Stop Her Quotes & Sayings
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Top Stop Her Quotes

That's when Sam grabbed my hand. "I love this song!" She led me to the dance floor. And she started dancing. And I started dancing. It was a fast song, so I wasn't very good, but she didn't seem to mind. We were just dancing, and that was enough. The song ended, and then a slow one came on. She looked at me. I looked at her. Then, she took my hands and pulled me in to dance slow. I don't know how to dance slow very well either, but I do know how to sway. Her whisper smelled like cranberry juice and vodka. "I looked for you in the parking lot today." I hoped mine still smelled like toothpaste. "I was looking for you, too." Then, we were quiet for the rest of the song. She held me a little closer. I held her a little closer. And we kept dancing. It was the one time all day that I really wanted the clock to stop. And just be there for a long time. — Stephen Chbosky

You know my mom told me to stop wearing my heart on my sleeve today and I told her sometimes I have to hang my feelings out to dry... — Poet On Watch

Galen, he recognized her immediately."
"Emma?" Galen breathes. This can't be happening.
"No. The stalker."
"Wait," Rayna says. "Her? Her who?"
"Galen," Toraf says. "It's Nalia. Yudor swears on Triton's memory it is. She's not dead. He's on his way back to stop the mating ceremony.
Nalia. It all comes together as if the pieces of the puzzle were suddenly jarred into place.
Galen tears through the living room and to the beach, Toraf and Rayna close behind him. — Anna Banks

Though she'd try to do otherwise, she had never been able to stop cluttering her present with her past. Now somebody she didn't know would pack her treasures into plastic bags and carry them away. A life, at its end, is a pile of cloth and paper, and goods that can be bagged and labelled. None of the best things - the voice and the laugh, the tilt of the head, the things seen and felt and spoken - are allowed to stay behind. — Sonya Hartnett

Jay sat down across from Chelsea and took both of her hands in his. The oversized lunchroom was buzzing with activity, and he practically had to yell to be heard.
"Chelsea, for the love of everything good and holy, please ... please stop ruining my friend."
Violet bit her lip to stop from laughing at the two of them. She knew what he was talking about before he even explained. It was the new facial hair.
Chelsea jerked her hands out of his. "Oh, relax, drama queen. He's not broken. Besides, I'm gonna fix him this weekend."
Jay seemed relieved. — Kimberly Derting

He looked at the mud. "If I pull you free, will you promise to bed me for my pains?"
"Here's what I'll promise, Logan MacKenzie. If you don't get me free, I will come back from the grave and haunt you. Relentlessly."
"For a timid English bluestocking, you can be quite fierce when you choose to be. I rather like it."
She hugged herself to keep her hands out of the creeping mud. "Logan, please. I be you, stop teasing and get me out of this. I'm cold. And I'm frightened."
"Look at me."
She looked at him.
His gaze held hers, blue and unwavering.
All teasing went out his voice. "I'm not leaving. Ten years in the British Army, and I've never left a man behind. I'm not leaving you. I'll have you out of this. Understand? — Tessa Dare

Sorscha returned to her work. She was certain he'd forgotten her name the moment he left. Dorian was heir to the mightiest empire in the world, and Sorscha was the daughter of two dead immigrants from a village in Fenharrow that had been burned to ash - a village that no one would ever remember.
But that didn't stop her from loving him, as she still did, invisible and secret, ever since she'd first laid eyes on him six years ago. — Sarah J. Maas

Farren Knight had made her promise that she would never stop believing in love and being in love. "That — Nako

Oh my God! Get out right now!"
Gio blinked, surprised at her sudden vehemence. "I was in here first."
"The upstairs is - "
"Off-limits. Yeah, I know. So were you, but that didn't stop me. In case you haven't noticed, I have serious issues with following rules. — Bethany-Kris

I know you told me you'd wait for me, but I don't want either of us to wait anymore. Especially when I knew from the first moment I saw you that you were special. I feel like I've been running my whole life, speeding from small town into a big city, jumping from one place to the next for years until they all blurred together. And right when I decided it was time to finally stop running and set down some roots, there you were. My new beginning." Her eyes filled with tears as she smiled up at him and slid her arms around his neck to pull him closer. "My love."
Jack sank down onto the couch with Mary, her curves soft beneath his muscles. "I'll always be yours, Angel. Forever. — Bella Andre

Sage!" he called. "You have got to see this."
Eddie and I reached the next green and stared in astonishment. Then I burst out laughing.
We had reached Dracula's Castle. ( ... )
I couldn't stop laughing. Adrian and Eddie looked at me as though they'd never seen me before.
"I don't think I've ever heard her laugh," Eddie told him.
"Certainly not the reaction I was expecting," mused Adrian. "I'd been counting on abject terror, judging from past Alchemist behaviour. I didn't think you liked vampires. — Richelle Mead

She's contemplative; I can feel the air around her thick with her thoughts. "No," she says at last, "I want to believe you're being sincere but I know you're not. So I say no, because even if I allow myself to fantasize a little about our lives in a cabin on the beach, I still find myself being left by you. There's almost no scenario I can think of where we live happily ever after."
"There could be," I tell her and mean it at the moment. Maybe mean it for longer. Her fingers stop moving and she sighs. I open my eyes and she's staring down at me. The lights have come on around the parking lot and one of them shines directly into her face. She angelic, a neon seraphim under the brilliant skies of the spring. I can see us on our boat, eating our hand picked clams on the fire behind our place. I can see it so vividly I'm almost sure it's happened. — Jaden Wilkes

