived and died believing Robert Baratheon his sire. Jaime had seen him born, that was true, though more for Cersei than the child. But he had never held him. "How would it look?" his sister warned him when the women finally left them. "Bad enough Joff looks like you without you mooning over him." Jaime yielded with hardly a fight. The boy had been a squalling pink thing who demanded too much of Cersei's time, Cersei's love, and Cersei's breasts. Robert was welcome to him. And now he's dead. — George R R Martin

I don't want to hear how he beat her after the earthquake,
tore up her writing, threw the kerosene
lantern into her face waiting
like an unbearable mirror of his own. I don't
want to hear how she finally ran from the trailer
how he tore the keys from her hands, jumped into the truck
and backed it into her. I don't want to think
how her guesses betrayed her - that he meant well, that she
was really the stronger and ought not to leave him
to his own apparent devastation. I don't want to know
wreckage, dreck and waste, but these are the materials
and so are the slow lift of the moon's belly
over wreckage, dreck, and waste, wild treefrogs calling in
another season, light and music still pouring over
our fissured, cracked terrain. — Adrienne Rich

Desperately she reached for his dark head, pulled him harder against her, and his tongue slipped over the aching bud of her sex. The silence of the room was punctuated by her gasping breaths, the suckling sounds he made, and the creak of the chair as she rocked forward, upward, straining to capture his tantalizing mouth. Just as she thought she could no longer bear the intimate torture, the tension exploded in a rapturous burst of fire. She cried out and shuddered, her legs jerking up against the upholstered chair arms, and the spasms went on and on until she finally begged him to stop. — Lisa Kleypas

He reached out, capturing her hand in his. He laced his fingers casually through hers.
Violet leaned against him and the calm finally came, settling over her peacefully.
And then he kissed her. Gently. Softly. Not on the lips, as she'd imagined so many times before, but on her forehead.
The gesture was sweet and a little possessive.
Violet hoped, maybe, it was a start. — Kimberly Derting

His smile wavers. I've been looking at him too long. 'Are you OK?' he says.
I nod, take a deep breath.
Then I lean over and kiss him. — Emma Pass

Finally, Grom shakes his head. "She's a Half-Breed, Galen."
Mom's head snaps toward him. "She's my daughter," she says slowly. She pulls herself from his lap and stands over him, hands on hips. Oh, he's in serious shiznit now. And I can't help but feel elated about it."Are you saying my daughter's not good enough for your brother?"
Yeah, Grom, are you? Huh, huh are you?
Grom sighs, the triviality in his expression softening into something else. "Nalia, love-"
"Don't you 'Nalia, love' me." Mom crosses her arms — Anna Banks

Neither man spoke, both lost in thought. Lucien was visited by the awful memory of the day when Cedric's parents died.
Lucien knew that Cedric had been watching over Audrey at the Sheridan townhouse on Curzon Street when a footman had come running. Cedric once told him that everything seemed to slow from that moment on. The footman was flushed and sputtered about a carriage accident and finally blurted out, "Dead, sir. Both Lord and Lady Sheridan are dead. Your sister suffered a broken arm, but is alive. Lord Rochester was nearby and helped in rescuing your sister."
Lucien would never forget that moment when he'd brought Horatia home after the accident. Cedric had taken two steps towards the door and his legs gave out, sinking to his knees.

-His Wicked Seduction — Lauren Smith

His position at that moment was like the position of a man standing over a frightful precipice, when the earth breaks away under him, is rocking, shifting, sways for a last time, and falls, drawing him into the abyss, and meanwhile the unfortunate man has neither the strength nor the firmness of spirit to jump back, to take his eyes from the yawning chasm; the abyss draws him, and he finally leaps into it himself, himself hastening the moment of his own perdition. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Byron had drawn his pistol, and was looking closely at the leaves and dirt around him, as if he'd dropped something. "It's
do keep calm now
it's right over your head. I suppose you could look, if you can do it slowly."
Crawford felt drops of sweat run down his ribs under his shirt as he slowly forced the muscles of his neck to tilt his head up; he saw the upper slope, bristling with trees that obstructed a view of the road, and then he saw the outer branches of the tree he was braced against, and finally he gathered his tattered courage and looked straight up.
And it took all of his self-control not to recoil or scream, and he was distantly resentful that he couldn't just die in this instant. — Tim Powers

Wanna take a nap? Cooper and Farah do it all the time." A lazy grin lit up Judd's face and I rolled my eyes. "Napping isn't code."
"I don't nap, babe. I wouldn't mind hanging out at home while you napped though. I wasn't planning on doing anything today besides watching some crap on DVR."
Staring up at him, I felt strangely nervous to say the words. Finally, I forced them out. "Can I sleep over tonight?"
Judd gave me another lazy grin. "Where else would you sleep, angel? — Bijou Hunter

