She Stole Him Quotes & Sayings

She likes me. The shock of it sent a jolt of wild joy through him that stole his breath and robbed him momentarily of his common sense. He, Blade, who stared down cutthroat thugs in the meanest streets of the city, who laughed at death and snapped his fingers in the hangman's face, found himself nervous and jumpy in the presence of a pretty girl. How utterly stupid. He felt like an ass. He didn't care. — Gaelen Foley

He turned toward the bookshelf, his back to her, saying nothing. He held out one hand and she gave him the Eliot to shelve. His voice was rough. "'Our words have wings, but fly not where we would.'"
Caroline stepped back into her heels. "I always thought she stole that line from Homer. He was all about the 'winged words' in the Odyssey, and then Eliot comes along with that line and everyone falls all over it."
Brooks seemed to be examining the shelf again. "I thought you liked George Eliot."
"I do. I think she was brilliant. But what does that line mean, anyway? Is it about influence? Writing? Distance?" She shrugged, wishing he would step away from the books and turn around.
"Maybe it means that sometimes what we say doesn't come across the way we mean it to." He finally turned, his lips tilted up a bit at the corners. "I always liked 'nothing is so good as it seems beforehand.' I think that's the perfect Eliot quote for the moment we head off to a garden party. — Mary Jane Hathaway

Maybe not quite so simple. Because - all the way driving here, driving all night, Christmas lights on the motorway and I'm not ashamed to tell you, I got choked up - because I was thinking, couldn't help it, about the Bible story - ? you know, where the steward steals the widow's mite, but then the steward flees to far country and invests the mite wisely and brings back thousandfold cash to widow he stole from? And with joy she forgave him, and they killed the fatted calf, and made merry?" "I think that's maybe not all the same story. — Donna Tartt

Andrea was never sure who leaned forward first, but she was melting toward him and, next thing she knew, felt the scalding pressure of Sean's mouth on hers. He kissed her with strength, barely masking his power, and Andrea closed her eyes and drank it in. His hand stole to the back of her neck, arching her up to savor more of her.
"Come inside with me," he whispered against her mouth.... — Jennifer Ashley

What's his story?' asked Yarvi.
'I don't know his name. Nothing, we all call him. When I was first brought to the South Wind he pulled an oar. One night, off the coast of Gettland, he tried to escape. Somehow he got free of his chain and stole a knife. He killed three guards and cut another's knee so he never walked again, and he gave our captain that scar before she and Trigg put a stop to him.'
Yarvi blinked at the shambling scrubber. 'All that with a knife?'
'And not a large one. — Joe Abercrombie

When she looked up and saw him observing her every move, she asked, "What's up?"
He smiled. "Just happy."
"How come?"
"Well, for starters ... I saw a beautiful sunset last night, stole a kiss from a pretty lady, and laid awake and listened to the ocean waves from my window." He shrugged. "You know. Just the typical stuff that makes a man happy. — Linda Weaver Clarke

Bet the first guy who made fire figured he was a god, and the other cavemen bowed down to him." "Or bashed him in the head with a rock and stole his burning stick." She — J.D. Robb

I figured. Can't expect a faery to do you a favor without naming a price. Squashing down my annoyance, I stole a glance at Ash, and saw him nod. He'd expected it, too. I sighed and turned back to the oracle. "What do you want?"
She tapped a nail against her chin, dislodging a few flakes of dead skin or dust. I wrinkled my nose and eased back a step. "Hmm, let us see. What would the girl be willing to part with. Perhaps ... your future chi - "
"No," Ash and I said in unison. She snorted. — Julie Kagawa

Because - all the way driving here, driving all night, Christmas lights on the motorway and I'm not ashamed to tell you, I got choked up - because I was thinking, couldn't help it, about the Bible story - ? you know, where the steward steals the widow's mite, but then the steward flees to far country and invests the mite wisely and brings back thousandfold cash to widow he stole from? And with joy she forgave him, and they killed the fatted calf, and made merry?" "I think that's maybe not all the same story." "Well - Bible school, Poland, it was a long time ago. — Donna Tartt

