Quotes & Sayings About How Could You Do This To Me

BENDER: Dying sucks butt! How do you living beings cope with mortality? LEELA: Violent outbursts. AMY: General sluttiness. FRY: Thanks to denial, I'm immortal! BENDER: Damn it, I'm supposed to be perfect. Inspector 5 gave me his blessing! [He pulls out his scrap of paper and looks at it.] How could he bring me into this world knowing I'm gonna die? ZOIDBERG: So you wish you were never born, maybe? BENDER: Yes, anything less than immortality is a complete waste of time! ZOIDBERG: Then suicide it is. Step into my office. I'll give you a nice Kervorking. This — Courtland Lewis

You told me trees could speak
and the only reason one heard
silence in the forest
was that they had all been born knowing different languages.

That night I went into the forest
to bury dictionaries under roots,
so many books in so many tongues
as to insure speech.

and now this very moment,
the forest seems alive
with whispers and murmurs and rumblings of sound
wind-rushed into my ears.

I do not speak any language
that crosses the silence around me
but how soothing to know
that the yearning and grasping embodied
in trees' convoluted and startling shapes
is finally being fulfilled
in their wind shouts to each other.

Yet we who both speak English
and have since we were born
are moving ever farther apart
even as branch tips touch. — Carol Goodman

The guilt of moving on seeps into my life every time I do something I thought I couldn't do without you. Every time I make a financial decision, I take over your job. Every time I fix the washing machine, choose a wallpaper without consulting you, I feel guilty. How dare I function without you! What could you have possibly meant to me if I can function without you? Much less, function well. Every so often I'm overwhelmed with the decisions. In those moments I hate you for leaving me. But I am stronger now, and I like being strong. And for this, I feel guilty. When can I stop proving that I loved you? When will I stop believing that loving you better might have saved you? — Stephanie Ericsson

For the courage of her heart, which I saw face down the greatest horrors I know without breaking. For the high and hungry intelligence of her mind, which never stops asking questions, nor thinking about the answers. For the spark of her spirit, which could teach bonfires how to burn. That's three. Enough for going on with. All this is set beside me, and you ask me instead if I want dirt? I do not understand farmers — Lois McMaster Bujold

How the hell was she going to fight them?
With style. She could almost hear Niko's voice. She grinned, despite herself. Do try not to die, won't you? That was Tyler. It would have been followed by a delicate yawn. And Oz: Keep your head down and don't be stupid. Lise: Bitch, do not even think about leaving me alone with all this testosterone. Giselle: You can't win if you die, so suck it up. Tutresiel: Princess, you aren't even trying if you're dying.
And Alexander: Come home. — Diana Pharaoh Francis

you were the most beautiful thing i'd ever felt till now. and i was convinced you'd remain the most beautiful thing i'd ever feel. do you know how limiting that is. to think at such a ripe young age i'd experienced the most exhilarating person i'd ever meet. how i'd spend the rest of my life just settling. to think i'd tasted the rawest form of honey and everything else would be refined and synthetic. that nothing else would be refined and synthetic. that nothing beyond this point would add up. that all the years beyond me could not combine themselves to be sweeter than you.

- falsehood — Rupi Kaur

You didn't think I really liked you? Do you think I really like you now?"
He turned toward her, uncertainty in his face."You did go quite a lot of effort to be having this conversation, but ... I don't want to read too much of what I hope into that."
Val stretched out beside him, resting her head in the crook of his arm. "What do you hope?"
He pulled her close, hands careful not to touch her wounds as they wrapped around her. "I hope that you feel for me as I do for you," he said, his voice like a sigh against her throat.
And how is that?" she asked, her lips so close to his jaw that she could taste the salt of his skin when she moved them.
You carried my heart in your hands tonight," he said. "But I have felt as if you carried it long before that."
She smiled and let her eyes drift closed. They lay there together, under the bridge, city lights burning outside the windows like a sky full of falling stars, as they slid off into sleep — Holly Black

I'm not helping you kill anybody else. It's just not happening. I'm done.""What makes you think you have a choice?""You know why? I'll tell you. Because we were just kissing in the street, and deep down, I don't believe you could actually blow up my house or kill my sister. I just don't, and she's probably not even in the house anymore anyway, so if you want to go in there and shoot somebody, fine, but you're on your own."Gobi paused, seeming to consider all of this. "What is it that you want to hear from me, Perry? Do you want me to tell you that these are bad people that I am killing tonight? Because they are. They are very bad people. They deserve to die, each and every one of them.""Nobody deserves to die.""Oh, really?""Okay, I mean, maybe people like Hitler and Pol Pot . . . dictators, tyrants, African warlords who starve their people into submission . . . but that guy at the bar wasn't an evil man.""How do you know? Because he had drinks with Hemingway?""I just know. — Joe Schreiber

I have hated you in every hour that has gone by, I hate you so that I would happily give my life for your death, and happily go to my own doom if only I could witness yours, take you with me into the depths. When I let this hate free, I am almost overcome by it, but I cannot change this and do not really know how it could be otherwise. Let no one deprecate this, nor fool himself about the power of such hatred. Hate drives to reality. Hate is the father of the action. The way out of our defiled and desecrated house is through the command to hate Satan. Only so will be earn the right to search in the darkness for the way of love.
In our hatred, we are like bees who must pay with their lives for the use of their stingers. — Friedrich Reck-Malleczewen

Then Olivia came back. She came back, dancing like a siren. I knew exactly what she was doing the night she came to my frat house and cocked her finger at me from the dance floor. If she hadn't come to me, I would have gone to her. Forget all you know - I said to myself. This is the one you belong with. I don't know how I knew that. Maybe our souls touched underneath that tree. Maybe I decided to love her. Maybe love wasn't our choice. But when I looked at that woman, I saw myself differently. And it wasn't in a good light. Not a thing would keep me from her. And that could make a person do things they never thought themselves capable of. What I felt for her scared the hell out of me. It was a consuming obsession.
In truth, I'd barely touched on the obsession. That was still coming. — Tarryn Fisher

I want to know what the hell made you think this was your job to do? Who made YOU the moral compass of us? How could you lay down with the people you've laid down with?? Tell me, 'Director Stark', was it worth it??

Was it WORTH it?!

