Quotes & Sayings About Not Letting Her Go

But it's not enough. I don't look human. If I went outside, people would scream at the sight of me. Looks matter to most people. That's reality in the world."
"Not my world."
I petted Pilot. "I like your world, Will, but it doesn't have a very big population. I'm going to let her go. — Alex Flinn

He paused leaning over to lay his lips on hers, "It's time to feel again. Let me save you from yourself. You were drowning when I found you, but I'm not letting you go, not without a fight." He kissed her sweetly and moved back standing up and over her. Lena looked up at his out stretched hand.
"Take my hand Lena." He offered and she knew he meant it in a way that went far beyond offering to help her stand. — Ella Frank

She was resilient
A brave soldier when life tested her
It didn't matter that she did strange things
like stand tall under the rain
letting the drops kiss her skin
thinking the storm was romantic
It was hard to quiet her
not that you would want to
when she spoke, it was captivating
Her heart was like a candle
warm and delicate
just what you needed during darkness
Sometimes, she'd go off and explore the world
test her limits
laugh too much
cry when humans were cruel
It wasn't hard to see why people envied her
You'd come to realize she was a lion
and she could not be tamed. — M.J. Abraham

This is the weird aftermath, when it is not exactly over, and yet you have given it up. You go back and forth in your head, often, about giving it up. It's hard to understand, when you are sitting there in your chair, having breakfast or whatever, that giving it up is stronger than holding on, that "letting yourself go" could mean you have succeeded rather than failed. You eat your goddamn Cheerios and bicker with the bitch in your head that keeps telling you you're fat and weak: Shut up, you say, I'm busy, leave me alone. When she leaves you alone, there's a silence and a solitude that will take some getting used to. You will miss her sometimes ... There is, in the end, the letting go. — Marya Hornbacher

It's as if every soft curve of her fantastic figure was made solely for my pleasure and punishment; her pussy made strictly for my cock to fuck. Every inch of her was made for me and only me and I'm not letting this one go. She's mine. — Ella Dominguez

There she stood, frightened, yet brave, not letting go her hold on what she meant to do, even when things seemed to be most against her. — Elizabeth Gaskell

I watched her with the crab as she ignored all my admonitions that the poor crab just needed to be set free if he was to have any chance of surviving. And God showed up there on that beach to teach me a lesson. Nothing survives when it's being smothered. Life, real life, requires being free to move about in the great big ocean, not being cradled in little hot hands that will stifle independence and creativity. We can't keep our crabs (or our kids) in a bucket and expect them to go far in life. — Melanie Shankle

Rebecca glared at her. "Congratulations. You just cost me a million dollar account." Brianna crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh don't worry. I'm sure with your talents you could earn another mil in no time. I'll tell them to clear a street corner for you." Rebecca lunged for her and Alessandro stepped between the two women. "Brianna, come on," he said guiding his wife away from the table. "What? I'm not a child. I can handle her." "I'm sure you can." He informed the waiter they would be taking their bottle of sparkling cider home. "But you're letting your emotions get away with you. Your brother is a grown man and can handle himself." Brianna blew a raspberry at him. "Oh yes, quite mature. Let's go home." He guided her towards the entrance. — E. Jamie

I regret not telling her how much she meant to me, how much I'd miss her, how devastated I'd be to see her go. If I could have one more second more with her, I would spend it whispering how much I love her into her ear and hugging her, just hugging her, and not letting go until she finally slipped away into nothing. — L.M. Augustine

As of this moment, my ill-considered arrangement with Penny needs to be drowned in the Potomac, because I've tasted beautiful and I'm not letting her go. — Ainsley Booth

I hadn't thought about Mom as much as I probably should have lately. It was a relief not to have all those emotional waves rolling through me at the mere vision of her face in my mind. Letting go of all the negative thoughts was like blowing out a giant gulp of air that I'd been holding in for what seemed like eternity. — Karen Ann Hopkins

One of the problems that people commonly have in their adult relationships if they have never received a firm commitment from their parents is the "I'll desert you before you desert me" syndrome. This syndrome will take many forms or disguises. One form was Rachel's frigidity. Although it was never on a conscious level, what Rachel's frigidity was expressing to her husband and previous boyfriends was, "I'm not going to give myself to you when I know damn well that you're going to dump me one of these days." For Rachel, "letting go," sexually or otherwise, represented — M. Scott Peck