Why do you bother, Crispin? You married a fighter, so stop trying to convince her that the sidelines suit her better. — Jeaniene Frost

Jason had to bury his face against her shoulder to keep from laughing out loud. She was just so damn cute. "Stop laughing at me! I'm a threat, damn it!"
Jason pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "No, you're my sweet little grasshopper. — R.L. Mathewson

My Beth," he whispered, his breath hot on her swollen lips. "Thank you."
"For what?" Beth couldn't stop crying, but she smiled, her face aching with it.
"Setting me free. — Jennifer Ashley

Her Shadowblade Prime was fully roused now, power rolling away from her in uncontrollable waves. Her Blades wouldn't be able to ignore it. She had to get to the vault before they came running to stop her like a horde of hysterical nannies. — Diana Pharaoh Francis

Scarlet finally built us a landing pad beside the hangar so Thorne would stop flattening her crops." She glanced toward the cockpit. "I hope he didn't miss it." They could hear Thorne's growl from the cockpit. "I didn't miss it!" The — Marissa Meyer

Blue was standing over her, shaking out his wet hair like an annoying blue dog. Beads of water clung to the muscle of his chest. He was wiry, not buff like Henley, but his body made up for size with definition.
Nothing could make up for his personality.
"Stop dripping on me," Mira snapped. — Sarah Cross

And then we'll each have to decide - each of us for ourselves - how far we're willing to go to stop her. — Josephine Angelini

No problem, dear," Phil said with a smile. It was a nice smile. A few years ago, it might have been returned, but nope, not today. Phil kept his eyes on her for maybe a second too long, though Wendy didn't think the girl noticed. Once the waitress was out of sight, Phil lifted his bottle toward Wendy. She picked up hers and clinked bottles and decided to stop this dance. "Phil, — Harlan Coben

He regarded us with dark, evaluating eyes. "This can't be good."
"I'll go first," Dabria began, sucking in a rattling breath.
"Not even close," I shot back. I faced Patch directly, cutting Dabria out of the conversation. "She kissed you! And Dante, who's been tailing you, by the way, caught it on camera. Imagine my surprise when that's what I got an eyeful of earlier tonight. Did you even think to tell me?"
"I told her I kissed you, and that you pushed me away," Dabria protested shrilly.
"What are you still doing here?" I exploded at Dabria. "This is between me and Patch. Leave already!"
"What are you doing here?" Patch echoed to Dabria, his tone sharpening.
"I - broke in," she sputtered. "I was scared. I couldn't sleep. I can't stop thinking about Hanoth and the other Nephilim."
"You have got to be kidding me," I said. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I've told you many times that the first thing I decide is the kind of story I want. ( ... ) This is not the kind of story I want. The story we bought had shine and glow - it was a happy story. This is all full of doubt and hesitation. The hero and heroine stop loving each other over trifles - then they start up again over trifles. After the first sequence you don't care if she never sees him again or he her. — F Scott Fitzgerald

Use a different approach to meet women than offering them a drink, stop insisting on dates that cost money, and show that you care for your woman by the way that you treat her, how you look at her, what you say to her, how you hold her, etc., instead of by buying her things. — W. Anton

Who is Justin Bieber, and why is his hair poisonous to small girls?" It was a long time before he could stop laughing hard enough to answer her. — Alyssa Day

It was her smile that took me captive the day we met, and never once let me go. There was an authentic quality to her smile that made people stop and look; a basic human truth that seemed to emanate from deep within her and naturally find its way upward and out. Like the magma flow from Vesuvius, there was simply no stopping Cathy's smile. It could freeze people where they stood and hold them there, sometimes forever.
That's what happened to me anyway. — Michael Spehn

After a minute or so, Lex pushed him away. "Stop."
"Why?" He looked horrified. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing-"
"Was it that thing I did with my tongue?"
"Um, no. Your tongue and its many talents are perfect. Keep up the good work." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled-up scrap of paper. — Gina Damico

Ran into him? Are you not together?"
Cassie shook her head. "No."
Gage contradicted her by saying, "We are. We're getting married."
Cassie leaned into him and hissed. "Would you stop telling people that." She turned back to Sam and gave her a smile. "We're not getting married."
Gage used Cassie's hair to tip her head back again. He leaned over, giving her another kiss before saying, "Sunshine, we are."
Cassie yanked her hair out of his fist and took a step away from him. "Honey limpkins," she said, sarcastically, "we are not. — Sarah Curtis

I wanted to stop her; in the darkness and silence we occasionally managed to throw off our despair for a while by making each other forget. — Stanislaw Lem

I never get tired of looking at her [Catherine Keener] and it always surprises me, despite how many hours of film I've shot on that face. She's fantastic. She does comedy and tragedy so equally well. She wears her feeling so on the surface for both. I try to stop myself from casting her but I just keep coming back to her. She's just so fantastic to work with. — Nicole Holofcener

