She Is Perfect For Me Quotes & Sayings

Most people will say that this story which I told "It's not a happy"... doesn't exist, but sorry it exist. I made in normal age, like 10 or 14 years old to can be saw the drama, if it was baybe, the baybe will cry, won't it?
The age which I put the girl was the perfect, teenager in the same time, mother which is lost which will mean she has died... her father with a strange past still a mystery. — Deyth Banger

I know that Julia has been given to me for my spiritual growth, and this moment is perfect for us both. I know that I love her, and I know she's my soul mate. — Kenny Loggins

What?" he demanded.
"Did you just ... clean a dish?" Dee backed away slowly, blinking. She glanced at Daemon. "The world is going to end. And I'm still a vir - "
"No!" both the brothers yelled in unison.
Daemon looked like he was actually going to vomit. "Jesus, don't ever finish that statement. Actually, don't ever change that. Thank you."
Her mouth dropped open."You expect me to never have - "
"This isn't a conversation I want to start my morning with." Dawson grabbed his book bag off the kitchen table. "I'm so leaving for school before this gets more detailed."
"And why aren't you dressed yet?" Dee demanded, her full attention concentrated on Daemon. "You're going to be late."
"I'm always late."
"Punctuality makes perfect. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Do you ever think about him?" Elise asks. "The baby?"
I nod slowly. "I wonder how much would have been different, if he'd-"
"Don't say it." There are tears in her eyes. "Let's do it this way, Charlie, all right? Let's just pick one sentence out of all of the ones we should have said
the best, most important sentence
and let's say just that."
This is my old Elise
whimsical, loopy
the one I couldn't help but fall for. And because I know she is sinking in the quicksand of regret just like me, I nod. "Okay. But I go first." I try to remember what it was like to be loved by someone who did not know limits, and had not yet been ruined by that. "I forgive you," I whisper; a gift.
"Oh, Charlie," Elise says, and she gives me one right back. "She turned out absolutely perfect. — Jodi Picoult

This girl has me, every part of me. She owns it all, and I am willing to wait for every new touch, knowing that it will feel just the same, just as perfect as this one does.
She is what I will look forward to. — Ginger Scott

I didn't even think, just went with instinct. Opening my arms, I felt the tiny life placed there. Wrapping him close and tight to my chest, I felt my heart swelling with love. So small, so delicate. Using the tip of my finger, I traced his face, his little lips, his chin and cheeks, his eyes. "You're right, Tea, he is beautiful."

"He has your eyes," she whispered. "We still need to name him."

"Christian Simon Doyle. After your dad and your idiot friend."

Her voice sounded raw when she spoke again. "That's perfect."

"You're perfect. Thank you, Tea, thank you for my son, for our life, thank you for not giving up on me. — L.A. Fiore

AT TRIGON I LEARNT business is all about people, so to ensure I had the first look at executive talent and could hire the best, I created my own recruitment company. I needed a temporary CFO at Emerald and was told about a recruitment consultant called Carmen Bailey. Within 10 minutes of meeting me, Carmen had asked more questions about my business and what drove and motivated me than anyone I had ever met. Carmen is a perfect example of someone who puts the client first. She is never transactional and for her it wasn't about finding me a contractor but, rather, about wanting to form a long-term sustainable relationship with my business. — Diane Foreman

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

She's amazing. No ... she's perfect. Everything about her is fucking perfect," I said aloud. "I don't just love her, she owns me. Completely. I'd do anything for her. — Abbi Glines

So many people had tried for Blake, but so many had failed. All it takes is one to be the glue. It's going to be me. Livia moved quietly to straddle him. She put her hands on his scruffy cheeks. "I know all that you are. You almost don't belong here, your soul's so pure." Livia put a hand on his chest. "You're perfect to me. You're chivalrous to me. I adore your manners. You can't disappoint me. It's not possible." Livia leaned in and kissed him sweetly. See? See how much I can fix?
Blake became absorbed by her hair, grabbing handfuls of it. He pulled her to his chest, combing it out with his fingers as he hummed a soothing song in her ear. The liquid velvet of his voice lifted her into dreams. — Debra Anastasia