Don't you think we're going to go to hell for this?" asked Lissa.
He reached out and touched her face, trailing his fingers along her cheek and neck and down to the top of her silky shirt. She breathed heavily at that touch, at the way it could be so gentle and small, yet evoke such a strong passion within her.
"For this?" He played with the shirt's edge, letting his finger just barely brush inside of it.
"No," she laughed. "For this." She gestured around the attic. "This is a church. We shouldn't be doing this kind of, um, thing up here."
"Not true," he argued. Gently, he pushed her onto her back and leaned over her. "The church is downstairs. This is just storage. God won't mind. — Richelle Mead

I told her that letting go is not a choice, in many ways. You try to move on, perhaps. But it comes of its own accord, in the end; it happens when it is ready to, and it mostly comes by without announcement or being noticed at all. I'll always miss my husband. I won't ever be the person I was before ... You don't mend fully, I tell her. But you mend enough, in time. — Susan Fletcher

first, he called idiot savant. The type of person who is so smart in his or her field of expertise that their mind is literally elsewhere. In layman's terms he explained that these people were smart in school and dumb on the bus. The second category was made up of perfectionists, people who were incapable of letting go of one task and moving on to another. These people were always playing catch-up, rarely rose to any real position of power, and needed to be managed properly. The third category, and the one to be most wary of, were the egomaniacs. These were the people who not only felt that their time was more important than anyone else's, but who needed to prove it by constantly making others wait — Vince Flynn

That's the one thing you wake up with every day: How long have I got left? And that's the saddest thing in the world, because you have this absolute realization that everything you love you're going to have to let go of and give up. I look at my daughter and I think, There's going to be a point where I'm not going to be around for her. Even the thought of that breaks my heart. — Moby

I would give anything not to have to spend the next twenty minutes sitting across from her, because she doesn't believe in letting silence go. No, she has to fill it up with talk. I want to tell her that's what the voices in your head are for, to get you through all the silent parts. But she doesn't want to be with her thoughts unless she's saying them out loud — John Green

In London, she'd overheard more than one matron decrying what they considered Esme Byron's inappropriate eccentricities, aghast that she was allowed so much personal freedom and the ability to voice opinions they considered unsuitable for an unmarried young woman barely out of the schoolroom. But her family always stood by her, proud of her artistic talent and uniformly deaf to the complaints of any critics who might say she needed a firmer hand.
'What must Ned and Mama be thinking now?' Were they regretting that they had not listened to those critics? Wishing they'd kept a tighter rein on her activities rather than letting her venture out as she chose?
But she would have gone mad being constrained and confined the way she knew most girls her age were. She could never have been borne the suffocating restrictions, the smothering tedium of being expected to go everywhere with a chaperone in tow, or worse, being cooped up inside doing embroidery or playing the pianoforte. — Tracy Anne Warren

In the Somali culture many things go unsaid: how we love, who we love and why we love that way. I don't know why Suldana loves the way she does. I don't know why she loves who she does. But I do know that by respecting her privacy I am letting her dream in a way that my generation was not capable of. I'm letting her reach for something neither one of us can articulate. — Diriye Osman

Alexander - " "Now that it's morning, I'm suddenly Alexander again?" Gazing up at him, Tatiana whispered, "Oh, Shura ... " And Alexander could no longer bear it. He bent to her face and kissed her. Her lips were as soft and young and full as he had imagined them to be. Tatiana's whole body started to tremble as she kissed him back with such tenderness, such passion, such need that Alexander involuntarily emitted a small groan. He was bewildered by her hands pressing his head into hers and not letting go. "Oh, God ... " he whispered into her parted mouth. — Paullina Simons