I've always had this fantasy of being at the top of a Ferris wheel with a gorgeous guy and having him kiss me."
"Really? That's your fantasy?"
"One of them." She narrowed her eyes, but it didn't diminish their light.
"And I fit the bill?" he said, unable to stop himself from moving his stare to her mouth. Christ, he wasn't expecting her to say any of that, but now that she had, he had the urge to fulfill all her fantasies.
"You asked." She shrugged and started to turn away.
He caught her jaw and tilted it up to his. "Do you want me to kiss you?"
Long, dark eyelashes reached the arch of her brows. "We shouldn't"
"That's not what I asked."
She squirmed, her breath caught.
"Yes," she whispered. — Robin Bielman

Do you believe a man must be hard?" she asked. She was taking a chance. "Or strong?" By her tone, she left no doubt she saw a difference.
Again Sorilea touched the tray; the smallest of smiles might have quirked her lips for an instant. Or not. "Most men see the two as one and the same, Cadsuane Melaidhrin. Strong endures; hard shatters."
Cadsuane drew breath. A chance she would have scoured anyone else for taking. But she was not anyone else, and sometimes chances had to be taken. "The boy confuses them," she said. "He needs to be strong, and makes himself harder. Too hard, already, and he will not stop until he is stopped. He has forgotten how to laugh except in bitterness; there are no tears left in him. Unless he finds laughter and tears again, the world faces disaster. He must learn that even the Dragon Reborn is flesh. If he goes to Tarmon Gai'don as he is, even his victory may be as dark as his defeat. — Robert Jordan

DEAR MISS MANNERS:
I a tired of being treated like a child. My father says it's because I am a child
I am twelve-and-a-half years old
but it still isn't fair. If I go into a store to buy something, nobody pays any attention to me, or if they do, it's to say, "Leave that alone," "Don't touch that," although I haven't done anything. My money is as good as anybody's, but because I am younger, they feel they can be mean to me. It happens to me at home, too. My mother's friend who comes over after dinner sometimes, who doesn't have any children of her own and doesn't know what's what, likes to say to me, "Shouldn't you be in bed by now,dear?" when she doesn't even know what my bedtime is supposed to be. Is there any way I can make these people stop?
GENTLE READER:
Growing up is the best revenge. — Judith Martin

The overwhelming urge to kiss her comes over me again. It's like some kind of magnetic pull. I am able to control myself, but barely. I think this is what Paul meant that time in the car when he needed to stop making out because it was too intense. I feel like I need a time out to bury my head in a pillow and scream, but I doubt it'd do any good. — Mette Bach

I don't hate you, Jace."
"I don't hate you, either."
She looked up at him, relieved. "I'm glad to hear that - "
"I wish I could hate you," he said. His voice was light, his mouth curved in an unconcerned half smile, his eyes sick with misery. "I want to hate you. I try to hate you. It would be so much easier if I did hate you. Sometimes I think I do hate you and then I see you and I - "
Her hands had grown numb with their grip on the blanket. "And you what?"
"What do you think?" Jace shook his head. "Why should I tell you everything
about how I feel when you never tell me anything? It's like banging my head on a
wall, except at least if I were banging my head on a wall, I'd be able to make myself stop."
Clary's lips were trembling so violently that she found it hard to speak. "Do you think it's easy for me?" she demanded. — Cassandra Clare

God," he choked out. "This can't happen."
"Oh, yes it can." Breathless, she worked the buttons of his trouser falls. "It will. It must." Having freed the closures of his trousers and smallclothes, she snaked her hand through the opening and brazenly took him in hand. Of course, now that she had him in hand, she wasn't quite sure what to do with him. She tentatively skimmed one fingertip over the smooth, rounded crown of his erection. In return, he pressed a single finger into her aching core.
"Cecily." He shut his eyes and grit his teeth. "If I don't stop this now ... "
"You never will?" She pressed her lips to his earlobe. "That's my fondest hope. You say you're done with fighting, Luke? Then stop fighting this."
He sighed deep in his chest, and she felt all the tension coiled in those powerful muscles release. "Very well," he said quietly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Very well. To you, I gratefully surrender. — Tessa Dare

See beauty in those unexpected places. (she asked herself how people could let Bach be background noise.) See the opportunity in what looks like inconvenience. (she steered clear of the traffic jam and went to the bakery she's been meaning to stop at.) She embraces the undeclared possibility in what seems like just another ordinary day. (her friend is scheduled for cancer surgery and suddenly everything around her seems so very precious.) — Mary Anne Radmacher

If it makes you feel any better, he's been all sad doll lately too."
"What are you talking about, Chels?"
Chelsea stopped walking and stared at Violet.
"Jay. I'm talking about Jay, Vi. I thought you might want to know that you're not the only one who's hurting. He's been moping around school, making it hard to even look at him. He's messed up ... bad." Just like the other night in Violet's bedroom, something close to ... sympathy crossed Chelsea's face.
Violet wasn't sure how to respond.
Fortunately sympathetic Chelsea didn't stick around for long. She seemed to get a grip on herself, and like a switch had been flipped, the awkward moment was over and her friend was back, Chelsea-style: "I swear, every time I see him, I'm halfway afraid he's gonna start crying like a girl or ask to borrow a tampon or something. Seriously, Violet, it's disgusting. Really. Only you can make it stop. Please make it stop. — Kimberly Derting