Tame him? You can't tame a Tower rat
they're flea-bitten and vicious."
"So are most men!" The girl smiled and stretched her cramped limbs. "Shall I tame one of them instead? They too make diverting pets, you know."
Markham laughed nervously. "Wouldn't you rather have a dog, madam?"
"Ah no
too loyal! They present no challenge." Behind the girl's steady eyes a shadow stirred. "My mother had a dog once. She used to make it jump through a burning hoop to prove its devotion to her, until she found my father did it better. He jumped through that hoop for over six years. When he finally got tired of performing for her amusement he killed her. And that's what makes men such interesting pets, Markham
you never know when they're going to turn and bite. — Susan Kay

Now that I had finally confronted him, he had lost his power over me. — Peg Kehret

Across the room, she heard a loud clatter. She looked up to see that Roland ahd fallen out of his chair. The last time she'd glanced at him, he'd been leaning back on tw legs, and now it looked like gravity had finally won.
As he stumbled to his feet, Arriane went to help him. She glanced over and offered a hurried wave. "He's okay!" she called cheerily. "Get up!" she whispered loudly to Roland. — Lauren Kate

How long since he'd been back home? Ten years? Fifteen? He'd stopped keeping track around the time he'd finally stopped looking over his shoulder. At the time, leaving had seemed too good to be true. He'd spent months feeling like he was half a step ahead of some nameless specter; like if he let his guard down, even for a second, whatever it was would drag him right back where he'd come from. — Laura Oliva

One must face the fact that all the talk about His
love for men, and His service being perfect freedom, is not (as one would gladly believe) mere propaganda,
but an appalling truth. He really does want to fill the universe with a lot of loathsome little replicas of
Himself - creatures, whose life, on its miniature scale, will be qualitatively like His own, not because He has
absorbed them but because their wills freely conform to His. We want cattle who can finally become food;
(2) He wants servants who can finally become sons. We want to suck in, He wants to give out. We are
empty and would be filled; He is full and flows over. Our war aim is a world in which Our Father Below has
drawn all other beings into himself: the Enemy wants a world full of beings united to Him but still distinct. — C.S. Lewis

Tucker finally parked next to me. We joined Cooper who stared at a hawk flying over the woods.
"I've had my eye on you since the Devils came to town," Cooper said, glancing at me. "Ignore the romantic vibe to that statement."
Tucker snorted in amusement, but Cooper ignored him and continued, "The rest of the guys at the worksite hid when the Devils showed up. You decided to take on armed bikers with a fucking hammer. How you didn't end up in the ground I'll never know, but it made me think you have the kind of balls a man needs to run with guys like these two."
Cooper opened the door where Vaughn and Judd stood in a one room cabin. — Bijou Hunter

I finally know what to wish for."
Puzzled, she gazed down at him while the long locks of her hair trailed over his chest and shoulders. "What?"
"The wishing well," he reminded her.
"Oh, yes ... " Lottie lowered her face to his chest and nuzzled the soft fur, recalling that morning in the forest. "You wouldn't make a wish."
"Because I didn't know what I wanted. And now I do."
"What do you want?" she asked tenderly.
His hand slipped behind her head, pulling her mouth down to his. "To love you forever," he whispered just before their lips met.
-Nick & Lottie — Lisa Kleypas

The man called Gareth was laughing into his mobile phone as the door opened. There were gold rings on each of his fingers, chains dangling from his neck and wrists. He wasn't tall but he was wide. Rebus got the impression much of it was fat. A gut hung over his waistband. He was balding badly, and had allowed what hair he had to grow uncut, so that it hung down to the back of his collar and beyond. He wore a black leather trenchcoat and black T-shirt, with baggy denims and scuffed trainers. He already had his free hand out for the cash, wasn't expecting another hand to grab it and haul him inside the flat. He dropped the phone, swearing and finally taking note of Rebus. — Ian Rankin

But if they thought Blair stripping Furi was hot, Furi leaned in, his forehead pressed against Blair's, his bottom lip clenched between his teeth, slowly popping one of the buttons on Blair's shirt, teasing the guys with more skin, and before they could all calm down from that, Furi gripped Blair's hips and yanked his body into him, dragging his hands up his chest, clamping down on his shoulders and in one skilled move, shoving Blair to his knees. The crowd erupted and God finally had to pry his eyes away and look over at Prescott and Syn. Both of them looked proud and extremely turned on. Blair and Furious together should be fucking illegal. — A.E. Via

