Getting Him Back Quotes & Sayings

Who the fuck are you? Davy, were you on a fucking date?" Kurt wasn't sure how to express the anger coursing through him without an assault charge, and even though the asshole was no longer kissing or touching Davy, he was getting more irate.

"What the fuck Kurt?"

Ripping his mouth away, Davy panted. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Kissing you." Or perhaps devouring.

"What makes it okay for you to kiss me and not Andrew?" The words weren't a simple question, but a sneering mockery. Kurt's anger returned full force and his hands moved to Davy's hair, yanking his mouth back within easy reach. "You're mine," he snarled before shoving his tongue back in Davy's mouth. — K.C. Burn

Safe? What can be classified as safe? Everything we do in life has a risk. Just getting out of bed each morning can be dangerous. It's not a matter of what is safe, Cooper, it's a matter of what are you going to allow to hold you back." I look down at him over my shoulder and smile. "You going to let some squeaking metal hold you back? — Brandy Nacole

The Canteen Boy, the reason you feel bad for him and you can laugh is because he, and I guess a lot of my characters, they don't notice they're getting made fun of. So they'll say something back that's not that great a quip, but in their mind they won the argument. — Adam Sandler

You let him touch you," Todd observed idly. My eyes widened. "I do not." "Yes you do. Just little touches here and there. He puts his hand on your arm or back, he stands close to you, getting you used to him . . . it's a mating ritual. Like March of the Penguins." "It has nothing to do with mating rituals. It's a Texas thing. People are touchy-feely here. — Lisa Kleypas

This kind of neighborhood did not please him; he had seen it a million times, duplicated throughout the face of the earth. It had been from such as this that he had fled, early in his life, to use his sixness as a method of getting out. And now he had come back.
He did not object to the people: he saw them as trapped here, the ordinaries, who through no fault of their own had to remain. They had not invented it; they did not like it; they endured it, as he had not had to. In fact, he felt guilty, seeing their grim faces, their turned-down mouths. Jagged, unhappy mouths. — Philip K. Dick

He always found it a miracle that anyone wanted his company. Women especially - men will cuddle a rock. When he first started getting laid he couldn't quite believe that the women in his bed weren't there by mistake. Sometimes he'd leave the room and then peer back in, and then peer in again, incredulous that a woman was actually lying there naked, waiting for him. As if. In time he found his thing: fly in like a fool to start, then turn on the silver tongue. Talk and cock, talk and cock, yessir. One time a girl confessed that Vicky, his friend the nurse, had given her a warning before she introduced them. Take one look and if you don't like what you see don't even say hi or you'll end up wanting to fuck. Best thing anyone ever said about him. It didn't matter that they never came back, or rarely. He didn't mind being disposable. — Yuri Herrera

I was flipping back and forth between do and don't quicker than they were serving up flapjacks down at the diner, he was getting closer to me.... close enough that I could smell him.... smell the heat that he threw off and that other certain energy that was pouring off of him right now at levels I'd not seen since Chernobyl. If I didn't move soon, I'd be in trouble... or ecstasy. — Donna Augustine

Perhaps the most overrated virtue in our list of shoddy virtues is that of giving. Giving builds up the ego of the giver, makes him superior and higher and larger than the receiver. Nearly always, giving is a selfish pleasure, and in many cases it is a downright destructive and evil thing. One has only to remember some of our wolfish financiers who spend two-thirds of their lives clawing fortunes out of the guts of society and the latter third pushing it back. It is not enough to suppose that their philanthropy is a kind of frightened restitution, or that their natures change when they have enough. Such a nature never has enough and natures do not change that readily. I think that the impulse is the same in both cases. For giving can bring the same sense of superiority as getting does, and philanthropy may be another kind of spiritual avarice. — John Steinbeck

Taking a deep breath, he got ready to die.
He hoped that Tamara and Aaron had made it past the Chaos-ridden, out the window, and back on the path toward the Magisterium.
He hoped that, since Havoc was Chaos-ridden, the Enemy wouldn't be too hard on him for not being an evil zombie dog.
He hoped his dad wouldn't be too mad at him for going to the Magisterium and getting killed, just the way he had always been warned he would.
He hoped Master Rufus wouldn't give his spot to Jasper. — Cassandra Clare

I tried to remember how Jamie Lee finally took out Michael's gross ass ... she got mad and went bad ass Rambo on him; I didn't have anything to go Rambo with. I wanted to cry. Fear was winning; I needed to get pissed and fight back. I needed to go Rambo myself or I knew I was never getting out of this place alive.-Elyograg — Lorraine Beaumont

Another time, I was at the bar getting a drink and this geezer is stood at the bar with a ciggie in his mouth, trying his best to look rock hard. He takes a drag and points his finger in my face and drawls, 'Don't I know you?'
He was looking snake-eyed at me like a typical big screen gangster.
I stood in front of him and drawled back, 'I don't know, but they call me Richy Horsley,' and then bang, I batter him with a left hook that landed with a strange dull thud. Mr Movie Gangster was stood there leaning against the bar and staring out in to space, knocked out standing up. — Stephen Richards

He leans across the table gripping my wrests, tightly but gently at the same time "I am not kidding you," He says the tone of his voice changes into a bit off a deeper more serious tone "I think you need to watch your back."
"From you," I say to him, feeling my blood rise "Your warning me to stay away from you, and if it wasn't for this exam and for the purpose of getting good end of year twelve results I wouldn't step a foot closer to you then I have to. — Mjroco Hutchin

The West Sister Dating Rules were clear on the matter of apologies. On the evolutionary scale of dating, a guy who apologized solely for the sake of ending the argument and getting back into your good graces was on the level of primeval slime - especially if he was clearly doing so merely because he was hoping for sex. The proper response was to unveil the offender's deceit by demanding he explain what exactly he was apologizing for, and then scorn him when he betrayed his ignorance. — Alex Gabriel