She placed her palm over his wound, pressing as hard as she dared.
She would stop the blood.
She would hold him and stop his life from escaping.
She would hold life inside him and he wouldn't die — Michael Grant

On the first day of fifth grade, Liz was sitting on the swing beside Liam's at recess. Falling and flying, her hair fanned out behind her and her eyes were closed, and that was what had caught his attention, her closed eyes. She looked a little bit silly and very much alive, and Liam couldn't stop watching.
Liz, on her part, was aware that the boy beside her was watching, but she loved swinging too much to care what he thought. She loved the wind hitting her face and the brief moment of suspension at the top of the arc and the falling sensation that was magnified by the darkness of her eyelids. She imagined that she was a bird, an angel, a wayward star.
At the height of the arc, she let go. And she flew.
Liam watched with his mouth hanging wide open, expecting her to crumple on the asphalt and die tragically before his eyes.
She didn't, and when she walked away, Liam's heart followed. — Amy Zhang

Where are you going?" Millie whispered, although why she was whispering was a bit of a mystery since the sound of yelling, along with a lot of cursing, was flowing into the house. "I'm not just going to sit here while everyone else is fighting my battle." She made it all the way to the door, crawling on her stomach, no less, before she was forced to stop when she encountered a pair of shoes. They were nice shoes, a little dusty, and unfortunately, they belonged to none other than Bram. "You weren't trying to sneak out to help, were you?" he asked, squatting down next to her. "I might have been." "There's no need. Silas has been secured." Lucetta frowned. "He came down here on his own?" Holding out a hand, Bram helped her to her feet before he smiled. "Apparently, yes. I imagine those women he hired weren't too keen to travel the country with him. Aiding and abetting men on the run usually results in a stint behind bars, and they must have decided he wasn't worth that." "I — Jen Turano

I must go
the aunts will be worried. Guy, I don't know if we will meet again, but
" Her voice broke and she tried again. "Sometimes, when you're alone and you look up at
" Once more, she had to stop. Then she managed, "If I cannot be anything else ... could I be your Star Sister? Could I at least be that?"
Guy dug his nails into his palms. Everything in him rose in protest at the fey, romantic conceit. He did not want her in the heavens, linked to him by some celestial whimsy, but here and now in the flesh and after the death of the flesh, her hand in his as they rose from graves like these when the last trump sounded.
"Yes," he managed to say. "You can be my Star Sister. You can at least be that. — Eva Ibbotson

She couldn't believe what she did then. Before she could stop herself, she leaned up on tiptoes, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the mouth. Her lips brushed over his for the barest of seconds, but it was still a kiss, and when she came to her senses and dared to pull away and look at him, he had the most curious expression on his face.
Brodick knew she regretted her sponatenity, but as he stared into her brilliant green eyes, he also knew, with a certainty that shook him to the core, that his life had just been irrevocably changed by this mere slip of a woman. — Julie Garwood

The chauffeur drove them home from the hospital, maneuvering the amphibious limousine smoothly through the waist-deep canals in the Back Bay neighborhood. When he pulled to a stop and popped the roof hatch, the oppressive heat stung Cacy's tear-streaked face. The driver held out a hand to lift her onto the dock. She ignored it and scrambled out by herself, her sundress fanning out around her skinny, bruised legs. Her father, elegant and lean in his miraculously unwrinkled three-piece, climbed out after her. — Sarah Fine

In her book Anger: The Misunderstood Emotion, Carol Tavris recounts a story about a Bengali cobra that liked to bite passing villagers. One day a swami - a man who has achieved self-mastery - convinces the snake that biting is wrong. The cobra vows to stop immediately, and does. Before long, the village boys grow unafraid of the snake and start to abuse him. Battered and bloodied, the snake complains to the swami that this is what came of keeping his promise.
"I told you not to bite," said the swami, "but I did not tell you not to hiss."
"Many people, like the swami's cobra, confuse the hiss with the bite," writes Tavris. — Susan Cain

It was simple. His world was Kate. If he denied that, he might as well stop breathing right now.
"I have to go," he blurted out, standing up so suddenly that his thighs hit the edge of the table, sending walnut shell shards skittering across the tabletop.
"I thought you might," Colin murmured.
Benedict just smiled and said, "Go."
His brothers, Anthony realized, were a bit smarter than they let on.
"We'll speak to you in a week or so?" Colin asked.
Anthony had to grin. He and his brothers had met at their club every day for the past fortnight. Colin's oh-so-innocent query could only imply one thing - that it was obvious that Anthony had completely lost his heart to his wife and planned to spend at least the next seven days proving it to her. And that the family he was creating had grown as important as the one he'd been born into.
"Two weeks," Anthony replied, yanking on his coat. "Maybe three."
His brothers just grinned. — Julia Quinn

In the last week I felt her withdrawing. What was once everywhere, an ocean I imagined myself to be drowning in, was now barely deep enough to bathe in. I saw her warmth draining away and I couldn't stop it. — Olivia Sudjic