I think she did really try her hardest to get over him. You would, wouldn't you, if someone had hurt you like that? You'd make all kinds of promises to yourself not to let them do something like that again. But wouldn't a small part of you always be wondering "what if" Wouldn't some part of you - a part that you might not want to exist - still be holding out for that happy ending? It's how we're built isn't it? No matter how many times you get slapped in the face you have to believe that the next time would be different. And then in comes the guy who hurt you all those years ago, and he wants to make things better and to prove he's not all talk- this time it will be different. How could she not fall for that? How could she not think that if she chose him it would finally lift the shadow that he'd cast over her life? All that hurt, all that suffering wouldn't have been for nothing then, would it? If he'd come back to you like that, would you have taken him back? — Mike Gayle

Dawn.
The transformation is gruesome and brings me to my feet. My legs nearly buckle, but I stumble to the doorway, terrified for the man-beast in the destroyed room.
He screams and roars, shaking with pain, and grief, and such horrible shame. My heart bleeds, weeping for him. I fall to my knees, helpless to do anything but watch.
When it is finally, blessedly over, my Beast bows his head, looking utterly exhausted. His rumbling breaths are a comfort like nothing I've ever known.
I cannot give up on the monster of a man. For this gentle, tormented Beast, I must fight on. I must find a way to free him. — Alianne Donnelly

It's just ... Hardy was always the one I was supposed to end up with. He was everything I dreamed of and wanted. But damn it, why did he have to show up when I thought I'd finally gotten over him? — Lisa Kleypas

Grandma Harken was sharpening her garden shears. Her hands slowed on the file and she said finally, "He'll get in trouble and he'll figure it out. Best to do it without us standing over him. It's the only way anybody ever learns to clean up after themselves. — Ursula Vernon

And I like the light-up."
"The what?"
"The light-up," he'd say. "You know, that look people get when they finally realize you're for real. It's like electricity. It makes me tingle all over. Like a blanket full of static."
Ew. "Really? I've never heard that."
"Yeah, and I like it when people realize we're out here."
I leaned in close once and asked him, "Do you want your mom to realize you're out here? Do you want her to know?"
"Nah. It took her too long to get over me."
All in all, he was a good kid. — Darynda Jones

Kurt dreamt about more than the rough squeeze of James's hands over his jeans. He dreamt of the warmth of his tongue and a sharp bite from his teeth in sensitive places. He dreamt of taking it further, a thought that held more of the sharp edges of delicious reality than any previous fantasy. Finally, he'd dreamt of feeling James's arms around him as he slept, feeling at once safe and needed, as if every worry could be erased if the right person cared for him. — Sara Winters

I let my fingers run over the muscles of his chest and shoulders before making their way up to hold his face in my hands. I couldn't figure out if I wanted to smile or cry because I was so in love with this man, and so thankful for him. Instead I just continued to stare at him and finally whispered, "There are times when you know exactly what to say, and your words leave me speechless. — Molly McAdams

Here's an idea, Rosie. Why don't you just tell Alex how you feel? Why don't you just finally get all of those feelings out in the open, and clear your messed-up little head? At least then he'll know that you're not going over not because you don't care about him, but that in fact you love him, more than he knows, but that you need to stay here for Katie. Then that will put the ball in his court. He can make the decision whether to come to you or not. — Cecelia Ahern

We were at a swap meet in Cochituate last year, and there was this Boy Scout troop with a sign that read, 'Help Boy Scouts, Blind Kids.' Toby saw it, and he grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me away. I asked what was wrong, and with this scared expression on his face, he said, That's not right. They need to be stopped.'
I cracked up. 'Oh, no,' I said.
'When I asked him why helping blind kids and Boy Scouts was bad, Toby's whole face went white. He said, 'Forget it. Let's go.' But I had to know what the hell he was talking about, so I made him walk back over with me. We looked at the sign together, and finally he mumbled, 'I didn't see the comma. — Bill Konigsberg

Finally the vampire released him with another groan, sitting back on his haunches. "Your blood is steeped in power." Running his tongue over a fang, he said, "Among other things. I believe I might be high. But I like it. — Kresley Cole

Against all odds, we made it to the top of the fence. Getting over to the other side was much more difficult, and I had to do a fair amount of acrobatics to help Adrian make the transition while keeping myself steady. Finally, I wrangled him into the correct position to climb down.
"Good," I said. "Now just reverse what you did before, one hand down in front of the-"
Something slipped, either his hand or foot, and Adrian plummeted to the ground. It wasn't that long of a drop, and his height helped a little- not that he was in any shape to actually use his legs and land on his feet. I winced.
"Or you can just take the short way down," I said. — Richelle Mead

