It's Me And You Against The World Quotes & Sayings

Cosca smiled up at the dragon, hands on hips. 'It certainly is a remarkable curiosity. A magnificent relic. But against what is already boiling across the plains? The legion of the dumb? The merchants and farmers and makers of trifles and filers of papers? The infinite tide of greedy little people?' He waved his hat towards the dragon. 'Such things as this are worthless as a cow against a swarm of ants. There will be no place in the world to come for the magical, the mysterious, the strange. They will come to your sacred places and build . . . tailors' shops. And dry-goods emporia. And lawyers' offices. They will make of them bland copies of everywhere else.' The old mercenary scratched thoughtfully at his rashy neck. 'You can wish it were not so. I wish it were not so. But it is so. I tire of lost causes. The time of men like me is passing. The time of men like you?' He wiped a little blood from under his fingernails. 'So long passed it might as well have never been. — Joe Abercrombie

Think of my Pleasure in Solitude, in comparison of my commerce with the world - there I am a child - there they do not know me not even my most intimate acquaintance - I give into their feelings as though I were refraining from irritating a little child - Some think me middling, others silly, other foolish - every one thinks he sees my weak side against my will; when in thruth it is with my will - I am content to be thought all this because I have in my own breast so graet a resource. This is one great reason why they like me so; because they can all show to advantage in a room, and eclipese from a certain tact one who is reckoned to be a good Poet - I hope I am not here playing tricks 'to make the angels weep': I think not: for I have not the least contempt for my species; and though it may sound paradoxical: my greatest elevations of Soul leave me every time more humbled - Enough of this - though in your Love for me you will not think it enough. — John Keats

I could have done even better, miss, and I'd know a lot more, if it wasn't for my destiny ever since childhood. I'd have killed a man in a duel with a pistol for calling me low-born, because I came from Stinking Lizaveta without a father, and they were shoving that in my face in Moscow. It spread there thanks to Grigory Vasilievich. Grigory Vasilievich reproaches me for rebelling against my nativity: 'You opened her matrix,' he says. I don't know about her matrix, but I'd have let them kill me in the womb, so as not to come out into the world at all, miss. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Beth hates me."
I chuckled, loving Echo for calling it straight. I framed her face with my hands, letting my fingers enjoy the feel of her satin skin. "You 're my world, so i'd say that evens things out."
Echo's eyes widened and she paled. Why was she upset? My mind replayed every moment carefully and then froze, rewound, replayed and froze again on the words i'd said.
It had been so long since i'd let myself fall for anybody. I gazed into her beautiful green eyes and her fear melted. A shy smile tugged at her lips and at my heart. Fuck me and the rest of the world, I was in love.
Echo's gloved hands reached up and guided my head to hers. I let myself bask in her warmth and deepened our kiss, enjoying the teasing taste of her tongue and the way her soft lips moved against mine. Very easily, i could lose myself in her ... forever. — Katie McGarry

"It's me I'm losing control of. Hundreds of sketches, and still can't get enough of your face." He traces the dimple in my chin with his thumb. "Your beck." His palm moves along my throat. "Your ... " both hands find my waist and drag me off the table so we're standing toe tote. "I'm not wasting another second drawing you," he whispers against my lips, "when I can touch you instead." He presses his mouth to mine.
A spark, hot and electric, jumps between us. Shock and sensation shimmer through me, aglow with his heat ad flavor. Six year of secret desire. Six years of denying that he's the orbit of my world.
To think, he's been running from me, too. — A.G. Howard

You spend your life hoarding memories against the day you'll lack the energy to go out and make new ones, because that's the comfort of the old age. The ability to look back at your life and know that you left your mark on the world. But I'm losing my memories, it's like someone's broken into my piggy bank and is robbing me one penny at a time. It's happening so slowly, I can hardly tell what's missing. — Shaun David Hutchinson

ROSE: You can't be nobody but who you are, Cory. That shadow wasn't nothing but you growing into yourself. You either got to grow into it or cut it down to fit you. But that's all you got to make life with. That's all you got to measure yourself against that world out there. Your daddy wanted you to everything he wasn't...and at the same time he tried to make you into everything he was. I don't know if he was right or wrong...but I do know he meant to do more good than he meant to do harm. He wasn't always right. Sometimes when he touched he bruised. And sometimes when he took me in his arms he cut. — August Wilson

Let me tell you what I literally told every world leader I've met with, and I've met them all: It's never, never, never been a good bet to bet against America. We have the finest fighting force in the world. — Joe Biden

War as a moral metaphor is limited, limiting, and dangerous. By reducing the choices of action to "a war against" whatever-it-is, you divide the world into Me or Us (good) and Them or It (bad) and reduce the ethical complexity and moral richness of our life to Yes/No, On/Off. This is puerile, misleading, and degrading. In stories, it evades any solution but violence and offers the reader mere infantile reassurance. All too often the heroes of such fantasies behave exactly as the villains do, acting with mindless violence, but the hero is on the "right" side and therefore will win. Right makes might. — Ursula K. Le Guin

Well, it's a good story to tell Arielle," she mused, her lips tipping up. "When your daddy was fighting for us, he got so excited that he swooned like a Victorian maiden."

"I didn't swoon. I passed out from exhaustion."

"Same thing."

"Not at all the same thing."

"Tomatoes, tomahtoes."

"You're going to tell Arielle that I'm her daddy?" I asked softly, my smile dropping as I searched her face. "That I fought for her?"

"Do you want me to?" she replied, her lips trembling.

"Yes."

"Then, yeah. I will."