TELL ME! — Brian Michael Bendis

Maybe I'll get you a painting for Christmas," I said.
"We don't buy Christmas presents for each other," Edward said.
We were both staring at the fireplace as if visualizing that make-believe fire. "Maybe I'll start. One of those big-eyed children or a clown on velvet."
"I won't hang it if I don't like it."
I glanced at him. "Unless it's from Donna."
He was very still suddenly. "Yes."
"Maybe I'll tell her how much you love those pictures of dogs playing poker and she can buy you some prints."
"She wouldn't believe it," he said.
"No, but I bet I could come up with something that she would believe that you'd hate just as much."
He stared at me. "You wouldn't."
"I might."
"This sounds like the opening to blackmail. What do you want? — Laurell K. Hamilton

You were born where you were born and faced the future that you faced because you were black and for no other reason. The limits of your ambition were, thus, expected to be set forever. You were born into a society which spelled out with brutal clarity, and in as many ways as possible, that you were a worthless human being. You were not expected to aspire to excellence: you were expected to make peace with mediocrity. Wherever you have turned, James, in your short time on this earth, you have been told where you could go and what you could do (and how you could do it) and where you could live and whom you could marry. I know your countrymen do not agree with me about this, and I hear them saying "You exaggerate." They do not know Harlem, and I do. So do you. Take no one's word for anything, including mine- but trust your experience. Know whence you came. — James Baldwin

She died."
I had to prompt him.
"Soon after?"
"In the early hours of February the nineteenth, 1916." I tried to see the expression on his face, but it was too dark. "There was a typhoid epidemic. She was working in a hospital."
"Poor girl."
"All past. All under the sea."
"You make it seem present."
"I do not wish to make you sad."
"The scent of lilac."
"Old man's sentiment. Forgive me."
There was a silence between us. He was staring into the night. The bat flitted so low that I saw its silhouette for a brief moment against the Milky Way.
"Is this why you never married?"
"The dead live."
The blackness of the trees. I listened for footsteps, but none came. A suspension.
"How do they live?"
And yet again he let the silence come, as if the silence would answer my questions better than he could himself; but just when I had decided he would not answer, he spoke.
"By love. — John Fowles

Could you bring me to Rita's house before we go to the airport?" I ask. "There's one last thing I need to ask her to do." "That is on the other side of the river," says Ethan."I know. But I need to see her. Please, I'll be eternally grateful." He doesn't say anything, but instead puts the car in gear and starts the engine. After we are driving for about two minutes he asks. "How grateful?" Ah, I see the old Ethan hasn't disappeared then. I smile and lean over to place a light peck on his cheek. "This grateful," I say to him."Hmm, I think you can do better than that," he chides in good humor.
"You're driving," is all I say in reply.
"I can pull over," he answers smartly. — L. H. Cosway

I vowed never to condemn anyone to this life, especially without a choice, as happened to me. No matter how politely we behave, we are still fallen demons, as the legends say. I could never do that to her." Rafe's gaze softened. "Just because you were Changed without a choice does not mean it would be so bad for your duchess. Perhaps she wants to spend eternity at your side." Ian laughed as he pictured an eternity with the vexing, mischievous woman, then he sobered. "I do not think so. She fought with all her tiny being against marriage to me. She nearly ran away to avoid being shackled to my side." "I would not be so certain of this," Rafe said softly. "Feelings change, after all." As — Brooklyn Ann

If you're trying to scare me," I said, "it's working." "I can do a great deal more than scare you." Where do they get this stuff? "Um, if I thought all you could do was scare me, you couldn't scare me, if you see what I mean." "We'll see how funny you are in a little while." I was mildly curious about that myself. — Steven Brust

You could be kidnapping me and trying to do that thing where I grow to love my captors. I've seen it on TV before."
"You caught us. We knew you were going to walk out of the motel at three in the morning and we created this situation to freak you out into loving us. That's how fucked up we are. — Katie McGarry

Lucas tried to be as soft as he could be; it wasn't his natural attitude. "Ambiguous . . . how? Was this a sexual relationship?" "Yes. Twice. I mean, we . . . yes, we slept together twice. When he went away, wherever he went, it's hard to believe that he might be dead, because he was so upbeat when I last saw him. . . . Anyway, I thought maybe the police would ask me about him, but nobody did, and I didn't know what to do about that. I was scared. . . . I didn't know what happened to him, and when he didn't call me Saturday or Sunday, I thought he wasn't interested anymore." "When was the last time you heard from him?" Lucas asked. "Friday night, about . . . nine o'clock," she said. — John Sandford

I read a story about some old opera singer once, and when a guy asked her to marry him, she took him backstage after she had sung a real triumph, with all the people calling for her, asked, 'Do you think you could give me that?' That story hit me right, man. I know no guy ever made me feel as good as an audience. I'm really far into this now, really committed. Like, I don't think I'd go off the road for long now, for life with a guy no matter how good. Yeah, it's the truth. Scary thing to say though, isn't it? — Janis Joplin

Fiyero: "Why is it that every time I see you, you're causing some sort of commotion?"
Elphaba: "I don't cause commotions, I am one."
Fiyero: "That's for sure."
Elphaba: "Oh! So you think I should just keep my mouth shut! Is that what you're saying?"
Fiyero: "No, I'm ..."
Elphaba: "Do you think I want to be this way? Do you think I want to care this much? Don't you know how much easier my life would be if I didn't?"
Fiyero: "Do you ever let anyone else talk?"
Elphaba: "Oh, sorry ... But can I just say one more thing? You could have just walked away back there."
Fiyero: "So?"
Elphaba: "So, no matter how shallow and self-absorbed you tend to be ..."
Fiyero: "Excuse me, there's no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow."
Elphaba: "No you're not. Or you wouldn't be so unhappy. — Stephen Schwartz

In 1995, each cast at The Second City was made up of four men and two women. When it was suggested that they switch one of the companies to three men and three women, the producers and directors had the same panicked reaction. 'You can't do that. There won't be enough parts to go around. There won't be enough for the girls.' This made no sense to me, probably because I speak English and have never had a head injury. We weren't doing _Death of a Salesman._ _We were making up the show ourselves. How could there not be enough parts?_ If everyone had something to contribute, there would be enough. The insulting implication, of course, was that the women wouldn't have any ideas. — Tina Fey

She introduces me to a nurse as the Best Friend. The impersonal article is more intimate. It tells me that they are intimate, the nurse and my friend.
'I was telling her we used to drink Canada Dry ginger ale and pretend were were in Canada'
'That's how dumb we were,' I say.
'You could be sisters,' the nurse says.
So how come, I'll bet they are wondering, it took me so long to get to such a glorious place? But do they ask?
They do not ask.
Two months, and how long is the drive?
The best I can explain it is this - I have a friend who worked one summer in a mortuary. He used to tell me stories. The one that really got to me was not eh grisliest, but it's the one that did. A man wrecked his care on 101 going south. He did not lose consciousness. But his arm was taken down to the bone - and when he looked at it - it scared him to death.
I mean, he died.
So I hadn't dared to look any closer. But now I'm doing it - and hoping that I will live through it. — Amy Hempel

Can you spare me the veteran hockey player wisdom?" Lane leaned in again.

"Sure. But let me tell you something, pipsqueak." At Lane's angry glare, Jared kissed him again. "You weren't on my team, and you weren't my captain, but you taught me how to love this game again. You showed me it was ok to think more of myself than I did and believe I could do more than throw my fists around. You gave me back something I didn't even realize that I'd lost."

"You're saying it's my fault you made a sick glove save on me?"