How many lovers?" He could have given her a straight answer. Dozens. Or, more specifically: Thirty-seven. Thirty-seven, if you counted mutual versions of the conduct he'd just engaged in, and Sebastian did.But what he finally said was, "Too many. And not enough." Her face was in shadow. He couldn't tell if she was disgusted by him, or if this was just a matter of idle curiosity for her.
She exhaled. "How many would be enough?"
He smiled sadly. "One more, Violet." He looked over at her - at her arms folded around herself, at her head, turned from his, as if that would be enough to distract him from the ferocity of his want. "I've only ever wanted one more. — Courtney Milan

It wasn't until Hope fluttered over and landed at Alex's feet, peering questioningly up at him, that he finally tore his hands away from his eyes.
"Oh, my God," he said, sounding disgusted. "Why is there a bird looking at me?"
"That's Miss Oliviera's bird," Henry volunteered cheerfully. "The captain gave it to her as a present."
Kayla punched me in the arm. "John's got his captain's license?" she whispered. "You are so lucky. Frank says he just loads cargo."
I glanced at Frank. I wondered if Kayla would like him as much if she knew the "cargo" he loaded was human souls. — Meg Cabot

In bed, I steal moments of tenderness when sex has finally exhausted me to the point where I'm too bone weary to fret anymore about the enormous capacity for evil that's taken up squatter's rights inside me. I touch him, put all those things I don't say into my hands as I trace the red and black tattoos on his skin, the sharp planes and hollows of his face, bury my hands in his dark hair. He watches me in silence when I do, eyes dark, unfathomable.
I sometimes wake up to find he's pulled me close to him and is holding me, spooned into my back with his face in my hair, and those hands that don't speak like mine don't speak move over my skin and tell me I'm cherished, honored, seen. — Karen Marie Moning

Not all monsters are filled with darkness.' She wanted him to understand this so badly that her voice trembled.
He didn't even hesitate. 'This one is.'
She allowed herself a moment to admire Tommy, the way he stood so resolute, like a knight charging after the monster. He just didn't get that this fight wasn't his to wage.
'Exactly so,' she finally said.
Of course Tommy would think she talking to him. He exhaled as though relieved and the start of a smile eased the tension around his lips. By the time he realized that she'd spoken the words to someone over his shoulder, it was already too late. — Carrie Ryan

O! useful may it be to have shewn, that, though the vicious can sometimes pour affliction upon the good, their power is transient and their punishment certain; and that innocence, though oppressed by injustice, shall, supported by patience, finally triumph over misfortune!And, if the weak hand, that has recorded this tale, has, by its scenes, beguiled the mourner of one hour of sorrow, or, by its moral, taught him to sustain it - the effort, however humble, has not been vain, nor is the writer unrewarded. — Ann Radcliffe

That was it. Shogo stopped breathing. The dim yellow light falling from the ceiling of the pilothouse shone on his pale face. He seemed at ease.
"Shogo!" Shuya yelled. He still had more to say. "You'll see Keiko! You'll be happy with her! You're
"
It was too late. Shogo couldn't hear anything anymore. But his face just looked so damned peaceful.
"Damn it." Shuya's lips trembled along with his words. "Damn it."
Holding Shogo's hands, Noriko was crying.
Shuya also put his hand on Shogo's thick hand. A thought occured to him. He searched through Shogo's pockets and found the red bird call. He pressed it into Shogo's right hand and closed his hands over it so he could hold it. Shuya then finally burst into tears. — Koushun Takami

Stuart Maxwell told me in a shaky voice that the first time Cheyenne picked him out as her victim for the kissing game, it had been like a nightmare as he'd found himself cornered by the circle of girls, only to see Cheyenne's lips coming closer and closer, until finally the smell of cranberry Kiehl's lip balm had overwhelmed him.
'And that's when,' Stuart told me in a horrified voice, 'I knew it was all over. — Meg Cabot

We are always held in the love of God. We are never wholly at the mercy of other people - they are only "second causes," and no matter how many second or third or fiftieth causes seem to be in control of what happens to us, it is God who is in charge, He who holds the keys, He who casts the lot finally into the lap. Trusting Him, then, requires that I leave some things to be decided by others. I must learn to relinquish the control I might wield over somebody else if the decision properly belongs to him. I must resist my urge to manipulate him, needle and prod and pester until he capitulates. I must trust God in him, trust God to do for both of us better than I know. — Elisabeth Elliot