His eyes were cold steel, his mouth fixed in a hard line. "I like my face the way it is," he said icily. "You scar it with your nails as you did my chest and I swear I will give you equal scars. Think about that, Sam, before you use your claws again."
Tears sprang to her eyes. "You're cruel, Hank. You leave me nothing."
"And what did you leave me when you stole my heart?" he asked softly.
She stared back at him, searching his eyes, seeing only naked honesty. — Johanna Lindsey

I will. See you later, and thanks again." Before Carlisle had a chance to leave out of the window she leaned over and kissed him, nothing ostentatious, just sweet and sensitive.
He took no time in hesitating. He reached his arm out and pulled her body close to his. He pressed them together and let his mouth open hers, his tongue slipped inside, and he stole a few more moments of sweetness with her before slipping out of her window and walking down the street, into the distance and eventually out of sight. — Ashley Nemer

The yearning sadness of a farewell stole plaintively across her heart as she recalled those sweet sessions when she stood with him in the shadowy upper reaches of the street listening to his murmured tale of woe. She felt that happiness being furtively withdrawn, stolen by sly hands which she could not resist. No longer would he feed the deep longing in her heart; no more could she escape, through him, those bleak lonelinesses which sometimes stole upon her. — Walter Greenwood

I believe Evrard already knows where his lockbox is," Hari calmly explained. "That's not what he wants us for or we'd be in his possession right now. The note was clearly an invitation."
Morganith shook her head, and the distant glow of the streetlights seeped through the cracks of the boarded window, touching her mussed wreath of hair. "Really, Hari? Evrard's invitin' us ta tea after we stole from him? Well, hot damn. Maybe he ain't so bad after all." She set her feet on the coffee table — Ash Gray

Tilting her face back, he looked into her eyes. They were unfocused, unable to settle on his face. And the same terrifying feeling stole over him once again. An acute fear - a final, painful realization - that her world was one of utter blackness. At last he realized the magnitude
of her blindness. He couldn't imagine never seeing her again.
It was like a death, the inevitable conclusion when someone was gone. Why it should hit him now, after all these years, he could not fathom, but it was there, and finally he understood her private hell. He'd told her he would die without sight. Selfish, arrogant bastard, concerned
with his own needs, his own perversions to watch
himself pleasure her, to study her as she accepted him, to watch their bodies joined. How carelessly he had said that, not thinking of Elizabeth and what she would die for. What she wanted in this life. — Charlotte Featherstone

Alone and lost, appeared this saint,

With pretty gray eyes, darkness can't taint.

He stole her from cold, from blustering storm,

Kind and gentle, he took her from harm.

Fearful of dark, he created her light,

A jar of gold, chasing demons of night.

Telling stories of love, he brought to her life,

A moment by his side: no pain, no strife.

He gifted her poems, a gesture on whim,

With every word read, she could see only him.

She counted the days until he returned home,

The boy with his light, the girl not alone.

Invisible to all, a shade wandering in dark,

He brought back her faith, with his pure kind heart.

- Elsie — Tillie Cole

[I]t was in the pairs that the prisoners kept alive the semblance of humanity concluded Elmer Luchterhand, a sociologist at Yale who interviewed fifty-two concentration camp survivors shortly after liberation.
Pairs stole food and clothing for each other, exchanged small gifts and planned for the future. If one member of a pair fainted from hunger in front of an SS officer, the other would prop him up.
Survival ... could only be a social achievement, not an individual accident, wrote Eugene Weinstock, a Belgian resistance fighter and Hungarian-born Jew who was sent to Buchenwald in 1943.
Finally the death of one member of a pair often doomed the other. Women who knew Anne Frank in the Bergen-Belsen camp said that neither hunger nor typhus killed the young girl who would become the most famous diarist of the Nazi era. Rather, they said, she lost the will to live after the death of her sister, Margot. — Blaine Harden