I shuddered, closing my eyes against the emotion that swamped me. I wanted to both scream from the rooftops and pull the covers over out heads to block out the world. The relief was all encompassing. — Nicole Jacquelyn

[1965]
To my children
Dear Hildita, Aleidita, Camilo, Celia, And Ernesto,
If you ever have to read this letter, it will be because I am no longer with you. You practically will not remember me, and the smaller ones will not remember me at all.
Your father has been a man who acted on his beliefs and has certainly been loyal to his convictions.
Grow up as good revolutionaries. Study hard so that you can master technology, which allows us to master nature. Remember that the revolution is what is important, and each one of us, alone is worth nothing.
Above all, always be capable of feeling deeply any injustice committed against anyone, anywhere in the world. This is the most beautiful quality in a revolutionary.
Until forever, my children. I still hope to see you.
A great big kiss and a big hug from,
Papa — Ernesto Che Guevara

You had your heart broken much?"
He paused. "Of course. Everyone does. Part of life."
"Tell me her name. I'll kick her ass. I don't want anyone hurting you."
He rested his face against my hair, his tone even and gentle when he spoke. "You're wondrous and powerful and gifted, but even you can't save me from hurting. No one can do that for anyone. I can make things perfect in the fictions I create, but the real world isn't so kind. That's just how it is. And anyway, for every bad thing in life, there are more good things to tip the balance."
"Like what?"
"Like little blonde nieces. And royalty checks. And you. — Richelle Mead

For me George Bush is just as scary, if not more. Because he doesn't look like a scary guy, because he's shaved and he has a tie on. But he's a real fanatic - a fanatic by definition is the one who says, if you are not with me, you are against me, and that's exactly the position he takes. The mullahs in my country, it's obvious. But a guy who says I am the president of the biggest secular democracy in the world and asks people to read the Bible and make crusades and says he's God's best friend - this guy is even more scary because you don't see it at the beginning. — Marjane Satrapi

But yesterday the word of Caesar might
Have stood against the world; now lies he there.
And none so poor to do him reverence.
O masters, if I were disposed to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honourable men:
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
Than I will wrong such honourable men.
But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar;
I found it in his closet, 'tis his will:
Let but the commons hear this testament
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read
And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood,
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
Unto their issue. — William Shakespeare

He stared at her, his dark eyes unfathomable. "You could meet a better, worthier man."
She laughed, a strained, harsh sound. "I've already met one--he's marrying my sister!"
The words blazed forth, hanging in the air as though etched in fire, impossible to recall or deny. They stared at each other, scarcely breathing--then, in an instant, Trevenan closed the distance between them in one stride and pulled her to him, arms banding around her like iron.
Their mouths met in a fierce mutual claiming, and the world went white around them--white as lightning, white as the heart of a flame. Closing her eyes, Aurelia let herself fall, deep into a void where all that existed was his touch, his taste, and the hot, urgent press of his lips against hers. This, she thought hazily. Yes, this. And knew by his response, the guttural moan in his throat, that it was the same for him. Love, that is first and last of all things made...
"Damn you, James! Why couldn't you wait for me? — Pamela Sherwood

I don't know if you're in love with someone. If you're not, there's something I would like to say to you, and that is that love comes to everyone. All fifteen years of my experience in life tell me that the world is organized in such a way that all of us find someone to love. Unless we work against it. So if you're not in love with anyone but would like to be, you should try to discover which part of you is working against it. — Peter Hoeg

If we lived for ever, what you say would be true. But we have to die, we have to leave life presently. Injustice and greed would be the real thing if we lived for ever. As it is, we must hold to other things, because Death is coming. I love death - not morbidly, but because He explains. He shows me the emptiness of Money. Death and Money are the eternal foes. Not Death and Life. . . . Death destroys a man: the idea of Death saves him. Behind the coffins and the skeletons that stay the vulgar mind lies something so immense that all that is great in us responds to it. Men of the world may recoil from the charnel-house that they will one day enter, but Love knows better. Death is his foe, but his peer, and in their age-long struggle the thews of Love have been strengthened, and his vision cleared, until there is no one who can stand against him. — E. M. Forster

She raises her hands and places them on either side of my face. My skin burns beneath her touch. 'I think you're beautiful.'
I smile, thinking she's done. But she releases my face and places her palms on my chest, directly over my heart.
'You're beautiful right here,' she says.
I close my eyes, and the breath rushes from my lungs.
'I see the good in you, Dante,' Charlie continues, her words rolling together off her tongue. 'Even if you don't, I do. You have a good heart. You know how I know?'
I open my eyes. She's looking at me like nothing else in the world exists. Like the entire planet and all of mankind just vanished. She slowly wraps my hands inside her own as best she can and places them on her chest. 'Because I feel it here.' She taps our hands against her chest. 'I know you're good, Dante. Because I feel it inside of me. — Victoria Scott

Thought, sitting there, that everything is magic. Using things connects them to you, being in the world connects you to the world, the sun streams down magic and people and animals and plants grow from sunlight and the world turns and everything is magic. Fairies are more in the magic than in the world, and people are more in the world than in the magic. Maybe fairies, the ones that aren't lost dead people, are concentrations, personifications, of the magic? And God? God is in everything, moving through everything, is the pattern that everything makes, moving. That's why messing with magic so often becomes evil, because it's going against that pattern. I could almost see the pattern as the sun and clouds succeeded each other over the hills and I held the pain a little bit away, where it didn't hurt me. — Jo Walton

I like to think of the world's greatest athlete coming up to bat against me - Tiger Woods, Wayne Gretzky, I don't care who it is - and I'm looking at him thinking, you have no chance. — David Cone

Rules. Even as the world of phone and computer sex (and dominance) were full of their own rules, so was the new world of doing-it-for real. And some of these new rules, (OK, most of them, Robin admitted) were just as silly as the ones she had learned and followed before. Safe words, for example. Magic words that when said by the bottom, stopped a scene so that some kind of inconvenient or dangerous activity could be halted. Robin had nothing against the concept ...
Having a code to use so that you're free to pull against the bondage or whimper "no, no, no" seemed to be a great idea. But having all these possible ways to orchestrate what was happening seemed, well, contrary to the point ...
I want to feel that I can't stop it. I want to be really mastered, taken over by someone who isn't goin to stop doing things because I'm not getting off on it. Someone who knows enough not to endanger me, unless that was what was intended ... — Laura Antoniou