On this Thursday, on this particular walk to school, there was an old frog croaking in the stream behind the hedge as we went by.
'Can you hear him, Danny?'
'Yes,' I said,
'That is a bullfrog calling to his wife. He does it by blowing out his dewlap and letting it go with a burp.'
'What is a dewlap?' I asked.
'It's the loose skin on his throat. He can blow it up just like a balloon.'
'What happens when his wife hears him?'
'She goes hopping over to him. She is very happy to have been invited. But I'll tell you something very funny about the old bullfrog. He often becomes so pleased with the sound of his own voice that his wife has to nudge him several times before he'll stop his burping and turn round to hug her.'
That made me laugh.
'Dont laugh too loud,' he said, twinkling at me with his eyes. 'We men are not so very different from the bullfrog. — Roald Dahl

Where are you going?" he asked as she clomped down the bleachers in her heavy black boots. "I don't know." "I'll walk you," he said as he stood and followed her. "No." "I'm not going to let you walk alone at this time at night." She stepped off the last bleacher and walked across the track to the football field. She looked over her shoulder. "Stop following me." Once she reached the middle of the field, she looked back again. "I said, stop following me." "I'm' not letting you walk alone." That made her stop and turn to him. "What is the matter with you? Stop being so ... so ... " "What?" "Nice to me." She lowered herself to the ground and sat cross-legged. " I'm sitting here until you go away." This didn't exactly have the effect she wanted. "Don't sit beside me. Don't ... " She sighed when Sawyer sat beside her, right there on the fifty yard line. — Sarah Addison Allen

I don't think many people were, but I love the black, the tassels and the leather, obviously. I'm still wearing that. I haven't let go of that. I love all things leather, and so I love that from her outfits as well. But I don't know if I would necessarily do the Mozart top, the button down, the 'Hot For Teacher' kind of look. That's not really my thing. I would let that one go. — Malin Akerman

I don't know exactly how to handle this, but I know one thing for sure; now that she's back, there is no fucking way that I'm letting her go again. I lost her once and I will not fucking lose her again. — Morgan Nicole

You're not weak." He stalked toward her. The gleam in those grey eyes sent heat to her sex. "What did you mean by finding me and not letting me go?" She swallowed. "I ... you're the one who's my potential true mate." He stopped a couple of inches from her and cupped her face. She covered his hand with hers and watched shock, confusion, and hint of joy pass over his handsome features in a swirl of emotion. — Lia Davis

Woman is a violent and uncontrolled animal, and it is useless to let go the reins and then expect her not to kick over the traces. You must keep her on a tight rein ... Women want total freedom or rather - to call things by their names - total licence. If you allow them to achieve complete equality with men, do you think they will be easier to live with? Not at all. Once they have achieved equality, they will be your masters ... — Cato The Elder

Don't let her go. She needs you to save her. She needs her knight in shining armor, not a man who'd let her go. This is twice, Prentice, and you don't even know this is all on you. Twenty years, and it's all YOU. You should have gone to save her the last time and you let her go. This is the same. She isn't leaving you, she has this idea that she's saving you. This is NOT her LEAVING. This is YOU LETTING HER GO — Kristen Ashley

No. You show her how very much you love her by not letting her go. — Maya Banks

You're not terrified of me. You're terrified of letting yourself care for me, and I can't say I blame you. People who love me usually end up dead. But you see, I'm not going to give you any choice. You belong to me now whether you like it or not."
"I don't like it, not one bit!"
"Try to escape," he suggested coolly. "Go ahead. See what happens. Give me one excuse to take what I want from you, even if it is against your will. I want you that much. Too damned much." He turned without warning and kissed her, flattening her back against the pine mast. — Gaelen Foley

I could reach out and take her hand, force the issue, but I want her to be the one to do it this time. I want her to acknowledge this thing between us out loud. I can't leave well enough alone. I want her to say the words. We're meant to be. Something. Anything. I need to hear them. To know that I'm not alone in this.
I should let it go.
I am going to let it go.
'What are you so afraid of?' I ask, not letting it go at all. — Nicola Yoon

Tomorrow sees undone, what happens not to-day; Still forward press, nor never tire! The possible, with steadfast trust, Resolve should be by the forelock grasp. Then she will ne'er let go her clasp, And labors on, because she must. — Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