But he wasn't done with her. Before she could catch her breath, he pulled out, flipped her over, and yanked her onto all fours. Rearing up behind her, he bit her again, on the other side, and then he was in her once more, taking her from the rear, one hand running up between her slapping breasts and locking on the base of her throat, the other planted on the floor, holding them both up. She was facing the fire, and her vision swung wildly with each of his pounding thrusts - the flames jumping this way and that, her hair flying around until some lashed into her open mouth. At some point, her upper body just collapsed onto the blanket, her sex up in the air, his for the taking as he drilled her over and over again, coming so many times, he coated her with his marking scent. Elise forgot how many orgasms she had. All she cared about was that he never, ever stop. — J.R. Ward

Bree stared down at Bernardo's still form. The monitor was the only sound in the room apart from his deep breathing. Alessandro had gone down to the cafeteria with Will and Gianni to grab something to eat before they left for home. Bree lied and told him that she wanted to check in with Tina and her mother Roxanna for a few minutes before they left. Even unconscious, the son of a bitch was formidable and Bree felt nervous around him. "Why don't you do everyone a favour and just die already?" Bree said. No response. Bree sneered and shook her head, turning to leave. "You could always smother me with a pillow," a groggy voice said behind her, making her heart nearly stop. Bree whirled around wide-eyed and met Bernardo's dark gaze. She forced herself to shrug and crossed her arms. "Do you think Alessandro would forgive you for murdering his father?" Bernardo asked. They both knew the answer to that. — E. Jamie

You'll win her with ya Irish charm and green eyes, so ya will. Now drink up ya coffee and stop whining like a baby. This girl's gonna have a fantastic night tomorrow. She's gonna worship da ground ya c**k drags on. — JoAnne Kenrick

Cordelia!"
She staggered to a stop and slowly turned as her father's voice reverberated around the room.
"You just accused your brothers of trying to commit murder."
"No, Father. From this day forward, Cameron is the only brother I have. If you allow these two to remain in your home after what I have just told you, then I also have no father."
"You're as high-spirited and stubborn as your mother. I warned Leigh that he needed to keep a tight rein on you, but he wouldn't listen."
"Dallas isn't one to follow in other men's footsteps. Giving him permission to marry me was the finest gift you could have ever given me. — Lorraine Heath

As tiny silver flakes drifted down to settle on our bodies
Both the living and the dead
I thought perhaps the moon had hidden her face from us, as full of sorrow as we were. But she couldn't stop her tears from spilling out in the form of silent snow. — Andrea Cremer

She shut her eyes to block out the image. This was all kinds of madness. "Tanner."
Matilda opened her eyes at the sound of her voice. It was deep and ragged, almost a growl. Maybe a plea.
"Tanner, what?" he asked, his voice as husky as hers as he flicked his gaze to her face. "Tanner, stop? Tanner, leave?" He slid a hand low on her stomach, the muscles beneath tensing in anticipation. "Tanner touch me?"
A lazy finger stroked the skin just above the waist band of her boxers, the sensation coursing white hot need straight between her legs. — Amy Andrews

Then we'd better stop her." Coating the hammering fear with calming ice, Roarke worked precisely. "I'm not losing my wife today. I need more shagging light here. — J.D. Robb

When Nandita expressed a desire to write about me, I couldn't stop her because she's my wife, but she has forgotten who she is. — Om Puri

She came before she could stop herself, a small pop of release. Panting, she ripped the goggles off and found Peabody gaping at her.
"It wasn't a walk on a quiet beach," Eve managed.
"I could see that. What was it, exactly?"
"A couple of mostly naked guys and a big satin bed." Eve blew out a breath, set the goggles down. "Who'd have thought she relaxed with sex fantasies?"
"Ah, Lieutenant. Sir. As your aide, I believe it's my responsibility to test that unit. For evidence control."
Eve tucked her tongue in her cheek. "Peabody, I couldn't let you take that kind of risk."
"I'm a cop, sir. Risk is my life. — J.D. Robb

I stared down into her eyes, my voice barely a whisper. If I stay here any longer, I'm not going to be able to stop myself from kissing you. — Lisa Kessler

After a day spent running around outside, Clara never went home without first slipping through the orchard, where she would stop to pray to the spirits of enclosure to prepare her for her return within four walls. — Muriel Barbery

Entering yet another code, she took the passageway to Rehv's office, and when she came through his door, the three males around the desk all looked at her warily.
She took up res against the black wall across from them. "What."
Rehv leaned back in his chair, crossing his fur-clad arms over his chest. "Are you getting ready to go into your needing."
As he spoke, Trez and iAm both made the Shadow hand motion for warding off disaster.
"God, no. Why do you ask?"
"Because, no offense, you're cranky as fuck."
"I am not."
As the males looked at one another, she barked, "Stop that."
Oh, great, now they all just pointedly didn't look at each other.
-Xhex, Rehv, Trez & iAm — J.R. Ward

He knew himself well enough that once she was gone he wouldn't last regardless. His heart would simply stop beating without her. — Katie Reus