"It was pretty sick. Wasn't it?" Jared agreed, unable to help himself. But he smiled at Lane and kissed him. — Avon Gale

I can't believe you were dying and your last act was to think to free me." Nashira
"Well, I just figured out how to do it. But I wasn't completely sure it would work. I wanted to ask Caleb about it, then he got sick before I could. And all this other crap happened. Since I was dying, I figured it was worth a shot before I went. No need in you being trapped in there for the rest of eternity if you could go free." Nick
"And that is why we worked together to save your life. Why we have watch over you and worried that you wouldn't pull through." Nashira — Sherrilyn Kenyon

He'll be cross if he sees I have been crying. They don't like you to cry. He doesn't cry. I wish to God I could make him cry. I wish I could make him cry and tread the floor and feel his heart heavy and big and festering in him. I wish I could hurt him like hell.
He doesn't wish that about me. I don't think he even knows how he makes me feel. I wish he could know, without my telling him. They don't like you to tell them they've made you cry. They don't like you to tell them you're unhappy because of them. If you do, they think you're possessive and exacting. And then they hate you. They hate you whenever you say anything you really think. You always have to keep playing little games. Oh, I thought we didn't have to; I thought this was so big I could say whatever I meant. I guess you can't, ever. I guess there isn't ever anything big enough for that. — Dorothy Parker

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch's voice. "You could do a lot worse." At this moment, it's impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift ... it is perfect. So when I rise up on my tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn't seem forced at all. — Suzanne Collins

You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you've committed. And I know this because I've been doing the same damn thing for two hundred years. Tell me, do you think you will go to some blessed Afterworld, or do you expect a burning hell? You're hoping for hell
because how could you face them in the Afterworld? Better to suffer, to be damned for eternity and
— Sarah J. Maas

The writers I most enjoy reading, even in gritty, down-to-earth genres, have a touch of the poet in them; they can create original, evocative images and make words do things they hadn't known they could. Writing my first novel left me feeling that the most important quality for a writer is empathy, the ability to see the world through the eyes of someone from a vastly different background. Especially, to create engaging villains, you have to see how the world makes sense from their point of view, even if it's the polar opposite of yours. For me, a good villain is one who makes the reader ask, "If I had the same experience as this person, can I be absolutely sure I wouldn't have done the same things? — Charles Kowalski

How could you let him do this? (Shahara)
I know you're not going to pin this on me, Shay. I didn't raise the embryo. You did. It's what you get for teaching him things like honor, love, courage, and loyalty. If you'd left him a scared little snot-nose, he'd still be living in your basement. (Vik) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

?-: Yes, I must say, that part distressed me a bit. I had no idea girls could do that ...
(JUNE and RUTH look at him.)
RUTH: Do what, exactly?
?-: Be nude. I thought they just spontaneously combusted or something if they even tried taking off their sweaters.
JUNE: But, how did you think we bathed?
?-: I just assumed you just never got dirty, with the exception of your hair. You know, cause girls are always washing their hair ...
JUNE: But this is ridiculous. How did you think sex happened?
?-: To be honest, I'd never really thought about sex. Oh, dear ... Am I going to have to do that someday? Are we? I need to read up on this.
(He takes out a memorandum and begins scribbling.) — Benjamin R. Smith

I must own, too, that I can't be astonished at his being vexed to death over this business. It is excessively awkward! However, he doesn't lay the blame for that at my door: you mustn't think that!"
"I should think not indeed!" exclaimed Anthea between amusement and indignation. "How could he possibly do so?"
"No, very true, my love!" agreed Mrs Darracott. "I thought that myself, but it did put me on the fidgets when Richmond said he wanted to see me, because in general, you know, things I never even heard about turn out to be my fault. — Georgette Heyer

When alone in a dark forest waiting for an audience with an evil god, the most prudent course of action is to be quiet and wait. 'Prudent' wasn't one of my favourite words.
"Hello? I've come to borrow a cup of sugar. Anybody? Perhaps there is an old woman with a house made of candy who could help me?"
"Marrying for love isn't wise."
The voice came from somewhere to the left. Melodious, but not soft, definitely female and charged with a promise of hidden power. Something told me that hearing her scream would end very badly for me.
I stopped and pivoted toward the voice.
"Marry for safety. Marry for power. But only fools marry for love."
When a strange voice talks to you in the black woods, only idiots answer.
I was that idiot. "Thank you, counsellor. How much do I owe you for this session? — Ilona Andrews

Is that all?" asked the butler. His slightly melodic accent was nearly impossible to place. It could have been British, but it wasn't any British accent I had ever heard. The words Old English came to mind, too. As in old, old English. This, I'm certain, was a psychic hit, but I could have been wrong. Just how old Franklin was remained to be seen. "Thank you, Franklin. That will be all," said Kingsley, waving him off. The butler nodded. "If you and the lady need anything else, please do not hesitate to rouse me from a deep and satisfying sleep." "We won't, Franklin. Now, off you go! — J.R. Rain

Simon: You're in a dangerous line of work, Jayne. Odds are you'll be under my knife again, often. So I want you to understand one thing very clearly: No matter what you do or say or plot, no matter how you come down on us, I will never, ever harm you. You're on this table, you're safe ... 'cause I'm your medic. And however little we may like or trust each other, we're on the same crew. Got the same troubles, same enemies, and more than enough of both. Now, we could circle each other and growl, sleep with one eye open, but that thought wearies me. I don't care what you've done, I don't know what you're planning on doing, but I'm trusting you. I think you should do the same. 'Cause I don't see this working any other way.
River: Also, I can kill you with my brain. — Ben Edlund

I don't mean to insinuate that you are unfeeling or stifled of life ... excuse me on
that one. I just meant to ask you how you breathe when you are down here reading or
writing."
He smiled. "I have five years more experience in breathing on this earth than you. I
know when it is I can breathe and when it is I can't and I know just what to do when
such a thing as suffocation occurs."
I can't believe it, there is actually a qualitative property to every breath
taken ... That must be wonderful. You must also know your cells are degenerating five
years faster than mine."
He smiled again, the same relaxed annoying way. "I get that you find it amusing to
liken me to my cadavers. It's not the first time you've done it, but truly we are not in
lieu to play smart."
I was wondering if you could call the cadaver of a smart man, a smart cadaver. I've
always wondered. — Dew Platt

Life is short, and that's why, I don't test people; because we all fail tests sometimes, but that is supposed to be okay! I don't play games with people; because people aren't toys. And I don't risk what I don't want to lose; because if I do lose it, it's definitely my loss and not theirs! How short is life, you ask me. Well, life is as short as one drop in eternity. I swim in a single drop in this basin of eternal waters, and after that drop evaporates, it's gone! But then you could argue that if life is just a drop, then why even bother? Well, yes it is a drop, but it's a meaningful drop, an unforgettable drop, and a beautiful one! It's so unforgettable, that when you come back again, if you choose to, you will remember it in your dreams at night! So you see, I don't test people, I don't play games, and I don't risk who and what I don't want to lose. — C. JoyBell C.