This is what we, in the con business, call making a spectacle of ourselves. Let's try to avoid that from now on."
"Except [ ... ] Mr. No-Sex-in-the-Bathrooms is going to describe two probably drunk people who staggered in. Plus, he thinks I'm a prostitute. We can double down on that by ... " She stopped him, glancing back into the store throught the big plate-glass windows. Ian looked, too, and sure enough, the clerk was still watching them warily.
"Perfect, she said, and the made what was, absolutely, the international two-handed gesture for sexual intercourse. She then added a couple of exaggerated hip thrusts, saying, "I want to make this absolutely clear, because this guy's kind of an idiot." She then rubbed her fingers together, after which she held out her hand, palm up, as if to say Pay me.
Ian cracked up. "That's actually kind of scary. Sex with a mime. Do I have to pay extra to make sure you don't do the trapped-in-a-box thing while we're doing it? — Suzanne Brockmann

Everyone is so cheerful and happy," I said
"This isn't Mister Rogers Neighborhood, Dex. It's Miami. Only the bad guys are happy." She looked at me without expression, a perfect cop stare. "How come you're not laughing and singing?"
"Unkind, Deb. Very unkind. I've been good for months."
She took a sip of water. "Uh-huh. And it's making you crazy. — Jeff Lindsay

So," she asks, "did we decide on a movie?"

She settles up against me, and my arm goes naturally around her. "I was thinking Braveheart."

"Ugh. What is it with that movie? Why are all men addicted to it?"

"Ah, the same reason women are obsessed with the freaking Notebook. That is what you were going to suggest, right?"

She smiles slyly, and I know I guessed right.

"The Notebook is romantic."

"It's fucking gay."

She hits me in the face with the "perfect" pillow.

"It's sweet."

"It's nauseating. I have friends who are flaming homosexuals - and that movie is too gay for them. — Emma Chase

I found the world of the Little House books to be so much less confusing, not just because it was "simpler," as plenty of people love to insist, but because it reconciled all the little contradictions of my modern girlhood. On the Banks of Plum Creek clicked with me especially, with its perfect combination of pinafores and recklessness. (I will direct your attention to the illustration on page 31 of my Plum Creek paperback, where you will note how fabulous Laura looks as she pokes the badger with a stick; her style is casual yet feminine, perfect for precarious nature adventures!) At an age when I found myself wanting both a Webelos uniform and a head of beautiful Superstar Barbie hair, On the Banks of Plum Creek was a reassuring book. Being a girl sometimes made more sense in Laura World than it did in real life. — Wendy McClure

By way of parenthesis let me say that this hand on the tomb has a lovely lesson for all those unfortunate members of Christ who have fallen into mortal sin. In them, Jesus lies dead - as dead as he was on this Sabbath of twenty centuries ago. But on them, as on this tomb, the hand of Mary, the Refuge of Sinners, rests, awaiting and praying for the Resurrection of Christ within them! May those who are in such a state fell that hand as they read this book, and bring Christ to life within them by asking Mary to help them make a perfect act of contrition, which is an act of love, this moment. She can grant such a grace; for she is Mediatrix of all grace! — M. Raymond

And the Queen was there, in front of her. She was much taller than Tiffany, but just as slim; her hair was long and black, her face pale, her lips cherry red, her dress black and white and red. And it was all, very slightly, wrong. Tiffany's Second Thoughts said: It's because she's perfect. Completely perfect. Like a doll. No one real is as perfect as that. "That's not you," said Tiffany, with absolute certainty. "That's just your dream of you. That's not you at all." The Queen's smile disappeared for a moment and came back all edgy and brittle. "Such rudeness, and you hardly know me," she said, sitting down on the leafy seat. She patted the space beside her. — Terry Pratchett

Listen to me, Dad. When Dylan's first cornea went bad, I grieved for the perfect child he should have been. I told myself that the diagnosis was wrong. I bargained with God - you know, make his eyes right and I'll do anything. When that didn't work I was absolutely furious that my child had to face this. In the end I had no choice. I had to accept it, because that was the only way I could help Dylan." She straightened. "Grieving is a process. Anger is part of it." She paused. "Right now, you're angry that Mom left you alone. But you're taking it out on Jill and me, and we both need you. You can drink all you want - — Barbara Delinsky

Thanks for going in with me," I told her.
"No problem, there is too much testosterone in the car without you. I'm outnumbered. Besides, coffee sounds perfect," Nessa, said as she got in line for our drinks.
-Cora and Nessa at Starbucks — Andrea Heltsley