The sweetness of dogs (fifteen)
What do you say, Percy? I am thinking
of sitting out on the sand to watch
the moon rise. Full tonight.
So we go
and the moon rises, so beautiful it
makes me shudder, makes me think about
time and space, makes me take
measure of myself: one iota
pondering heaven. Thus we sit,
I thinking how grateful I am for the moon's
perfect beauty and also, oh! How rich
it is to love the world. Percy, meanwhile,
leans against me and gazes up into
my face. As though I were
his perfect moon. — Mary Oliver

derelict. my voice cracked and yolk poured out. wind chimes rigid, no breeze, no song. my wings found hidden in your suitcase. pleas for help mistaken for a swan song. i'm stuffing pages from my journal down my throat as kindling. hoping the smoke will get the taste of you out of my mouth. he looks at me from across the room and all i want is to push him against the wall. ravage. ravage. carnage has never been more vogue. is it still art if it doesn't bring you to your knees? lover, let me prey at your altar. let me bare my fangs in praise. don't i look so pretty in a funeral shroud? i keep time with the click of my creaking bones. dance with me under the milky translucence of a world suffocating. how did you find me? i buried myself beneath the cicadas. is a girl trapped in glass still a prize?
let me get under your skin. i want to know what your fears taste like. i want to consume. — Taylor Rhodes

A controlling relationship can start with over-the-top romantic gestures and gifts, and great protestations of you 'being the only one' and their love being a special kind of 'you and me against the world', often disconcertingly early in a relationship. There may be a charm campaign aimed at you and even friends and family, your other potential allies and 'protectors'. Suddenly or gradually there are rules, or flashes of mystifying rage or sulking designed to modify your behaviour to what they want you to do. Then the 'nice' person reappears, and all is well, he's romantic and doting again, before the next flashpoints of anger or rage or sullen tension. This is not a 'return to the good times'. It's the classic cycle of abuse, recognised — Kaz Cooke

And wasn't it this bright boy you selected for beating and tortures after hours? Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal. Each man the image of every other; then all are happy, for their are no mountains to make them cower, to judge themselves against. So! A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it. Take the shot from the weapon. Breach man's mind. Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man? Me? I won't stomach them for a minute. And so when houses were finally fireproofed completely, all over the world (you were correct in your assumption the other night) there was no longer need of firemen for the old purposes. They were given the new job, as custodians of our peace of mind, the focus of our understandable and rightful dread of being inferior: official censors, judges and executors. That's you, Montag, and that's me. — Ray Bradbury

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

Some even believe we (the Rockefeller family) are part of a secret cabal working against the best interests of the United States, characterizing my family and me as 'internationalists' and of conspiring with others around the world to build a more integrated global political and economic structure - one world, if you will. If that's the charge, I stand guilty, and I am proud of it. — David Rockefeller

I love you Camden. I love you so damn, fucking much and it's so right and it's so wrong because people are dying, and we're almost dying and Gus is out there and my mother and we can't trust anybody and all I can think about is you. All I can think about is how much I love you and how badly I fucked everything up and I I don't deserves you but I need you." I made a fist with my hands and pounded it against his chest, hard, my tears flowing. "I fucking need you and I need you to forgive me. I need that more than anything in the world! I need you to make me good."
He swallowed hard, letting me hit him, his fingers strong on my jaw. "Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. You are good, deep down you always have been. You don't need me for that. — Karina Halle

"I am so sorry, Joe," he whispered, gently pushing her hair away from her face and neck. "I know I keep fucking up," he said, pressing a kiss to her neck, "and that by all rights you should bitch slap me, but I can't stand the idea of you getting hurt."
His hand found its way to her panty clad hip and gave her a gentle squeeze. "It kills me to think of what could have happened that night, Joe," he explained softly as he pressed another kiss to her neck. "Do you have any idea how lost I would be without you?"
"You're my entire world, Joe," he said, pressing another kiss to her neck, this time lingering. "I don't know what I'd do without," he said against her skin. — R.L. Mathewson

I wanted to tell him a story, but I didn't. It's a story about a Jew riding in a streetcar, in Germany during the Third Reich, reading Goebbels' paper, the Volkische Beobachter. A non-Jewish acquaintance sits down next to him and says, "Why do you read the Beobachter?" "Look," says the Jew, "I work in a factory all day. When I get home, my wife nags me, the children are sick, and there's no money for food. What should I do on my way home, read the Jewish newspaper? Pogrom in Romania' 'Jews Murdered in Poland.' 'New Laws against Jews.' No, sir, a half-hour a day, on the streetcar, I read the Beobachter. 'Jews the World Capitalists,' 'Jews Control Russia,' 'Jews Rule in England.' That's me they're talking about. A half-hour a day I'm somebody. Leave me alone, friend. — Milton Sanford Mayer

And nail about it because you think it's meaningless, but the next thing you know you're sitting in a library staring at books filled with pictures of abstract artwork and your heart feels ready to explode." Levi turned to me as I stepped out from behind the corner. Our eyes locked, and he kept speaking. "Because you get it, you know? You get that the colors and the lines and the curves aren't trying to be like everything else in the world. You understand that the abstract art is standing out against the norm because it's the only way abstract art knows how to stand. And you get so fucking happy because it's so beautiful. And unique. And edgy. And ... abstract." The room filled with silence as the three of us stood with no words — Brittainy C. Cherry

It didn't make much sense to me then, what Gnut was going through, but after Pila and me had our little twins, and we put a family together, I got an understanding of how terrible love can be. You wish you hated those people, your wife and children, because you know the things the world will do to them, because you have done some of those things yourself. It's crazy-making, yet you cling to them with everything and close your eyes against the rest of it. But still you wake up late at night and lie there listening for the creak and splash of oars, the clank of steel, the sounds of men rowing toward your home. — Wells Tower

Maybe this is why so many serial killers work in pairs. It's nice not to feel alone in a world full of victims or enemies. It's no wonder Waltraud Wagner, the Austrian Angel of Death, convinced her friends to kill with her. It just seems natural. You and me against the world ... — Chuck Palahniuk