Blood banged inside my head. I loved my brother. I hated him. There was no solution to who he was. No getting back who he had been. — Wally Lamb

I knew there was evil in the world. Death and taxes were all necessary evils.
So was shopping.
"I hate shopping," I muttered.
"Of course you do," Phaelan said. "You're a Benares, [the daughter of a long line of professional thieves]. We're not used to paying for anything." Phaelan was my cousin; he called himself a seafaring businessman. Law enforcement in every major city called him "that damned pirate," or less flattering epithets, none of them repeatable here.
...
"Have you considered something in scarlet leather?" Phaelan mused from beside me.
"Have you considered just painting a bull's eye on my back?" I retorted.
My cousin wasn't with me because he liked shopping. He was by my side because being within five feet of me was a guarantee of getting into trouble of the worst kind. Phaelan hadn't plundered or pillaged anything in weeks. He was bored. So this morning, he was a cocky, swaggering invitation for Trouble to bring it on and do her worst. — Lisa Shearin

Whatever else you set out to do, begin by getting to know God and seeking His will in your life. If you do that, you will find Him. He will lead you. He will bless you. What a wonderful promise! But it is conditional. If you turn your back on the Lord, He will cast you off forever. — James C. Dobson

When she turned away, he caught her hand. He waited until she looked back at him. "I need my weapons. Just in case."
"You won't shoot me. Or stab me. Or throw one of those thingies at me."
"No."
She snorted. "How would you know? You don't know what you're doing half the time."
"Still."
She sighed and began stacking weapons on the bed beside the pillow. "Fine. But I'll be royally pissed if you try to kill me again. It's getting old. — Christine Feehan

Just say, dakhilak."
Without hesitation, "Dakhilak."
He nodded. Her accent was getting no better. "Now, you can never take it back."
"Well, what does it mean? Thank you?"
She should have asked sooner. He didn't turn to meet the gaze he felt on him, his voice full of sand, his stomach sick. "It gives me charge of your life. — V.S. Carnes

Now, of course, having failed in every attempt to subdue the Glades by frontal attack, we are slowly killing it off by tapping the River of Grass. In the questionable name of progress, the state in its vast wisdom lets every two-bit developer divert the flow into drag-lined canals that give him 'waterfront' lots to sell. As far north as Corkscrew Swamp, virgin stands of ancient bald cypress are dying. All the area north of Copeland had been logged out, and will never come back. As the glades dry, the big fires come with increasing frequency. The ecology is changing with egret colonies dwindling, mullet getting scarce, mangrove dying of new diseases born of dryness. — John D. MacDonald

Now don't go getting excited that I'll suddenly notice Hutch in the soft pink light of the sunset and fall in love. He's not the love of my life, and no, we haven't been destined to get together ever since those gummy bears back in fourth grade, just because that's what happens in moves. And don't go thinking he and I become best friends in a Breakfast Club sort of way, either, with me realizing he's got a heart of gold under the Iron Maiden motorcycle jacket, and him realizing that I'm not the slut everyone thinks I am. Yes, that happens onscreen. But forget it. This is real life. He creeps me out. We have nothing in common besides leprosy. — E. Lockhart

You interrogated a man at Hades's compound a year ago. I heard what you did to him. I can't have dead prisoners here; we have to be better than that." "I didn't kill him," I objected, remembering the murderous bastard who'd tried to kill Hades before he'd been caught. Unfortunately we hadn't stopped him from killing his own wife and children. "You took his hands. You know he killed himself in our jail?" "Yeah, well, I'm not going to kill anyone. Just talk. They wanted to kill me back in Southampton, now they want to take me to talk. I'd like to know why. And I heard your prisoner died by getting into a fight with another prisoner." "He walked up to a cave troll and kicked him. The troll tore his head off and threw it fifty feet away. What would you call that?" "Suicide by troll. That's new. — Steve McHugh

Grimalkin sighed loudly, causing me to look back and Razor to hiss at him. "Am I the only one here who has any insight at all?" he said, looking to each of our faces. We stared at him, and he shook his head. "Drawing a blank, are you? Think about what you just said, human. Repeat that last phrase, if you would."
I frowned. "Isn't that where you want to be?"
He closed his eyes. "The next phrase, human."
"With all the other gremlins." He stared at me expectantly, and I raised my hands. "What? What are you getting at, Grim?"
Grimalkin thumped his tail. "It is times like these I am ever more grateful that I am a cat," he sighed. "Why do you think I brought you that creature, human? To keep up my stalking skills? I assure you, they are quite adequate already. Please attempt to use the brain I know is hidden somewhere in that head. — Julie Kagawa

You told me Dorian would fix the world, make it better. But if he's gone, if we made the mistake today in keeping him alive, then I will find another way to attain that future. And another one after that, if I have to. I will keep getting back up, no matter how many times those butchers shove me down. — Sarah J. Maas

He caught me neat, right on the fucking face and I took one step back and thought, you're not getting away with that you bastard! I was punching the piss out of him, he kept going down, but I didn't kick him, he'd had enough. I didn't put the boot in to a man older than myself. But this confrontation was out of the blue, out of the fucking blue. That's what I had to face. — Stephen Richards

You're lying to yourself. Voron made us into serial killers. We can be okay without violence for a few weeks, but after a couple of months, the hand starts itching for the sword. You start looking for that rush. You get irritable, life turns stale, and then one day some fool crosses your path, attacks, and as you cut him down, you feel that short moment of struggle when he leverages his life against yours. If you're lucky, he's very good and the fight lasts a few seconds. But even if it doesn't, that short moment of triumph is like getting an adrenaline shot. Suddenly color comes back into life, food tastes better, sleep is deeper, and sex is rapture.
I knew exactly what he was talking about. I lived it and I felt it. — Ilona Andrews