It is a long way to Ireland, Janet, and I am sorry to send my little friend on such weary travels: but if I can't do better, how is it to be helped? Are you anything akin to me, do you think, Jane?"
I could risk no sort of answer by this time: my heart was still.
"Because, he said, "I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you - especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land some broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, - you'd forget me. — Charlotte Bronte

No sketches first, no studies, that's long past:
I do what many dream of, all their lives,
--Dream? strive to do, and agonize to do,
And fail in doing. I could count twenty such
On twice your fingers, and not leave this town,
Who strive--you don't know how the others strive
To paint a little thing like that you smeared
Carelessly passing with your robes afloat,--
Yet do much less, so much less, Someone says,
(I know his name, no matter)--so much less!
Well, less is more, Lucrezia: I am judged.
There burns a truer light of God in them,
In their vexed beating stuffed and stopped-up brain,
Heart, or whate'er else, than goes on to prompt
This low-pulsed forthright craftsman's hand of mine.
Their works drop groundward, but themselves, I know,
Reach many a time a heaven that's shut to me,
Enter and take their place there sure enough,
Though they come back and cannot tell the world. — Robert Browning

Now, this is where I draw the line! It's bad enough everybody in town's going to be thinkin' I'm sleeping with a depressed, lice-ridden, hemorrhoidal foreigner who likes to be tied up and might be pregnant, although-since she's just about cornered the market on condoms-I don't know how that could have happened. But I will not-you listen to me, Emma!-I absolutely will not have anybody thinkin' a woman of mine needs a vaginal moisturizer, do you hear me? — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Lady Kingsley, when you read this, do attempt to keep an open mind."

"I will if you will," she retorted hotly.

To her surprise, he chuckled. "I daresay neither of us will. It's a pity, too, because if we could ever see our way clear to agreeing on a matter, we might accomplish a great deal of good in this world."

It infuriated her that he could pretend to care even one whit for these boys. "Now you've confused me. I'd assumed that your reason for serving on so many charitable boards was to further your political aims. Yet all the time you were merely hoping to accomplish some 'good in this world.' How very astonishing."

Just that quickly, his amusement vanished. "While I don't pretend to be as morally superior as you and your late husband, my intentions are good, no matter what you make of them. It may shock you to learn that those of us with character flaws sometimes do as much good as those of you without. — Sabrina Jeffries

Look, I have no idea what's going on," I said, catching my breath. "I don't like myself either. I don't know what's happening to me. I don't want to tell you to fuck off. But you gotta understand, everything in my life feels different. I just want so badly to know if you like me. And I know how asinine that sounds. If you want me to leave you alone, I will, but sometimes ... sometimes you meet somebody and you know that whatever you did before, whatever your life was before, it must have been right ... nothing could've been too bad or gone too far wrong because it led you to this person. You're that person. Do you want me to go away? — Ethan Hawke

"You're thinking too much, as usual," I said.
A dismissive snort as he got to his feet. He tried running again, and didn't fall, but did more lurching than loping, his legs threatening to tangle at every step.
"Apparently this could take a while, so how about you practice and I'll head back to the house - "
He darted past me and veered to block my path.
I smiled. "I knew that'd work. So as I right? It's better when you act, not think?"
A sigh whistled out of his nostrils, condensation hanging in the frigid air.
"You hate that, don't you? We should keep a scorecard, see who's right more often: me or you."
He rolled his eyes.
"Not a chance, huh? You'd never live it down if I beat you. But I am right this time. Your body knows how to move as a wolf. You just need to shut your brain off and let your muscles do their thing." — Kelley Armstrong

Only, this was the thing: you'd provided me with the possibility of getting away from myself and making myself at home in another world. You were like a messenger from that world. With you, I could give my real self a rest. You were part and parcel of that dissolving of reality - myself included - that I'd been working on for seven or eight years through writing. For me, you were the herald out in front who showed me how to put the menacing world on hold. In that world I was a refugee whose existence was not legitimate, whose future never went beyond the three months of a temporary visa. I had no desire to come back to earth. I'd found a refuge in a magical experience and I wasn't about to let it get dragged down into reality. As far back as I can remember, I'd always sought not to exist. You've had to work for years on end to get me to accept the fact that I do exist. And I really don't think your work is over yet. — Andre Gorz

Never mind Phil and the violets just now, Anne," said Gilbert quietly, taking her hand in a clasp from which she could not free it. "There is something I want to say to you." "Oh, don't say it," cried Anne, pleadingly. "Don't - PLEASE, Gilbert." "I must. Things can't go on like this any longer. Anne, I love you. You know I do. I - I can't tell you how much. Will you promise me that some day you'll be my wife?" "I - I can't," said Anne miserably. "Oh, Gilbert - you - you've spoiled everything." "Don't you care for me at all?" Gilbert asked after a very dreadful pause, during which Anne had not dared to look up. "Not - not in that way. I do care a great deal for you as a friend. But I don't love you, Gilbert." "But can't you give me some hope that you will - yet?" "No, I can't," exclaimed Anne desperately. "I never, never can love you - in that way - Gilbert. You must never speak of this to me again." There — L.M. Montgomery

The whole article, quite a long and verbose one, was written with the sole purpose of self-display. One could simply read it between the lines: "Pay attention to me, look at how I was in those moments. What do you need the sea, the storm, the rocks, the splintered planks of the ship for? I've described it all well enough for you with my mighty pen. Why look at this drowned woman with her dead baby in her dead arms? Better look at me, at how I could not bear the sight and turned away. Here I am turning my back; here I am horrified and unable to look again; I've shut my eyes - interesting, is it not?" I — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Writing is something that you don't know how to do. You sit down and it's something that happens, or it may not happen. So, how can you teach anybody how to write? It's beyond me, because you yourself don't even know if you're going to be able to. I'm always worried, well, you know, every time I go upstairs with my wine bottle. Sometimes I'll sit at that typewriter for fifteen minutes, you know. I don't go up there to write. The typewriter's up there. If it doesn't start moving, I say, well this could be the night that I hit the dust. — Charles Bukowski

It needs to be said. I didn't have the strongest stomach. I wasn't the type of guy who could hold your hair while you puked and not be affected. Did that make me the worst possible boyfriend ever? Maybe. It's entirely possible I'd throw you a towel and run out of the room gagging. I know it's romantic to women - oh, my gosh, he's so sweet he held my hair while I puked up last night's hot dog and enough rum and Diet Coke to kill Captain Jack Sparrow! Seriously? What do you women read? How the hell is that romantic? Give me one reason. One. Just one. I don't even need three. Oh, wow, silence, big shock. You wanna know why? Because it's gross. Because if I had long hair and I were leaning over the toilet, God, you would not, ever, in your right mind waltz into the bathroom, put it in a ponytail, rub my back, wipe my mouth, and think, Wow, I really love this guy, oh, look a cracker! — Rachel Van Dyken