The majority never has right on its side. Never, I say! That is one of these social lies against which an independent, intelligent man must wage war. Who is it that constitute the majority of the population in a country? Is it the clever folk, or the stupid? I don't imagine you will dispute the fact that at present the stupid people are in an absolutely overwhelming majority all the world over. But, good Lord! - you can never pretend that it is right that the stupid folk should govern the clever ones I (Uproar and cries.) Oh, yes - you can shout me down, I know! But you cannot answer me. The majority has might on its side - unfortunately; but right it has not. I am in the right - I and a few other scattered individuals. The minority is always in the right. (Renewed uproar.) — Henrik Ibsen

I feel his kiss more intensely now, in the darkness of the room where his sister died. In the quiet of the house where his family died. In the stillness of the world where the life we knew before the Arrival died. He tastes my tears before I can feel them. Where there would be tears, his kiss. "I didn't save you, " he whispered, lips tickling my eyelashes. "You saved me." He repeats it over and over until we fall asleep pressed against each other, his voice in my ear, my tears in his mouth, "You saved me. — Rick Yancey

It's just you and me against the world, Pidge. — Jamie McGuire

When I walk into a room, you're the only person I see. My brain doesn't get a choice anymore, because there's something inside you so rare it radiates out and blocks everyone else. You have the kind of beauty that can't be manufactured - the kind that comes from in here." He tapped a finger against her chest. "I didn't know what real beauty was before I met you, but I get it now. So trust me when I say you're the most breathtaking girl in my world. — Melissa Landers

If you really love someone. You wouldn't hide them. You would be proud to let the whole world know that you have feelings for that special someone. If I got asked who do I love. I would straight up say the name. Just imagine how special that person would feel to know that you aren't afraid or embarrassed to let everyone know that person means a lot to you. However, sometimes its understandable especially when you have your friends or family against it. Which to me shouldn't matter because it's your life and we only live once. Even if it doesn't work out, we grow from our own experiences, right? — Jonathan Anthony Burkett

Kestrel, this isn't you."
She pressed back against the chill glass. "I don't know what you mean."
"This voice you've been using, that bright one...do you think I don't recognize it? It's the sound of you laying a trap. Of you hiding behind your own words. And I know that the way you've been talking is not you. Say what you want about me, about what happened between us, about the shape of the sun and the color of the grass and any other truths in this world you want to deny. Deny everything until the gods strike you down. But you can't say that I don't know you." He was now close enough that the air between them was alive against Kestrel's skin. "I... have thought about you." His voice dropped. "I have thought about how I have never known you to be dishonest with me. — Marie Rutkoski

The next day I was driven down to New York City to take the physical. It was one of the strangest things I'd ever seen. Several hundred young men, maybe even a thousand, in their skivvies, walking around an enormous room, all of us lost, dazed, and confused.
Some of these guys had dodged the draft and were there under the watchful eyes of dozens of federal marshals lined up against one of the walls. After eight hours of being poked, prodded, stuck, and poked again, I was given a large red envelope. I had been rejected. I had the respiratory problems of an old man, high blood pressure, partial loss of hearing, very bad teeth, very flat, very wide feet and I tested positive for tuberculosis.
"Frankly," the doctor said, "I don't know how the hell you're even standing up," and that was when the sergeant told me that if they bottled everything that was wrong with me "we could take over the world without a shot. — John William Tuohy

Girl in the wind
blowing wide open
the closed doors of my life -
which way are we going?

Standing against the lurid sky
on the stark brink of ocean
arms outstretched
as if your love and hunger
would embrace the world
and I in my inner room
playing my poetic premutations
can only look and ask the unanswerable.

Brave and cunning I speak to my typewriter
knowing it will not answer back
knowing it will not reply
what I ask and do not want to hear
as you with the vast sunset merge
a multitude of dreams away
uniquely alone and outside of me
in the purity and rarity of this moment
immeasurably beyond my love and my rage

and with the dying call of gulls
the echo resounds:

Girl in the wind
throwing aside
the tight shutters of my life -
which way are we going? — Christy Brown

I can't wait for the day when you tell me you've got the clap." He cocks his head to the side. "That's what you can't wait for? Out of everything in the world, that's what you can't wait for? Bear, that's just sad. And very, very mean of you. Just for that, if I do get the clap, I am going to pee in your mouth while you are sleeping, and then you can have the clap with me." He starts grabbing his crotch and moaning, and I laugh and try to get away, but he presses me up against the wall. An old couple walks out of the store and stares at us. He waves at them and says, "It's okay. We're gay. This is my life partner, Greg. — T.J. Klune

And now I believe I shall put my head on you," he announced. "The room has started to spin, and it's been a very long time since I've laid my head in a woman's lap."
Leah ceased laughing as he twisted and began to lie back. "No, my lord." His shoulders landed on her outstretched arms. "Sebastian! Let me up."
He groaned as she struggled against him. "I was beginning to wonder if you remembered my name. Please, be quiet. Just a moment." Reaching behind his head, he caught her hand and moved it to his mouth, where he pressed a kiss against her bare skin. "Only a moment, until the world turns itself aright again. — Ashley March

There's something
so great about this," she whispers.
About what?" I whisper back.
About this," she whispers.
About being outlaws.
It's just you and me - against the world. — Sonya Sones

And this is the most gorgeous ass in the world," he growled. "I almost started collecting panties for you, but somehow that just struck me as obsessive, don't you think?"
She shook her head.
"Good, then you won't be surprised when I pull out the few pairs I collected for you, no more than a few dozen, and ask you to wear them for me. Silk and satin and lace so delicate it's no more than a whisper against your flesh. I'll come just thinking of you wearing those panties beneath those mission pants you wear. They have ribbons too. And little bows. And some don't have a crotch. I could slip right inside you, and not have to worry about tearing them from you first. — Lora Leigh

His hand was on my throat, and he was crushing me back with his body into the cold steel beam behind me. "Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it's none of your business, I have lost. Many things. And no, I am not like any other player in this game and I will never be like V'lane, and I get a hard-on a great deal more often than occasionally." He leaned fully against me and I gasped.

