How You Miss Him Quotes & Sayings

Then I guess we cannot miss the famous festival in New Orleans," he found himself saying, just to take the shadows from her eyes.
She was silent a moment, her fingers twisting in the blanket. "Do you mean it, Gregori? We can go?"
"You know how much I love crowds of humans," he said, straight-faced.
She laughed at him. "They don't bite."
"I do," he said, the words low and soft, his silver gaze at once possessive. — Christine Feehan

God," she said, her tone gently reproving, "brought Mr.Kensington to you, and with him, a world of potential. As I see it, each of our lives is a journey, Miss Cora. A path that takes us over the mountain or down through a dark valley. But He never abandons us. Never. That is how He cares for us - walking with us every step of the way. — Lisa Tawn Bergren

We look high and low for God, but somehow He's not there. So we blame Him and tell ourselves that He must have forgotten us. Or else we decide that He left us long ago, if He was ever around."
"How strange," the little fish said, "to miss what is everywhere."
"Very strange," the old whale agreed. "Doesn't it remind you of fish who say they're thirsty? — Michael Jackson

But before you dismiss it, let me tell you about what makes this hammer unique. It's called Mjollnir, the lightning-maker. First of all, it's unbreakable - doesn't matter how hard you hit something with it, the hammer will always be undamaged." Thor looked interested. He had already broken a great many weapons over the years, normally by hitting things with them. "If you throw the hammer, it will never miss what you throw it at." Thor looked even more interested. He had lost a number of otherwise excellent weapons by throwing them at things that irritated him and missing, and he had watched too many weapons he had thrown disappear into the distance, never to be seen again. "No — Neil Gaiman

To keep something, you must take care of it. More, you must understand just what sort of care it requires. You must know the rules and abide by them. She could do that. She had been doing it all the months, in the writing of her letters to him. There had been rules to be learned in that matter, and the first of them was the hardest: never say to him what you want him to say to you. Never tell him how sadly you miss him, how it grows no better, how each day without him is sharper than the day before. Set down for him the gay happenings about you, bright little anecdotes, not invented, necessarily, but attractively embellished. Do not bedevil him with the pinings of your faithful heart because he is your husband, your man, your love. For you are writing to none of these. You are writing to a soldier. — Dorothy Parker

Frost's face darkened. "What gives you the right to speak for Miss Hathaway and her family?"
Cam saw no reason to be discreet. "I'm going to marry her."
Frost nearly dropped the iron bar. "Don't be absurd. Amelia would never marry you."
"Why not?"
"Good God," Frost exclaimed incredulously, "how can you ask that? You're not a gentleman of her class, and ... hell and damnation, you're not even a real Gypsy. You're a mongrel."
"All the same, I'm going to marry her."
"I'll see you in hell first!" Frost cried, taking a step toward him.
"Either drop that bar," Cam said quietly, "or I'll dislocate your arm." He sincerely hoped Frost would take a swing at him. To his disappointment, Frost set the bar on the ground. — Lisa Kleypas

This is me. Despite our long separation, I know you. You may pretend to be fine, but I don't buy it." He stopped her from moving by putting his hands on her shoulders. He pulled her closer to him. She didn't resist that much this time. He slid his arms around her and was surprised when she wrapped her arms around him as well. "I miss you," he whispered in her hair, dropping a light kiss there. She smelled so good. Her scent reminded him of all the things he missed about her. How had he ever been so stupid to let her go? — Nikki Lynn Barrett

As Marcus considered various ways to open the subject of Daisy, Swift surprised him with a blunt statement. "My lord, there is something I would like to discuss with you."
Marcus adopted a pleasantly encouraging expression. "Very well."
"It turns out that Miss Bowman and I have reached an ... understanding. After considering the logical advantages on both sides, I have made a sensible and pragmatic decision that we should - "
"How long have you been in love with her?" Marcus interrupted, inwardly amused.
Swift let out a tense sigh. "Years," he admitted. — Lisa Kleypas

Miss Annie, is it wrong for me to believe it was Jesus who asked my forgiveness?" I asked her.
She frowned and shook her head, "Lord, what do they teach you at that school?" she said. Then she faced me head-on. "Did God humble himself by becoming a man?" she asked, every word spoken more loudly than the one before.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never used the word ma'am before, but it seemed an excellent time to start.
"Did he humble himself by dying on the cross to show us how much he loved us? she asked, waving her spatula at me.
My eyes widened and I nodded, yes.
Miss Annie's body relaxed, and she put her hand on her hip. "So why wouldn't Jesus humble himself and tell a boy he was sorry for letting him down if he knew it would heal his heart?" she asked.
"But if Jesus is perfect
"
Miss Annie ambled the five or six feet that separated us and took my hand. "Son," she said, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb, "love always stoops. — Ian Morgan Cron