That's what you like in a girl: cute and sad, with enough disorders that you could count them to fall asleep. The kind you can show off at parties as the latest broken thing you fixed. Where will you hang your awards for loving someone who can't walk in a straight line without being supported? Is there room next to your collection of glasses you shattered by holding them too tightly? The blood on your hands does not make you a martyr. Do not curse when your hammers do nothing but scar her. Do not use your words to remind her that everybody else would have left by now. If she could speak, she would tell you: you think it's beautiful to love somebody as light as me but you don't know how heavy I had to be to become this empty. — Lora Mathis

Time went by and there wasn't even sadness.
"You know how another patient put it? She said this feeling inside her was . . . it was anti-feeling. Like a black hole in space, and everything - happiness, anger, hope, meaning - it would all get sucked in, tipped over the event horizon, and she couldn't feel any of it. That's the way it was for me. I walked around like everyone else, and had this wonderful opportunity at the museum, and came home to this brilliant guy who loved me and was nothing but sweet. Your father tried so hard. But I felt . . . empty. If I could've filled that space up with anything, I would've. If somebody had turned to me and said, 'It's easy, just pour some dry cement in there and you'll be a normal human girl,' I would've done it like that." She snaps her fingers. "But I couldn't. And your father couldn't do it for me. — Rebecca Podos

Dad always said this town could wreck a person, it's what happens when you're playing a rigged game. I convinced myself winning meant getting out.
But in what world do you get to leave the ring and declare victory? This is where I belong, in the fight. It's who I am.
I've rolled around in the mud for so long, wash me clean and I don't recognize myself. So how about I just accept the mud and the tendency I have to find myself rolling in it. My name is Veronica and I'm an addict. Hello Veronica. — Rob Thomas

A woman's reputation is her worth ... IT is the way it is. You may hate me for saying so, but there is the truth. Do you not remember that this is how our mother died? She would still be here and Father would be well and none of this would ever have happened if she had simply lived according to the time-trusted codes of society.'
Perhaps it proved impossible. Perhaps she could not fit within so tight a corset. Perhaps I am the same.'
One does not have to like the rules, Gemma. But one does need to adhere to them. That is what makes civilization. Do you think I agree with every ... decision made by my superiors — Libba Bray

Naoko took her left hand from her pocket and squeezed my hand. 'Don't you worry,' she said. 'You'll be O.K. You could go running all around here in the middle of the night and you'd never fall into the well. And as long as I stick with you, I won't fall in, either.'
Never?'
Never!'
How can you be so sure?'
I just know,' she said, increasing her grip on my hand and continuing on for a ways in silence. 'I know these things. I'm always right. It's got nothing to do with logic: I just feel it. For example, when I'm really close to you like this, I'm not the least bit scared. Nothing dark or evil could ever tempt me.'
Well, that answers that,' I said. 'All you have to do is stay with me like this all the time. — Haruki Murakami

I am always hearing ... the sound of a far off song. I do not exactly know where it is, or what it means; and I don't hear much of it, only the odour of its music, as it were, flitting across the great billows of the ocean outside this air in which I make such a storm; but what I do hear, is quite enough to make me able to bear the cry from the drowning ship. So it would you if you could hear it.'
'No it wouldn't,' returned Diamond stoutly. 'For they wouldn't hear the music of the far-away song; and if they did, it wouldn't do them any good. You see you and I are not going to be drowned, and so we might enjoy it.'
'But you have never heard the psalm, and you don't know what it is like. Somehow, I can't say how, it tells me that all is right; that it is coming to swallow up all the cries ... It wouldn't be the song it seems if it did not swallow up all their fear and pain too, and set them singing it themselves with all the rest. — George MacDonald

Do you remember when I told you that I sometimes believe that you're not real? That I imagined you just to hurt myself?" Reed says softly with a bitterly self-effacing laugh that has nothing to do with humor. "I know now that you have to be real. This kind of pain cannot exist if you were imaginary," Reed's sexy voice breathes. I feel like I could reach out and touch him, he feels that close to me. "I know you exist, but you're like a sunset to me now - beautiful and so distant that no matter how fast I fly, I cannot reach you. You are always on the next horizon," Reed says sadly, and my breath catches in my throat as an unbelievable ache throbs in my chest. "Tel me where you are. I wil meet you
wherever you are in the world. I wil be there. Just you and me, I swear it. We don't have to endanger anyone else
we'l make sure Buns and Brownie and Zephyr are safe. Just you and me, I promise ... I wil meet you anywhere at anytime ... I wil ... — Amy A. Bartol

I want to kiss you."
It was rather magical, she thought, how those five simple words, said in his lovely deep voice, could set her aflame, like a lamp tipped over and burning up everything in sight. She said:
"Well, kiss me then."
"How imperious you are." He smiled, came close, and set his hand gently under her chin. He bent and touched his lips to hers, lightly, sweetly, and it was as if her whole being rushed to meet him in his kiss. It was light, sweet, tender, caressing, demanding, and fiery hot all at once. How did he do that? There was absolutely no doubt about it. He was an excellent kisser. She could easily get used to this. — Lisa Berne

Don't come near me with those," Annabelle said firmly. She shook her head with a grin, watching as Evie solemnly held up her own arms for Lillian to cut holes beneath her sleeves. This was one of the things she most adored about Evie, who was shy and proper, but often willing to join in some wildly impractical plan or adventure. "Have you both lost your minds?" Annabelle asked, laughing. "Oh, what a bad influence she is on you, Evie."

"She's married to St. Vincent, who is the worst possible influence," Lillian protested. "How much damage could I do after that? — Lisa Kleypas

In the art of love," she said thoughtfully, "you are the best I've ever seen. You are stronger than others, more agile, more willing. Well have you learned my art, Siddhartha. Some day, when I am older, I wish to bear your child. And yet all this time, beloved, you have remained a Samana. Even now you do not love me; you love no one. Is it not so?" "It may be so," Siddhartha said wearily. "I am like you. You, too, do not love - how else could you practice love as an art? Perhaps people of our sort are incapable of love. The child people can love; that is their secret. — Hermann Hesse

You think I like this?" I say defensively. "Trust me, I don't need this headache in my life." I swallow a mouthful of beer. "Hey. You know Twilight?" He blinks. "Excuse me?" "Twilight. The vampire book." His wary eyes study my face. "What about it?" "Okay, so you know how Bella's blood is extra special? Like how it gives Edward a raging boner every time he's around her?" "Are you fucking with me right now?" I ignore that. "Do you think it happens in real life? Pheromones and all that crap. Is it a bullshit theory some horndog dreamed up so he could justify why he's attracted to his mother or some shit? Or is there actually a biological reason why we're drawn to certain people? Like goddamn Twilight. Edward wants her on a biological level, right?" "Are you seriously dissecting Twilight right now?" God, I am. This is what Allie has reduced me to. A sad, pathetic loser who goes to a bar and forces his friend to participate in a Twilight book club. — Elle Kennedy