"Sometimes it's over a spoiled little girl, not a woman at all. And yes, I trashed the bookstore when I couldn't find you. You'll have to choose a new bedroom, too. And I'm sorry your pretty little world got all screwed up, but everybody's does, and you go on. It's how you go on that defines you." His hand relaxed on my throat. "And I am going to tattoo you, Ms. Lane, however and wherever I please. — Karen Marie Moning

What were you chanting when you gave me your blood?"
"More of my vampire magic. I cast a healing spell to aid the powers of my blood."
She sniffled, her nose stuffy. "It was better than Vicodin."
"Vicodin?"
"A painkiller from my world."
"A killer of pain. Did you love him?" The words were growled.A burst of unexpected humor gave her strength. "No. In fact, he was hard to shake. He, uh, stalked me, that kind of thing. I had to pretend he didn't
exist."
Nicolai kissed her temple and relaxed against her. — Gena Showalter

You've got a better chance with me, Dru. Don't do something stupid again. If something happens, it's you and me against the world. Got it? — Lili St. Crow

Megan wanted to groan. "You guys are smothering me."
Braden leaned against the wall, watching it all, never speaking. Sexy and silent. Okay, so he had a few things going for him.
"Get used to it," Her father's voice brooked no refusal. "Until I leave this world, you are still my daughter and still under my protection."
"Protect Lance." She waved her hand at her smirking cousin. "He's in more danger than I am if he keeps pissing me off. Share the love, Dad. — Lora Leigh

I am afraid. I've never touched a married woman. You might not believe me, but this has been hard for me too because it goes against all of my beliefs. My parents, who are my world, have been happily married for thirty-seven years. I would kill anyone who tried to come between them. But it's nothing compared to keeping it inside. I can't hide it like you. And if I honestly thought he was the right person for you, I would walk away right now. — Jessica Hawkins

When I heard 'Moon River', at first I thought it was just a nice song, but then I started paying attention to the words and realized this song was about Huck Finn. I just love the words, that it's kind of you and me against the world, and we're going to make it together. — Drew Holcomb

You want to hear something really sad?' I whisper. 'You're my best friend.'
'You're right. That is really sad.' Oliver grins.
'That's not what I meant.'
'Are we still playing True Confessions?' he asks.
'Is that what we're doing?'
He reaches toward me and rubs a strand of my hair between his fingers. 'I think you're beautiful,' Oliver says. 'Inside and out.'
He leans forward from the tiniest bit and breathes in, closing his eyes, before he lets the hair fall back against my cheek. I feel it inside me, as if I've been shocked.
I don't pull away.
I don't want to pull away.
'I ... I don't know what to say,' I stammer.
Oliver's eyes light up. 'Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walk into mine,' he quotes. He moves slowly, so that I know what's coming, and kisses me. — Jodi Picoult

Hand drifting up, resting at the base of my throat. He's holding me protectively, my armor against the brutal outside world, but my mother sees it differently. She lets out a panicked noise as she rushes forward, descending the small porch steps and wavering in the yard. "It's okay," I say. "It's fine, Mom." "Please let her go," she pleads, ignoring me, her focus on Naz. "I'm begging you. Let her go, Vitale. — J.M. Darhower

May I kiss you?"

Finally. "Yes."

He smiled as he threaded his fingers through my hair. Carefully, he leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
His mouth was warm and gentle against my skin, but it wasn't enough. "Please tell me that wasn't what you meant."

He laughed softly. "There's more." He kissed my cheek, my jaw, and hovered a fraction above my mouth.

I ached for his kiss, and when the waiting stretched too long, I closed the distance.

He took over, which was just as well, because I forgot where I was or the time or my name. The only thing in the world was his mouth. That kiss. Us. — Elizabeth Langston

There were only ever two kinds of people in the world for Valentine," she said "Those who were fir the Circle and those who were against it. The latter were his enemies, and the former were his weapons in his arsenal. I saw him try to turn each of his friends, even his own wife, into a weapon for the Cause - and you want me to believe he wouldn't have done the same with his own son?" She shook her head. "I knew him better than that." For the first time, Maryse looked at him with more sadness than anger. "You are an arrow shot directly into the heart of the Clave, Jace. You are Valentine's arrow. Whether you know it or not. — Cassandra Clare

I know many people far more upright and conscientous than I am who disagree, who think nothing of it. I know that vegetarianism runs against mankind's most casual assumptions about the world and our place within it. And I know that factory farming is an economic inevitability, not likely to end anytime soon.
But I don't answer to inevitabilities, and neither do you. I don't answer to the economy. I don't answer to tradition and I don't answer to Everyone. For me, it comes down to a question of whether I am a man or just a consumer. Whether to reason or just to rationalize. Whether to heed my conscience or my every craving, to assert my free will or just my will. Whether to side with the powerful and comfortable or with the weak, afflicted, and forgotten. — Matthew Scully

I'm sorry I dragged you into this."
He leaned back against the low wall and folded his arms. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."
"You're trapped in the Chicago compound," I pointed out.
"Yeah, but I'm with the girl who's going to end the quarantine."
"What?" I stared at him.
He cut me a sly look. "The girl in Mack's stories always does."
"I'm not that girl."
"No," he agreed. "You're better. For one thing, you're real. And two, you fill out that dress better than a ten-year-old could. — Kat Falls

Look, I get it. I'm a white, heterosexual man. It's really easy for me to say, 'Oh, wow, wasn't the nineteenth century terrific?' But try this. Imagine the scene: It's pouring rain against a thick window. Outside, on Baker Street, the light from the gas lamps is so weak that it barely reaches the pavement. A fog swirls in the air, and the gas gives it a pale yellow glow. Mystery brews in every darkened corner, in every darkened room. And a man steps out into that dim, foggy world, and he can tell you the story of your life by the cut of your shirtsleeves. He can shine a light into the dimness, with only his intellect and his tobacco smoke to help him. Now. Tell me that's not awfully romantic? — Graham Moore