This is a little awkward," I said, "but my mother just ran over the rabbit."
"Ran over?"
"As in roadkill. We're not sure what to do about it."
"Where are you?"
"Giovichinni's, buying lunch meat."
"And the rabbit?"
"Gone. He was with two other guys. They scooped him up off the road and drove away with him."
There was a long silence on the phone. "I'm fucking speechless," Morelli finally said. — Janet Evanovich

Could've understood wanting Cam as a security blanket after everything they'd been through, but that wasn't it. Austin fucked the man under him harder and faster, not because it provided comfort, but because he fucking loved him. He didn't know if he'd fallen completely; he didn't feel like reading into it anyway, but he finally knew where he was headed - where this was headed. "Let me make you come." He kissed Cam 'til they were both breathless. Austin was on the brink of orgasm, too. "Christ." He sucked on Cam's bottom lip as his balls drew up and tightened, as the familiar tingling sensation traveled down his spine, and as he buried his cock deep in Cam's ass over and over and over. "Close," Cam gritted — Cara Dee

I wrote 'Lakeside View Apartment Suites' with Roman in my arms. He was about a month old. I was playing left-handed and finally handed him over. On the demo of it, you can hear him crying in the next room. — John Darnielle

As long as you hold on to your anger for the wrong man of the past, he will forever have control over your ability to be happy in the future." A lot of you have moved on physically, but you still carry the pain and the anger that he caused you inside. Give yourself a fair chance to find true happiness. Now is the time to finally let him go. — Amari Soul

You're scaring me," Jack's voice finally cut through, and I opened my eyes, barely able to see him. "okay, good, yes, breathe. Breathing helps one stay alive,I've found.What on earth is so bad about a stupid school saying no?" "My life"-I gasped-"is over.It's over. Everything." He frowned dubiously. "Who would want to go to a place called Georgetown, anyhow? Ridiculous. Now,I could understand your devastation if it had a distinguished name like, say, Jacktown, but as it is,you're overreacting. Why do you want to go to more school? I went once for a few hours and nearly lost my mind. — Kiersten White

The next day the German police picked them up, loaded them onto an armored truck and took them back to Colditz. Alexander was badly beaten by the German guards and taken to solitary, where he spent so long he lost track of time. With Pasha's death came the death of faith. Release me, Tatiana, release me, forgive me, forget me, let me forget you. I want to be free of you, free of your face, free of your freedom, free of your fire, free, free, free. The flight across the ocean was over, and with it all the warmth of his imagination. A numbness encroached on him, freezing him from the heart out, the anesthetic of despair creeping its tentacles over his ten-dons and his arteries, over his nerves and his veins until he was stiff inside and bereft of hope and bereft of Tatiana. Finally. But not quite. — Paullina Simons

In short, our gentleman became so immersed in his reading that he spent whole nights from sundown to sunup and his days from dawn to dusk in poring over his books, until, finally, from so little sleeping and so much reading, his brain dried up and he went completely out of his mind. He filled his imagination with everything he had read, with enchantments, knightly encounters, battles, challenges, wounds, with tales of love and its torments, and all sorts of impossible things, and as a result had come to believe that all these fictitious happenings were true; they were more real to him than anything else in the world. — Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra

What's the truth? The truth is what happened to you and him or her, over the years, and what didn't happen. The truth is what you said and didn't say, how much you tried, how you changed, and whether you were lucky. I believe in luck. I think luck plays a huge part in success. Or failure. In the end, who cares about the truth? You still end up divorced. Finally, the biggest asshole wins. Sort of. At least the biggest asshole takes home the must stuff. If you consider this winning then have at it. You're an asshole. — Margaret Overton

He wanted to impart some of the truths Bruce Denton had taught him, that you dont' become a runner by winning a morning workout. The only true way is to marshal the ferocity of your ambition over the course of many days, weeks, months, and (if you could finally come to accept it) years. The Trial of Miles; Miles of Trials. How could he make them understand? — John L. Parker Jr.

The GPS unit became almost equally obstreperous, though, over Richard's unauthorized route change, until they finally passed over some invisible cybernetic watershed between two possible ways of getting to their destination, and it changed its fickle little mind and began calmly telling him which way to proceed as if this had been its idea all along. — Neal Stephenson

