John Ward Quotes & Sayings

And you kept fighting even after you were knocked down. Goddamn it, you dragged your ass off the ground and you kept fighting. - John Matthew, LOVER MINE — J.R. Ward

John's tattoo..Goddamn..He'd done it as a memorial to her-putting her name in his skin so she'd be with him always. After all, there was nothing more permanent than that-hell, that was why in the mating ceremony males got their backs carved up: Rings could get lost. — J.R. Ward

Tore up from the floor up. Followed by a big outtie.
John Mathew — J.R. Ward

John Boehner was and is an unprincipled ward-heeler who simply couldn't weather the transition of the Republican Party from a corporatist party with a sizable conservative base to a purely conservative party. — Alex Pareene

It was the wife, John thought. And she was giving this tough guy a tongue-lashing. And the man was taking it. "Okay. I love you. Bye." Tohrment flipped the phone closed and put it in his pocket. When he focused on John again, he clearly respected his wife enough not to roll his eyes and make some macho, shithead comment about pesky women. — J.R. Ward

Call me," she whispered to him with a confidence that would fade as the days passed.
Qhuinn smiled a little. "Take care."
At the sound of the two words, Blay relaxed, his big shoulders easing up. In Qhuinn-landia, "Take care" was synonymous with "I'm never going to see, call or fuck you again. — J.R. Ward

You are in a prison with no bars. I worry about you. — J.R. Ward

And speaking of on board, she'd moved into John's room properly. In his closet, her leathers and her muscles shirts were hanging next to his, and their shitkickers were lined up together, and all her knives and her guns and her little toys were now locked up in his fire proof cabinet. Their ammo was even stacked together. How frickin' romantic. — J.R. Ward

In the field of outdoor sports, the American boy is easily capable of devising his own amusements, and until some proof is adduced that baseball is not his invention, I protest against this systematic effort to rob him of his dues. — John Montgomery Ward

He wanted to be like Tohr. Heading out into the corridor, it was funny to have that running through his brain again, and its return kind of righted the world: Ever since he'd first met the guy, whether it was the Brother's size, or his intelligence, or the way he treated his female, or how he fought, or even the deep sound of his voice ... John had wanted to be like Tohr. This was good. This was ... right. — J.R. Ward

As his ears rang and his heart broke for her, he stayed strong against the gale force she let loose. After all, there was a reason why here and hear were seperated by so little and sounded one like the other. Bearing witness to her, he heard her and was there for her because that was all you could do during a fall apart.
But God, it pained him to see how she suffered. — J.R. Ward

At Tulliallan Police College DI John Rebus based at St. Leonard's police station in Edinburgh DI James "Jazz" McCullough based in Dundee DI Francis Gray based in Glasgow DS Stu Sutherland based in Livingston DI Thomas "Tam" Barclay based in Falkirk DC Allan Ward based in Dumfries DCI Archibald Tennant the Resurrection Men's boss Andrea Thomson career analyst The Rico Lomax Murder Case Eric "Rico" Lomax murder victim Fenella Rico's widow "Chib" Kelly Fenella's current lover, Glasgow bar owner and criminal Richard "Dickie" Diamond Rico's friend Malky Dickie's nephew, barman in Edinburgh Jenny Bell Dickie's onetime girlfriend Bernie Johns deceased Glasgow drug baron — Ian Rankin

After a moment, Wrath turned to John. "This is Lassiter, the fallen angel. One of the last times he was here on earth, there was a plague in central Europe-"
"Okay, that was so not my fault-"
"-which wiped out two-thirds of the human population."
"I'd like to remind you that you don't like humans."
"They smell bad when they're dead."
"All you mortal types do. — J.R. Ward

I'll let you in on a secret: I can't stand Jay Ward. I hate being compared to Rocky and Bullwinkle. It's just a different style of humor. — John Kricfalusi