She smiled as she poured tea into his cup. "I hope you find your rooms comfortable?"
"Quite." He took a too-hasty sip of tea and scalded his tongue.
"The view is to your liking?"
He had a view of a brick wall. "Indeed."
She fluttered her eyelashes at him over the rim of her teacup. "And the bed. Is it soft and ... yielding?"
He nearly choked on the bite of cake he'd just taken.
"Or do you prefer a firmer bed?" she asked sweetly. "One that refuses to yield too soon?"
"I think" - he narrowed his eyes at her - "whatever mattress I have on the bed you gave me is perfect. But tell me, my lady, what sort of mattress do you prefer? All soft goose down or one that's a bit ... harder?"
It was very fast, but he saw it: Her gaze flashed down to the juncture of his thighs and then up again. If there hadn't been anything to see there before, there certainly was now.
"Oh, I like a nice stiff mattress," she purred. "Well warmed and ready for a long ride. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Emily is sitting up in bed staring down at their daughter. Logan has his arm wrapped around them both, and he's holding them close, talking softly to Emily. She turns and kisses his cheek. He smiles at her, and there's so much love there that it makes me ache inside. They're all wrapped up in one another, so I leave the room much more quietly than I arrived. But outside the door I stop and think about the way they looked together. Their family is perfect. Is it safe for me to want that, too? Or is perfect something I'll just never have? — Tammy Falkner

Is your future faery bride too ugly for you?"
Rhys leaned back against the head rest and studied the seat
back in front of him. "That's not it."
"Too old or too young?"
"No."
I rolled my eyes, but smiled. This was why he was upset. He
hadn't landed the perfect bride-to-be. "Her pretty faery wings
aren't the right shade of sparkly lavender and pink?"
His eyes flashed with anger. "Actually, she doesn't have faery
wings."
"She doesn't?"
"No. As a matter of fact, the dragon oracle tells me the girl I'm
supposed to marry, the one destined to someday become the queen
of the faery realm, isn't a faery at all."
Okay, that was surprising. Not a faery?
"She isn't?" I said. "Then who is she?"
His expression was severe as he turned to look me right in the
eye.
"You," he said — Michelle Rowen

Well, well, nobody's perfect, but" - here Mr. Garth shook his head to help out the inadequacy of words - "what I am thinking of is - what it must be for a wife when she's never sure of her husband, when he hasn't got a principle in him to make him more afraid of doing the wrong thing by others than of getting his own toes pinched. That's the long and the short of it, Mary. Young folks may get fond of each other before they know what life is, and they may think it all holiday if they can only get together; but it soon turns into working day, my dear. However, you have more sense than most, and you haven't been kept in cotton-wool: there may be no occasion for me to say this, but a father trembles for his daughter, and you are all by yourself here. — George Eliot

With two children of my own, I know what it means to balance the demands of family and career - and let's not even talk about finding a date for myself. Rabbi Shmuley keeps telling me he'll find me the perfect woman. My response is, 'As long as she's not a journalist'. — Michael Jackson

Miss Bennet, I shall be completely blunt and honest and beg your pardon if I cross a line in some manner; however, I sense you are requesting a candid response." He paused, awaiting her favour until she nodded. "I feel drawn to you in a way I do not totally understand, yet there it is. I have never felt so inclined towards another. What this connection bodes for the future, I do not know. You are pretty, intelligent, honest, proper, and many other fine qualities I believe I could list without hesitation. I think it entirely probable you and I would be perfect for each other. It is my intention to discover if this is possible. I do not wish to trifle with your emotions, nor do I wish to have my own sensibilities manipulated; therefore, if you cannot imagine even the remotest chance of returning affection, tell me now and I shall abide by your pleasure. On the other hand, if you sense, even vaguely, a returned interest in me, then let us proceed with willing minds and hearts. — Sharon Lathan

He took a deep breath. "You make me question myself," he said. "All the time, every day. I was brought up to believe I had to be perfect. A perfect warrior, a perfect son. Even when I came to live with the Lightwoods, I thought I had to be perfect, because otherwise they would send me away. I didn't think love came with forgiveness. And then you came along, and you broke everything I believed into pieces, and I started to see everything differently. You had - so much love, and so much forgiveness, and so much faith. So I started to think that maybe I was worth that faith. That I didn't have to be perfect; I had to try, and that was good enough." He lowered his eyelids; she could see the faint pulse at his temple, feel the tension in him. "So I think you were the wrong person for the Jace that I was, but not the Jace that I am now, the Jace you helped make me. Who is, incidentally, a Jace I like much better than the old one. You've changed me for the better. — Cassandra Clare