He dipped his head to kiss her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he slowly lowered her back to the floor. He took his time tasting her lips, her tongue, memorizing the feel of her curves against him. He pulled back and looked into her eyes.
She gripped the front of his shirt, holding him in place. "Don't stop."
"No, no more stopping." He kissed her again, getting lost in the blur of clothes being tossed off, her skin under his fingertips, and the hum of his heart as he fully let himself fall. — Cindi Madsen

The deadweight of his body,coupled with the aches, made him remember back to a time when he'd gotten colds or flus. Same feeling. Was it possible he was getting sick?
Made him wonder if anyone had come up with a product like Dead-quil or some shit.
Probably not. — J.R. Ward

That's it," Flanagan said, his thick hands gripping the bar and his eyes wide. "I'm getting back on the wagon and I'm never getting off again. Oh, Jesus, look at that."
"I'm looking," Jesus said. Flanagan flicked an annoyed glance at him — Kevin Hearne

Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway that led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy and the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a hail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties and sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect, and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a general thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at peace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to his black thread and getting him into trouble. — Mark Twain

Jeremy had a plan for getting Clay back and I wasn't allowed to know anything about it or allowed to help him carry it out. As one might expect, I accepted this news with grace and understanding.
"That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard!" I snarled for the dozenth time that hour.
"I won't just sit here and do nothing. — Kelley Armstrong

I stopped walking and wrapped my arms tightly around him. "You know I can hear your heart."
"Could you hear it breaking when I accused you of getting my cartoon pulled?" he asked.
I held my head back so I could look him directly in the eye. "I didn't pull it."
"You couldn't have," he replied, "because I did. — Elizabeth Chandler

He pulls out the pipe I stole and sticks it between his teeth.
"What do you think?" he asks around the stem. "Do I look noble?"
I snatch it away, and his teeth close with a clack. "Don't you know that will kill you?"
He stares at me a minute, a mischievous light coming into his eyes. Then suddenly he lunges at me.
"Give it back!"
"It's mine! I stole it!"
"I saved you from getting flogged!"
He makes a grab for the pipe, and I roll aside, holding it out of his reach. With a wicked laugh, he tickles my side, and I drop the pipe as I hasten to shove him away.
Aladdin picks up the pipe and brandishes it triumphantly, while I lie in the grass and laugh. — Jessica Khoury

Doing Tim's film is always going to be the most pleasure. Let me just put it that way. So, without drawing favorites one way or the other, getting back with him and doing Mars Attacks! was certainly a special treat. — Danny Elfman

Page 142: "When a spouse says to the alcoholic, "you need to go to AA," that is obviously not true. The addict feels no need to do that at all, and isn't. But when she says, "I am moving out and will be open to getting back together when you are getting treatment for your addiction," then all of a sudden the addict feels "I need to get some help or I am going to lose my marriage." The need has been transferred. It is the same with any kind of problematic behavior of a person who is not taking feedback and ownership. The need and drive to do something about it must be transferred to that person, and that is done through having consequences that finally make him feel the pain instead of others. When he feels the pain, he will feel the need to change ... A plan that has hope is one that limits your exposure to the foolish person's issues and forces him to feel the consequences of his performance so that he might have hope of waking up and changing. — Henry Cloud

Zev nodded. He smiled up at Tatijana as she came to his side. "It's good to see you," he greeted her. "Thanks for saving us out there."
She smiled back at him and sank down into the grass, taking his arm to inspect the damage. "It's getting to be a habit. We can't have anyone killing you, Zev. My sister wouldn't be too pleased. She's hoping to get another dance with you sometime."
"She probably doesn't remember my name," Zev said. "But it's kind of you to say so."
Tatijana laughed. "Silly man. Your name is probably the only one she does remember. She's not very social."
Fen gave a small derisive snort. "The lengths you go to, getting yourself hurt just for a little female sympathy. You know, Tatijana, he really is far faster than he lets on and he could have prevented the knife from slicing him open. He was just hoping your sister would show up and kiss it all better."
Zev sent him a warning glare. "I'm still armed to the teeth, you bastard. — Christine Feehan

[Myne] shouldn't be enjoying the feeling of closeness, of holding someone who didn't belong to him, but damn, this felt good. He didn't get to be with females often, not when his bite caused excruciating pain, and he definitely didn't get to save a life ... ever. Nicole was depending on him in order to survive, and he began to shake with the magnitude of it all. Rike, he whispered to himself. If you come back and don't mate this female before the next daybreak, I'll kill you myself. Of course, that was if Riker didn't kill him first for getting a raging erection for his female. — Larissa Ione

We entered Gettysburg in the afternoon, just in time to meet the enemy entering the town, and in good season to drive him back before his getting a foothold. — John Buford

You are making this fuss because I did not issue a proper proposal?
Very well." He began to kneel and she grasped a fistful of his hair
and yanked him back to a standing position.