He has demonstrated how the very worst thing that has ever happened in the history of the world ended up resulting in the very best thing that has ever happened in the history of the world." "What do you mean? "I'm referring to dei-cide," he replied. "The death of God himself on the cross. At the time, nobody saw how anything good could ever result from this tragedy. And yet God foresaw that the result would be the opening of heaven to human beings. So the worst tragedy in history brought about the most glorious event in history. And if it happened there - if the ultimate evil can result in the ultimate good - it can happen elsewhere, even in our own individual lives. Here, God lifts the curtain and lets us see it. Elsewhere he simply says, 'Trust me. — Lee Strobel

With a whisper, Ash asked Shadow, "But why do you live this way? With him, in this kind of role?" In an Aaback fashion, the creature grinned. Then Shadow peered over the edge of the canyon, speaking to no one in particular when he explained, "He needs me so much. This is why." "As a servant?" "And as a friend, and a confidant." With a very human shrug, he asked Ash, "How could anyone survive even a single day, if he didn't feel as if he was, in some little great way, needed? — Robert Reed

wax and seemed dumbfounded by the accident. Next thing he wanted to know 'how long it would take to' . . . I interrupted him again. Being hungry, you know, and kept on my feet too, I was getting savage. 'How could I tell,' I said. 'I hadn't even seen the wreck yet - some months, no doubt.' All this talk seemed to me so futile. 'Some months,' he said. 'Well, let us say three months before we can make a start. Yes. That ought to do the affair.' I flung out of his hut (he lived all alone in a clay hut with a sort of veranda) muttering to — Joseph Conrad

I have never thought you weren't good enough for me. The fear I always had, deep down in my heart, is that I'm not good enough for you."
Murmurs of astonishment rippled through the room but he didn't seem to notice.
"You see, I was never the one who could make you laugh." He glanced at Lawrence, then back at her.
"I was never the one who made coronets of rosebuds for your hair and told you that you were pretty."
He swallowed hard, and his chin lifted a notch, telling her as clearly as any word how difficult it was for him to reveal himself this way.
"I always wanted to say those things, do those things, but I couldn't, for a gentleman is not supposed to behave that way. A gentleman is not supposed to fall in love with the chef's daughter. But right now, today, I don't give a damn what gentlemen do. I'm just a man, and the only thing I care about is you. — Laura Lee Guhrke

What if I can't do this, Gregori?" She sounded close to tears. "What if I can never do this?"
"No one is making you do anything, ma petite," he replied gently, kissing her stomach. "We are just exploring possibilites."
"But,Gregori," she tried to protest, attempting to bring his head back up so that he could see her very real fear for him, for their life together.
"If I cannot persaude you otherwise, mon amour, I am not much of a lifemate, now am I?" The words were muffled in the tight silky curls, the intriguing little triangle at the apex of her thighs.
"You don't understand,Gregori." Savannah closed her eyes against the waves of fire racing through her. "It's me who is no real lifemate.I don't know how to please you, and I'm so afraid of this."
"Relax,bebe." He breathed warm air against her, inhaled her scent. "You please me far more than you will ever know. — Christine Feehan

I loved Emma.' The words, so flat and final, explode into the air. 'But she lied to me. I thought perhaps I could have the love without the lies. With you, I mean. Do you remember your application letter? How you talked about integrity and honesty and trust? That was what made me think it might work, that it might be better this time. But I've never loved you the way I loved her. — J.P. Delaney

"GG BE." I expressed how a guy's love for his woman is dying out because he is tired of how she lies to him all the time. And the woman in the song is waiting for me to break up with her. You know how some people prefer to get dumped than do the dumping, right? I expressed all this, which could happen to anyone, in a Seungri-like way. — Seungri

Sophie dear,' I said. 'Are you in love with him - with this spider-man?'
'Oh, don't call him that - please - we can't any of us help being what we are. His name's Gordon. He's kind to me, David. He's fond of me. You've got to have as little as I have to know how much that means. You've never known loneliness. You can't understand the awful emptiness that's waiting all round us here. I'd have given him babies gladly, if I could ... I - oh, why do they do that to us? Why didn't they kill me? It would have been kinder than this ... '
She sat without a sound. The tears squeezed out from under the closed lids and ran down her face. I took her hand between my own.
I remembered watching. The man with his arm linked in the woman's, the small figure on top of the pack-horse waving back to me as they disappeared into the trees. Myself desolate, a kiss still damp on my
cheek, a lock tied with a yellow ribbon in my hand. I looked at her now, and my heart ached. — John Wyndham

I snapped my teeth at him making him retract his fingers to a safe distance away from my choppers. I grinned as I turned around and made a move to grab my duvet so I could shake it out and make my bed, only to find I couldn't because Storm was lying on top of it.

I didn't even hear him come in.

"Hello, my baby boy," I cooed.

Alec gasped from behind me. "How does he fucking do that?"

I smiled as I leaned over and scratched behind Storm's ears. "Because he is a cool dog."

"This is not funny, he doesn't make a fucking sound... it's not right, not right at all!"

I grinned. "I told you," I said as I turned around to face Alec again. "He is a ninja dog. — L.A. Casey

How can I give up stalking when I have a family to feed? Get a job? I don't want to work for you, your work makes me puke, do you understand? This is the way I figure it: if a man works with you, he is always working for one of you, he is a slave and nothing else. And I always wanted to be myself, on my own, so that I could spit at you all, at your boredom and despair. — Arkady Strugatsky

Oh come on, don't look that way. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
"I'm not," she says, trying to act casual. "I just want to know if you're disappointed in me for admitting this."
How could she ever understand that there isn't any way I could be disappointed since I no longer find anything worth looking forward to?
"You don't know much about me, do you?" I ask teasingly. — Bret Easton Ellis

I knew you could be naive, but I never thought you were stupid. He's an Eye, Sophie. They kill our kind. What part of that don't you understand?"

All I could do was blink at him.

"And this one is worse than any of the others," he continued, "because he's technically one of us. He's a traitor to his own race, and you just keep letting him in and pushing...everyone else away." He looked up at me, what I saw in his eyes made me flunch. Cal was so good at hiding his emotions that I'd never realized...God, how could I have been such an idiot? — Rachel Hawkins

I observed an eighteen-year-old friend of one of our daughters talking to his mother on the telephone. As he hung up the phone in frustration he said, "She makes me so angry, she's always telling me what to think and where to go and how to do things." He was obviously upset and filled with anger. I told him he had one of two choices. He could either continue to practice being right, or practice being kind. If you insist on being right you will argue, get frustrated, angry, and your problem will persist with your mom, I explained. If you simply practice being kind, you can remind yourself that this is your mom, she's always been that way, she will very likely stay that way, but you are going to send her love instead of anger when she starts in with her routine. A simple statement of kindness such as, "That's a good point, Mom, I'll think about it," and you have a spiritual solution to your problem. — Wayne W. Dyer

I'm sorry. I don't know how many times to tell you this for you to know it," I continued. "Francesca ... the night you stayed with me was the best night of my life. I've never felt more alive, more loved, happier, than when I hold you in my arms. Seeing your face makes my heart beat faster, in a good way, and I feel this calmness come over me. I don't know why, but it's always been this way with you. I understand if you can't forgive me, and I know you could do better, but I'm going to try my damnedest to make it up to you when I get out of here. I don't care if it takes a year, or ten, or even twenty. I will make you see how much I care. — Felicia Tatum