Still, Lindsay stops getting dressed, even though he's only half-done, because he gets this urge to ambush the kid with a hug. Just that, nothing else. He wraps his arms around Valentine's skinny body and pulls him close and rests his cheek on the still-damp hair and inhales the cherry-almond scent of his shampoo, and Valentine says, "Oh!" in a really odd way, like he's just read a particularly interesting fact on the back of a Penguin biscuit wrapper. Lindsay's got his eyes shut but he can feel the kid's hands creeping up his bare arms, over his shoulders. One stays there and the other comes to rest on the back of his neck, fingers playing idly with the ends of his hair, and several minutes pass without sound or movement, just the gentle thud of heartbeats.
"What's that for?" Valentine asks, when Lindsay finally lets him go.
"Don't know. Nothing. Just seemed the kind of thing you'd like. BAM, surprise ninja cuddles. — Richard Rider

He shows me that, and I feel it, as he holds me tightly, making love to me. I'm sweaty, and exhausted, by the time it's over. My body is spent from orgasms, and my heart feels like it goes to explode. I say nothing, though, afraid to speak, afraid to offer him any words. Because if I do, I might spew a fucking rainbow. I might spout out the kind of nonsense found in Napoleon's romance novella.
Naz lies on top of me for a moment after he finishes before finally pulling out. He stands up, gathering our clothes, tossing mine to me as I lay on the bed.
"I'm sure now," I manage to say, as I watch Naz getting dressed.
He turns to me. "Yeah?"
I nod as I sit up, clutching a hold of my necklace. "I've got everything I want. — J.M. Darhower

I sit on my bed and think about Nader McMillan and wonder what I'm going to do. Ignore him. Stand up to him. Avoid him. Be "tough." I think of the stuff Dad has said over the years. How he finally gave up suggesting things. Why are you asking me this? I never figured out what to do about my own bullies. How am I supposed to know what to do with yours? — A.S. King

Then he leaned over and kissed his wife, holding his breath as if it could hold the moment, as well, as if this single kiss could keep his wife and family and everything he loved from ever coming to harm, from ever leaving him alone. "What was that for?" Connie asked when their lips finally separated... "For everything I don't know how to say with words. — Jason Mott

Mortimer Lindquist seemed to have finally given in to the inevitable. I'd seen him with a bad toupee, and with an even worse comb-over, but this was the first time I'd seen him sporting a full-on Charles Xavier. — Jim Butcher

When I finally accept it, the truth stings. But there's no time to dwell on it, and there are only two choices: I can remind myself about someone who is not a part of my life, or I can leave him out of my notes to save myself from going through this all over again tomorrow. — Cat Patrick

I missed him," she said finally.
I put my hand over hers and sat down, pulling my chair closer. "I know," I said softly.
"You came back from Florida feeling really good, and then you find out he's such a rat bastard that he - "
"No," she said distractedly, interrupting me. "I missed him. All those Ensures, and not
a one made contact. I have terrible aim." And then she sighed. "Even just one would have made it
better. Somehow. — Sarah Dessen

But he hadn't appeared that night. Not the next morning, either. By the time she finally crossed paths with him the following afternoon, his mumbled "Merry Christmas" was the extent of their exchange.
It seemed they were back to silence.
I don't want you.
She tried to ignore the words echoing in her memory. They weren't true, she told herself. She was an expert at deceit; she knew a lie when she heard one.
Still. What else to believe, when he avoided her thus?
Although he rarely spoke to her over the next two days, Sophia frequently overheard him speaking of her. Even these remarks were the tersest of commands: "Fetch Miss Turner more water," or "See that her canopy doesn't go slack." She felt herself being tended, not unlike a goat. Fed, watered, sheltered. Perhaps she shouldn't complain. Food, water, and shelter were all welcome things.
But Sophia was not livestock, and she had other, more profound needs. Needs he seemed intent on neglecting, the infuriating man. — Tessa Dare

Gentleman Jim [dog] was cheerful enough, partly because his owner was so well trained... He had alsot trained him to get up when he didn't want to, simply by climbing slowly and painfully on top of him and squeezing all the breath out of him as he slept. On the occasions this didn't work and Gordon seemed to be simply lapsing into a coma, Gentleman Jim would unroll his massive tongue, containing over a half a pint of drool, and dribble it slowly into his ear until Gordon finally awoke... — Livi Michael

Max felt his eye twitching. He knew he should be yelling, but his limbs wouldn't move. This was what it felt like to be paralyzed with rage. Yes, he was going to do it. He was going to finally go utterly psychotic and prove the whole town right. He was going to walk over to those arrogant assholes and take the first one apart. Then he'd beat the other one to death with his dead brother's leg. He looked to his own brother. Rye would save him from his towering rage. Rye would have calming words. Rye would talk him down.
Rye's face was red as he pointed at the young cowboys. You, kill now, Max. — Sophie Oak