Her sheath clamped his erection like a burning fist as her body demanded he follow her over the edge. Physically that was already happening. Big time. He was buried all the way in with his balls kissing her sweet ass as the biggest orgasm of his life blew his mind. He literally saw stars. But it didn't end there. Emotionally and spiritually she was sucking him into her and he was driving harder and harder to get there himself as his gaze locked with hers. She grabbed his heavy necklace and pulled his mouth to hers, demanding and claiming, giving no quarter. They rode out the pleasure, wave after wave, milking every drop of it together with moans, touches, tiny thrusts, and sealing it all with an endless kiss that left him breathless - soulless - everything-less. She stole it all. — Jennifer St. Giles

The two angels were both tall, but Aodhan was perhaps an inch taller, and now his eyes locked with Illium's for a long, quiet moment before he lowered his head slightly. Illium raised his hand, the movement slow, hesitant ... and then his fingers brushed Aodhan's cheek just below the cut that had almost sealed. The first ray of dawn kissed the tear that rolled down Illium's face, caressed the painful wonder on Aodhan's as he lifted his hand to clasp the wrist of his friend's hand.
That instant of contact, the power of it, stole her breath.
Then Illium smiled, said something that made Aodhan's lips curve-Elena thought it might've been "Welcome back, Sparkle"-and they were separating to sweep off the Tower in a symphony of wild silver blue and heartbreaking light.
"Raphael," she whispered, having felt him come up behind her. "Did you see?"
"Yes." His hand on her nape, his thumb brushing over her pulse. "Of course it would be Illium who reached him," he murmured. — Nalini Singh

You were not really in the area," she says now. "You look just like your father used to look when he lied to me." I laugh. "How's that?" "Like you've swallowed a lemon. Once, when your father was maybe five, he stole my nail polish remover. When I asked him about it, he lied. Eventually I found it in his sock drawer and told him so. He became hysterical. Turned out he read the label and thought it would make me - someone Polish - disappear. He hid it before it could do its job." Nana smiles. "I loved that boy, — Jodi Picoult

The truth is though, that Nefertiti stole his light the moment she left him holding her lifeless body on that bed, she stole his sun and his moon with her last breath, and he would never see sunlight or the sparkling stars again. They went with her. She was his sun, and his moon, and his whole world. From that night onwards, Akhenaten went completely, irrevocably blind, and his sight was extinguished into a world of never ending night. — Lanna Blyth

She huddled against his bare chest, greedily absorbing the heat and scent of him. "Oh, this is dreadful."
"Why dreadful?" he asked, smoothing and playing with her curls, his thumb venturing to her temple and grazing the fragile spot.
"Because sometimes it's better not to know what one is missing."
"Sweet," he whispered, and stole a kiss from her lips. "Sweet... let me stay with you a little longer. — Lisa Kleypas

Herlia, goddess of justice, weeping as she passes her first judgement (...) She fell in love with a mortal man, but his passion for her drove him to commit a terrible crime and so she judged him, consigning him to the depths of the earth, chained to a rock, where his flesh is eternally eaten by vermin (...) Indeed, he stole a magic sword and with it slew a god, thinking him a rival for her affections. In fact he was her brother, Ixtus, god of dreams. now, whenever we suffer nightmares it is the shade of the fallen god taking his revenge on mortal kind. — Anthony Ryan

Colton Brooks kissed in an all-consuming way that stole her breath, demanded her surrender, and blocked everything else until the only thing she saw or heard or felt or knew was his lips, his tongue, his hands, his body.
Him. — Laura Kaye