....she has realized why people believe in a soul. It's because they have to for they have no other choice. It's hard to bear that all the conversations, all the memories you had with your parents,with your sisters, with the person you loved were burnt or buried, snuffed out of life. So conveniently, people invented the soul, not for the benefit of the deceased, but the loved ones he or she left behind, to make them feel that while they suffer, he or she is watching, and that they equally miss them, like they, too, think of them, and they, too, are watching him.
We can't think of the people we love as bodies buried in caskets or an urn full of ashes, so we think of them as a concentrated mist of nothingness which we call the human soul. No matter how hard they we try to make ourselves believe that they are around us, the truth is that they are gone. — Durjoy Datta

Idealistic? Ruddy stupid, if you'll pardon the language, miss,: Mr Roberts said. "All this talk about power for the people and down with the ruling classes and everyone should govern themselves. It can never happen, I told him. The ruling classes are born to rule. They know how to do it. You take a person like you or me and you put us up there to run a country and we'd make a ruddy mess of it. — Rhys Bowen

How can I judge?" she said at last. "To me, he is a hero. To the world a monster." She let her head fall into her arms and started crying quietly. "I miss him! Curse him! I miss him!"
Mithorden put a hand on her shoulder and let her cry for a few minutes. A sad smile slowly spread across his face. "I'm glad you can forgive him," he said at last.
Luthiel lifted her head. "How do you know?"
Because you miss him. — Robert Fanney

He tucked a lock of her hair, her warm, glorious, silky hair, over her ear. "Hands to yourself, Mr. Hazlit. I have brothers, and I can protect myself if need be." "How would you protect yourself? I'm at least half a foot taller and probably six stone heavier." "You're a man." She hugged his coat closer. "You have at least one other set of vulnerabilities besides your arrogance and your pride." "Nasty, Miss Windham." Wonderfully nasty. She gave him a disparaging glance. — Grace Burrowes

Cox slanted his eyes at him and grinned. "You're makin' me miss Kami," he said with a dramatic sigh. "Shut up," Mick growled. "You're a fuckin' pussy-whipped asshole." "Oh yeah?" Cox threatened. "How about I take your old lady out for a fuckin' ride? You good with that, old man?" Mick lunged and Cox went running. "Who's fuckin' pussy-whipped now, asshat?" Cox laughed over his shoulder. "That would be you, bitch!" "You did not just call me a bitch!" Mick roared, chasing him. "Bitch! I fuckin' did! Bitch! — Madeline Sheehan

Then it comes to him - how you can't return to a place you've never been to, can't recapture what you never had. The chances you miss stay missed forever. — Paul Russell

How I miss him," he whispered. "He knew me well."
"He knew you as you were," Beatrix said. "But I think you've changed. You don't expect perfection now. How else could you explain your attraction to me?"
Christopher gently took her face in his hands. "You are my idea of perfection, Beatrix Heloise."
She leaned forward until their noses touched. "Have you forgiven yourself?" she asked softly. "For surviving?"
"I'm trying to. — Lisa Kleypas

She folded her arms and then shouted, "Right you thieving scunners! How dare you steal Miss Treason's funeral meats!"
"Oh, waily, waily, it's the foldin' o' the arms, the foooldin' o' the aaaarmss!" cried Daft Wullie, dropping to the ground and trying to cover himself with leaves. Around him Feegles started to wail and cower and Big Yan began to bang his head on the rear wall of the dairy. — Terry Pratchett

As Qhuinn looked at his best friend's handsome face, he felt as if he'd never not known that red hair, those blue eyes, those lips, that jaw. And it was because of their long history that he searched for something to say, something that would get them back to where they had been. All that came to him was ... I miss you. I miss you so fucking bad it hurts, but I don't know how to find you even though you're right in front of me. — J.R. Ward

He began quietly, "You recall, of course, that I won the Smallwood spelling contest every year I was there?" "Yes, Mr. Weston," she replied evenly, eyes remaining on the portrait. "And you might also recall that your father declared my handwriting the best he'd ever had the privilege to read?" "Yes, Mr. Weston." He looked at her composed profile and felt admiration fill him. When she said no more, he slowly shook his head, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "Well done, Miss Smallwood." He started to turn away but paused to add, "He did admire you, you know. He just didn't know how to show it." She gave him an incredulous look. "Mr. Pugsworth?" "Yes," Henry said, then walked away, thinking, Him too. — Julie Klassen

