Forever His Girl Quotes & Sayings

In his paradise in Lima he had spent a joyous night with a young girl who was covered with fine, straight down over every millimeter of her Bedouin skin. At dawn, while he was shaving, he looked at her lying naked in the bed, adrift in the peaceful sleep of a satisfied woman, and he could not resist the temptation of possessing her forever with a sacramental act. He covered her from head to foot with shaving lather, and with a pleasure like that of love he shaved her clean with his razor, sometimes using his right hand and sometimes his left as he shaved every part of her body, even the eyebrows that grew together, and left her doubly naked inside her magnificent newborn's body. She asked, her soul in shreds, if he really loved her, and he answered with the same ritual phrase he had strewn without pity in so many hearts throughout his life: More than anyone else in this world. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

He lay there and felt something and then her hand holding him and searching lower and he helped with his hands and then lay back in the dark and did not think at all and only felt the weight and the strangeness inside and she said, "Now you can't tell who is who can you?"
"No."
"You are changing," she said. "Oh you are. You are. Yes you are and you're my girl Catherine. Will you change and be my girl and let me take you?"
"You're Catherine."
"No. I'm Peter. You're my wonderful Catherine. You're my beautiful lovely Catherine. You were so good to change. Oh thank you, Catherine, so much. Please understand. Please know and understand. I'm going to make love to you forever. — Ernest Hemingway,

He reached across the car and took my hand. "I know I haven't been around as much," he said, "but after today, my schedule won't be so busy."
"I understand," I said softly. And I did. "Football is your life. It's your dream."
He made a sound. "You're just as important to me."
I smiled. "I have to admit I won't be upset when this game is over and all the girls around here stop wearing your number all over their bodies."
His white teeth flashed. "Is someone jealous?"
I snorted.
His smile grew wider.
"Maybe a little," I admitted.
He lunged forward and in seconds had me in his lap, my legs straddling him so we were face to face. He buried his hands in my tangled disaster of hair. I admit I hadn't even brushed it when we got out of bed this morning.
"You're my favorite girl," he whispered.
"I better be your only girl."
He smiled. "That too. — Cambria Hebert

Thanks, Tink, for being a good brother to me," I say, misting up a bit. "She's a fine girl, and I just know you'll be very happy together." I give him a kiss on the cheek.
"The Brotherhood forever, Jacky," is what he softly says in return, encircling me in his warm embrace. "Forever. — L.A. Meyer

His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy's white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed like a flower and the incarnation was complete. — F Scott Fitzgerald

There is just this moment. This now. I take him back into my mouth. I run my tongue over every part of his cock as if my tongue were a memory machine that will hold this shape inside me forever. I move up and down, finding rhythm, as I had done as a girl skipping with a rope. I want to bite him, chew him all up, swallow him down. He grows tense, rigid. I hear the milling of his breath, the quickening beat of his heart and, when he comes, his sperm is warm and fruity, a hint of the sea, a taste that will stay on the edge of my senses for the rest of my life. — Chloe Thurlow

I really did love you," he said softly. Then he straightened up and his eyes were unreadable. Blank. "But there are some things in this world more important than love. Some things that last longer. Empires. You build something great, something large, something that gets people's attention, and you're remembered forever. You love a girl, give her your heart, and you won't be remembered six years later. Love doesn't last. But empires do. They go on. And on. And on. Even if just in history books. — Karina Halle

A young girl, a frailty, simple and true, who had been unable to stand up from the piano and had had to be carried; a girl half his age; a girl who could not shoot a gun, had never been in an oyster house, atop a tower, or under the wharves; a girl hotter always than noon in August; a girl who knew nothing; had thrown him so hard that he would be out of breath forever. — Mark Helprin

A girl can dream."
His eyebrows rose. "Is that what you dream about? Being a monster?"
"Not exactly," I said, frowning at his word choice. Monster, indeed. "Mostly I dream about being with you forever. — Stephenie Meyer

He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. — F Scott Fitzgerald

I know I shouldn't ask, but I do it anyway. "What you said in that note. Why?"
He looks away for a moment and I watch his jaw clench. When he meets my eyes, there's resignation there. "Because you're not a one-night girl, Irish." Leaning in to place a kiss on my jawline, he whispers, "You're my forever girl. — K.A. Tucker

So, this is me, all of me, forever. No more looking back. No more regrets. From now on, vampire girl-" he lowered his head, brushing his lips across my skins "-I'm all yours. — Julie Kagawa

Loving You
I saw him the other day. His arms around another girl, his eyes when met with mine - were low in their recognition.
I wonder if he remembers what I once told him.
I will love you forever.
He had smiled at me sadly before giving his reply.
But I am so afraid you may one day stop.
Now all these years later, I am the one who is afraid. Because I love him, I still do. I haven't stopped, I don't think I can. I don't think I ever will. — Lang Leav