He yelped and rubbed his head. "Even you cannot deny that your
background and family connections are less than desirable, yet I am
still willing to do the honorable thing and marry you. — Ally Broadfield

Young men!" he snorted to Erak. "They think a pretty face can cure every ill."
"Some of us can remember back that far. Halt," Erak told him with a grin. "I suppose that's all far behind an old hack like you. Svengal told me you were settling down. Some plump, motherly widow seizing her last chance with a broken-down old gray bear, is she?"
Erak, of course, had been told by Svengal that Halt had recently married a great beauty. But he enjoyed getting a reaction from the smaller man. Halt's one-eyed stare locked onto the Oberjarl.
"When we get back, I'd advise you not to refer to Pauline as a 'plump, motherly widow' in her hearing. She's very good with that dagger she carries and you need your ears to keep that ridiculous helmet of yours in place. — John Flanagan

Biggest case we've had here in five years was when Dan Schwartz got drunk and shot up his own trailer, then he went on the run, down Main Street, in his wheelchair, waving this darn shotgun, shouting that he would shoot anyone that got in his way, that no one would stop him from getting to the interstate. I think he was on his way to Washington to shoot the president. I still laugh whenever I think of Dan heading down the interstate in that wheelchair of his with the bumper sticker on the back. My Juvenile Delinquent Is Screwing Your Honor Student. — Neil Gaiman

I'm so good" I taunt him as i ease back bouncing on my calves like he does, and playfully sticking out my tongue. He totally misses that for hes watching my breast bounce. "real good" he says getting back into position. His eyes have darkened in a way that makes my insides roil with heat, and i decide this moment hes distracted with my girls is better then any. — Katy Evans

Aside from the obvious, Francesca, what do you want in return for supplying information?" Bones asked, getting back to the subject. "You to take me," she replied at once. "Not gonna happen!" I spat, squeezing him possessively. Three sets of widened eyes fixed on me. That's when I realized that what I had a firm grip on was no longer his hand. — Jeaniene Frost

What's he doing?" Mary Lou asked. "What's he doing?"
"Getting a spoon. I was was right-he went out to buy ice cream."
The light blinked out, and Morelli disappeared. Mary Lou and I scuttled across Morelli's backyard and squinted into his window.
"Do you see him?" Mary Lou asked.
"No. He's disappeared."
"I didn't hear the front door open."
"No, and he's got the television on. He's just out of sight somewhere."
Mary Lou crept closer. "Too bad he's got the shades pulled on his front windows."
"I'll try to be more considerate next time," Morelli said, standing inches behind us.
Mary Lou and I yelped and instinctively sprang away, but Morelli had both of us by the back of our jackets. — Janet Evanovich

Sergei knew as many ways to tease a man as he did to kill him. Tonight, he didn't care about impressing him with any hip-centric sex voodoo. The only thing that mattered was getting as deep inside him as he could, fast and hard. Sex wasn't an art form tonight - Dom had tapped into some primal, animalistic side of Sergei, and there was no reining it back in. Not until he came. And Dom came. And they both came again. — L.A. Witt

And in that moment, their situation was clear to him. Their guides were both dead. One machine was gone. Their return marker was shattered. Which meant they were stuck in this place. Trapped here, without guides or assistance. And with no prospect of ever getting back. Not ever. — Michael Crichton

I grab his hand and head for the tunnel, keeping my shoulders back and my head up, because skulking toward the nearest exit like Shaggy and Scooby tinkle-toeing is sure to draw attention. I even bark at some kids to get out of the way. If someone tries to stop us, I won't shoot them. I'll explain that the kid is sick and I'm getting him to a doctor before he pukes all over himself and everybody else. If they don't buy my story, then I shoot them. — Rick Yancey

Gavar tipped back the last of the malt. He should go easy on it, he knew. He didn't want to end up like Father. But lately he'd been feeling the need for a little pick-me-up. He was still getting the headaches that had been plaguing him ever since Libby was born. That was one thing they never told you about fatherhood: the constant worry, and the toll it took. — Vic James

I sit on a man's back, choking him and making him carry me, and yet assure myself and others that I am very sorry for him and wish to ease his lot by all possible means - except by getting off his back. — Leo Tolstoy

I missed my father so much when he died that writing about his life and mine was a way of bringing him back to life and getting me to sort of understand more about him and what made him the father, the husband and the man that he was, and how that made me the man, husband and father that I am. — Dan Hill

"Okay, what'd I do?" he asked.
"Nothing. I'm just tired."
"Uh-uh. I suspected I was getting the cold shoulder earlier, but with everything going on, I wasn't sure. Now I'm sure. You're giving me the look."
"What look?"
"The Maya's-pissed-with-Corey look. Fifty percent disappointment, thirty percent disapproval, twenty percent exasperation. I've done something you're not happy about."
I hesitated, then blurted, "Rafe told me what you said about Daniel."
He frowned. "You're going to need to be a little more specific."
"In Salmon Creek, when Rafe and I started getting together. You told him to back off because Daniel ... " I glanced at the open door and lowered my voice. "Because Daniel likes me." — Kelley Armstrong

[Thoreau's] famous night in jail took place about halfway through his stay in the cabin on Emerson's woodlot at Walden Pond. His two-year stint in the small cabin he built himself is often portrayed as a monastic retreat from the world of human affairs into the world of nautre, though he went back to town to eat with and talk to friends and family and to pick up money doing odd jobs that didn't fit into Walden's narrative. He went to jail both because the town jailer ran into him while he was getting his shoe mended and because he felt passionately enough about national affairs to refuse to pay his tax. To be in the woods was not to be out of society or politics. — Rebecca Solnit

You know what they say about living well as the best revenge. I did well because it was the one defense I had. Escape has been the motivating force in my life. Getting away from him, getting away from her, putting that household behind me. The funny this is, I haven't moved an inch, and the harder I run, the faster I keep slipping back to them ... There are laws for everything except the harm families do. — Sue Grafton

Are we ever getting out of these mountains?" she asked without turning to look at him.
He moved up behind her and put his arms around her.
She leaned back against him. Her hair glistened with melting snow. She felt small in his arms.
"We're going to get out of here," he whispered as he slowly turned her to face him. "Do you trust me?"
She raised her head to meet his eyes and held his gaze for a long moment. "With my life. — B. J. Daniels