You look pensive," he said quietly, holding his hand out from where he lay on the bed. He wore only his shirt and breeches. She went to him without protest. Why pretend when they really had so little time left together? He gathered her against him, her back to his front, and began plucking the pins from her coiffure. "Have I told you how much I admire your hair?" "It's just plain brown," she murmured. "Plain, lovely brown," he replied, raising a lock he'd freed to his face. "Are you smelling my hair?" she asked in amusement. "Yes." "Silly man," she said lightly. "Smitten man," he corrected, spreading her hair over her shoulders. "I've been watching you today." "In between escorting Miss Royle about the garden?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Yes. I'd rather it'd been you, but that wouldn't've been prudent." He frowned down at the strands of her hair caught between his fingers. "Or, perhaps, safe. — Elizabeth Hoyt

You removed my spectacles!"
A disbelieving snort of laughter escaped him. "The way you're taking on, you'd have thought I removed
your clothing!"
Samantha clutched at the high-necked bodice of her homely bottle-green day dress. "How do I know
you didn't?"
Silence hung between them, thicker than the heated air. Then his smoky voice dipped into low and
dangerous territory. "If I had removed your clothing, Miss Wickersham, I can assure you it would have
been worth waking up for. — Teresa Medeiros

I studied him a moment before slipping my arms around his waist. "I guess you look human enough," I said casually, and he raised an eyebrow. Arrogant faery. He knows exactly how gorgeous he is . "Come on,' I said, tugging him toward the carriage. "We should hurry or we'll miss our reservation. — Julie Kagawa

Doesn't it blow your mind that God thought of you? You were not a random birth. You were created in the mind of God. He named you and then wrote your name on the palm of His hands. He has counted every hair on your head and collected every tear you have cried ~ that is how precious you are to Him. Remember, this is a soul dance and our partner, our Father, is waltzing us back home. When we stumble ~ we learn how to get up. When we fall off the cliff ~ we learn how to fly. Remember if you're afraid of stumbling you will never get to fall, you will never fly, and oh I tell you, you don't want to miss that adventure, by the way, they are all adventures. So, stumble my child, skin your knees and elbows, let go, let God and when you come to the edge of that cliff....Fall.... — Aleece Walz

You miss the idea of him. There you go. Was that so hard? "That goes away, too," says your friend. Through the magic of the biological imperative, his brain has been reprogrammed. He has been forced to gloss over his own romantic carnage so that he might once again start down that road of procreation. He has nineteen layers of skin; you have three-fourths of a layer. They're all like this, the recovered. Sometimes you want to hop across the table, curl up in their laps, and beg to be made one of them. How does it work? Hypnosis? A chip in the neck? A radioactive spider with Xanax venom? — Sloane Crosley

You can not die of grief, though it feels as if you can. A heart does not actually break, though sometimes your chest aches as if it is breaking. Grief dims with time. It is the way of things. There comes a day when you smile again, and you feel like a traitor. How dare I feel happy. How dare I be glad in a world where my father is no more. And then you cry fresh tears, because you do not miss him as much as you once did, and giving up your grief is another kind of death. — Laurell K. Hamilton

I always make it a rule to let the other fellow fire first. If a man wants to fight, I argue the question with him and try to show him how foolish it would be. If he can't be dissuaded, why then the fun begins but I always let him have first crack. Then when I fire, you see, I have the verdict of self-defence on my side. I know that he is pretty certain in his hurry, to miss. I never do. — Ben Thompson

You are a souvenir shop, where he goes to remember how much people miss him when he is gone. — Sierra DeMulder

Mr. Benjamin shrugged his shoulders. "We have to live today," he said. "If you had a son, Harkavy, you'd want him to have a college education. Who's going to wait for the Messiah? They tell a story about a little town in the old country. It was out of the way, in a valley, so the Jews were afraid the Messiah would come and miss them, and they built a high tower and hired one of the town beggars to sit in it all day long. A friend of his meets this beggar and says, 'How do you like your job, Baruch?' So he says, 'It doesn't pay much, but I think it's steady work. — Saul Bellow

It's a McLaren SLR 722 Roadster."

"How big is it?"

"It's a convertible."

"Will a tiger fit?"

"No. It seats only two, but the boys are man half the day now."

"Is it more than $30,000?"

He squirmed and hedged, "Yes, but-"

"How much more?"

"Much more."

"How much more?"

"About $400,000 more."

My mouth dropped open. "Mr. Kadam!"

"Miss Kelsey, I know it's extravagant, but when you drive it, you will see it's worth every cent."

I folded my hands across my chest. "I won't drive it."

He looked offended. "That car was meant to be driven."

"Then you drive it. I'll drive the Jeep."

He looked tempted. "If it will appease you, perhaps we can share it."

Kishan clapped his hands. "I can't wait."