Listen, you mind if I take a T.O. and check in for a sec," he interjected.
V's diamond eyes narrowed. "With who?"
Right on cue, John jumped in, asking about the Hummer and its rehab plan - like somebody waving a torch in front of a T. rex to redirect it. As V started talking about the SUV's future as lawn sculpture, Qhuinn nearly blew a kiss at his buddy. — J.R. Ward

Word of advice. These have a kick, so don't suck too hard -
Holy hypoxia, Batman. — J.R. Ward

Now i did think, The smoke will drive the bugs away. And, to some degree,it did. I'd be lying, though, if I claimed I became a smoker to ward off insects.I became a smoker because 1. I was on an Adirondack swing by myself, and 2. I had cigarettes, and 3.I figured that if everyone else could smoke a cigarette without coughing, I could damn well, too.In short, I didn't have a very good reason. So yeah, let's just say that 4.it was the bugs. I made it through three drags before I felt nauseuos and dizzy and only semipleasantly buzzed. I got up to leave As I stood, a voice behind me. — John Green

Imagine for a moment Napoleon I, to have borne the name of Jenkins, or Washington to have sustained the appellation of John Smith! — Artemas Ward

You almost died tonight, he wanted to say. You dumb son of a bitch, you nearly died ... and then what would we have done?
And not "we" as in the Brotherhood.
Not even "we" as in he and John.
More like ... "me". — J.R. Ward

Surely the test of a novel's characters is that you feel a strong interest in them and their affairs the good to be successful, the bad to suffer failure. Well, in John Ward, you feel no divided interest, no discriminating interest you want them all to land in hell together, and right away. — Mark Twain

Unlike the female of John's fantasies, this one spiked way high on the feminine scale and suffered from hair-related Tourette's, a condition that manifested itself in incessant — J.R. Ward

And it was funny. The silence of him had a bizarre effect on her. Normally, she was the quiet one in situations, preferring to keep her own council and not share her thoughts on anything. But with John's mute presence, she felt curiously compelled to talk.
"I'm stuffed," she said, lying back against the pillows. As he cocked a brow and lifted the last Danish, she shook her head.
"God ... no. I couldn't manage another thing."
And it was only then that he began to eat.
"You waited for me ?" she said, frowning. When he ducked her gaze and shrugged, she cursed softly.
" You didn't have to."
Another shrug. As she watched him, she murmured, "You have beautiful table manners."
His blush was the color of Valentine's Day and she had to tell her heart to calm the fuck down as it started to beat fast. — J.R. Ward

When they got to thew bottom of the stairwell, they stopped dead. Blay's father was facing off with a lesser, a Civil War sword in one hand, a dagger in the other.
Behind his Joe Friday glasses, his eyes were lit like torches, and they flicked over for a split second. "Stay out of this. This one's mine."
The shit was done faster than you can say, Ninja Dad.
Blay's father went Ginsu on the slayer, carving the thing up like a turkey, then stabbing it back to the Omega. — J.R. Ward

You're one in a million, John Matthew, — J.R. Ward

Appreciating a private room. In a public ward the messy proceeding would have taken place a whole unnecessary hour — John Wyndham

A few minutes later, John got up, put his clothes back on, palmed his liquor bottle, and left.
As the door clicked shut, Xhex pulled the duvet over herself.
She did nothing to try to control the shakes that rattled her body, and didn't attempt to stop herself from crying. Tears left both of her eyes at the far corners, slipping out and flowing over her temples. Some landed in her ears. Some eased down her neck and were absorbed by the pillow. Others clouded her vision, as if they didn't want to leave home.
Feeling ridiculous, she put her hands to her face and captured them as best she could, wiping them on the duvet.
She cried for hours.
Alone. — J.R. Ward

The only thing that had tethered her to the earth had been him and it was strange, but she felt welded to him on some core level now. He had seen her at her absolute worst, at her weakest and most insane, and he hadn't looked away. He hadn't judged and he hadn't been burned.
It was as if in the heat of her meltdown they had melted together.
This was more than emotion. It was a matter of soul. — J.R. Ward