Are tou trying to be annoying?" I demanded. My patience was not waning, but entirely gone. "Because if you are, then be assured, you have succeeded."
Jared and Wes looked at me with shocked eyes.
"I am female," I complained. "That 'it' business is really getting on my nerves."
Jared blinked in surprise, then his face settled back into harder lines. "Because of the body you wear?"
Wes glared at him.
"Because of me," I hissed.
"By whose definition?"
"How about by yours? In my species, I am the one that bears young. Is that not female enough for you?"
That stopped him short. I felt almost smug.
'As you should', Melanie approved. 'He's wrong and he's being a pig about it'.
Thank you.
'We girls have to stick together'. — Stephenie Meyer

Jobs's intensity was also evident in his ability to focus. He would set priorities, aim his laser attention on them, and filter out distractions. If something engaged him- the user interface for the original Macintosh, the design of the iPod and iPhone, getting music companies into the iTunes Store-he was relentless. But if he did not want to deal with something - a legal annoyance, a business issue, his cancer diagnosis, a family tug- he would resolutely ignore it. That focus allowed him to say no. He got Apple back on track by cutting all except a few core products. He made devices simpler by eliminating buttons, software simpler by eliminating features, and interfaces simpler by eliminating options.
He attributed his ability to focus and his love of simplicity to his Zen training. It honed his appreciation for intuition, showed him how to filter out anything that was distracting or unnecessary, and nurtured in him an aesthetic based on minimalism. — Walter Isaacson

A huge smile spread across Jen's face."Ahh that was a good one." She turned back to the crowed and yelled again."Rewind. We're going to party like it's 2009, New Year's Eve. If you're curious as to how awesome a party that was, please see me, Jacque or Sally. Sally's version will be much more accurate, and also free of any important inappropriate details." Before she could say anything else, a large hand wrapped around the microphone and pulled it from Jen's grasp. Decebel handed it to Jacque as he growled at his mate and pulled her away.All the while Jen was telling him exactly how much she didn't appreciate him getting all up in her kool aide. She finished by telling him that, once again, she was going to shove her foot where an 'Exit Only' sign should be.

Jen to the audience and Decebel in Beyond The Veil — Quinn Loftis

I grinned at him. 'Jealous?'
He grinned right back. 'That's a trick question. If I say yes you'll accuse me of being paranoid and unreasonable, and if I say no you'll make some defensive crack about how I don't think you're worth getting jealous over.'
This is what I got for hooking up with a lawyer. — Carrie Vaughn

His knees locked and he pushed his weight against Mr. Jones's hand. It wasn't the dim light coming through the skylights or the giant steel fan that waited to chop them up or the smell of urine or the dank-dungeon cells that lined both sides of the aisle that made Danny step back. It was a sense of panic, of fear, that saturated the atmosphere like an electrical current, tingling in his bowels. The boys ahead of him didn't seize up, but they stutter-stepped. Like the end of a ship's plank was dead ahead. Danny felt this type of fear spreading through his groin like cold fingers once before. A memory emerged in the soupy sea of memories inside his head. He remembered getting pulled out of the back seat of a car with his hands cuffed behind his back by someone. But then like everything he tried to remember, there were gaps. — Tony Bertauski

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

His noise is getting quieter, but I can still see it there still-
See how he feels the skin of my hand against his, see how he wants to take it and press it against his mouth, how he wants to breathe in the smell of me and how beautiful I look to him, how strong after all that illness, and how he wants to just lightly touch my neck, just there, and how he wants to take me in his arms and-
"Oh, God," he says, looking away suddenly. "Viola, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
But I just put my hand to the back of his neck-
And he says, "Viola-?"
And I pull myself towards him-
And I kiss him.
And it feels like, finally. — Patrick Ness

He's not your type."
Peabody's face clouded exactly as it had when Eve had rejected the perfume. "How come - I like looking at his type."
"Sure, but try to have a conversation with him." Eve dipped her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels. "Guy's in love with himself and figures every woman who gets a load of him has to go moony eyed - just like you're doing. He'd bore you to death in ten minutes because all he'd talk about is himself - how he looks, what he does, what he likes. You'd just be his latest accessory."
Peabody considered, watching as the gold-tipped Adonis posed at the check-in counter. "Okay, so we won't bother to talk. We'll just have sex."
"He'd be a lousy lay - wouldn't give a damn if you got off or not."
"I'm getting off just looking at him." But she sighed when he took out a small silver-backed mirror and examined his face with obvious delight. "It's times like this I hate it when you're right. — J.D. Robb

Finally, though, I'd leave the room without even taking a sock at him. I'd probably go down to the can and sneak a cigarette and watch myself getting tough in the mirror. Anyway, that's what I thought about the whole way back to the hotel. It's no fun to be yellow. Maybe I'm not all yellow. I don't know. i think maybe I'm just partly yellow and partly the type that doesn't give much of a damn if they lose their gloves. — J.D. Salinger

But always there was the voice at the back of his head telling him that by joining the Rebellion he'd become less of a rebel than he'd ever been. Flying off to assault yet another impossibly well-defended Imperial stronghold. It was getting to be a bad habit. — James S.A. Corey

Sawyer let out a hard, cold laugh. "Really? Well maybe you can sort this shit out for me because I can't seem to do that myself."
Until Sawyer had walked out of that church and found me and Ashton, I'd never heard him curse. Now his mouth was getting as bad as mine. I bit back the smile tugging at my lips. I shouldn't like the fact my perfect cousin was cracking a little ... — Abbi Glines

I found it when I was getting the crushed bees for Merripen's poultice. I brought it back for you." He looked vaguely apologetic. "I meant to tell you about it earlier, but it slipped my mind."
Amelia stifled a laugh. The average man would hardly forget something like a cache box possibly containing treasure ... but to Cam, it probably had little more significance than a box of hazelnuts. "Only you," she said, "could go looking for bee venom and find hidden treasure." Lifting the box, she shook it gently, feeling the movement of weighty objects within. "Blast, it's locked." She reached in the wild disarray of her coiffure. Finding a hairpin, she handed it to him.
"Why do you assume I can pick a lock?" he asked, a sly flicker in his eyes.
"I have complete faith in your criminal abilities," she said. "Open it, please."
Obligingly he bent the pin and inserted it into the ancient lock. — Lisa Kleypas