Shea blinked back tears, found his wrist with trembling fingers, the lightest contact, a connection between them. "We make such a perfect pair, Jacques. At least one of us should be stable, don't you think?"
He brought her hand to the warmth of his mouth. "You came for me, from thousands of miles away. You came for me."
She managed a smile. "A few years late."
Something eased in the vicinity of his heart. He knew there was no escape for either of them. He might not understand fully, but he knew he had bound them irrevocably together for all time. "Is there not a saying, 'Better late than never'?" His thumb feathered over her wrist, found her pulse. — Christine Feehan

We all line up except for this guy in a wheelchair, Devyn. He smiles at me when I line up, introduces himself. He has a movie star smile, just white teeth and charisma, big eyes, dark skin. He'd be perfect looking if he didn't have such a large nose, but the truth is it looks good on him, natural and powerful. He winks at Issie, who blushes.
"You can do it, Is," he says.
She rolls her eyes, twists her lip, and says, "As long as I don't pass out."
"If you pass out, I'll put you in my lap and wheel you across the finish line," he says, and it somehow isn't sleazy because you can tell by his eyes how much he cares about Issie. I instantly like him.
She blushes worse. Her face looks like she's already sprinted a mile. — Carrie Jones

Honestly I think she's terrified of letting anyone close enough to break her heart again." I shrugged and started to slide out of the booth. "Nothing wrong with reaching for the stars." "There is when what's available is only here in the ground level. I love Rule with everything I have, but he is far from perfect. Relationships are not tailor-made and people are flawed. You have to work around that and love the other person anyway. Our flaws are what make us unique, and while Rule might not be perfect, he is absolutely perfect for me. — Jay Crownover

Never marry something until you've established the perfect pizza ratio ... The premise is simple. My husband and I knew we were made for each other because we're a 6:2 ratio, six slices for him and two for me ... Never marry a man who wants two slices one week and four the next. They're undependable and highly unpredictable and will likely dump you for some Internet honey who says she doesn't mind his back hair. — Celia Rivenbark

The strongest drive inside of a submissive, underneath all their emotional wounds, is for the Master to push aside any curtains or walls they may have erected to separate them from their true self, the naked, vulnerable soul. Because that soul wants only one thing. Do you want to know what that is?"
< ... > "I don't want to know. That's not what the training's about."
"Wrong. That's what submissive training is all about. Getting past those shields so she feels truly bound to her Master, a part of him as he's a part of her. The ultimate connection, where thought isn't necessary. They're together in the most elemental and perfect way there is. She stared at him. "Let me go, Tyler. I can't do this." "You can. You will. — Joey W. Hill

I can rest my hands on my abdomen and know that he or she is a fighter, is healthy, and can't wait for me to hold him or her in my arms. I can sit here and feel the love surging through me for this baby Colton and I made together, and know without a doubt, this perfect little being will only cement and make stronger the love we feel for one another. — K. Bromberg

I am made for autumn. Summer and I have a fickle relationship, but everything about autumn is perfect to me. Woolly jumpers, Wellington boot, scarves, thin first, then thick, socks. The low slanting light, the crisp mornings, the chill in my fingers, those last warm sunny days before the rain and the wind. Her moody hues and subdued palate punctuated every now and again by a brilliant orange, scarlet or copper goodbye. She is my true love. — Alys Fowler

I think so. There are so many tales, so strange and beautiful and perfect. They are not what are real, but better. I thought I had something that was magic once, but I lost it, and now I don't think it was at all." She touched her chest where the handkerchief had been and frowned. "I wish there was magic. If all the tales were true, then maybe they could tell me what I'm doing, and what I am to do now."
"Ah, now, don't cry over lost years and forgetfulness. The tales tell what they can. The rest is for us to learn. The question is, are we smart enough to figure for ourselves? Now, that's what I'd like to know. — Shannon Hale