Augustus said. "You can't have this leg, and if you're thinking of overpowering me you have to calculate on losing about half the town. I can shoot straight when I'm drunk, too." "I only want to save your life," Dr. Mobley said, taking a drink from the first bottle before pouring Augustus a glassful. "It's my worry, mainly," Augustus said. "You stated your case, but the jury went against you. Jury of one. Did you pay the whore?" "I did," Dr. Mobley said. "Since you refuse company, you'll have to drink alone. I have to go deliver a child into this unhappy world." "It's a fine world, though rich in hardships at times," Augustus said. — Larry McMurtry

Common wisdom affirms against the drinking of whiskey during daylight hours, and while I can see the merits of the argument, it is not one to which I hold. True, a few fingers of liquor, or even a wide-stretched palm, degrades your ability to cope with the world's troubles, miseries and horrors; but it also makes you less concerned about them, and since the world is certain to throw more at you than you can handle regardless, I think it a more than equitable transaction. People call me the Warden.
People call me a lot of things, but the Warden is the only one you could say inside a church. — Daniel Polansky

It's been me and you against the world forever," he says. "It's always been that way. — Tahereh Mafi

If you'd given me the choice of going out and beating four men and smashing a goal in from thirty yards against Liverpool or going to bed with Miss World, it would have been a difficult choice. Luckily, I had both. — George Best

It was a story to tell myself, a promise. Saying out loud, "You're never going to touch me again" - that was a piece of magic, magic in the belly, the domed kingdom of sex, the terror place inside where rage and power live. Whiskey rush without whiskey, bravado and determination, this place where for the first time I knew no confusion, only outrage and pride. In the worst moments of my life, I have told myself that story, the story about a girl who stood up to a monster. Doing that, I make a piece of magic inside myself, magic to use against the meanness of the world. — Dorothy Allison

If the whole world seems like it's against you, it helps to know that you've still got home. A safe place. It just takes one person - a teacher, a friend, a parent. If I didn't have you and Dad, if you hadn't made it so clear you loved me as much as you did, or if you'd said, 'yeah, why don't you do it, and put yourself out of our misery, just shut up,' I would have killed myself. I really would have. I spent most of those days wishing I were dead anyway, and what always stopped me was the fact that doing so would destroy the lives of the only people who ever cared about me. — Nenia Campbell

When I was a kid I got mad enough to want to kill somebody but as you travel the world and I'm struggling with a freedom fight against nations, you can't get enough hate in you to be mad at one man just because it's a boxing match.Never. Even Floyd Paterson, who condemned my Islamic religion and didn't want to call me Muhammad Ali and said I should've gone to the army and I should be in jail. — Muhammad Ali

Captain Harvile: Poor Phoebe, she would not have forgotten him so soon. It was not in her nature.
Anne Elliot: It would not be in the nature of any woman who truly loved.
Captain Harvile: Do you claim that for your sex?
Anne Elliot: We do not forget you as soon as you forget us. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You always have business of some sort or other to take you back into the world.
Captain Harvile: I won't allow it to be any more man's nature than women's to be inconstant or to forget those they love or have loved. I believe the reverse. I believe ... Let me just observe that all histories are against you, all stories, prose, and verse. I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which did not have something to say on women's fickleness.
Anne Elliot: But they were all written by men. — Jane Austen

Kell has only two faces. The one he wears for the world at large, and the one he wears for those he loves." He sipped his wine.
"For us." Lila's expression hardened. "Whatever he feels for me, it isn't love."
"Because it isn't soft and sweet and doting?" Rhy rocked back, stretching against the pillar. "Do you know how many times he's nearly beat me senseless out of love? How many times I've done the same? I've seen the way he looks at those he hates ... " He shook his head. "There are very few things my brother cares about, and even fewer people. — Victoria Schwab

Don't judge me. You wanna judge me, put on a black gown and get a gavel. Get in line with the rest of them that's about to judge me. I got court dates every other month. It's me against the world - that's how I feel. — Lil' Wayne

Look at the two of us, barely out of childhood and already we're too old-fashioned for this changing world. Is it possible to be born old? Because I certainly feel it sometimes. How can we hope to stand against unstoppable progress; how can we possibly win a war against the forces of science?"
Oskan snorted.
"Which question do you want me to answer first? Born old? Yes, right now I feel ninety. And as for the rest, we're not fighting progress or science, they're both ideas that belong to people. Ideas that should help us to understand the beauty of our world and improve the lives of everything that lives in it. But the Empire has kidnapped them, and progress of its sort means sweeping aside everything that isn't new, whether good or bad. And to the Empire science is just a means of creating more efficient ways of killing people. — Stuart Hill

Savannah shook her head and banged it against the heavy muscles of his chest. "I hate this, Gregori. I feel so useless. I feel like I'm endangering you. We are lifemates. I asked you to meet me halfway in my world, and you've done it. You've done everything I've asked of you. What have I done to live in your world with you?"
Gregori bent his dark head to the slim white column of her neck. "You are my world, ma petite, my very existence. You are what makes living bearable. You are my light, the very air I breathe." His mouth brushed her pulse, her earlobe. "You are not meant to walk in death. You never were. — Christine Feehan

Juliette," he whispers,and I realize just how close he is. I'm not sure why I haven't evaporated into nothingness. "It's been me and you against the world forever," he says. "It's always been that way. It's my fault I took so long to do something about it."
"No," I'm shaking my head. "It's not your fault-"
"It is. I fell in love with you a long time ago. I just never had the guts to act on it."
"Because I could've killed you."
He laughts a quiet laugh."Because I didn't think I deserved you. — Tahereh Mafi

I saw a man swerve his car and try to hit a stray dog, but the quick mutt dodged between two parked cars and made his escape. God, I thought, did I just see what I think I saw? At the next red light, I pulled up beside the man and stared hard at him. He knew that'd I seen his murder attempt, but he didn't care. He smiled and yelled loud enough for me to hear him through our closed windows: 'Don't give me that face unless you're going to do something about it. Come on, tough guy, what are you going to do?' I didn't do anything. I turned right on the green. He turned left against traffic. I don't know what happened to that man or the dog, but I drove home and wrote this poem. Why do poets think they can change the world? The only life I can save is my own. — Sherman Alexie