As we joined the line of people getting off at the last stop before Sofia, I looked once more at the little boy, whom I felt I would never forget, though maybe it wasn't exactly him I would remember, I thought, but the use I would make of him. I had my notes, I knew I would write a poem about him, and then it would be the poem I remembered, which would be both true and false at once, the image I made replacing the real image. Making poems was a way of loving things, I had always thought, of preserving them, of living moments twice; or more than that, it was a way of living more fully, of bestowing on experience a richer meaning. But that wasn't what it felt like when I looked back at the boy, wanting a last glimpse of him; it felt like a loss. Whatever I could make of him would diminish him, and I wondered whether I wasn't really turning my back on things in making them into poems, whether instead of preserving the world I was taking refuge from it. — Garth Greenwell

I get back in the Continental and continue down the road to the cafe. Then I pull in and there's Larry Johnson's '57 Ford pickup in the parking lot. As I enter the little cafe, I see Larry and Briggs in the corner, drinking some coffee and having a late breakfast. I go right over and sit down with them. We don't say much. David says something about Kirby getting a job at one of the studios. Kirby is very good with his hands and can fix anything, plus he has a very friendly personality. We are happy for him. Larry has to make a call and gets up, heading for the pay phone in the corner. He has us get him another coffee when the waitress comes back. Briggs looks at me and asks what I've been doing. — Neil Young

The guy who was punching me was a lot burlier than I was, so it hurt plenty. But I tried to pretend it didn't bother me at all, that I actually liked it. It was hard to do this convincingly, because he had kind of knocked the wind out of me there, so all I could do was smile and wink and give him the thumbs up while I waited to be able to breath again. He thought I was making fun of him and started punching me in the stomach harder. Meanwhile, I'm not any closer to getting my breath back. Some days are like that. — John Swartzwelder

He tried to press the machine into my hands, but I stepped back. He was getting too close, and besides, I didn't know what this meant. Was he trying to sell me the machine? Was he giving it to me? I had heard that in America, if a girl accepted a ring from a boy, it meant she would marry him. What about accepting a tape-playing machine? Did it mean I might have to dance with him? — Minfong Ho

Sylvie's sort of pregnant. Well not sort of. She is. Pregnant. Actually pregnant with a baby.'
'Oh Dexter! Do you know the father? I'm kidding! Congratulations, Dex. God, aren't you meant to space your bombshells out a bit. Not just drop them all at once?'
She held his face in both hands, looked at it.
'You're getting married?-'
'Yes'
-'And you're going to be a father?'
'I know! Fuck me a father!'
'Is that allowed? I mean will they let you?'
'Apparently'
'I think it's wonderful. Fucking hell, Dexter, I turn my back for one minute ... !'
She hugged him once again her arms high round his neck. She felt drunk, full of affection and a certain sadness too, as if something was coming to an end. She wanted to say something along these lines, but thought it best to do this through a joke.
'Of course you've destroyed any chance I had of future happiness, but I'm delighted for you, really. — David Nicholls

Ran into him? Are you not together?"

Cassie shook her head. "No."
Gage contradicted her by saying, "We are. We're getting married."

Cassie leaned into him and hissed. "Would you stop telling people that." She turned back to Sam and gave her a smile. "We're not getting married."

Gage used Cassie's hair to tip her head back again. He leaned over, giving her another kiss before saying, "Sunshine, we are."

Cassie yanked her hair out of his fist and took a step away from him. "Honey limpkins," she said, sarcastically, "we are not. — Sarah Curtis

Do you know the real secret of how Presidents become Presidents?" Before I can answer, he explains, "It's because they're good at getting people to do things for them. In fact, they're not just good at it. They're maestros. Virtuosos. To get that title of President, you need thousands of people doing thousands of different things, all for your benefit. It's a massive churning machine. And y'know what feeds that machine?" he asks. "People like you, Beecher. It's fed with your life, and your family, and your reputation. Because when things go wrong ... and they always go wrong ... the President isn't allowed to have that skunk smell around him. So when that happens, he doesn't just replace you. He crumples you up, tosses you out back, and ... chomp goes the woodchipper. — Brad Meltzer

Billy's one and only moment of candor was when I parked him in front of my computer to play a game. He took one look at the Noah's Ark display and his whole face flinched like someone had hit him. He told me that the snow leopard is extinct. The last surviving specimen died in a zoo a few weeks back. "The snow leopard was my favorite," he said. Then he sat down at the computer and within about 30 seconds he was lost in a realistic prison interior, shooting the guards' heads off, blowing doors open, getting killed. — Michel Faber

DOCTOR AIN WAS recognized on the Omaha-Chicago flight. A biologist colleague from Pasadena came out of the toilet and saw Ain in an aisle seat. Five years before, this man had been jealous of Ain's huge grants. Now he nodded coldly and was surprised at the intensity of Ain's response. He almost turned back to speak, but he felt too tired; like nearly everyone, he was fighting the flu.

The stewardess handing out coats after they landed remembered Ain too: A tall thin nondescript man with rusty hair. He held up the line staring at her; since he already had his raincoat with him she decided it was some kooky kind of pass and waved him on.

She saw Ain shamble off into the airport smog, apparently alone. Despite the big Civil Defense signs, O'Hare was late getting underground. No one noticed the woman.

- 'The Last Flight of Doctor Ain — James Tiptree Jr.