It's true,' Elena said, 'that my own need for provocation is something other people seem to find very difficult to understand. Yet to me it has always made perfect sense. But I do admit that it has brought nearly all of my relationships to an end, because it is inevitable that that end is also - as you say, by the same logic - something I will feel driven to provoke. If the relationship is going to end, in other words, I want to know it and confront it as soon as possible. Sometimes,' she said, 'this process is so quick that the relationship is over almost as soon as it has begun. Very often I have felt that my relationships have had no story, and the reason is because I have jumped ahead of myself, the way I used to turn the pages of a book to find out what happens in the final chapter. I want to know everything straight away. I want to know the content without living through the time span. — Rachel Cusk

Pretend you're me, she says. I can barely see her over the frothy mound.
And it happens just like that.
A feeling of sinking, a falling deep inside.
And I'm her.
And this is my house, and Matt French is my husband, tallying columns all day, working late into the night for me, for me.
And here I am, my tight, my perfect body, my pretty, perfect face, and nothing could ever be wrong with me, or my life, not even the sorrow that is plainly
right there in the center of it. Oh, Colette, it's right there in the center of you, and some kind of despair too. Colette
that silk sucking into my mouth, the weight of it now, and I can't catch my breath, my breath. — Megan Abbott

Kiera blushes deeply as she continues tearfully, "Jeff, our life has been crazy since the moment we met. Yet, with each challenge we face, we grow stronger. You told me before we even had our first formal date that you'd like to prove to me that you'd love me until the stars fall from the sky. Although at first, I was scared to believe, you have demonstrated in big ways and small that you love me. So, for me this ring is a tangible sign of my love for you."
Gabriel walks over to Kiera and hands her a ring, which she slides on my finger as she asks, "Jeffery Charles Whitaker, will you take this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness until the stars fall from the sky?"
To my shock, it is the simple gold band that I've seen my dad wear in countless pictures before he died. My eyes tear up as I breathe, "Oh Pip, this is perfect. I wanted him to be here." In a much louder voice, I reply, "Of course I will. — Mary Crawford

I didn't notice I was crying until a stewardess came by and gave me a tissue to blow my nose in. Her arm and wrist were slender and they formed a pretty arch, like the limb of a fruit tree, as she poked the tissue into my clenched fist. She didn't look at my eyes. It was a perfect gesture, an expression of indifference and concern, which is the most a drunk can ask for. — John Straley

"Watching my back? Like you watched Chloe's with those gangbangers?"
"That was a mistake. I was running and I thought she was right behind me."
"Did you check?"
"What?"
"Did you check?" he repeated. "One glance over your shoulder to make sure she was still there?"
I didn't answer.
He shook his head. "I'm not accusing you of letting that girl grab Chloe so you could get away. I'm not accusing you of seeing her in trouble and deciding to do nothing about it. I know you didn't look back. You never thought of it."
"I was scared, okay? You want me to admit that? Fine."
"Chloe would have looked back for you."
I rolled my eyes. "Of course she would. Because Chloe is good and perfect."
"No, because she thinks of others. I would have looked back, too, if you were behind me. Even Derek would have. Why? Because we're a team now. We need to have each other's backs. No matter what. — Kelley Armstrong

We're out of time, Payton. You said it yourself: the only way we'll make it is for us to go into this together. I know we can do this. But I need you to believe it. You need to believe ... in us."
Peyton didn't say anything for a long moment, and J.D. could literally hear his heart beating. Then she finally answered.
"It would have to be called Kendall and Jameson."
It took J.D a moment to catch on. Then he grinned. "No way. Jameson and Kendall. It's alphabetical."
"You told our boss that you banged me on top of your desk."
"Kendall and Jameson sounds great — Julie James

My phone buzzes, and I shut off YouTube so I can access my messages.

Logan: Just found the perfect xmas present for you in Boston.

A photo promptly appears, summoning a loud groan from my throat. The asshole sent me a pic of a novelty My Little Pony dildo. Damn thing is bright pink, with rainbow sparkles on the handle.

Logan: And it's rechargeable! U don't have to buy batteries. THAT'S handy!

Me: Hardy-har-har. You = comedian.

Then I message Grace: Tell your BF to stop being mean to me.

She texts back a smiley face. Traitor. — Elle Kennedy

His dark eyes were hot.

"Drink the coffee," he growled.

Coffee. Right. She had to hold the cup with both hands, otherwise she'd spill the hot coffee all over herself and all over this beautiful bed. She tipped her head back against the headboard and sipped.

God, it was delicious. Sharp, yet with a smooth smoky taste. Some outrageously expensive blend, no doubt. She took another sip. Perfect.