So we gave up. I'd finally had enough of chasing after a ghost who did not want to be discovered. We'd failed, maybe, but some mysteries aren't meant to be solved. I still did not know her as I wanted to, but I never could. She made it impossible for me. And the accident, the suicide, would never be anything else, and I was left to ask, Did I help you to a fate you didn't want, Alaska, or did I jsut assist in your willful self-destruction? Because they are different crimes, and I didn't know wheter to feel angry at myself for letting go.
But we knew what could be found out, and in finding out, she had made us closer- the Colonel adn Takumi and me, anyway. And that was it. She didn't leave me enough to discover her, but she left me enough to rediscover the Great Perhaps. — John Green

No, I don't party; no, I don't dress in black leather and chains; that's not my style. That's how I was raised. I worry about getting good grades and I go to church and I watch sci-fi movies and I generally follow the rules. Most people would call me a geek or a nerd. You've called me that many times. But that isn't everything that defines me. I mean, look at me, sitting here in a rainstorm under a tree that's probably going to kill us when the lightning hits it, holding the hand of a pretty cool girl who really is the opposite of me, a girl that I happen to be in love with. A girl I couldn't have imagined would want to be with me. But here she is, letting me hold her hand, trying to tell me why she isn't good enough for me. That's crazy. — Cindy C. Bennett

She wrapped her legs around his hips. Wrapped her arms around his shoulders. And she kissed him. This time, the pleasure was his. A deep, wrenching pleasure that washed over him as he climaxed inside of her. The release blinded him and fucking seemed to gut him as it went on and on, hollowing out his body. When the climax ended, he didn't release her. Because he wasn't letting her go, not ever again. — Cynthia Eden

Finn said, "You feel the wind is a bully, beating you. But that is your seeing. That is your story, not the wind's. To a bird who rides it, that wind is only a kind hand. Because the bird rides the wind's power. Do you understand?" Clare, bitter, cold, and wind-battered, frowned stubbornly. "But a bird can fly. I can't fly." He turned to look at her, and his face was troubled. "If you cling to the safety of the rock, indeed you can't. To fly, you open your arms and fall, heart first, trusting the wind to bear you up. That's what the birds do. — Katherine Catmull

And do you not think less of me for making my fortune in
such a way?" After all, her own sister did.
He gave her an odd look. "There is no shame in being the
mistress of a king. It's a position of great power and influence. I think less of Louis for letting you go. — Jenna Maclaine

My chatty girl has no idea what she's gotten herself into. Because I'm not letting her go. — Kristen Callihan

Why is it so important for me to forgive that son-of-a-bitch? I'm not the one at fault here. It shouldn't be about me. He's the one that did wrong. Screw his feelings. He should feel like he's hated for what he did." Lisa added another used tissue to the growing pile on the table.
Lyn warmly smiled. "Forgiving Byron isn't for his sake, it's for yours. The block in your life's road can only be removed if you forgive him for what he did. If you don't, you'll just keep bumping into that block again and again. The life you live will be miserable. You'll never be able to break the chains of the past."
Lisa listened and let the words sink into her subconscious. She realized the only way to get to the end of the road was to take the first step. There was a block preventing her from moving forward in life. She had to find a way past it. — Dane Hatchell

She became fascinated by the statue of Edith Cavell and would stand at the base of it in the freezing cold of a December morning, looking up: -
Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness for anyone-. Sometimes those words made her cry. The tears would come uncontrollably and they would not stop. And in those moments Anna found forgiveness and it made her free. But they were only moments. Forgiveness is a hard thing to hang on to. — Miranda Emmerson

You will live to love again. You know you have lost your springtime girl, your Molly on the beach with the wind in her brown hair and red cloak. You have been gone too long from her, and too much has befallen you both. And what you loved, what both of you truly loved, was not each other. It was the time of your life. It was the spring of your years, and life running strong in you, and war on your doorstep and your strong, perfect bodies. Look back, in truth. You will find you recall fully as many quarrels and tears as you do lovemaking and kisses. Fitz. Be wise. Let her go, and keep those memories intact. Save what you can of her, and let her keep what she can of the wild and daring boy she loved. Because both he and that merry little miss are no more than memories anymore." She shook her head. "No more than memories. — Robin Hobb