So that's what she was doing with the sports bag. Emptying the flat of pills so that I wouldn't kill myself. I want to laugh. You're so stupid, I want to say. There are kitchen knives, aren't there? Windows that open? Glasses which can be broken? Do you honestly think that by taking away all the pills you will somehow stop me from killing myself?
Then another thought occurs to me. That in her hurt, angry state, Jennah still had the presence of mind to do this. Don't kill yourself, she says to me through the empty drawer. Don't kill yourself over me. — Tabitha Suzuma

I made such a fool of myself," she lamented.
"Love does not make you a fool."
"He didn't love me back."
"That does not make you a fool, either."
"Just tell me ... " Her voice cracked. "When does it stop hurting?"
"Sometimes never. — Mitch Albom

Though you are three times more beautiful than angels,
Though you are the sister of the river willows,
I will kill you with my singing,
Without spilling your blood on the ground.
Not touching you with my hand,
Not giving you one glance, I will stop loving you,
But with your unimaginable groans
I will finally slake my thirst.
From her, who wandered the earth before me,
Crueler than ice, more fiery than flame,
From her, who still exists in the ether
From her you will set me free. — Anna Akhmatova

When she tried to put the nozzle back onto the pump, it kept falling off because her hands were shaking. She didn't feel anything at all, but she couldn't get her hands to stop shaking. By the time she looked up, Troy was already gone. He had gotten into his car (white sedan, broken taillight) and pulled away without looking at her once. She forced herself to stand very still and breathe slowly until her hands stopped shaking. Once they were steady, she put the nozzle back onto the pump, deliberately opened her car door, and drove away at a reasonable speed. The entire time she felt fine. — Joseph Fink

Your mother hollers that you're going to miss the bus. She can see it coming down the street. You don't stop and hug her and tell her you love her. You don't thank her for being a good, kind, patient mother. Of course not
you vault down down the stairs and make a run for the corner.
Only if it's the last time you'll ever see your mother, you sort of start to wish you'd stopped and did those things. Maybe even missed the bus.
But the bus was barreling down our street so I ran. — Emmy Laybourne

so who cares what she was before you met her?" "Yeah, but a virgin? I want nothing to do with that." "Well, she isn't a virgin anymore." That made Blake stop. "I guess you're right. What good would it do me to send her back? It's not like she didn't know what she was — Melody Anne

Time to stop crying, time to get her act together and do something. Time to move beyond the pity party. — Lisa McMann

Even when apologising, this guy turns on the charm. And the worst thing is that it works.
She had reached a point in her life where she no longer expected anything from men, though that didn't stop her from falling in love with them. — Guillaume Musso

I didn't get to stop missing her. Ever. It was the thing that my life had handed me, and no matter how heavy it was, I was never going to be able to set it down. But that didn't mean I wasn't going to be okay. Or even happy. I couldn't imagine it yet exactly, but maybe a day would come when the hole inside me wouldn't ache quite so badly and I could think about her, and remember, and it would be all right. That day felt light-years away, but right at this moment I was standing on a tower in the middle of Tuscany and the sunrise was so beautiful that it hurt.
And that was something. — Jenna Evans Welch

Adam stared down at me, his expression thunderous. "It was you. I know it was you."
My head was rocking side to side before I could stop it. "No." I wrenched my hand free of his. "You're wrong."
"I'm not!" Anger blazed hot behind his eyes as they burned into me. "Look at me, Kia! Look me in the eye and tell me you're not her. — Airicka Phoenix

I was blessed with another trait I inherited from my mother, her ability to forget the pain in life. I remember the thing that caused the trauma, but I don't hold onto the trauma. I never let the memory of something painful prevent me from trying something new. If you think too much about the ass kicking your mom gave you or the ass kicking that life gave you, you'll stop pushing the boundaries and breaking the rules. It's better to take it, spend some time crying, then wake up the next day and move on. You'll have a few bruises and they'll remind you of what happened and that's ok. But after a while, the bruises fade and they fade for a reason. Because now, it's time to get up to some shit again. — Trevor Noah

Sean slowly met her eyes. He knew damn well that now wasn't the time to have this conversation, not when they were parked a hundred yards from the warehouse, but he couldn't stop the confession. "I love you, you know. — Elle Kennedy

You're being too nice about all this," she said. "You're right about that," he said, surprising her. "If you'd stop being so pitiful, I could drop the whole chivalry thing and stare at your tits. — Joey W. Hill

Don't break my heart," he heard her whisper, making him stop for just a second to look her in the eyes.
"I won't. Don't break mine," he responded, making her smile as she pulled him back to her. She wanted his lips on hers again. — Kat Green

As they passed the giant saguaro cacti, Amelia knew they were getting close to home. They were magnificent, standing like humungous pitchforks in the middle of the desert. To her, it represented the American West...
Amelia noticed Sam in the distance. He seemed intrigued by the Teddy Bear Chollas. Sam was not originally from Arizona, so he seemed enchanted by the fuzzy little cactus.
As he reached toward it, Amelia yelled, "Stop! No! Don't touch that, Sam!"
But it was too late. The little razor sharp needles seemed to jump toward his finger... — Linda Weaver Clarke