Wellsie frowned. "I'd like you to stay away from him, okay? He's ... not right in a lot of ways. Do you know what I mean?"
Actually, John wasn't so sure about that. Yeah, the guy was enough to make you think fondly of the boogeyman sometimes, but clearly he wasn't all bad. — J.R. Ward

John?
As it was dark he whistled a what.
You are such a male of worth, you know that. You really are. — J.R. Ward

Scrambling through the drifts, Blay rushed over and landed on his knees. Qhuinn was sprawled on the ground, his long, heavy legs stretched out, his upper body in John's lap.
The male just stared at him with those mismatched eyes, unmoving, unspeaking.
"Is he paralyzed?" Blay demanded, looking over at John.
"Not that I'm aware of," Qhuinn replied dryly.
I think he's got a concussion, John signed.
"I do not - "
He went flying off the hood of his car and hit this tree
"I mostly missed the tree - "
And I've had to hold him down ever since.
"Which is pissing me off - — J.R. Ward

In the far corner, a tenor began to sing, Zsadist's crystal-clear voice sailing up toward the warrior paintings on the ceiling far, far above them all. At first John didn't know what the song was ... although if he'd been asked what his name was, he would have said Santa Claus, or Luther Vandross, or Teddy Roosevelt.
Maybe even Joan Collins. — J.R. Ward

I would hold you up. I will ever hold you up and hold you dear, lover mine. — J.R. Ward

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him. And I'm out here waiting only because I was making him crazy. The sight of me ... isn't good for his mental health at this moment. I'm hoping that's no longer true after he breaks this second treadmill."
"Second?"
"I'm pretty damn sure that flapping and the smell of smoke about fifteen minutes ago meant he ran one of them into the ground."
"Damn."
"Yup. — J.R. Ward

He was having an illicit affair ... with his own mate. — J.R. Ward

It's ward to believe in coincidences, but it's even hard to believe in anything else — John Green

My final two cents worth of advice is to develop an all-consuming curiosity for things both exotic and ordinary. Read, observe, analyze, and become involved with a variety of interests. Study, practice, delve, probe, investigate, and above all, be flexible. Keep an open mind. The world is changing fast. Don't get caught in the corner of the ring.
- Ward Kimball — John Canemaker

In circumstances as dark as these, it becomes us, as Men and Christians, to reflect that whilst every prudent measure should be taken to ward off the impending judgments, ... at the same time all confidence must be withheld from the means we use; and reposed only on that God rules in the armies of Heaven, and without His whole blessing, the best human counsels are but foolishness. — John Hancock

She did nothing to try to control the shakes that rattled her body,and didn't attempt to stop herself from crying. Tears left both of her eyes at the far corners,slipping out and flowing over her temples.Some landed in her ears. Some eased down her neck and were absorbed by the pillow.Others clouded her vision,as if they didn't want to leave home. — J.R. Ward

No, you've got it all wrong, John." Reading his emotions, she shook her head. "You're not half the male you could be because of what was done to you. You're twice what anyone else is because you survived. — J.R. Ward

It was hard to explain. But what was between them went further than a mating ceremony or a back carving or a witnessed exchange of commitment. He couldn't put his finger on the why of it ... but she was his missing puzzle piece, the twelfth in his dozen, the first and last pages of his book. — J.R. Ward

The row of villas which lines Western Avenue is like a row of pink graves in a field of grey; an architectural image of middle age. Their uniformity is the discipline of growing old, of dying without violence and living without success. They are houses which have got the better of their occupants, whom they change at will, and do not change themselves. Furniture vans glide respectfully among them like hearses, discreetly removing the dead and introducing the living. Now and then some tenant will raise his hand, expending pots of paint on the woodwork or labour on the garden, but his efforts no more alter the house than flowers a hospital ward, and the grass will grow its own way, like grass on a grave. — John Le Carre