His eyes drifted shut. without opening them, he murmured, "I like the sound of your laugh. It's real and genuine. A lot of girls have this fake laugh. Not you."
"I like your laugh, too." I whispered, feeling pulled in, cozy in the cacoon of his bed.
"Yeah?"
I flattened my palm over his chest, enjoying the sensation of the firm flesh, even warm as it was. He sighed, like my cool hand offered him some relief.
"I laugh more since you came around," he said quietly, his lips barely forming the words.
He did? I frowned. He must not have laughed at all before, then, because I didn't think he was particularly jovial.
I held him through the night. And he held me back, tucking my head beneath his chin. His arms surrounded me and kept me close to his overly warm body. Almost like I was some kind of lifeline. I felt the moment his fever broke around one in the morning. I finally relaxed and fell asleep. — Sophie Jordan

When the hole was done they backed the machine up and turned it around and used the front bucket to push Keever into his grave, scraping him, rolling him, covering his body with dirt, until finally it fell over the lip and thumped down into the electric shadows. — Lee Child

Matt opened the door. "We seriously need to finish the process with her hair."
"Two more minutes," Trace said.
Matt balked over the delay, but finally said, "Fine. Two minutes and no more." He ducked back inside.
"Oh, wow," Priss teased. "He really is terrified of you, isn't he?"
Trace smiled. "It was noble of you to try to shield him earlier."
"Yeah, well." She huffed out a breath and looked down at their clasped hands. "You were mean-mugging him, and I wasn't sure what you might do."
"And you figured whatever you did, you could stop me even if another man couldn't? — Lori Foster

Carly grabbed at Howard, who was in the driver's seat, while she was buckled in behind him. She flopped back in the seat of the car over and over, screaming and crying, throwing herself hard against the constraints of the safety belt. "What's wrong? What's going on?" they asked over and over. When they finally arrived at Barb's several minutes later and turned off the car, Carly calmed sufficiently to respond. "You need a seat belt," Carly observed. Sheepishly, Howard acknowledged he hadn't fastened his when leaving our house. — Arthur Fleischmann

About a year before this, K had had several nasty falls, and Jolly had said that either the Alzheimer's or the medicine for it was somehow affecting her balance. Perhaps K's fear of falling made her over compensate and walk hunched forward; perhaps it made her feel more balanced, more in control of her body. Bit it also made her look like hell--almost to the "hump" stage.........(end of quote)

Connie's comment: My dad was aggravated by a physical therapist who tried to re-teach him to walk. My dad did not appreciate someone telling him how to walk. He finally explained to us that he walked hunched over so he would be closer to the ground if he fell. — John West

The Republicans finally got some good news over the weekend. The North Koreans set off a nuclear bomb. Thank God. It was so powerful it knocked the Mark Foley story right off the front page. And knocked him off the page he was on, too. — Jay Leno

You will treat me with respect."
He didn't say anything for a moment.
"What does that mean?" he finally asked.
She looked over at him. "Do I need to explain that, your lordship? I would think an earl of your reputed stature would know the meaning of respect. — Karen Ranney

I was ready to finally acknowledge my complete lack of control over this larger than life connection we shared. I wasn't giving in to him. It was a fight I couldn't win.
It was a fight I didn't even want to fight. — T.M. Frazier

Xas sighed. "But I don't want to talk about God. Why do I? Sometimes I feel God is all over me like a pollen and I go about pollinating things with God."
Sobran opened his eyes and Xas smiled at him. Soban said, "I did think that you talked about God to persuade me you weren't evil. But I've decided that, for you, everything is somehow to the glory of God, whether you like it or not."
"I feel that, yes. My imagination was first formed in God's glory. But I think God didn't make the world, so I think my feelings are mistaken."
This was the heresy for which Xas was thrown out of Heaven. Sobran was happy it had finally appeared. It was like a clearing. Sobran could almost see this clearing - a silent, sunny, green space into which not a thing was falling, not even the call of a cuckoo. Xas thought the world was like this, an empty clearing into which God had wandered. — Elizabeth Knox

And finally - he was neither able nor willing to prevent it - the self-loathing dammed up inside him spilled over and gushed out, gushed out of glaring eyes that grew ever grimmer, angrier, beneath the rim of his cap, flooding the outside world as perfect, vulgar hate. — Patrick Suskind

Always.
In the twilight of the morphling, Peeta whispers the word and I go searching for him. It's a gauzy, violet-tinted world, with no hard edges, and many places to hide. I push through cloud banks, follow faint tracks, catch the scent of cinnamon, of dill. Once I feel his hand on my cheek and try to trap it, but it dissolves like mist through my fingers.
When I finally begin to surface into the sterile hospital room in 13, I remember. I was under the influence of sleep syrup. My heel had been injured after I'd climbed out on a branch over the electric fence and dropped back into 12. Peeta had put me to bed and I had asked him to stay with me as I was drifting off. He had whispered something I couldn't quite catch. But some part of my brain had trapped his single word of reply and let it swim up through my dreams to taunt me now. Always. — Suzanne Collins