Mr. Kadam wagged a finger at him. "Oh, no! Not you. We'll get you a nice sedan. Used. — Colleen Houck

Kenny was actually here at Melwood as a 15-year-old schoolboy. He came on trial and he went home afterwards. It was only later that Bill Shankly realised that Dalglish was here as a boy and he went mad! He said 'how did we miss him?' Kenny just had the football brain. He was born with it and you can't give that to people. He had that natural born talent. — Ian St. John

Why do you ask?"
"Because I can."
"You can what?"
"I can go in the private collection!" I scurried toward him. "My father had a lifetime subscriptioin, Mr. Sheridan, and not just that, but he had special privileges. I'm certain I could use his name to get you into the private collection."
Daniel's jaw fell. "Why didn't you say so before?"
"What?" I recoiled. "How was I supposed to know you needed it?"
"We could've gone ages ago!"
My enthusiasm transformed into outrage. "In that case, why didn't you say you needed it?"
"Because I didn't know you had a subscription!"
"Aha!" I cried, thrusting a finger at him. "Your argument's a circle!"
Daniel sprang up. "We wasted all this time-"
"Silence!" Joseph roared. "You are like squawking parrots, and I have had quite enough. Miss Fitt, I would ask that you take Mr. Sheridan to the library immediately. Daniel, I would ask that you keep that big mouth of yours silent. — Susan Dennard

Gathering her courage, she swallowed past the lump in her throat and held his gaze. It wasn't how she'd envisioned telling him, but she couldn't let him go without saying the words. "I'm falling in love with you."
The smile died, his amused expression dissolving into shock. "What?"
"Yeah. So you have to come back so I can finish the job."
A jumble of emotions swirled in the blue depths of his eyes as he stared at her. Then he broke into a wide smile and brought a hand up to cradle her cheek. "I'm coming back, sweetheart. I wouldn't miss that chance for the world. — Kaylea Cross

This is why we are called to worship Him. His art, His handiwork, and His creation all echo the truth that He is glorious. There is no other like Him. He is the King of Kings, the Beginning and the End, the One who was and is and is to come. I know you've heard this before, but I don't want you to miss it.
I sometimes struggle with how to properly respond to God's magnitude in a world bent on ignoring or merely tolerating Him. But know this: God will not be tolerated. He instructs us to worship and fear Him. — Francis Chan

I'm on the hit list for more than two dozen nations. Then there's all the assholes who hate me. That list is endless." Sumi could imagine, given how lethal he could be. Still, the list might give them some idea as to who would pay this kind of money for his life. "Who's at the top of it?" "Your boss. Kyr Zemin. Psycho cyclops bastard. You can't really miss him in a crowd." She — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I don't want you to go." Waves rocked against the pier. The sun was too bright. Weathered boards creaked beneath Arin's feet.
"Only because you enjoy a good bully. Someone to make you behave as you ought."
"No, Roshar."
"You know well enough what to do now. You'll be fine."
"That's not why."
"Why you'll miss me? I admit that the impending absence of my keen wit would make anyone sad."
"Not exactly."
"Now I'm getting sad, just thinking about how it would feel to be parted from my sweet self. Lucky me: I will always have my own company."
"What you said at the banquet was true."
"Everything I say is true."
"That I love you."
Roshar's face went still. "I said that?"
"You know that you did."
"That was more for the drama of the moment."
"Liar."
"I am, aren't I?" Roshar said slowly. "I really am. Arin." His voice roughened. "You'll see me again."
"Soon," Arin told him, and embraced him. — Marie Rutkoski

I really miss us, Trent." I swallow. "I miss how I could tell you everything and how I knew you'd never judge me. I miss how safe I used to feel when you held me. I miss that you knew me better than I knew myself. I miss my best friend so much," I add, as a tear rolls over my lashes. "What we did stole him from me. I want him back. — Lisa Desrochers

When Noah Crawford wanted something, you couldn't bat a lash around him or you were going to miss seeing how he got it. Not that I was complaining or anything. — C.L. Parker

Aloneness and all-oneness is our authentic nature. We are always alone and all-one. We came into this planet alone and all-one. We will leave alone and all-one. And also during our whole staying in this world, no matter how we engage in relationships, we continue to be alone and all-one, though we may forget about it or pretend it is not the case.
True love has nothing to do with the idea that someone is the other half of my soul and that I need him or her in order to be whole and feel complete. Only when we can be alone and all-one with someone there is true love, regardless of whether that someone is still with us or not.
And yet ... I miss you ... — Franco Santoro