You teach me now how cruel you've been - cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you - they'll damn you. You loved me - what right had you to leave me? What right - answer me - for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery, and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will did it. I have no broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you - Oh, God! would you like to lie with your soul in the grave? — Emily Bronte

Of course it is juggling, theman in motley was saying ... YOu know what your problem is, Sir Grenall? You've been seduced by the lure of spectacle. Sure, I could juggle three or four balls and use two hands, and that would be very impressive, but then what would I do after that? Five balls? Three hands? You see how it goes? Now me, I'm an artist, trying to recapture the original purity of the art form. This-the man nodded at the ball he tossing up and down-this is the essence of juggling. — Gerald Morris

I don't even know how to thank you, Gavin. You've accepted me with every fragile weakness I have, loving me no less than a woman without faults. A woman without fears. Every look, touch, and kiss you've given without judgment of any kind. You've healed every exposed wound, old scar, and piece of pain I brought into this relationship without expecting anything in return. You've shown me what a racing heart feels like, shown me mere thoughts could easily cease with a single kiss. You've shown me what it is to feel truly, wholeheartedly, until the end of time loved. How do I thank you for all of this? — Gail McHugh

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

but then.

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

Yes. I know all about soul-wraiths." Ramsey frowned. "How did you avoid them in the past?"
"Set a perimeter of energized diaman crystal. That will keep them at bay." Hel smiled without humor. "I have the diaman crystal in my saddle pack. I lack a sexual partner to energize them. I had intended to return with a magistra but a magister will work as well. Care to volunteer?"
"Only if I top," Ramsey snapped.
"You'd have to kill me first," returned Hel.
"With pleasure."
Steffania took a breath. Ram cut her off. "No. I don't share you, Vixen."
Fear of the unknown almost froze Adonia's tongue, but she was the obvious answer. She could do this, and the opportunity might never present itself again. "I'll be your partner. — Patricia A. Knight

Don't make me out to be something worth saving. We both know I'm a waste." His voice was so quiet. "I wish I was better at telling you why you have to stay here. I wish I could put into words the part of my heart that has your name written on it. That part hurts right now. You have to be here. You love life too much. You're so important. I wish I could make you understand this." He tried to smile at her valiant efforts. "I would keep you if I could. You can sleep here, right on this couch. Beckett, I will let you hold this baby when it comes." She touched her stomach. "Does that tell you how much you mean to me? It's the only thing I can come up with." He shrugged. "Mouse would be disappointed. He'd feel like he didn't do his job if you died ... Eve loves you. Wherever she is - in this strip club - is that what you've been wishing for?" Beckett shook his head. "No, right? She loves you. You can't kill someone she loves. You just can't. — Debra Anastasia

The slave's self-consciousness, according to Hegel, not the master's, sublates into Absolute Knowledge.
This was changing everything for me. Sublation meant cancelling out and preservation; both, together, at the same time. You could get rid of something and protect it too. I realized that I wanted to sublate myself to Elijah. I wanted to be consumed by him and elevated by him and preserved in the process. I didn't know how to do this. This didn't seem inevitable. Did I have to struggle to the death? — Tamara Faith Berger

The Reed Flute's Work
I say to the reed flute, You do the work,
yet you know sweet secrets too.
You share the Friend's breathing.
What could you need from me?
The reed replies, Knowledge is total
destruction. I say, Burn me completely then
and leave no knowing.
How could I, when it's knowledge that leads us?
But this knowledge has lost compassion
and grown disgusted with itself.
It has forgotten about silence and emptiness.
A reed flute has nine holes
and is a model of human consciousness,
beheaded, though still in love with lips.
This is your disgrace, this moaning.
Weep for the sounds you make. — Rumi

When Kai fell silent, she risked a glance at him. He was staring at her hands [which she always holds mechanic gloves over to hide her ... you know, cyborg hands] ...
"Do you ever take those off?" he asked.
"No."
Kai tilted his head, peering at her as if he could see right through to the metal plate in her head ... "I think you should go to the ball with me."
She clutched her fingers ... "Stars," she muttered. "Didn't you already asked me that?"
"I'm hoping for a more favorable answer this time and I seem to be getting more desperate by the minute."
"How charming."
Kai's lips twitched. "Please?"
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"I mean, why me?"
Kai hooked his thumbs on his pockets. "So if my escape hover breaks down, I'll have someone to fix it? — Marissa Meyer

You can say the Jesus Prayer from now till doomsday, but if you don't realize that the only thing that counts in the religious life is detachment, I don't see how you ever move an inch. Detachment, buddy, and only detachment. Desirelessness. 'Cessations from all hankerings.' It's this business of desiring, if you want to know the goddam truth, that makes an actor in the first place. Why're you making me tell you things you already know? Somewhere along the line - in one damn incarnation or another, if you like - you not only had a hankering to be an actor or an actress but to be a good one. You're stuck with it now. You can't just walk out on the results of your own hankerings. Cause and effect, buddy, cause and effect. The only thing you can do now, the only religious thing you can do, is act. Act for God, if you want to - be God's actress, if you want to. What could be prettier? — J.D. Salinger

There was a time when I could walk down the street, Hollywood Boulevard or Beverly Drive, and somebody would come up to you and they would say, "Excuse me," and you'd barely hear them, and you'd turn around and you'd say, "Yeah, how you doing?" and they'd say, "I'm really sorry to bother you, but my aunt is a big fan of yours, and would you mind terribly if you'd just sign this paper," or whatever it is, and you're happy to do that, and the people are pretty nice about it. — Billy Bob Thornton

I had a sister once. She had a lot of dreams. Lots of things she wanted to do, but she died before the world could see how amazing she was." I look him in the eye and he meets my gaze as he waits for me to finish. "You want to know why I'm doing this? Because everyone deserves to have their story heard. — Cassia Leo

As I stood in contemplation of the garden of the wonders of space," Milosz writes, "I had the feeling that I was looking into the ultimate depths, the most secret regions of my own being; and I smiled, because it had never occurred to me that I could be so pure, so great, so fair! My heart burst into singing with the song of grace of the universe. All these constellations are yours, they exist in you; outside your love they have no reality! How terrible the world seems to those who do not know themselves! When you felt so alone and abandoned in the presence of the sea, imagine what solitude the waters must have felt in the night, or the night's own solitude in a universe without end!" And the poet continues this love duet between dreamer and world, making man and the world into two wedded creatures that are paradoxically united in the dialogue of their solitude. — Gaston Bachelard

Anyway, what do women grab when they're nervous and sitting at their desks? Do they slip their hands inside their panties? What a distracting thought. Just the word panty is distracting. I love that word; it implies so much. I love how women look in panties, how they're flat in the front. I'm thirty-five, but sometimes it's still this beautiful amazing shock to me that women don't have penises. They just have this lovely little mound of hair and then this tucked away glorious hole. Hole. Wait. Hole sounds vulgar. Is passageway better? Pretty envelope? Georgia O'Keeffe flower? Pussy? Pussy is good. I like the word pussy. Tucked away beautiful pussy. I wish I could put my face in one right now and sing out, I love you! — Jonathan Ames