From the moment he held her, and looked into her eyes, he was a changed man. He'd held that tiny girl in his arms that moment; he would hold her in his heart forever. p. 20 Joe Bristow on being a father — Jennifer Donnelly

On the rare occasions when a reporter asks if a criminal is an immigrant, government officials summarily dismiss the question as if it would be racist to discuss the defendant's nation of birth. Ricardo DeLeon Flores killed a teenaged girl in Kansas after speeding through a stop sign and crashing into two cars. "When asked whether Flores was a U.S. citizen," the local Kansas newspaper reported, "Deborah Owens of the Leavenworth County Attorney's Office said she had no knowledge of his citizenship status."33 Was the Spanish translator a hint? The ICE officials showing up in court? His Oakland Raiders T-shirt? Two families' lives were forever changed by the reckless behavior of someone who should not have been in this country, but the prosecutor refused to tell a reporter that Flores was an illegal immigrant. Owens must have felt a warm rush of self-righteousness, thinking how much better she is than all those blood-and-soil types who want to know when foreigners kill Americans. — Ann Coulter

Again the water rose, they both took a breath; again they were submerged and his leg hooked over something, an old pipe, unmoving. The next time, they both reached their heads high as the water rushed back, another breath taken. He heard Mrs. Kitteridge yelling from above. He couldn't hear the words, but he understood that help was coming. He had only to keep Patty from falling away, and as they went again beneath the swirling, sucking water, he strengthened his grip on her arm to let her known: He would not let her go. Even though, staring into her open eyes in the swirling salt-filled water, with sun flashing through each wave, he thought he would like this moment to be forever: the dark-haired woman on shore calling for their safety, the girl who had once jumped rope like a queen, now holding him with a fierceness that matched the power of the ocean - oh, insane, ludicrous, unknowable world! Look how she wanted to live, look she wanted to hold on. — Elizabeth Strout

Another vampire pushed her way through the crowd to stand at his
side - a pretty blue-haired Asian girl in a silver foil skirt. Clary wondered if there were any ugly vampires, or maybe any fat ones. Maybe they didn't make vampires out of ugly people. Or maybe ugly people just didn't want to live forever. — Cassandra Clare

Once,a boy told a girl : i will stay with you forever, little did she know that his forever is only three months because..he died of cancer! — Amal Sagheer

Turtledoves They walk along together, A couple holding hands And never caring whether The sight of them demands Responses less than seemly: A point, a laugh, a stare. Her hazel eyes are dreamy; He loses himself there. Time melts away, revealing A boy and girl in love. With poplars for a ceiling, Heralded by doves, They stroll the cobbled pathway, A golden life ahead. The vision fades. It's today, And standing there instead, Forever by his side, Is the woman he adores. He cherishes his bride More deeply than before In spite of all the creases, The creaks and silver strands. He knows nothing but peace as They wander, holding hands. Erin McCarty — Jack Canfield

Worse, in the video for it (which is also played everywhere constantly), Boris is singing to a girl who is dying in a hospital bed, and Boris is telling her (lyrically) that he'll give her a million stars (plus his love) if she'll find the strength within herself to not die, and love him forever.
Of course the girl is so moved by this hot rocker dude's amazing song that she doesn't die. Because it is a medical fact that people with fatal diseases only need a hot rocker dude to sit on the edge of their hospital bed and sing them a rock ballad in order to give them the strength to go on living. — Meg Cabot

Our town was too big for people to know everything about you, but just small enough to clench down on one defining moment like teeth on prey. Won the spelling bee in fourth grade? You are Dictionary Girl forever. Laughed a little too hard in sixth grade? You will still be the Guy Who Peed His Pants as you walk across the stage to receive your diploma.

And I was the Girl Whose Boyfriend Drowned. — Emery Lord

This is your idea of a bribe?" Solomon's brow was still lifted.
The Captain laughed roundly. They let her stand there, feeling hopelessly foolish.
"Don;t you want me?" she murmured, almost convincingly.
"Turn around, girl," Solomon spat out.
Now it was she who felt dirty. Roxanne managed to cover herself before the Captain laid his hands on her to drag her out.
Wait!" she cried.
The worst thing Roxanne had ever had to do was beat the body of a filthy, drunken man off her mother with Claude standing nearby, wringing his hands as he witnessed the scene. This was so much worse. This...this would haunt her forever. But she had no choice.
"Wait, please. I do have one more thing." She spoke quickly enough that she could not turn back.
"If you spare my brother," she began, "I'll give you the name of a witch."
This got Solomon's attention. "Now that is worth something. — Sarah Blakley-Cartwright