(Mutt, a mentally ill brother who is setting fire to a load of expensive things from the house he grew up in and was physically abused and neglected in)
"Tuck (mutt's brother is being asked), aren't you going to stop him?"
'Why?'
'Well' - she waved her hand across the house - 'couldn't you two do something good with all this?" ...
"Yeah, but the money we earned wouldn't buy as much therapy as that fire ... — Charles Martin

Will only looked at her. There had been light in his eyes on the stairs, as he'd locked the door, when he'd kissed her
a brilliant, joyous light. And it was going now, fading like the last breath of someone dying. She thought of Nate, bleeding to death in her arms. She had been powerless then, to help him. As she was now. She felt as if she were watching the life bleed out of Will Herondale, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. — Cassandra Clare

Anyway ... she's asleep, turned away from me on her side. The usual stratagems and repositionings have failed to induce narcosis in me, so I decide to settle myself against the soft zigzag of her body. As I move and start to nestle my shin against a calf whose muscles are loosened by sleep, she sense what I'm doing, and without waking reaches up with her left hand and pulls the hair off her shoulders on the top of her head, leaving me her bare nape to nestle in. Each time she does this I feel a shudder of love at the exactness of this sleeping courtesy. My eyes prickle with tears, and I have to stop myself from waking her up to remind her of my love. At that moment, unconsciously, she's touched some secret fulcrum of my feelings for her. — Julian Barnes

If life gives you lemons, find the bastard responsible and pelt him/her with the lemons until they stop giving them to you...or eat 'em. Whichever you prefer. — Grea Alexander

Miranda!"
"What?" She batted him with her pillow.
"Hoyden! Are you drunk?"
"I don't think so. I'm not sure. They never gave us wine at Yardley. I feel happy."
"Happy?" He grabbed a corner of the pillow as she whacked him again with it. "Stop it!"
"You're too serious, Winterley!" She reached for another pillow. "I will beat you until you smile!"
He ducked out of his chair with a rakish grin as she swung at him, then tackled her flat on the soft bed, both of them laughing.
"You are ... impossible," he chided with a gentle sigh as he braced his elbows on either side of her head. He traced her cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs.
"Difficult, but not impossible." She wrapped her arms around him, relishing the weight of him atop her, the smoothness of his bare chest against her bodice. "It all depends on who's trying."
"That sounded distinctly like an invitation," he murmured. — Gaelen Foley

Then come get her furry ass. Your animal teleported directly beside Vane a minute ago. And now she won't stop snuggling up to him. I guess you missed the part where the beast started crushing on my mate at the lake? He — Setta Jay

Stop thirsting for things that are bitter,
Go crazy here, here in these arms that are still
Wrapped around the absent shape of you,
Go crazy with me, thrash about in our bed
And weep and wail and call me by her name,
At least have the courage to let our hearts break together. — Patricia Smith

I near her, cupping her face with large rough hands. I stare down into her yellow-green eyes. "You're not a pit stop. You're my finish line. There's no one after you." I kiss her powerfully, my tongue parting her lips, and she responds. But not as much as I hoped. So I break apart and add, "I want you for eternity, not for a brief moment in time. — Krista Ritchie

Oh Daddy, can't you give her something to make her stop screaming?" asked Nick.
"No. I haven't any anesthetic," his father said. "But her screams are not important. I don't hear them because they are not important."
-Indian Camp- — Ernest Hemingway,

She sniffed again. "If I become a vampire, will I stop crying every time I get pissed off? Because that would be definite mark in the plus column."
Carwyn chuckled. "I've no idea, but your tears would be kind of pink. Very ... cute."
"Great," she swiped at her cheeks that were dusted with salty frost. "So I'd look stupid and I'd stain my clothes. — Elizabeth Hunter

You've been striking at her ghost, screaming, 'If you didn't want me to turn out like him, you should have stayed to stop me!'
As his throat worked convulsively, she covered his hands with hers. 'But she can't hear you. So all you're doing is trudging a path that isn't your own, growing more weary of it by the day, wanting more from your existence but believing you're cursed to having less. That is no sort of life for anyone ... '
'How can you have such faith in me?' he asked hoarsely. 'How can you believe in me when I've given you no reason?'
'You've given me plenty of reasons, but there's only one that matters. I love you, Oliver. I can't help myself. That is my reason. — Sabrina Jeffries

He's that senior offensive lineman I told you about who's coming off the injured reserve list. Anyway, Coach is concerned that he won't be ready to play at full--"
Mimi drops her head on the bar and starts to snore out loud. Very loud. So loud that a couple of patrons stop and stare at us.
"Mimi," I say in a low voice, "what the hell?"
She pops her head back up and rubs her eyes as if she just woke up from a catnap. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Katy. I was just so bored I fell right to sleep while you were talking about sports. Again. For like the millionth time. — Barbie Bohrman

Listen, some girl will see that video and you're going to give her the courage to buy her own purple bikini. You're going to make a difference. Just watch. Girls everywhere, of all sizes, are going to want one. Clothing manufacturers across the globe will be working overtime to produce enough purple swimsuits to satisfy the demand. Girls will stop asking Do these jeans make my butt look big? They won't care if it looks big or small. They'll wear what they want to wear and fucking own it. — Jennifer Niven