I actually really don't want to know," I admitted. "Up until a few seconds ago I had a lot of illusions about you being this incredible, sane guy and I'd like to keep them, but I'm not going to be satisfied until I do."
"Fine then, I won't tell you."
I planted my face in my palm and sighed. "It doesn't matter how crazy this is, I'm going to be thinking about it all night."
He gave me a purely demonic grin. "Then I definitely won't tell you. "
My eyes narrowed. "That's nothing to be proud of."
"And why wouldn't I be proud of keeping a pretty girl up all night?" He chuckled and chewed on a French fry.
My face and the back of my neck burned. He had to be joking. No one could say something so horrifying and then eat a French fry. Supernatural beings didn't like fast food, I was sure of it. This was all an elaborate hoax and I just hasn't picked up on it yet. It had to be, and even if it wasn't I would pretend it was. Pretend until it became true. — Katherine Pine

Eric Leeds said, "This is a guy who has done some exceedingly generous and thoughtful things for me and other people but then a day later he could turn around and say something so off the wall and so ridiculously stupid and you'd say how do I reconcile these behaviors? People would wonder is he a bad guy who has good days or a good guy who has bad days? I think it's because he has the emotional maturity of a five-year-old. And he never understood the value of doing something thoughtful for somebody on its own merits. He really didn't understand the consequences of him doing something nice for somebody any more than he gave importance to the consequences of him doing something really nasty to somebody. The child doesn't know that yet. You teach your child what works and what doesn't and establish how relationships work. Well, Prince never got that and, to this day, he never has. — Toure

I know, somewhere in me, that it's not her that's being stupid. I understand, on one level, that she doesn't know, that everything's up in the air. But that's no use to me. You know the worst thing about being rejected? The lack of control. If you could only control the when and how of being dumped by somebody, then it wouldn't seem as bad. But then, of course, it wouldn't be rejection, would it? It would be by mutual consent. It would be musical differences. I would be leaving to pursue a solo career. I know how unbelievably and pathetically childish it is to push and push like this for some degree of probability, but it's the only thing I can do to grab any sort of control back from her. — Nick Hornby

Because I love you. I don't want to, okay? I think there are some things that are so hard, you shouldn't have to do them, only no one can take them from you. There are feelings so sick, so obviously unhealthy, you shouldn't have to feel them. But there they are. I still love you, and I'm not ever going to see you again, not ever. You did that to us. Not your dad or your family. just you. So I could hit you. I could rage at you right now, and call you every ugly name I know, and I know a lot. I could tell you how much I'm hurting, or I could get out of the car, slam the door, hitchhike to the airport because fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, West, how could you do this to me? How? — Robin York

First things first, my silence last night had nothing to do with you, but also had everything to do with you. You were not good last night, Lily, and I'm not the kind of guy that's filled with sweet words." Shaking his head, he adds, "That's not me."
I'm trying to undertand where this is going so I simply nod.
He nods, too. "But I get you. And I know that nothing I said last night would've helped. So I shut my trap, knowing that whatever I could've said would've only made things worse. That wasn't something we needed. So, rather than using words, I showed you how I could take care of you. So now you know. We can go from there." His face softens as he says, "You didn't ruin anything, baby. Got to taste you in every way, take care of you, and hold you all night. That's not bad."
Shaking his head slowly, he utters, "That's fucking phenomenal. — Belle Aurora

And she keeps saying, how can you do this to me?
And i want to scream, what do you mean, how can I do this to you? Aren't we confusing our pronouns here? The question, really, is How could I do this to myself? — Elizabeth Wurtzel

Having studied biology really helped me a lot because I quickly understand how biological systems work, and how they fail, and the tragedy of when they fail, because we are dealing with life systems, and when we hear that a species has become extinct, or is threatened, you realize that this could mean that this species will disappear from the face of the earth forever! So that understanding really gives you energy to do something to save it. — Wangari Maathai

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was so pissed off at what happened, at myself, I didn't think."
He stroked a hand down her hair first, then gave the choppy ends a quick tug. "I'm not angry with you."
"I know. You could be, but you're not. So I have to be even sorrier."
"Your logic is fascinating, and elusive."
"I can't pay you back with sex or salt-crusted sea bass or whatever because you're too busy taking care of me. So now I've got this black mark in my column against the bright shiny star in yours, and - "
He tipped her head up. "Are we keeping score?"
"No. Maybe. Shit."
"How am I doing?"
"Undisputed champ."
"Good. I like to win." He brushed her bangs back to study the injury himself. "You'll do. Let's eat. — J.D. Robb

If I could," he went on, "I would remain like this indefinitely - clasped by you, held inside you, a part of you - without moving at all. When we make love, I fight climax with everything I have. I don't want to come; I do not want it to end. No matter how long I make it last, it isn't nearly long enough. I am furious when I cannot hold back any longer. Why, Jess? If all I seek is the physical relief of natural lust, just as I would seek sleep or food, why would I deny myself?"
She turned her head and caught his mouth with hers, kissing him desperately.
"Tell me you understand," he demanded, his lips moving beneath hers. "Tell me you feel it, too."
"I feel you," she breathed, as intoxicated by his ardency as she was by the finest claret. "You have become everything to me. — Sylvia Day

It's important to remember that the animals are not grieving with us. They're very accepting. They're not lying there thinking 'How could you do this to me? Why aren't you keeping me going?' Pets don't do the human things of guilt and anger and recrimination that we do. They come and go with great acceptance. — Jon Katz

The expression, 'I did it of my own free will' is perfectly correct when it is understood to mean 'I did it because I wanted to; nothing compelled or caused me to do it since I could have acted otherwise had I desired.' This expression was necessarily misinterpreted because of the general ignorance that prevailed for although it is correct in the sense that a person did something because he wanted to, this in no way indicates that his will is free. In fact I shall use the expression 'of my own free will' frequently myself which only means 'of my own desire.' Are you beginning to see how words have deceived everyone? — Seymour Lessans

Tell me what to do," Ruxs whispered against Green's lips. "I want to do something to you." Green flicked his tongue over Ruxs bottom lip. "Do you know how sexy your mouth is? I could kiss you for hours." Green pushed his hips in harder, groaning powerfully. "I could come just like this." "Tell me what to do, Chris." Ruxs' hands went to Green's hip, feeling it gyrate under his palm. "You — A.E. Via

Rule the world," Raistlin repeated softly, his eyes burning. "Rule the world? You still don't undestand, do you, my dear sister? Let me make this as plain as I know how." Now it was his turn to stand up. Pressing his thin hands upon the desk, he leaned towards her, like a snake.
"I don't give damn about the world!" he said softly. "I could rule it tomorrow, if I wanted it! I don't. — Margaret Weis