Miss Smith, your suspicions wound me,' he said with a smile. He drew her, stiff and unwilling, against his side. Immediately her warmth seeped into his veins. He'd known he'd missed her, but only now did he realize how much. 'I mean no harm.'
'You lie.'
'Often,' he agreed amiably, feeling the resistance leaching from her. 'Not this time.'
'I'm in no fit state to fight you,' she muttered, curving into him as if created to fit his body.
'I know,' he acknowledged ruefully, wondering why of all the women in the world, she was the only one who ignited any glimmer of chivalry in his soul. 'But it's no fun when you just give in. I'll wait until you're up for another bout.'
She hid her face in his shoulder. She inhaled on a shudder, as if she hadn't taken a full breath in days. 'You're an evil devil, Ranelaw.'
'Absolutely,' he said softly, firming his hold as she shifted, not away as she should, but closer. — Anna Campbell

He arched a brow. "Miss Lahey, are you flirting with me?"
"Well, hot stuff, if you have to ask, I'm not doing it right."
His laughter rumbled low, slithering heat underneath my skin. I pulled him to me, backing him against the table, risking a literal firestorm as his lips laid upon mine with a burning promise of
"That's how babies are made!"
I reeled back and knocked over a chair. "Aunt M!"
"Sex kills!"
"M, seriously." Mom walked into the kitchen and rolled her eyes.
My aunt patted her belly. "It killed my waistline." Then she cackled.
Who was the banshee now?
"Ayden and Rory sitting in a tree," Selena sing-songed, "making b-a-b-b-y-n-g."
"Mom!"
"Selena," Mom admonished. "That's not the right spelling. — A&E Kirk

I thought for a moment about the dog. Miffy. I guess no matter how much Rube and I complained about him, we knew we'd sort of miss him if something happened to him. It's funny how there are things in this world that do nothing but annoy you, but you know you'd miss them when they're gone. Miffy, the Pomeranian wonderdog, was one such thing. — Markus Zusak

Miss Princeton is . . ." He searched for a way to describe her. "Reckless."
"Reckless?" The word escaped all four men in perfect harmony.
He sighed. It wasn't like him to talk about personal matters. Drawing attention to himself was not his style. Back home in Phoenix people expected their ministers to be dignified and sedate. At age thirty, he'd served his church well. He could only imagine what his congregation would say if they knew how their esteemed leader bared his soul to a group of near strangers.
"Maybe that's not the right word but . . ." He couldn't think of another. "She taught our church ladies to play rounders."
The eye behind the monocle never wavered from its examination of him. "Far as I know, rounders isn't a sin. Why are you all riled up? — Mary Connealy

I continued, louder. "I miss my grandfather every day, but a very smart friend once told me that everything happens for a reason. If I hadn't lost him, well, I never would've found you. So I guess I had to lose one part of my family to find another. Anyway, that's how you make me feel. Like family. Like one of you. — Ransom Riggs

Miss Cornelia sighed and Susan groaned. "Yes, he's nice enough if that were all," said the former. "He is VERY nice - and very learned - and very spiritual. But, oh Anne dearie, he has no common sense! "How was it you called him, then?" "Well, there's no doubt he is by far the best preacher we ever had in Glen St. Mary church," said Miss Cornelia, veering a tack or two. "I suppose it is because he is so moony and absent-minded that he never got a town call. His trial sermon was simply wonderful, believe ME. Every one went mad about it - and his looks." "He is VERY comely, Mrs. Dr. dear, and when all is said and done, I DO like to see a well-looking man in the pulpit," broke in Susan, thinking it was time she asserted herself again. — L.M. Montgomery

Really, Miss Catherine, how can I know?' I replied. 'To be sure, considering the exhibition you performed in his presence this afternoon, I might say it would be wise to refuse him: since he asked you after that, he must either be hopelessly stupid or a venturesome fool. — Emily Bronte

R wrote Delahaye about all that had happened to him and about what he, R, wanted:
My friend,
You're eating white flour and mud in your pigsty. I don't miss Charleville. I don't miss being a bored pig where the sun dries up all brains but sloth. Your brains or feelings're being dried up: dead pig Delahaye.
Emotions are the movers of this world.
Me: I'm thirsty. What I'm thirsty for - whom I'm thirsty for - I can't get so I drink poisons. I've got to free myself. From what? Pain? Oh - for more poisons. Maybe more poisons'll come and I'll go so far, I'll emerge. Something is trying to emerge from this mess.
I don't know how. — Kathy Acker

Yesterday you were riding on my shoulders," he murmured. "The house was full of noise. Clomping up and down the steps,doors slamming. Scattered toys. I don't know how many times I stepped on one of those damned little cars of Brady's/"
Turning back, he ran a hand over her hair. "I miss that.I miss all of you."
"Daddy." In one fluid movement she rose and slid her arms around him.
"It's the way it's supposed to work. Three of you off at college, Brendon moving around to get a handle on the busines of things.It's what he wants. And you, building your own.But..I miss the crowd of you."
"I promise to slam the door the very first chance I get."
"That might help."
"Sentimental softie.I love that about you."
"Lucky for me. — Nora Roberts