Right now, baby girl, we have each other. But I want more. I know I don't have to prove anything to you. I know I don't. But I want this union, this bond, this marriage of you and I. I want to show you how devoted I am to you. I need you beside me. You allow me to live, to breath, and to survive. I am not afraid to admit it. I want you to be mine for all of what is forever. Again, will you be my wife?" he asked as his wet eyes sparkled. — Scott Hildreth

Before he left, Julia extended her hand. He took it, pressing his lips to her palm.
I don't regret this, she whispered.
He pulled back. The pain medication seemed to be affecting her thought processes.
What don't you regret, darling?
Getting pregnant. After this is over, we're going to have a little girl. We'll be a family. Forever.
He gave her a tight smile and kissed her forehead. I'll see you in a few minutes. You stay strong. — Sylvain Reynard

He turned his dark eyes on the girl whom he had dreamed of so often over the previous months. Beside him, at that very moment of existence, at the heart of torrential downpour, she was exquisitely real, and she, too, seemed content to go on sitting there forever. — Anna Godbersen

I stole Judy Blume's 'Forever' from my sister when I was eight,' I say. 'I figured if it was by the author of 'Superfudge', it had to be good. Well, I soon realized why she kept it under her bed. I'm not sure I understood it all, but I thought it was unfair that the boy would name his, um, organ, and the girl wouldn't name hers. So I decided to give mine a name.' Rhiannon is laughing. "What was its name?' "Helena. I introduced everyone to her at dinner that night. It went over really well. — David Levithan

I'm hitting the shower," Braeden said and slammed his locker shut.
"Hey," I said and caught him by the shoulder.
He glanced around at me. "You wanna tell me why Rimmel called you before the game?"
Braeden spun. "Did you go through my phone?"
"Did you lie to me about my girl?" I countered.
He wiped a hand over his face. "Fucking A. Don't put me in the middle, Rome."
"You're my best friend, asshole. There is no middle. It's my side."
"Hey now," he said. "Sisters before misters and all that."
"What the fuck does that even mean?" I drawled, amused.
"It means I've taken her on as my little sister. You're her mister. I'm officially in neutral territory. — Cambria Hebert

Roberto is a man, and they always said it and I never believed it, but it's true - a man is forgiven. The girl is always at fault. Forever married. People say, 'Roberto did the right thing.' But that's not what they say about me. I'll never be able to make this right. Never. But Roberto already has. He married me, so his debt is cleared. — Adriana Trigiani

There was knock on the door and I knew it was Romeo. Butterflies took flight in my stomach as I went to answer. I was so nervous about tonight.
Romeo's eyes widened when I pulled back the door. He whistled beneath his breath. "Holy shit, Smalls."
"Do I look okay?" I worried. "Think your mother will approve?"
Romeo reached out and grabbed me by the waist. "You don't have to impress her. I don't want or need her approval. You're my girl. The end."
"No take backs?" I whispered.
He smiled. "No take backs. — Cambria Hebert

He slouched back in his seat, looking tired, and leaned his face on his shoulder to look at me while he played with my hair. He started to hum a song, and then, after a few bars, he sang it. Quietly, sort of half-sung, half-spoken, incredibly gentle. I didn't catch all the words, but it was about his summer girl. Me. Maybe his forever girl. His yellow eyes were half-lidded as he sang, and in that golden moment, hanging taut in the middle of an icecovered landscape like a single bubble of summer nectar, I could see how my life could be stretched out in front of me. — Maggie Stiefvater

"I would've followed you anywhere," he mumbles, his voice raw with agony. "All I ever wanted was to spend forever with my best friend. With the girl who gave life to my paintings. But I'm not the one who inspired your mosaics, am I? It was always Wonderland. That's why you chose him."
"Chose him? It was a kiss, that's all - "
"It's not the kiss. Sometimes words are louder than actions."
"Words ... ? What words?"
"The promise you gave him that you couldn't give me." — A.G. Howard

Mac reflected on the Unseelie King and his concubine:
He'd loved her for all time
After he'd believed she was gone
Sunshine to his ice.
Frost to her fever.
I wished them forever.
You, too, beautiful girl.
The Unseelie King was gone. — Karen Marie Moning

She came forward to meet him, and he saw the familiar fear in her eyes - a fear poignant now beyond enduring because he understood its cause. She blurred before his eyes, and he walked toward her blindly. When he came up to her, his eyes cleared, and he reached out across the years and touched her rain-wet cheek. She knew it was all right then, and the fear went away forever, and they walked home hand in hand in the rain. — Robert F. Young