My eyes finally make the brave journey up to his. When I see the stoic look on his face, I want to step back, but I'm afraid I'll trip over my heart. I don't want him to watch me fall. — Colleen Hoover

I finally tracked down Derek. He was alone in the library, thumbing through a book.
"Found you." I said on a sigh of relief.
He turned. His lips curved in a quarter smile, gaze softening in a way that did something to my insides, made me pull up short, momentarily forgetting why I was there.
"I-Is Simon around?"
He blinked, then turned back to the shelf.
"He's upstairs. He's really pissed about Andrew so that's probably that safest place for him until we're ready to go, or he'll say something to him we don't want said. You need him?"
"Actually, m-maybe I should show you first."
He glanced over his shoulder, frowning.
"We found something."
" Oh." He paused, like he was mentally shifting gears, then nodded and followed me out. — Kelley Armstrong

That small caress, such a simple show of affection, unleashed something coiled deep within Kenric. In that moment he finally understood what drove men to wage wars over a woman, why a man would give almost anything to possess the woman he wanted above all others. No amount of gold, fame, or glory could come close to arousing the emotions she stirred in him. Nothing else in the world. — Elizabeth Elliott

He got worse as the night wore on. Tessa tried not to think about the wound, tried not to think about what she was going to do if he died and left her alone. Instead, she concentrated on doing what she could to keep the fever down and keep him comfortable, dragging a chair over to the side of the bed when she became too weary to stay awake any longer and dozing in it for short respites.

Toward morning, he began to thrash about on the bed, muttering. She bathed his heated skin again and finally climbed into bed beside him. He quieted when she pulled his head against her breasts and stroked his hair soothingly. — Kaitlyn O'Connor

He who could write so easily, who could spend a thousand words down along his plunging fingers on the green-rubber keyboard of his machine, had stumbled like a first-grader over this single paragraph. A dozen times he had begun it and written into it a naked desperation; a dozen times he had begun it and written into it the frosted mathematics of logic. Finally he'd written out quickly the sentences that kept cropping up in all the versions. Those must be, to whatever censor there was in him, the most acceptable ones. He sealed it without rereading it and went out to mail it. An hour later he despised himself for having sent it. — Laura Z. Hobson

You have the fruit of the spirit in you, because when Christ comes in you everything he is and has comes with him as a seed as a seed as a seed as a seed. If we can ever understand this we can finally get over being confused about what the Bible says we have compared to our experience. Everything the Bible says we have we have it. As believers in Christ it is in us, but it comes as a SEED! The Bible actually calls Christ THE Seed. Capital "S". So, I like to put it like this: When Christ first comes into your life the seed of everything God is comes into your spirit. The Bible says that the image of Christ is captured in us and that we are destined, you have a destiny, a destiny to be molded into his image of Jesus Christ. Your destiny and my destiny is to get out into the world and act like Jesus. — Joyce Meyer

Without a word he started stalking down the street in the opposite direction my grandparents had taken. I started after him, my steps slower.
And then quite abruptly Caine whipped around and marched back toward me. Features etched with determination, he yanked me roughly to him and crushed his mouth down over mine. I made a noise of surprise in the back of my throat before my instincts took over. I couldn't help sinking into his kiss.
When he finally let me go we were both breathing hard. Caine smoothed his thumb over my cheek, his eyes still dark with passion and anger.
I could give a fuck who saw that. — Samantha Young

Grief reunites you with what you've lost. It's a merging; you go with the loved thing or person that's going away. You follow it a far as you can go.
But finally,the grief goes away and you phase back into the world. Without him.
And you can accept that. What the hell choice is there? You cry, you continue to cry, because you don't ever completely come back from where you went with him
a fragment broken off your pulsing, pumping heart is there still. A cut that never heals.
And if, when it happens to you over and over again in life, too much of your heart does finally go away, then you can't feel grief any more. And then you yourself are ready to die. You'll walk up the inclined ladder and someone else will remain behind grieving for you. — Philip K. Dick

And his simple bravery, his quiet pride, finally broke her. She let the cloth slip from her fingers and bent down to kiss him. His reaction was immediate and decided. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, forcing her to straddle his legs. He cradled the back of her head in the spread of his fingers, angled his head for a better fit, and opened his mouth over hers. And, oh, the man knew how to kiss. — Elizabeth Hoyt