His hand came to her neck, his fingers tracing the corded muscle there, and she knew he could feel her pulse racing. "You think I did not miss you?" She froze at the words, her breath coming shallow, desperate for him to say more. "You think I did not miss everything about you? Everything you represented?" He pressed against her, his breath soft against her temple. She closed her eyes. How had they found themselves here, in this place where he was so dark and so broken? "You think I did not want to come home?" His voice was thick with emotion. "But there was no home to which I could return. There was no one there." "You're wrong," she argued. "I was there. I was there . . . and I was . . ." Alone. She swallowed. "I was there. — Sarah MacLean

We were on Barrow Street now.
"Who is the man with the scar?" I said.
She shot me a glance, and her face hardened. "You saw him?"
"How could I miss? He was the real center of attention. Didn't you go to the opening at all?"
"No" She said. "And just because you saw him doesn't mean he was there. — Nicholas Christopher

Kerrigan?" she tried again.
"Aye, Lady Mouse. I am here."
Relieved, she smiled at the sound of his voice in her head. During the day, he was oft silent. But at night ... at night he would speak softly to her and tell her of his travels through time as he eluded those who were after him.
"Where are you today, my lord?"
"I'm in Venice, during a carnival. It's beautiful here. There are minstrels and acrobats all around. Plenty of places to hide from Morgen and her spies."
"You are safe?"
"Aye, Lady Mouse. I am always safe. But I've no wish to talk about me. How are you doing?"
"I miss you."
She swore she could feel his pain as well as her own.
"I miss you as well and I think of you constantly."
-Kerrigan and Seren communicating though their thoughts as they were apart. — Kinley MacGregor

One last thing," he said. "Stop looking for me."
"I'm not looking for you." I scoffed.
He touched his index finger to my forehead, my skin absurdly warming under his touch. It didn't escape me that he couldn't seem to stop finding reasons to touch me. Nor did I miss that I didn't want him to stop. "Under all the layers, a part of you remembers. It's the part that came looking for me tonight. It's that part that's going to get you killed, if you're not careful."
We stood face-to-face, both of us breathing hard. The sirens were so close now.
"What am I supposed to tell the police?" I said.
"You're not going to talk to the police."
"Oh, really? Funny, because I plan on telling them exactly how you rammed that tire iron into Gabe's back. Unless you answer my questions."
He gave an ironic snort. "Blackmail? You've changed, Angel. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Loser"
"Father directed choir. When it paused on a Sunday,
he liked to loiter out morning with the girls;
then back to our cottage, dinner cold on the table,
Mother locked in bed devouring tabloid.
You should see him, white fringe about his ears,
bald head more biased than a billiard ball
he never left a party. Mother left by herself
I threw myself from her car and broke my leg ...
Years later, he said, 'How jolly of you to have jumped.'
He forgot me, mother replaced his name, I miss him.
When I am unhappy, I try to squeeze the hour
an hour or half-hour smaller than it is;
orphaned, I wake at midnight and pray for day
the lovely ladies get me through the day — Robert Lowell

Dad shakes his head. "Nope. His name start with an F." He snaps his fingers. "Floyd. That's it. When I picked you up from school, I overheard you say how much you like him, and miss him, and . . ." Then my brother and I start laughing so hard we practically hyperventilate. Dad shrugs. "What? I know I'm clueless, but you've got to tell me what's so funny." "Floyd is Karma's phone," says Toby, who's clutching his stomach because he's laughing so hard. My — Hillary Homzie

Before Westcliff could launch into an unwanted diatribe regarding Annabelle, Simon sought to distract him. "You don't seem to rub on well with Miss Bowman," he remarked.
As a diversionary tactic, the mention of Lillian Bowman was supremely effective.
Westcliff responded with a surly grunt. "The ill-mannered brat dared to imply that Miss Peyton's mishap was my fault," he said, pouring a brandy for himself.
Simon raised his brows. "How could it be your fault?"
"Miss Bowman seems to think that, as their host, it was my responsibility to ensure that my estate wasn't 'overrun with a plague of poisonous vipers,' as she put it."
"How did you reply?"
"I pointed out to Miss Bowman that the guests who choose to remain clothed when they venture out of doors don't usually seem to get bitten by adders."
Simon couldn't help grinning at that. — Lisa Kleypas

It felt very good to have him walking beside her. Good like rest and quiet, like something you could live without but you needed anyway. That you had to learn how to miss, and then you'd never stop missing it. — Marilynne Robinson