His hand continued stroking her breast, movements lazy. "Good?" he asked.

"Wonderful."

"Give me a taste," he said suddenly, stretching over to cover her mouth with is. Oh lord, she could simply sink into his kisses. This one was long, languid, the strokes of his hand on her breast echoed by his tongue in her mouth. He lifted his head for a second, then moved in more closely, tongue deeper in her mouth. He lifted his head again and smiled down at her. "It is delicious. — Lisa Marie Rice

And then she is kissing me, right here on the sidewalk on a foggy summer night. Violet is kissing me, and everything is perfect. The kiss doesn't end. We are not two girls on a polite first date, bestowing a customary good-night peck.
No.
We are kissing like girls who have ached for each other for years who never even spoke but somehow exchanged I love yous anyway. — Nina LaCour

And I know someone who's
perfect for her. He works in my lab. He's smart. He's funny. His name is Bert."
Bert?
Is she fucking kidding me? What kind of sick son of a bitch names his kid Bert in this day and
age? That's just cruel.
"He'll show Kate a good time. I plan on setting them up this weekend."
And I plan on handcuffing myself to Kate's ankle and eating the key. Let's see what kind of good
time Bert can show Kate when she's dragging me around behind her like a Siamese twin. — Emma Chase

Prison left me with some strange little tics.' She has taken all the door off their hinges in all the apartments she has lived in since. It's not that she has anxiety attacks about small spaces, she says, it's just that she starts to sweat and go cold. 'This apartment is perfect for me,' she says, looking around the open space.
'How about elevators?' I ask, recalling the schlepp up the stairs.
'Exactly,' she replies, 'I don't like them much either.'
One day, years later, her husband Charlie was fooling around at home, playing the guitar. Miriam said something provocative and he stood up suddenly, lifting his arm to take off the guitar strap. He was probably just going to say 'That's outrageous', or tickle her or tackle her. But she was gone. She was already down in the courtyard of the building. She does not remember getting down the stairs-it was an automatic flight reaction. — Anna Funder

I met someone special today," I told her. "His name is Lawson Gale." She wagged her tail at me. "I dunno, Rosie, but if there's any such thing as perfect for me, he just might be it. — N.R. Walker

I knew it! I knew you'd hate my body!" She slammed her hands on her hips, marched over to the bed, and glared down at him. "Well, for your information, mister, all those cute little sex kittens in your past might have had perfect bodies, but they don't know a lepton from a proton,and if you think that I'm going to stand here and let you judge me by the size of my hips and because my belly's not flat, then you're in for a rude awakening." She jabbed her finger at him. "This is the way a grown woman looks, buster! This body was designed by God to be functional, not to be stared at by some hormonally imbalanced jock who can only get aroused by women who still own Barbie dolls"
"Damn. Now I've got to gag you." With one swift motion, he pulled her down on the bed, rolled on top of her, and covered her lips with his own. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

It's all a lie. I said to myself. Romance. This notion that some guy is going to swoop and fall madly in love with me and change my life and make everything perfect. It's one big, horrible lie and I bought it. Hook, line, and a ten thousand-pound sinker. Or I guess I should say it's a lie for a girl like me. For Skye, that's another story. The first time Dakota kissed me, down at the hot tub, I remember thinking, this is too good to be true. But if something feels too good to be true, maybe it's not true. Maybe the truth is that Skye deserves him. She'll always be the winner. And I, pathetically, will always be me. — Carolyn Mackler

You were right the first time, Cathy. It was a stupid, silly story.
Ridiculous! Only insane people would die for the sake of love. I'll
bet you a hundred to one a woman wrote that junky romantic trash!"
Just a minute ago I'd despised that author for bringing about such a
miserable ending, then there I went, rushing to the defense. "T. M.
Ellis could very well have been a man! Though I doubt any woman writer
in the nineteenth century had much chance of being published, unless
she used her initials, or a man's name. And why is it all men think
everything a woman writes is trivial or trashy-or just plain silly
drivel? Don't men have romantic notions? Don't men dream of finding
the perfect love? And it seems to me, that Raymond was far more
mushy-minded than Lily! — V.C. Andrews