I think that's Justin Bieber.
Standing in front of a line up of Lay's potato chips, Qhuinn looked overhead to the speaker inset into the ceiling tiles. Yup, I'm right, and I hate that I know that.
Next to him John Matthew signed, How do you know?
The little shit is everywhere.
I swear, that kid is proof the Antichrist is coming.
Maybe it's already here.
Would explain Miley Cyrus. — J.R. Ward

John-who-wasn't-gonna-get-none — J.R. Ward

The thing had woken him up as usual, an alarm clock. as reliable and stiff off the ground as Big Fucking Ben. [John Matthew] — J.R. Ward

She'd ended up passing out, and sometime later, John must have gotten up to use the loo and left the light on. Probably to make sure she didn't feel lost if she woke up.
Because that's the kind of male he was. — J.R. Ward

What is the Bible in your house? It is not the Old Testament, it is not the New Testament, it is not the Gospel according to Matthew, or Mark, or Luke, or John; it is the Gospel according to William; it is the Gospel according to Mary; it is the Gospel according to Henry and James; it is the Gospel according to your name. You write your own Bible. — Henry Ward Beecher

I want you to know ... that you can trust me.
John locked eyes with her and was instantly transported to a different plane of existence. Mighta been heaven again. Who the fuck knew or cared. All he knew was that there was only her and him together, the rest of the world drifting away into fog.
Was it possible to fall in love with someone twice, he wondered dimly. — J.R. Ward

Tohr: "Doesn't have to be easy to be right."
John: "In that case, we're meant for each other. — J.R. Ward

I ask particularly that those of you who are now in school will prepare yourselves to bear the burden of leadership over the next 40 years here in the United States, and make sure that the United States - which I believe almost alone has maintained watch and ward for freedom - that the United States meet its responsibility. That is a wonderful challenge for us as a people. — John F. Kennedy

Baseball cannot be learned as a trade. It begins with the sport of the schoolboy, and though it may end in the professional, I am sure there is not a single one of these who learned the game with the expectation of making it a business. There have been years in the life of each during which he must have ate and drank and dreamed baseball. — John Montgomery Ward

Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening, asking please, for God's sake, stop sending him signals that they were right for each other. He'd read that book, seen the movie, bought the soundtrack, the DVD, the T-shirt, the mug, the bobble-head, and the insider's guide. He knew every reason they could have been lock and key.
But just as he was aware of all that aligned them, he was even clearer on how they were damned to be ever apart. — J.R. Ward

Up ahead about two blocks, a massive figure stepped out into her path.
She halted. Took a deep breath. Felt a prickling in her eyes.
On the breeze drifting down to her, John's unmistakable bonding scent was a dark spice that wiped out the stink of the city and the wretched sting of her unhappiness.
She started walking toward him. Fast. Faster ...
Now she was running.
He met her halfway, falling into a jog as soon as he saw her pick up the pace, and they slammed into each other.
Hard to know whose mouth found whose, or whose arms were cinched tighter, or who was the desperate one.
But then, in this they were equals. — J.R. Ward

The essential truth of life, he was coming to realize, wasn't romantic
and took only two words to label: Shit. Happens.
But the thing was, you kept going. You kept your friends and your
family and your mate as safe as you were able. And you kept fighting even
after you were knocked down. — J.R. Ward

Whoever has not experienced the pleasure of taking a young lady to her first game of ball should seize the first opportunity to do so. Her remarks about plays, her opinions of different players and the umpire, and the questions she will ask concerning the game, are all too funny to be missed. — John Montgomery Ward

With a quick jerk, Qhuinn wrapped his arms around the single most important person in his life. It was not Layla, although he felt a pang at that denial. It was not John, or his king. It wasn't the brothers. This male was the reason for everything. — J.R. Ward

The Blue Chest of Rachel Ward" was another "ower-true tale." Rachel Ward was Eliza Montgomery, a cousin of my father's, who died in Toronto a few years ago. The blue chest was in the kitchen of Uncle John Campbell's house at Park Corner from 1849 until her death. We children heard its story many a time and speculated and dreamed over its contents, as we sat on it to study our lessons or eat our bed-time snacks. — L.M. Montgomery