Do you fancy catching a movie at the Sturbridge Theater tonight? That new Robert Pattinson movie is showing," I ask her, the phone cradled against my chest.
"Definitely sign me up for that!" Ari replies, chuckling as I mock scowl. Her easy laugh warms my soul.
"We're in," I tell Gil, arranging to meet him and his date in the diner later.
"So, who is it this time?" Ari asks, resting her chin in her hands. "Anyone we know?"
Considering I can count the girls on one hand who have enjoyed more than one date with Gil, I doubt it'll be someone familiar. "I didn't ask; guess we'll find out soon enough."
"Five bucks says it's a blonde," Ari quips.
"That's one bet I'm not taking," I admit, twirling a lock of her hair around my finger. "Gil's penchant for blondes is world-renowned. — Siobhan Davis

My father gave me a ruined boy to compensate for the fact that he does not love me.
The boy is fragile, broken - broke himself - broke everything.
I asked him why he did it. He said because the world was unlivable. He said it was unlovable, but I think he meant himself. I think he meant that loneliness is sometimes painful.
I curl against him, tuck my head beneath his chin and listen to his heart. It says stay and wait. It says regret. He knows what it is to want love, a love so fierce you grow roots. I hear his heart say please.
He went looking for angels and found me instead, girl of the sorrows, sad but not sorry. I waited for a sign, a star to fall. He reached for a knife and drew branches. — Brenna Yovanoff

I am talking about self absorbtion. If you think about it, the human race is pretty self absorbed. Racism might be the symptoms of a greater disease, What I mean is, as a human, I am flawed in that it is difficult for me to consider others before myself. It feels like I have a fight against this force, this current within me that more often than not wants to avoid serious issues and wants to please myself, buy things for myself, feed myself, entertain myself, and all that. All I am saying is that if we , as a species could fix our self absorption, we could end a lot of pain in the world. — Donald Miller

Let me say right now for the record,
I'm still going to be here
asking this world to dance,
even if it keeps stepping on my holy feet.

You, you stay here with me, okay?
You stay here with me.

Raising your bite against the bitter dark,
your bright longing,
your brilliant fists of loss.
Friend, if the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other,
my god that is plenty
my god that is enough
my god that is so so much for the light to give
each of us at each other's backs
whispering over and over and over,
"Live. Live. Live. — Andrea Gibson

Where else would I be? You need me? I'm there. It's you and me against the world now, right? — Michelle A. Valentine

You know, developments here remind me of the Internet. That old computer network, invented by the American scientific community. It was all about free communications. Very simple and widely distributed - there was never any central control. It spread worldwide in short order. It turned into the world's biggest piracy copy machine. The Chinese loved the Internet, they used it and turned it against us. They destroyed our information economy with it. Even then the net didn't go away - it just started breeding its virtual tribes, all these nomads and dissidents. — Bruce Sterling

No one's ever going to hurt you again, Taya. Not on my watch." There was no defense in the world that could protect her heart from him when he said things like that. Angling her head up, she cupped the back of his head and lifted up to give him a soft, lingering kiss. Just being near him made her feel safe, stronger. He reminded her of how hard she'd fought to live, how hard she'd battled to take back control over her life.
"You're making it really hard for me not to fall for you," she murmured against his lips. One side of his mouth kicked up as he lifted his head, his eyes glowing with a possessive light that thrilled her.
"Good," was all he said. — Kaylea Cross

i wished i couldn't care less
craved to couldn't care less
case me up, beetle skin
i wondered what the world felt like
when it only brushed up against you
and didn't make its home inside your belly
sweet sweet disconnect — Savannah Brown

It's you and me, M and M, against the world. — Kristen Proby

Every creative act is open war against The Way It Is. What you are saying when you make something is that the universe is not sufficient, and what it really needs is more you. And it does, actually; it does. Go look outside. You can't tell me that we are done making the world. — Jerry Holkins

It's lonely to say goodbye. Very lonely. Please. Cry with me. Maybe there's nothing we can do about this. But at least, for now ... cry with me. Like your entire body ... is screaming at the sky. Like it's raging against the world. I lost something. And I don't have a single guarantee. The fear of living in this world again after that ... I have only a shred of hope to sustain me. So I want you at least ... to cry. Cry. Cry with me. Like the day you were first born into this world. — Natsuki Takaya

It is for that moment when I might steady you so you don't fall, I have added my blood to an inkwell. Indelible now will be my mark on history's canvas and upon any sincere debate of God where reason finally prevails. And when you have the strength, you too may find another to hold up. They lean against each other in a storm, those cypresses grown tall together ... through the years. If they had not trusted and protected one another the way they do, they would not have survived and given us their grace and shade - a place for our eyes to meet. Our friendship can be like this: a needed lift, a sail, a pillar, a springboard to taste the unfathomable. It is to tend you as you come into being, like a new world, that causes me to stay, gives me a purpose. Of course I thank you for that ... for letting me help. — Rumi

I think that any woman who had a conversation with me and had an opportunity to truly understand my life story wouldn't view it through a critical lens. There are people, of course, in the world of politics, who look for things to be critical about. But those people are already against you. — Wendy Davis

Right at that moment it was as if we were the only two people left in the world. And I don't mean that to sound corny; it just honestly did. The only sounds were the droning crickets and chip-chips of the bats, the farawy wind against the sand, and the occasional distant yowl of a dingo. There were no car horns.No trains. No jack-hammers. No lawnmowers No planes. No sirens. No alarms. No anything human. If you'd told me that you'd saved me from a nuclear holocaust, I might have believed you. — Lucy Christopher

But then in middle school science, Mr. Martinez asked who among us had ever fantasized about living in the clouds, and everyone raised their hand. Then Mr. Martinez told us that up in the clouds the wind blew one hundred and fifty miles an hour and the temperature was thirty below zero and there was no oxygen and we'd all die within seconds."
"Sounds like a nice guy."
"He specialized in the murder of dreams, Hazel Grace.let me tell you. You think volcanoes are awesome? Tell that to the ten thousand screaming corpses at Pompeii. You still secretly believe that there is an element of magic to this world? It's all just soulless molecules bouncing against each other randomly. Do you worry about who will take care of you if your parents die? As well you should, because they will be worm food in the fullness of time. — John Green