Good dog," Nick said. "That's one of the tricks I've taught him, shaking water on girls so they back into my arms."
"Really! How smart of Rocky - and you, of course."
"That's another thing I've been wanting to tell you," he said, turning me to face him. "I'm tired of getting jealous of my dog. I mean, he has nice eyes, but so do I."
I looked from Rocky's golden eyes to Nick's laughing green ones.
"I didn't enjoy the way Rocky got to stick close to you while I played Holly's boyfriend. He's going to have some competition from now on."
"Oh, yeah? Are you good at retrieving sticks?"
"I'm good at stealing kisses," Nick said, then proved it. — Elizabeth Chandler

Sorry," she said. "I'm kind of hiding. Would you believe that when you're royalty, it is really difficult to find a moment of privacy?" Smirking, Kai shut the door behind him. He kept a hand behind his back as he came toward her. "Might I suggest getting yourself a hooded sweatshirt? It makes a surprisingly adequate disguise. — Marissa Meyer

I did everything wrong," he said. "I misunderstood everything. Moon Child gave me so much, and all I did with it was harm, harm to myself and harm to Fantastica."
Dame Eyola gave him a long look.
No," she said. "I don't believe so. You went the way of wishes, and that is never straight. You went the long way around, but that was your way. And do you know why? Because you are one of those who can't go back until they have found the fountain from which springs the Water of Life. And that's the most secret place in Fantastica. There's no simple way of getting there."
After a short silence she added: "But every way that leads there is the right one. — Michael Ende

The passenger booked by this history, was on the coach-step, getting in; the two other passengers were close behind him, and about to follow. He remained on the step, half in the coach and half out of; they remained in the road below him. They all looked from the coachman to the guard, and from the guard to the coachman, and listened. The coachman looked back and the guard looked back, and even the emphatic leader pricked up his ears and looked back, without contradicting. — Charles Dickens

Genesis began with the Father losing His family. Revelation ends with Him getting them back. Is there nothing to be learned from this sad cycle? Truly, family is the legitimate theme of holy text.
pg vi — Michael Ben Zehabe

When I'm with him, I can feel myself getting better. It's like he's picking up broken pieces of me and putting me back together, and I don't even know he's doing it. We never talk about it. We don't go to therapy. He just loves me and that's enough. — Ilona Andrews

She had hit rock-bottom. She had given a blow job to a man who for all intents and purposes, was a bum. He had smelled so bad, she forced him to spray on some of the perfume she always carried in her purse. Her favorite perfume. After tonight, she was quitting. Yeah, she'd have to go back home with her two kids, grovel to her mama and work a dead-end job, but anything was better than getting down on your knees to give a guy as disgusting as Lenny a one-off. — A.T. Hicks

Mike stood in-line, waiting for the mealtime muck that passed for lunch at his school canteen. He knew he was getting close to the front now, as he tightly held his tray. Not just because he could see this as you might expect, but because he could smell Margery the school cook's body odour. The children at the front were already holding their breath. You could see a line of pink faces close to him, to red, then purple closest to Margery. Only when they left at the end did they breathe for air and turn back to their normal colour again, like a deep sea diver after a long plunge.

"Margery the Meal Murderer" was her name for most school kids. — L.P. Donnelli

So this was how he lived now, getting jittery because a bus pulled up near. Well, he was not going on like that. It was not good enough. The one person who could help him had not appeared. He probably never would. But there must be some other way. He knew that there was another way although for the moment he couldn't think what it was. Soon it would come back to him, in a minute he would remember the way out, the way where he was going. — Anna Kavan

You really want to go out to dinner?" Gabriel shot Rase a skeptical look out of the corner of his eye.
"As opposed to what?"
"Getting on your knees and begging me to beat you." There was no inflection in Gabriel's voice, no heat, and no emotion at all. He wasn't even looking at Rase.
... "I don't want one more than the other," he answered, fully aware that he was being challenged. "They're not interchangeable. I want them both."
Rase took a breath to calm the pounding in his chest and continued, even though Gabriel wouldn't look at him. "I want to go out to dinner with you, anywhere you want, on a date. And then I want to go back to your place or my place and I want you to beat me until I bleed. — Anah Crow

You were having a nightmare. I was the one who put myself in the way of your flailing arms. I knew what I was getting into. I have dealt with children having nightmares before."

"Oh my God, Aunt Lillian," said Jared, and she let him have his hand back so he could scrub it exasperatedly over his face. "You probably give children nightmares," he added accusingly.

Aunt Lillian shrugged, as if conceding that she might have given a few children a nightmare or two in her time. — Sarah Rees Brennan

I had been playing with matches and burned a small rug. I was in the process of covering up my crime when suddenly God saw me. I felt His gaze inside my head and on my hands ... I flew into a rage against so crude an indiscretion, I blasphemed ... He never looked at me again ... I had the more difficulty getting rid of Him the Holy Ghost in that He had installed Himself at the back of my head ... I collared the Holy Ghost in the cellar and threw Him out. — Jean-Paul Sartre

Avery gave a nod here or there as they walked to the back of the tent where his mom sat with Paulie. They'd become fast friends over the last year, Paulie challenging his mom on a level she'd never experienced before. Paulie, for his part, couldn't care less that she was the CEO of a multi-million dollar empire, he treated her like he treated everyone else, and she appeared to love every minute of getting to know him. — Kindle Alexander

What r u doing now?
I'm beating my dad at poker.
Picturing him with his family, I smiled.
Getting ready for bed.
Wish I was there.
My eyes widened. What the what?
Wait r u naked?
No!!! I sent back. Perv.
Damn, At least I have my imagination.
That's all you will ever have.
We'll c.
No you won't. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