Ben Belkassem had boned up on the alpha-synths after DeVries stole this ship. Too much was classified for him to learn as much as he would have liked, but he'd learned enough to know her augmentation didn't include the normal alpha-synth com link. Without it, the AI should have been forced to communicate back by voice, not some sort of ... of telepathy!
Yet he was beyond surprise where DeVries was concerned. After all, she'd survived multiple disrupter hits with no more than a few minor burns, killed eleven men saving his own highly-trained self, taken out a few ground-to-space weapon emplacements, escaped through the heart of Wyvern's very respectable fortifications, and polished off a destroyer as an encore. As far as he was concerned, she could do anything she damned well liked. — David Weber

There are some who'd say she hadn't known him long enough to be affected. I knew better. There are a rare few in this world with the power to touch the hearts of all those they meet, but Marc was one of them. He'd been my first friend in Trollus, and not a day went by that I wasn't stricken with an anguish so intense it stole my breath. For Marc. And for everyone else who'd fallen. — Danielle L. Jensen

The prince inside her did not notice when she began to nibble at him
Bit by bit, she stole morsels of the otherworldly creature that had taken her body for its skin, who did such despicable things with it.
The creature noticed the day she took a bigger bite - big enough that it screamed in agony.
Before it could tell anyone, she leaped upon it, tearing and ripping with her shadowfire until only ashes of malice remained, until it was no more than a whisper of thought. Fire - it did not like fire of any kind. — Sarah J. Maas

Home they brought her warrior dead: She nor swooned, nor uttered cry: All her maidens, watching, said, 'She must weep or she will die.' Then they praised him, soft and low, Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe; Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maiden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stepped, Took the face-cloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee- Like summer tempest came her tears- 'Sweet my child, I live for thee.' -Alfred Lord Tennyson — Colleen Houck

He stole credit for my research. And he was after the code I'm working on now."
Cade went still, fury spiking through him. "Holly, I'm going to give you his throat for this."
"Aw, you say the sweetest things, demon." She stood on tiptoe and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
Deciding he'd kill Tim for her anyway, he relaxed and said, "I know how to play those heartstrings, yeah?"
She unbuckled Cade's belt. "I called him a fuckwit tosser."
"That's my girl." He stripped off her top, then his shirt. "Are you coming on to me to get back at him?"
"Probably." Down went his zipper.
"I'm okay with that. — Kresley Cole

She arched an eyebrow. "You already know?" "I stole his soul, lost his soul, exorcised his soul from another person's body, stuffed him in a bottle, pulled a short con, and now the Choir thinks I'm Gilles de Rais." Pixie just stared at me. She rested her palms on the tabletop. "You have got," she said, "to do a better job of keeping me in the loop." "It's been a really busy couple of days. — Craig Schaefer

Brother - "
"I thought we'd already decided we weren't that, either."
Grabbing his shoulder, I stopped him before he could reach the door. "Look, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I did this to you."
He turned to look at me, his brow raised high. "You're sorry. So, what ... we go back to being cool again?"
"I don't know, man. But we can't do this."
"And why can't we? You couldn't stand to let me have one normal day with her. Have I done anything to you since she and I broke up?" He paused, but I didn't respond. "No. I haven't. You dealt with it by being an ass, so let me deal with this my way. And my way doesn't include acting like you didn't steal my girl from me."
"I didn't steal Harper!"
He opened the door and took a step outside, his shaking hand gripping the outer knob. When he looked back at me, his eyes were flat and lifeless. "You stole my entire world. — Molly McAdams

I'm the Alpha. I get busy and in order for me to be able to court you, one of us has to be available.
She blinked up at him. "You didn't just say that to me."...
"You expect me to be available whenever."
He sat back. The intensity of his gaze had her pinned to the seat. If took all she had to keep eye contact....
"Do you remember who I am?"
"I'm pretty sure some spoiled celebrity is wondering who stole their line right now. — Chudney Thomas

That afternoon she was wearing a yellow dress the same shade as her hair, and again his throat tightened when he saw her, and again he could not speak. But when the first moment passed and words came, it was all right, and their thoughts flowed together like two effervescent brooks and coursed gaily through the arroyo of the afternoon. This time when they parted, it was she who asked, "Will you be here tomorrow?" - though only because she stole the question from his lips - and the words sang in his ears all the way back through the woods to the cabin and lulled him to sleep after an evening spent with his pipe on the porch. — Robert F. Young

Everly sighs and crosses her arms across her chest. "No, I didn't catch anything at the wedding except Finn's house key."