The object most interesting to me for the residue of my life, will be to see you both developing daily those principles of virtue and goodness which will make you valuable to others and happy in yourselves, and acquiring those talents and that degree of science which will guard you at all times against ennui, the most dangerous poison of life. A mind always employed is always happy. This is the true secret, the grand recipe for felicity ... In a world which furnishes so many employments which are useful, and so many which are amusing, it is our own fault if we ever know what ennui is ... — Thomas Jefferson

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

I've only have time for one last lesson...
"I have you," Demandred finally growled, breathing heavily. "Who ever you are, I have you. You cannot win."
"You didn't listen to me," Lan whispered.
One last lesson. The hardest...
Demandred struck, and Lan saw his opening. Lan lunged forward, placing Demandred's sword point against his ow side and ramming himself forward onto it.
"I did not come here to win", Lan whispered, smiling, "I came here to kill you. Death is lighter that a feather."
Demandred's eyes opened wide, and he tried to pull back. Too late. Lan's sword took him straight through the throat.
The world grew dark as Lan slipped backward off the sword. He felt Nynaeve's fear and pain as he did, and he sent his love to her. — Robert Jordan

My Mother

My mother was not educated but she was the best teacher I've ever had in my entire life. She had what it's called natural wisdom, bless her precious soul. Here some of her teachings: Human Values:
Love: Learn to love because everything that's based on love has a deep rooted foundation.
Kindness: Be kind all the time but never let anyone take advantage of your kindness.
Peace: Learn to have peace with yourself when the world turns against you because it starts with you.
Honesty: Be honest to yourself and then to the others.
Respect: Respect others and they will respect you.
Openness: Be always transparent especially when you are hurting. Never pretend that it's all okay.
Loyalty: Always be loyal to your family and make sure your family comes before anything else.
She taught me to learn to compose myself when life gets tough and unfair to me.

I love you mama & Happy Mothers Day — Euginia Herlihy

Reading is a sage way to bump up against life. Reading may be an escape, but it is not an escape from my own life and problems. It is an escape from the narrow boundaries of being only me. Reading in some wonderful ways helps me find out who I am. When she was a young girl Patricia MacLachlan's mother encouraged her to "read a book and find out who you are." And it is true that in some ways reading defines me as it refines me. Reading enlarges my vision of the world; it helps me understand someone who is different from me. It makes me bigger on the inside. We tend to see the world from our own perspective; it is good to see it from the eyes of others. Good literature helps me understand who I am in relation to what others experience. Far from being an escape from reality, good literature is a window into reality. I read to feel life. — Gladys M. Hunt

Certainly a decade and a half out in the real world, bashing my head against things, probably made me into a more textured writer. It gives you something to write about. — Richard K. Morgan

She flapped her hands, anxious energy coursing through her. "How can you be so calm?"
He got to his feet, unfolding with an easy grace. He held out a hand, his dark eyes focused solemnly on hers. "Come with me."
"For what?"
"That's part of the lesson." Was it her imagination, or did a twinkle of humor stir in those eyes? "Center yourself, and grab onto the here and now."
That made no sense - what was he now, Sir Medieval Zen Master? But she slipped her hand into his strong, calloused one. He hauled her up until she bumped into his chest. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face until she looked in his eyes.
"Listen to the world around you. Hear the birds? Hear the small animals scurrying? You are in this moment, this moment only, and sometimes that's all you can do, all you can be." His finger pulled away, brushing against her skin, and he tapped her nose, stepping away. — Angela Quarles

Kat." He uttered my name like it was some kind of prayer, and then he pressed a kiss against the skin behind my ear. "I broke every rule of my kind to heal you and keep you with me. I ... burned down an entire city to keep you safe. I've killed for you. Did you think I'd forget what you mean to me? That anything in this world - in any world - would be stronger than my love for you? — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Now I stand on the knoll before the grave of Jacob Kahn, the cypress tall against the blue morning sky and the wind warm on my face. It is the only sense left me, I hear him say. There are colors in the wind, Asher Lev. Find your demons again and return to your work. Colors wait for you in the wind. Things were too comfortable for you. An artist needs a broken world in order to have pieces to shape into art. Isn't that right, Asher Lev? Comfort is death to art. Asher Lev, artist. Asher Lev, troubler. Asher Lev, my future. His voice weaves through the wind, and I add to it the words of the psalmist, " 'Protect me, O God, for I seek refuge in You. I say to the Lord, Your are my benefactor; there is no one above You ... ' " The wind is red and black in the trembling cypress. — Chaim Potok

But with dogs, we do have "bad dog." Bad dog exists. "Bad dog! Bad dog! Stole a biscuit, bad dog!" The dog is saying, "Who are you to judge me? You human beings who've had genocide, war against people of different creeds, colors, religions, and I stole a biscuit?! Is that a crime? People of the world!"
"Well, if you put it that way, I think you've got a point. Have another biscuit, sorry. — Eddie Izzard

Preston pulled me up against his chest and cupped my face in his hands. "I love you. I love you so damn much it consumes me. I don't deserve you, but I'm gonna become the man who does deserve you. I promise you. I'll make you proud of me."I reached up and ran my thumb over his lips. "I am and will always be proud of you. I want the world to know you're mine. — Abbi Glines

I'll do whatever you say, Cassie," he says helplessly. His eyes shine brighter than the stars overhead. "I understand why you have to go. If it were you inside that camp, I would go. A hundred thousand Silencers couldn't stop me."
He presses his lips against my ear and whispers low and fierce, as if he's sharing the most important secret in the world, which maybe he is.
"It's hopeless. And it's stupid. It's suicidal. But love is a weapon they have no answer for. They know how you think, but they can't know what you feel."
Not we. They.
A threshold has been crossed, and he isn't stupid. He knows it's the kind you can't cross back over. — Rick Yancey

It's you and me against the world. — Kylie Scott