But the most terrible thing was that the shame didn't simply sear my heart, it also mingled into a single whole with the pleasure I was getting from what was going on.
It was something quite unimaginable - truly beyond good and evil. It was then that I finally understood the fatal abysses trodden by De Sade and Sacher-Masoch, who I had always thought absurdly pompous. No, they weren't absurd at all - they simply hadn't been able to find the right words to convey the true nature of their nightmares. And I knew why - there were no such words in any human language.
'Stop,' I whispered through my tears.
But in heart I didn't know what I wanted - for him to stop or to carry on.
I couldn't hold back any longer and I started crying. But they were tears of pleasure, a monstrous, shameful pleasure that was too enthralling to be abandoned voluntarily. — Victor Pelevin

They mock Him by denying His very existence, but instead of feeling free, they just feel angry because suddenly life doesn't make sense anymore. They want to be rid of God, and they want life to have meaning anyway, and it just doesn't work and it makes them angry. And anger kills. I've lived long enough to know, and I can see it coming. Anger is going to be right at the heart of the demise of this country. America is going to fall, and when we do, we're not getting back up again. — Ann Tatlock

Wait. I'm everyone!?"
"Now you're getting it," I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
"I'm every human being who ever lived?"
"Or who will ever live, yes."
"I'm Abraham Lincoln?"
"And you're John Wilkes Booth, too," I added.
"I'm Hitler?" You said, appalled.
"And you're the millions he killed."
"I'm Jesus?"
"And you're everyone who followed him."
You fell silent.
"Every time you victimized someone," I said, "you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you've done, you've done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you. — Andy Weir

You know, they never talk about this part of owning a sword in books." "Yeah, and girls don't menstruate in books either." Donovan gaped at me. I grinned back at him. "What? It's true! Ever read a romance novel? Talk about unrealistic! That whole vampire boyfriend thing would be over the second she started getting her period. — Elizabeth A. Reeves

You're important to me, you know," I said, squeezing him.
"I don't understand you, Pigeon. I thought I knew women, but you're so fucking confusing I don't know which way is up."
"I don't understand you, either. You're supposed to be Eastern's ladies' man. I'm not getting the full freshmen experience they promised in the brochure," I teased.
"Well, that's a first. I've never had a girl sleep with me to get me to leave her alone," he said, keeping his back to me. — Jamie McGuire

The main hallway of the Sternwood place was two stories high. Over the entrance doors, which would have let in a troop of Indian elephants, there was a broad stained-glass panel showing a knight in dark armor rescuing a lady who was tied to a tree and didn't have any clothes on but some very long and convenient hair. The knight had pushed the vizor of his helmet back to be sociable, and he was fiddling with the knots on the ropes that tied the lady to the tree and not getting anywhere. I stood there and thought that if I lived in the house, I would sooner or later have to climb up there and help him. He didn't seem to be really trying. — Raymond Chandler

The idea of going back to basketball drills made her stomach tighten, but she stood up on her tiptoes and leaned into Jay, whispering against his cheek. "I got your note last night. Would've been better if I'd have found you in my bed instead."
Jay groaned and grabbed her by the shoulders. There was the hint of accusation buried behind his breathy chuckle as he set her away from him. "You're playing with fire, Vi. You shouldn't tease me at school. Besides, I think if I hid in your room, your father - check that, your mother - would skin me alive."
Violet heard the coach shouting her name, and she knew she'd be getting a demerit for slacking off. But she didn't care.
She flashed him her most wolfish smile. "Next time, you should totally take that chance. It could've been fun," she promised before sauntering away. — Kimberly Derting

Who would care if I became pregnant, who would be scandalized? Aunty Eva, Anwar's flatmates. Omar would never know unless I wrote to him. Uncle Saleh was across the world. A few years back, getting pregnant would have shocked Khartoum society, given my father a heart attack, dealt a blow ti my mother's marriage, and mild, modern Omar, instead of beating me, would called me a slut. And now nothing, no one. This empty space was called freedom. — Leila Aboulela

A hand touched my shoulder, shaking me. I was back on the bus. It was dark and warm and I just wanted to sleep, but Chloe kept shaking my shoulder.
"Tori?" she whispered. "We're at a truck stop. It's Derek. He ... he's not feeling good. It could be the Change again. He needs to get off the bus. I'm going with him."
"Mmmph."
"Are you awake? Did you hear what I said?"
"Yeah, yeah. Derek Changing. You going."
She said something else, but I was already drifting back to sleep. Then she was gone.
I bolted upright in the pool house. Chloe had told me they were getting off the bus. Damn it! I'd screwed up. — Kelley Armstrong

Anthony Bridgerton leaned back in his leather chair,and then announced,
"I'm thinking about getting married."
Benedict Bridgerton, who had been indulging in a habit his mother detested - tipping his chair drunkenly on the back two legs - fell over.
Colin Bridgerton started to choke.
Luckily for Colin, Benedict regained his seat with enough time to smack him soundly on the back, sending a green olive sailing across the table.
It narrowly missed Anthony's ear. — Julia Quinn

If he goes after Sophia's father right after the divorce, then everybody knows he's whacked out
over it." She'd spent some time analyzing it, running theories. "Like if I want to get Theo for
something, I sit back, wait, figure out how to hit him best. Then when I do, he's not expecting it and
doesn't even know why he's getting it." She nodded. "It's scientific, and lots more satisfying."
"The kid's a genius," Ty commented. — Nora Roberts

He finessed his way through it all, playing the "I don't recall" game. He played the same game when asked about how Betty and UD officers had inserted Betty's name on their official visitors' log when it was Monica who actually visited, so as not to betray the president. It was yet another obvious lie on his part. I knew that game. Everyone with eyes could see it. He never recalled how she came to him with letters or papers. There was a back-and-forth on how the Clintons had garnered a lawyer for Monica so she could obfuscate matters and not implicate the president in his defense in Paula Jones's civil sexual harassment case. They discussed how unethical that was, and that's when the president had the nerve to blame the debacle on the information's getting leaked, not that it actually happened. Finally it came down to blaming Monica. — Gary J. Byrne