Bertram!" Jackaby patted him on the arm affably as he bustled past him into the front hall. "It's been ages, how are the kids?" "I remain unmarried, Mr. Jackaby, and I'm afraid you can't be seen just now." "Nonsense. Miss Rook, can you see me?" "Certainly, sir." "Well, there you have it. You must have your eyes checked, Bertram. Now — William Ritter

You can't go."
"Give me a reason why I shouldn't."
"Because I'll miss you, damn it!" she hissed, splaying her arms. "Because what's the point in anything if you just disappear forever?"
"The point in what, Celaena?" How could he be so calm when she was so frantic?
"The point in Skull's Bay, and the point in getting me that music, and the point in ... the point in telling Arobynn that you'd forgive him if he never hurt me again."
"You said you didn't care what I thought. Or what I did. Or if I died, if I'm not mistaken."
"I lied! And you know I lied you stupid bastard! — Sarah J. Maas

I have to tell him how much i miss him when he's not here. So I snug my face against his pulse in his neck. "I love you" I wait, barely about to breathe. He tightens his arms around me. "I know, and how luck that makes me." I watch him go, wondering just what the fuck that meant to me. — Ellen Hopkins

There isn't a single spot I'll miss tonight, my wife." Blake pulled her against him, tilting her head until he could kiss her again. His fingers and lips made her moan. He placed a hand on her stomach and the other behind her neck. "How many times can I make you come before you can't take it anymore?"
"I think we might have one to count already."
"Really? Just from talking? Imagine what'll happen when you feel my tongue inside you." Blake backed her up against the bed.
"Get on the bed, Livia. That lingerie is about to be a very pretty necklace. — Debra Anastasia

I took a breath and blurted everything out before I was too chickenshit to say any of it. "I wanted to tell you that I just - I miss you. And maybe
that sounds ridiculous - like we barely know each other, but between the emails and texts and ... everything else, I felt like we did. Like we do. And I
miss - I don't know how else to say it - I miss both of you."
He swallowed, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly. I knew he would be all rational and do-the-right-thing and he would push me away again,
and I was determined not to give him that chance. But then his eyes flashed open and he said, "Fuck it," pushing me against the door, slamming his
forearms on either side of my head and kissing me more forcefully than I'd ever been kissed — Tammara Webber

For Dad. I miss you. Feel no guilt in laughter, he'd know how much you care. Feel no sorrow in a smile that he is not here to share. You cannot grieve forever; he would not want you to. He'd hope that you could carry on the way you always do. So, talk about the good times and the way you showed you cared, The days you spent together, all the happiness you shared. Let memories surround you, a word someone may say Will suddenly recapture a time, an hour, a day, That brings him back as clearly as though he were still here, And fills you with the feeling that he is always near. For if you keep those moments, you will never be apart And he will live forever locked safely within your heart. --Unknown — Heather McCoubrey

Oh, you don't know what this means to me," he said brokenly at last. "I hadn't any picture of him. And I'm not like other folks . . . I can't recall a face . . . I can't see faces as most folks can in their mind. It's been awful since the Little Fellow died. . . . I couldn't even remember what he looked like. And now you've brought me this . . . after I was so rude to you. Sit down . . . sit down. I wish I could express my thanks in some way. I guess you've saved my reason . . . maybe my life. Oh, miss, isn't it like him? You'd think he was going to speak. My dear Little Fellow! How am I going to live without him? I've nothing to live for now. First his mother . . . now him. — L.M. Montgomery

Piper went a little crazy. She cried out with relief and dove straight into the water.
What was she thinking? She didn't take a rope or a life vest or anything. But at the moment, she was just so happy that she paddled over to Leo and kissed him on the cheek, which kind of surprised him.
"Miss me?" Leo laughed.
Piper was suddenly furious. "Where were you? How are you guys alive?"
"Long story," he said. A picnic basket bobbed to the surface next to him. "Want a brownie? — Rick Riordan

I told you not to take off work for this."
"And miss your big finale? No way.I'm all atwitter to see how things turn out."
"That's cute, Jordo." Then he frowned as
Nick McCall was suddenly there, in their lives, and
Kyle was therefore being a little ... cautious before
welcoming him into the family.
"Be nice, Kyle," Jordan warned.
"What?" he asked innocently. "When have I ever
not been nice to Tall, Dark, and You Can't Be
Serious About This Guy?"
"I like him. Get used to it. — Julie James

And I told him, I said: One day you're going to miss the subway because it's not going to come. One of these days, it's going to break down and it's not going to come around and everyone else will just wait for the next one or will take the bus, or walk, or run to the next station: they will go on with their lives. And you're not going to be able to go on with your life! You'll be standing there, in the subway station, staring at the tube. Why? Because you think that everything has to happen perfectly and on time and when you think it's going to happen! Well guess what! That's not how things happen! And you'll be the only one who's not going to be able to go on with life, just because your subway broke down. So you know what, you've got to let go, you've got to know that things don't happen the way you think they're going to happen, but that's okay, because there's always the bus, there's always the next station ... you can always take a cab. — C. JoyBell C.