Romeo appeared in front of us, crossed his arms over his wide chest, and stared at me and Braeden. Braeden didn't seem to mind the death glare he was receiving. "You're looking awful cozy over here with my girl."
"I was just schooling our girl here on the ways of the world," Braeden replied smoothly.
"Our girl?" Romeo repeated.
"Don't get your panties in a twist." Braeden grinned.
I interrupted their macho talk with some talk of my own. "He was asking about Missy."
Romeo grinned.
Braeden dropped his arm from around me and gave me a look of betrayal. "What happened to brother-sister confidentiality?"
I laughed.
"Dude, there's a hot girl in line over there," Romeo said, motioning with his chin. "Go get in line behind her."
Braeden turned and a slow smile spread across his stubbled jaw. "Day-um," he said. "Good looking out, Rome." He held up his fist and Romeo pounded his against it.
"Tutor girl," Braeden said, and then he was gone. — Cambria Hebert

Ara?"
She jerked her face up. "Huh? Where were we?"
But his expression had grown serious, the lesson forgotten. He interlaced his fingers and said, "We are bound."
"Bound?"
He collected a piece of rope, knotting it.
"Oh, you mean bound?"
He gave a nod, then drew in the sand.
An infinity symbol? "Clever demon, how did you know that ... ?"
He was gazing at her with a question in his eyes.
"Bound forever?" And somehow she met his gaze and lied, "Yes, demon. Bound forever."
As if to make her feel guiltier, he gathered her into his arms, cupping her face against his broad chest. His voice a deep rumble, he said, "Carrow is Malkom's."
She wanted to sob.
"Yes?"
"Yes," she answered, wishing that it could be so simple between them. Demon meets girl. Girl might be falling for demon. — Kresley Cole

He was dead; I needed to let his memory go, too. That was the first step for me, before discrimination.
Yet my love was the ghost of a young girl's dream. It walked alone in the abyss, stubbornly, where only illusions prospered on tears and regrets. My love had a life of its own; it was perverted but nevertheless still vital. For that reason, I wanted to return to deep space. Honestly, I would have preferred it if we had traveled forever and never stopped at another star system. To fall into endless blackness, that was my new fantasy.
The young girl with the ancient dream wept. I could hear her; I even saw her tears on the glass of the observation deck. It made me feel old. I didn't want to know her name. I couldn't forget Tem but I needed to forget her. — Christopher Pike

Ronan was a national bad boy now, the wild boy who should not be left alone with virgin debutantes. Only, the world did not know it was Ronan who was the frightened virgin and Emily the drunken temptress on the night in question. He was beyond despair and had lost the will to live. He was a dead man walking, His heart and soul was ripped out of his chest. He would never get his decent girl now, his life was over. — Annette J. Dunlea

Scowling, Scarlet grabbed her aunt by the neck and twisted with one brutal slash. The woman's spine was instantly broken, her body flopping lifeless to the ground. But she could recover from that, and Scarlet had to know. Gideon opened his mouth to tell her she would have to find a way to remove the head from the body, but she beat him to it. She found a way. With her bare hands. That's my girl. "That won't kill her for good, will it?" he asked Cronus, just wanting assurance. Worked for immortals, but he'd never delivered the deathblow to a straight-up god or goddess. "Time will tell," Cronus replied cryptically. Gideon would just go ahead and take that as "bitch was wasted forever." Panting — Gena Showalter

Upon learning that Hall was the man who had invented the typewriter she used so often, the girl put her arms around his neck and gave him a huge hug and kiss. Forever afterward, whenever Hall told this story of how he met Helen Keller, tears would fill his eyes. — Erik Larson

Men still assume I must be like the girl I played in 'Emmanuelle.' John Wayne was never accused of killing people during his free time, but I'm forever stuck with the image of 'Emmanuelle.' The truth is, I should have got an Oscar for that role because I'm nothing like that woman. — Sylvia Kristel

Momma was with the pony last night. Lily and me have him in the mornings, and we give him a wash with the shammy cloths and a soapy bucket so he's ready for Jade to look after him the next night. I think Momma must ride him too rough because he's always sweating and white-eyed when we get him, pulling tight at his rope and spreading his wide beige lips. He won't settle forever and ever, he just turns circles around the stake. Me and Lily get nervy watching him paw scoops out of the backyard soil. — Kirsty Logan

He couldn't believe that you could look up anyone and seek them out, that all you had to do to prove you weren't an orphan was to open a book and point to your parents. It was unfathomable that a permanent link existed to mothers and fathers and lost mates, that they were forever fixed in type. He flipped through the pages. Donaldson, Jimenez, Smith - all it took was a book, a little book could save you a lifetime of uncertainty and guesswork. Suddenly he hated his small, backward homeland, a land of mysteries and ghosts and mistaken identities. He tore a page from the back of the book and wrote across the top: Alive and Well in North Korea. Below this he wrote the names of all the people he'd helped kidnap. Next to Mayumi Nota, the girl from the pier, he placed a star of exception. — Adam Johnson