Holy shit . . . They'd joined the war. — J.R. Ward

Jail was preferable. There they only limited you physically. In a mental ward they tampered with your soul and worldview and mind. — John Kennedy Toole

John Wesley quaintly observed that the road to heaven is a narrow path, not intended for wheels, and that to ride in a coach here and to go to heaven hereafter, was a happiness too much for man. — Henry Ward Beecher

John took his fucking time in Xhex's shower , washing himself thoroughly not because he was dirty, but because he figured two could play at the whole whip-the-state-clean, what-happened-didn't-happen thing. — J.R. Ward

Ride?" Rhage snorted. "Please. That thing is a sewing machine with an air dam taped to it. My GTO could dust the fucker in fourth gear from a dead stop."
When there was an odd sound from behind, John looked back. So did the three Brothers.
"What." Xhex bristled and crossed her arms over her chest. "I can laugh, you know. And that's ... pretty damn funny."
Rhage beamed. "I knew I liked you. — J.R. Ward

They divided the city into three electoral wards, and in one ward there was 70 percent of the people, the Catholic population, and they elected eight representatives to the city council. — John Hume

Baseball grew rapidly in favor; the field was ripe. America needed a live outdoor sport, and this game exactly suited the national temperament. It required all the manly qualities of activity, endurance, pluck, and skill peculiar to cricket, and was immeasurably superior to that game in exciting features. — John Montgomery Ward

Xhex couldn't stop herself from torturing them both. She sent him a mental scene, drilling the image right into his head : the two of them in a private bathroom, him up on the sink and leaning back, her with one foot planted on the counter, his sex deep in hers, the two of them panting. While he stared accross the crowded room, John's mouth parted, and the flush on his cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the orgasm that was no doubt pounding up his shaft. God, she wanted him. His buddy, the readhead, snapped her out of the madness. Blaylock came back to the table with three beers hanging from their necks, and as he took a look at John's hard, sexep-up face, he stopped short and glanced over at her in surprise.
Shit.
Xhex waved off the bouncers who were coming up to her and walked out of the VIP section so fast, she nearly bowling-pinned a waitress. Her office was the only place that was safe, and she headed there at a dead run. — J.R. Ward

John Matthew was her well of soul, as the symphaths called it,or her pyrocant, to the vampires. Her essential weakness. — J.R. Ward

I refuse to spend my life worrying about what I eat. There is no pleasure worth forgoing just for an extra three years in the geriatric ward. — John Mortimer

Then again, he supposed the healing process, in contrast to trauma, was gentle and slow ... The soft closing of a door, rather than a slam.- John — J.R. Ward

He nodded and curled over his paper, writing quickly. As his words took form on the white page, she got to watch him ... and realized she never wanted him to go. She wanted him here beside her forever. — J.R. Ward

She wanted to say something smart and kind, put together some combination of words to reach him where he'd reached her with his. But the thing was, there was more courage in these revelations of his than she had ever shown anyone, and in a world that was full of taking and cruelty, he was fucking breaking her heart with what he was giving her. — J.R. Ward

I catch you without your ahstrux nohtrum again, I'm turning you in."
Qhuinn cursed. "Yeah, and then I'll get fired. Which means V'll Donald trump my ass with a dagger. You're welcome. — J.R. Ward

In a quiet voice, he said, "How long's this been going on for you? With her."
John took out a small pad he'd brought with him and wrote: Since the moment I first met her.
After Rehv read the scribble, he frowned. "She feel the same way?"
John did not drop his eyes as he shook his head. No sense hiding shit. Not with a symphath.
Rehv nodded once. "That's so like her. Goddamn it ... okay, let's do this. — J.R. Ward

When he turned back around, his characteristic smart-ass smile was back in place. "Your wish is my command, prince of mine."
Don't call me that.
"How about good ol'-fashioned 'master'?" When John just glared over his shoulder, Quinn shrugged. "Fine. I'll go with fathead then. But that's your damage, I gave you options." [John & Qhuinn] — J.R. Ward