"Professor Camden gave you his house key? I though you said he was going to require additional convincing before, and I quote, he accepted what was best for him?"

She waves a dismissive hand. "No, I made myself a copy."

"Everly, no." I am shaking my head at her in disbelief. "No, you did not. How? Does he know?"

"Sophie, it's like you don't even know me. I borrowed his car." She stops at the look on my face. "Fine, I stole his car and ran over to Home Depot and made copies while he was busy with his best man duties. — Jana Aston

On her last visit, the girl stole one of his family photographs right out of the frame. He thinks this means she is starting to care about him, too. Now whenever he looks at the empty frame, Sawtooth is moved to tears. He has to stare straight up at the ceiling, a loophole that prevents fluid from falling out of the eyes, thus saving a man the embarrassment of crying like a damn fool infant. — Karen Russell

I love you, Eve." She looked away from the sun, the ocean, and into his eyes. And it was wonderful, and for the moment, it was simple.
"I missed you." She pressed her cheek to his and held him tightly. "I really missed you. I wore one of your shirts." She could laugh at herself now because he was here. She could smell him, touch him. "I actually went into your closet and stole one of your shirts - one of the black silk ones you have dozens of. I put it on, then snuck out of the house like a thief so Summerset wouldn't catch me."
Absurdly touched, he nuzzled her neck. "At night, I'd play your transmissions over, just so I could look at you, hear your voice."
"Really?" She giggled, a rare sound from her. "God, Roarke, we've gotten so sappy."
"We'll keep it our little secret."
"Deal." She leaned back to look at his face. — J.D. Robb

He stood there a moment longer, fantasizing once again of rescuing Lori Love. She'd turned out to be a damsel in distress after all, but not the innocent, helpless kind. No, she was a damsel of a different sort. The brave kind who fought and lied and stole and did really dirty things with the knight in shining armor. Just before she sent him on his way with a pat on the back. And that was that. — Victoria Dahl

A fire burned in her chest. A fire that both terrified her and compelled her to lean into him and take everything he would give her. She trembled with the force of these strange emotions.
"Shona." He lifted his hand to gently tilt her chin up and caress her cheek. His breath teased her lips and his nose touched hers briefly.
"Aye," she responded.
His masculine scent and that of spices from the mulled wine stole her thoughts. When his lips touched hers like a light brush of silk, she was ensnared and her breath remained trapped in her chest. Some instinct within her surged to the surface and she pressed her lips firmly against his. — Vonda Sinclair

It seemed that unbeknownst to her father, the lecherous bishop had chased Clio for the entire previous week and had foolishly cornered her on the staircase, where he stole a kiss and squeezed her small breasts. So when it came time to doctor him, she had smiled sweetly and stitched up his wound in the shape of three sixes, the sign of the devil. — Jill Barnett

Don't tell me," Jace said, "Simon's turned himself into an ocelot and you want me to do something about it before Isabelle makes him into a stole. Well, you'll have have to wait till tomorrow. I'm out of commission." He pointed at himself - he was wearing blue pajamas with a hole in the sleeve. "Look. Jammies."
"Jace," Clary said, "this is important."
"Don't tell me," he said. "You've got a drawing emergency. You need a nude model. Well, I'm not in the mood. You could always ask Hodge," he said as an afterthought. "I hear he'll do anything for a -"
"JACE!" she interrupted him, her voice rising to a scream. "JUST SHUT UP FOR A SECOND AND LISTEN, WILL YOU? — Cassandra Clare