Before she could rethink her actions, she slugged Mara as hard as she could in her perfect face. And even that was a light punishment for everything she'd done to Syn. Mara fell to the ground, sobbing. But she took no pity on her. "Syn may be too much of a gentleman to hit you, but I'm not. I'm not only ashamed to call you human, I'm completely disgusted that we share the same gender. You want to know the truth? The only filth in this room is you, and you're the one who doesn't deserve to breathe our air. Decent's got nothing to do with birthright. It's all about actions, and trust me, you're the lowest form I've ever met and I've taken in the worst scum imaginable. But I'd rather sit at the table with them than you any day." She — Sherrilyn Kenyon

She is all I could ever ask for, she is perfect, and right now, with those big, green eyes and pillowy lips and alabaster thighs, the idea of doing this for the rest of our lives doesn't seem all that daunting. She's the last reprieve. The stay of execution. She gives me hope. But times are tough for dreamers. And even if my dream is a simple one - all I want is for Her to be in love with me forever - I know it's still a long shot. Life ruins everything. — Pete Wentz

I live now for my work. I live for my work. I live only for my work. One day I will do work deserving of my talent & desire. One day. This I pledge. This I vow. I want you to love me for my work. But if you don't love me I can't continue my work. So please love me! - so I can continue my work. I am trapped here! I am trapped in this blond mannequin with the face. I can only breathe through that face! Those nostrils! That mouth! Help me to be perfect. If God was in us, we would be perfect. God is not in us, we know this for we are not perfect. I don't want money & fame. I want only to be perfect. The blond mannequin Monroe is me & is not me. She is not me. She is what I was born. Yes I want you to love her. So you will love me. Oh I want to love you! Where are you? I look, I look & there is no one there. — Joyce Carol Oates

I had a friend whose life was perfect. She always said to me, "I'm truly blessed." I thought, "Of course you're blessed; your life is perfect." Even during a difficult time, circumstances moved to take care of everything for her. When I remarked on this she repeated, "I'm truly blessed." I never put it together until I discovered The Secret; it was her words that BROUGHT her blessed and perfect life! — Rhonda Byrne

You're so critical. Oh, God, I'd do anything for you to stop blaming me for every little thing that goes wrong. Love me for who I am. Love Shelley for who she is. Stop focusing on the bad stuff because life is just too damn short. — Simone Elkeles

I'm sorry," she says.
I wheel around. "You know, you're a total know-it-all. And it's incredibly rude sometimes; I mean, you're not perfect either, and you act like it's my fault but it's not my fault for being quiet or your fault for being a know-it-all. It's not your problem or my problem; it's their problem. They're the demented ones, not us, so don't take it out on me, because the only thing that holds things together for me is having someone else on the Not Demented Team. — John Green

I am God, says Love, for Love is God and God is Love, and this Soul is God by the condition of Love. I am God by divine nature and this Soul is God by the condition of Love. Thus this precious beloved of mine is taught and guided by me, without herself, for she is transformed into me, and such a perfect one, says Love, takes my nourishment. — Marguerite Porete

I feel like I'm a stay-at-home mom, which I was for the five years before this. She's absolutely been my focus. That's the choice I made. Desperate Housewives is perfect for me. I get to go back to work and still be able to take my daughter to school and pick her up. — Teri Hatcher

Costin regained his serious tone but his eyes softened.
"I won't force you into anything Sally. I know this is all different to you. I've known all my life that I had one perfect mate out there for me. And when I look at you, I'm in awe of what I've been given." Sally blushed as he paused. "I won't leave you unprotected, and allowing other males around you is something that neither I, nor my wolf, will be able to handle. Besides," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "how could you not want to be around all this?"
Sally let out a snort. "You've been around Jen way too much."
"I don't know, she's quite educational."
"Yeah, I don't think I really want you to be educated by her. — Quinn Loftis

What Vera doesn't know is: I'd kill to be a pickle on her Big Mac - ground to relish between her perfect white teeth.
I'd kill to be a bug she squishes with her holey Army-issue combat boot.
But she's too good for me. She always was. — A.S. King

Your essays spoke of beauty, of love, of light and darkness, of joy and sorrow, and of the goodness of life. They were wonderful compositions. I have seldom read any that have touched me more.
To thank you and your teacher Mrs. Ellis, I am sending you what I think is one of the most beautiful and miraculous things in the world - an egg. I have a goose named Felicity and she lays about forty eggs every spring. It takes her almost three months to accomplish this. Each egg is a perfect thing. I am mailing you one of Felicity's eggs. The insides have been removed - blown out - so the egg should last forever. I hope you will enjoy seeing this great egg and loving it. Thank you for sending me your essays about being somebody. I was pleased that so many of you felt the beauty and goodness of the world. If we feel that when we are young, then there is great hope for us when we grow older. — E.B. White

She didn't get this pish from you, did she? Because I'm still looking for a reason to lop off one of your appendages after what you did to her, and this looks like the perfect excuse."