He thinks I love him. As in ... in love with him. Yeah. Go fig. Me in love with Qhuinn ... a guy who, when he's not moody, is a slut and smart-ass. Except you want to know what the most fucked-up thing is, though? He's right. — J.R. Ward

My ward had arisen. She had slept so hard her eyes looked puffy, but she had acquainted herself with the equipment in my stainless steel galley, and she wore a pretty cotton dress, which hung just a little loosely on her, and she had taken two generous steaks out of the locker and set them out to thaw. She seemed a little more aware of the situation, shyly aware that she might be a nuisance. — John D. MacDonald

Amazing, John thought as he stood behind Xhex. If you looked down at your cock and balls and told them that if they behaved badly you would slice them up and bury them in the back yard, they actually listened to you. — J.R. Ward

And bottom line, without John by her side, everything seemed to be just a big, resounding meh. — J.R. Ward

The truth was ... he was in love with her. Totally over-the-line, no-going-back, not-even-dead-would-he-part kind of shit. — J.R. Ward

Phury glanced at John and thought that sometimes it took only a hairbreadth between cars to avoid a mortal accident. Sometimes your whole life could hinge on a fraction of an inch. Or the beat of a nanosecond. Or the knock on a door. Kind of made a male believe in the divine. — J.R. Ward

Slipping in the side door to the VIP section , she scanned the crowd , well aware that she was looking for one male in particular.
And he was there.
Fucking John Matthew. — J.R. Ward

I got this Christmas gift with the entire Beatles catalog. I had fun trying to duplicate what I was hearing on these records, only using the instruments I had at hand - an acoustic guitar, and that's all. It was endlessly amusing to me to try to imitate John Lennon and Paul McCartney's harmonies using the guitar. — M. Ward

Trust me, son. The pair of you are going to do this from time to time, and you might as well start to deal with it rationally now. Took me a good fifty years of making shit worse till I figured out a better way to handle arguments. Learn from my mistakes."
John's head cranked over, and he started to mouth, I love her so much. I'd die if anything happened to h
When he stopped short, Tohr took a deep breath through the pain in his chest. "I know. Trust me ... I know. — J.R. Ward

Just don't go out fighting. I don't need to know where you're going, that's your biz. But if you get yourself killed, I got ninety-nine problems and you're the biggest one of them. Rehv to John — J.R. Ward

Does Britannia, when she sleeps, dream? Is America her dream?
in which all that cannot pass in the metropolitan Wakefulness is allow'd Expression away in the restless Slumber of these Provinces, and on West-ward, wherever 'tis not yet mapp'd, nor written down, nor ever, by the majority of Mankind, seen,
serving as a very Rubbish-Tip for subjunctive Hopes, for all that may yet be true,
Earthly Paradise, Fountain of Youth, Realms of Prester John, Christ's Kingdom, ever behind the sunset, safe til the next Territory to the West be seen and recorded, measur'd and tied in, back into the Net-Work of Points already known, that slowly triangulates its Way into the Continent, changing all from subjunctive to declarative, reducing Possibilities to Simplicities that serve the ends of Governments,
winning away from the realm of the Sacred, its Borderlands one by one, and assuming them unto the bare mortal World that is our home, and our Despair. — Thomas Pynchon

Heck, I drank no more than John Wayne or Ward Bond or Spencer Tracy or Alan Ladd or Robert Walker. But it got me into a lot more trouble. — John Agar

As they passed, Duke nodded, and John Matthew, as he was called, did the same - and that was the extent of it. No one had ever heard the SOB say a word, but by the same token, anyone built like that didn't have to talk. — J.R. Ward

Xhex: John, she said softty. He paused and looked over his shoulder toward the bed. I love you. His handsome face tightened in pain, and he rubbed the middle of his chest, as if someone had fisted up his heart and squeezed it dead. And then he turned away. As she hit the confines of her prison ... She was screaming at the top of her lungs. — J.R. Ward