The look in his eyes turned a little wild. "That's the only reason I'm letting you go. If I had any choice
"
"You do," she said "Wed can all sit here and let him die. Or you can let Eve go on her wild-ass rescue mission and get herself killed. Or you can let sweet, calm, reasonable Claire go do some talking."
He shook his head. His long, elegant hands, which looked so at home wrapped around a guitar, closed into fists. "Guess that means there's no choice."
"Not really," Claire agreed. "I was kind of lying about that choice thing. — Rachel Caine

My blood runs cold when she says his name... his last name... the name those people use for him. This isn't right. She doesn't know him. They don't know each other. They can't. "I'm not going to hurt her, Carmela, but I'm not letting her go. — J.M. Darhower

Once I had her hand, I never wanted to let go of her. — Ottilie Weber

Then he kissed her again. And kissed her and kissed her, until her heartbeat was a song and her veins pulsed with honey and fire, and his arms were around her and he was not letting go. He new what she was and he was not letting go.
She had never understood, until now, what it would be like to kiss somebody who was not trying to use or master her. Who cleanly and simply /delighted/ in her. — Rosamund Hodge

He just can't let her go
it's not the sound of her laugh
or the softness of her skin
that he misses the most
it's the way she loved him
like no one ever has
the way she held him
when he was hurting her
the way she felt his pain
like it was her own
and he just wasn't ready
to let all of that go

yet this morning
he opened his eyes
and she was gone — Shelby Leigh

It was all about release, about letting go of the unknowns.
I was having a disabled child and that was that. There were no hidden truths to discover. I would not know anything about her birth, her survivability odds, all her ailments, until her life actually unfolded. — Ariana Carruth

I commit her to memory. When I'm alone, I feel a strange yearning, the hunger of a man fasting not because he believes but because he's ashamed. Not the cleansing hunger of the devout, but the feverish hunger of the hypocrite. I let her go every evening only because there's nothing I can do to stop her. — Mohsin Hamid

There are the clothes of a fat woman I do not know.
There is my comb and brush. There is an emptiness.
I am so vulnerable suddenly.
I am a wound walking out of hospital.
I am a wound they are letting go.
I leave my health behind. I leave someone
Who would adhere to me: I undo her fingers like bandages: I go.

(Three Women) — Sylvia Plath

Not that I knew who you were until last month. But now that I've got you, I'm not letting you go."
"You're not?"
Blake stared at her in irritated confusion. What was her game? "Do you think I'm an idiot?" he spat out.
"No," she said. "I've just escaped from a den of idiots, so I'm well familiar with the breed, and you're something else entirely. I am, however, hoping you're not a terribly good shot. — Julia Quinn

Letting go of the pipe in the laundry room, he could feel in his throat so many sentences from the night's reading of emails, and he needed to shout them at her now as she poured her coffee in the kitchen, its smell always such a comfort to him, but not then; that morning it was like the sweet fragrance of lilacs just before you see the corpse upon which they lie. — Andre Dubus III

Let children alone ... the education of habit is successful in so far as it enables the mother to let her children alone, not teasing them with perpetual commands and directions - a running fire of Do and Don't ; but letting them go their own way and grow, having first secured that they will go the right way and grow to fruitful purpose. — Charlotte M. Mason

He thrust his hands into the pool, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her cheek. He grasped at her, clawing with his fingers and pulling like his life depended on it. Finally, he managed to grab her shawl. The girl flailed out with her arm and it touched his hand.
"No! I'm not letting you go!"
Now the girl's face was above the swirling darkness. She gasped for breath, half drowned. The fear on her face sent a fresh jolt of energy through Ico. 'I've got to save her! — Miyuki Miyabe

As Tom walked away, every step more awful, Lucy pursued him, arms still outstretched. 'Dadda, wait for Lulu,' she begged, wounded and confused. When she tripped and fell face down on the gravel, letting out a scream, Tom could not go on, and spun around, breaking free of the policeman's grip.
'Lulu!'
He scooped her up and kissed her scratched chin.
'Lucy, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy,' he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek.
'You're all right, little one. You'll be all right.'
Vernon Knuckey looked at the ground and cleared his throat.
Tom said, 'Sweetheart, I have to go away now. I hope - ' He stopped. He looked into her eyes and he stroked her hair, finally kissing her.
'Goodbye, littlie. — M.L. Stedman