Why does Jesus love us?
Do you ever think about that?
Why does Jesus, content and whole and complete and satisfied, love us?
I don't see how this would benefit Jesus. He has nothing to gain from us; we have nothing to offer Him.
There's nothing in this for Jesus.
His love for us must not be driven by what He can get - but what He can give. Jesus is aware that by loving us we might become like Him - content and whole and complete and satisfied. We must not miss this: Jesus does not love us in order to get something from us in return. Jesus loves us simply to give us all that He has to offer - Himself. — Cole Ryan

There's an honesty to the wolf world that is liberating. There's no diplomacy, no decorum. You tell your enemy you hate him; you show your admiration by confessing the truth. That directness doesn't work with humans, who are masters of subterfuge. Does this dress make me look fat? Do you really love me? Did you miss me? When a person asks this, she doesn't want to know the real answer. She wants you to lie to her. After two years of living with wolves, I had forgotten how many lies it takes to build a relationship. — Jodi Picoult

We'd never miss Alex's retirement. No matter how you feel about us being here."

Pompous prick. That was the exact reason Reese bounced his fist off Hayes's face all those years ago. He flexed his hand with the temptation to do it now too. Smarmy dickweed.

"Alex is a good man." Merina stroked Reese's arm, bringing his temper down a notch. "I'm sure he can see exactly what you are trying to accomplish by being here. If you'll excuse us." In a stage whisper, she added, "I'm going to sneak out of here for a moment with Reese. You remember how hard it was to keep your hands off him, I'm sure. — Jessica Lemmon

Lewis appeared beside them, roguish grin on his handsome face. "Miss Macy, as I live and breathe! How I have longed to see you again. Do say you'll dance with me. Nate won't mind if I cut in. Will you, ol' boy?" Nathaniel felt the old stab of jealousy. He glanced from his brother's face - perfectly confident she would agree - to Margaret's. She looked at Lewis squarely and said, "Actually, I would prefer to dance with your brother." Lewis's mouth parted in disbelief. Heart lifting, Nathaniel whirled Margaret away from his stunned brother. It was likely the first time a woman had turned him down for anything. — Julie Klassen

He has a very nice face and style, really," said Mrs. Kenwigs.
"He certainly has," added Miss Petowker. "There's something in his appearance quite
dear, dear, what's the word again?"
"What word?" inquired Mr. Lillyvick.
"Why
dear me, how stupid I am!" replied Miss Petowker, hesitating. "What do you call it when lords break off doorknockers, and beat policemen, and play at coaches with other people's money, and all that sort of thing?"
"Aristocratic?" suggested the collector.
"Ah! Aristocratic," replied Miss Petowker; "something very aristocratic about him, isn't there?"
The gentlemen held their peace, and smiled at each other, as who should say, "Well! there's no accounting for tastes;" but the ladies resolved unanimously that Nicholas had an aristocratic air, and nobody caring to dispute the position, it was established triumphantly. — Charles Dickens

Miss Gates is a nice lady, ain't she?"
Why sure," said Jem. "I liked her when I was in her room."
She hates Hitler a lot ... "
What's wrong with that?"
Well, she went on today about how bad it was him treating the Jews like that. Jem, it's not right to persecute anybody, is it? I mean have mean thoughts about anybody, even, is it?"
Gracious no, Scout. What's eatin' you?"
Well, coming out of the courthouse that night Miss Gates was
she was going' down the steps in front of us, you musta not seen her
she was talking with Miss Stephanie Crawford. I heard her say it's time somebody time somebody taught 'em a lesson, they were gettin' way above themelves, an' the next thing they think they can do is marry us. Jem, how can you hate Hitler so bad an' then turn around and be ugly about folks right at home
— Harper Lee

Nookie." I giggle because the word itself is funny but hearing her say it makes it even more so. "I'm going to give you some advice because you're still a new wife - and because my son can be a little shit at times. I know; I'm his mum." She looks around as though she's about to reveal top-secret information. "Nookie equals power and there's a reason he wants it from you all the time. It levels the playing field. Don't like something he's doing? Take the nookie away. Get the results you want. Need him to see things your way but he refuses? Withhold the nookie and he'll make the fastest attitude adjustment you've ever seen. Want your husband to retire because he's going to work himself into an early grave and miss his grandchildren growing up the way he missed his kids? Close the gates of nookie and get your husband home with you instead of burying him. That's how you work it, darling. You use the power of the nookie to get the results you want. — Georgia Cates