I barely registered the warmth of her arms around my shoulders the press of her kiss to my neck when I stilled on top of her, or the way she whispered, "Stay on top of me like this forever."
"Don't ever stop being so fucking open," I murmured, pulling my gaze to her face. "Don't stop asking for what you want."
"I won't," she whispered. "I got you tonight, didn't I?"
And just that simply, I was claimed. — Christina Lauren

And then, being Rose Hathaway, I said something I really shouldn't have to the boy. "You should go punch him and find out."
Jonathan's mother screamed again, but he was a fast little bastard, eluding her grasp. He ran up to Dimitri before anyone could stop him - well, I could have - and pounded his tiny fist against Dimitri's knee.
Then, with the same reflexes that allowed him to dodge enemy attacks, Dimitri immediately feinted falling backward, as though Jonathan had knocked him over. Clutching his knee, Dimitri groaned as though he were in terrible pain. — Richelle Mead

The harder you try to control your girlfriend the further you'll drive her away, so stop acting like a dumbbell. — Jeanne Phillips

He was standing so close to her that he detected the faint fragrance of lemons in her hair. He sensed rather than felt the stiffness of her body. Was she remembering the blistering heat of their lovemaking? He had suffered for hours afterward, his loins aching viciously, his hands itching for the feel of her soft, silken flesh. It had not been easy to leave her that night. Yet he hadn't been able to take her innocence under false pretenses.
Someday he would be back in her arms, with no deception between them. And the next time, no power in Heaven or hell would be enough to stop him. — Lisa Kleypas

Stop trying to be something you aren't and just let her love you. — Jay Crownover

Finally I had made that necessary imaginative leap - which is a real necessity, since most of us writers can't be out there living like crazy all the time. These days, very few are the writers whose book jackets list things like bush pilot, big game hunter, or exotic dancer. No, more often we are English teachers. We have children, we have mortgages, we have bills to pay. So we have to stop writing strictly about what we know, which is what they always told us to do in creative writing classes. Instead, we have to write about what we can learn, and what we can imagine, and thus we come to experience that great pleasure Anne Tyler noted when somebody asked her why she writes, and she answered, I write because I want more than one life. — Lee Smith

Well, clearly someone you trust isn't really someone you should be trusting, she said without thinking, and regretted it when Terrible glanced at her. He did it fast, just a quick cut of his eyes in her direction and then away again, but she saw it. She felt it. It was starting already. She wished she could say she was surprised, wished she hadn't been waiting for it, expecting it the way she expected rain from black clouds overhead. Nothing in the world was permanent, especially not happiness. She'd always known that. She just wished life would stop proving her right. — Stacia Kane

Renia, tell me: does the thought of dying scare you?'
He asked softly, and with such concern in his voice, that it all welled up in her at once and caught her by surprise.
'Yes.' Her voice broke, and the tears came. She could not stop them. 'Is that what I must do, to save them? — Helen Bell

Bessie, the old gray mule, had two speeds: slow and stop. A stick of dynamite could not have put any more giddy-up in her pace ... — Carolyn Brown

I love you," he said, and though she knew it was true she kept her eyes closed and said, "Don't say that." She did not want to allow that love could be so fearful and meager and misshapen. He left, and she did not try to stop him. She was through trying to stop him. She had been trying to stop him since the day they met. — Claire Vaye Watkins

Medical research has revealed that in about one-tenth of the population, the liver processes alcohol differently, releasing a chemical messenger that creates the craving for another drink; once that second drink is taken, the desire is doubled. But the real problem of the alcoholic is actually centered in the mind, because we can't remember why it was such a bad idea to pick up that first drink. Once we start, we can't stop; and when we stop, we can't remember why we shouldn't start again. It is a form of mental illness, like a manic-depressive who, after being stabilized on medication for a while, suddenly decides she is fine and no longer needs her pills. — Kaylie Jones

Keesha looked at me for a long time. "I did leave you alone. We all did. But you didn't get better. You didn't stop. You're still doin' all your weird shit. And I think it's time to stop."
"You think it's time to stop!" I exploded, and lunged at her with my hands outstretched. I pushed her real hard. She almost fell down. "I don't care what time you think it is!" I screamed. "Do you think I want to do this! Do you think I like it?"
"You pushed me!"
"Yeah. So what?"
"You're so afraid of being interrupted that you pushed me!"
"I'm not scared of being interrupted, you jerk! I'm ... I'm scared ... I'm scared of being." I crumpled into a ball and sat down where I was standing. I sat on a crack. Unevenly.
"Who are you anymore, Tara?"
Tears spilled over my frozen lashes and disappeared across my cheekbones. I had never felt so defeated. "I don't know. — Terry Spencer Hesser

When she had the strength, she began to fold the tiny clothes and blankets and cloth diapers and put them into plain brown boxes. She didn't stop working, but the sobs came and distorted her face, bleared her eyes, made her nose run. She didn't hear Jack come to the door. When she looked up he was watching her silently, and then he turned away, uncomfortable, embarrassed by her unharnessed grief. He didn't put his hand on her shoulder. Didn't hold her. Didn't say a word. Even these many years later, she was unable to forgive him that. — Eowyn Ivey