"For god's sake," I mutter.

Gavin backs up with his hands raised. "Don't blame me. I might have presented the idea, but she's the one who sauntered off with it."

Derrick narrows his eyes. "Aileana, is that true?"

"Yes," I snap. "Well, not the sauntering. I don't saunter."

"Does . . . this mean I get to keep my appendages?" Gavin asks.

"For now," Derrick says, holding up the needle in a clear threat. — Elizabeth May

I change the channel to another movie. An old one, but new to me. And, ironically, a thin, gorgeous blonde - Meg Ryan, maybe - rides her bike on a country road. She smiles like she has no cares in the world. Like no one ever judges her. Like her life is perfect. Wind through her hair and sunshine on her face. The only thing missing are the rainbows and butterflies and cartoon birds singing on her shoulder.

Maybe I should grab my bike and try to catch up with Mom, Mike, and the kids. They can't be going very fast. I would love to feel like that, even if it's just for a second - free and peaceful and normal.
Suddenly, there's a truck. It can't be headed toward Meg Ryan. Could it? Yes. Oh my God. No! Meg Ryan just got hit by that truck.

Figures. See what happens when you exercise? — K.A. Barson

I HAVE ANNA all to myself for seven days. Seven days of living by what I start to call the holy trinity of "S" sex, sleep, and sustenance. It's all we really need. My bed is base camp, though we've made forays onto the couch, the kitchen counter, and that one time on my weight bench, though I can't recall how we even got there. I can, however, recall with perfect clarity the way Anna came, how her inner walls clutched me as she cried out. Which makes me horny all over again as I hobble out to the kitchen for more sustenance. — Kristen Callihan

I beg your pardon for questioning your judgement," she said. "It is nothing to me, after all, if it proves faulty. I am not the one responsible for the Marquess of Atherton's heir and sole offspring. I am not the one who will be toppled from my pedestal if the world learns I have not only permitted but encouraged my nephew to associate with the most shocking persons. I am not the one who-"
"I wish you were the one who had heard of the rule Silence is Golden," he said. — Loretta Chase

I worship the ground Eva walks on. I love her smile. I love the way she gets in a snit and her lips get all pinched up. I love the way she thinks she has to cook for me. I love the fact that she lets me butter her biscuit. I love the way she curls into me at night and lets me hold her. I also love how perfect it is when I'm making love to her. How I feel complete. — Abbi Glines

I'm not saying it will be perfect, it seldom ever is, BUT what's wrong with giving love another chance? I want to make new memories with you, Chase. I want you to show up at my house for a date. A real date. I want to stress over what to wear. I want to miss you when you're not with me. I want to get all giggly whenever you call saying you need to hear my voice one last time before you can go to sleep. I want get jealous because some girl realizes what I've got and tries to convince you ... you can do better. I want to smile when you tell her that she doesn't have a chance ... . -Chasing Memories — Adriana Law

Yeah, I'm a thief."
"Honey, that's such a turn-on."
He reached for her, and she jumped away.
"Stand down," Kate said. "My hands are lethal weapons."
Nick backed her against the wall and leaned into her. "I've go a better lethal weapon than you do," he said. "Wanna see it?"
"No!"
Good lord, she could feel his lethal weapon pressing against her belly. It was big and hard. And as much as she hated to admit it, his big, hard weapon was exactly what she needed. She looked down and gasped because it was so perfect.
"Is this for me?" she asked.
"Absolutely," he said. "Take it if you want it."
"I want it," she said. "I really, really want it."
It was a Toblerone bar. Giant size. — Janet Evanovich

I'm not mad at you," she said. "Not even a little?" "No." "Do you still love me?" It didn't seem like the perfect time to mention that I had already made copies of the key for the deliverer from Pizza Hut, and the UPS person, and, also the nice guys from Greenpeace, so they could leave me articles on manatees and other animals that are going extinct when Stan is getting coffee. "I've never loved you more. — Jonathan Safran Foer