What Are You Going To Do With Me Quotes & Sayings

But if you've always wanted to travel, then why don't you?" I very nearly shrugged before I remembered not to. "I can't." "Why not?' "Because . . . because . . . it's just not done. How would I do it? What would I say?" He grinned. "Bon voyage - I'm off to the Continent. That seemed to work for me." "But you're a man." "Yes. Yes, I am." "You can do whatever you want. But I'm a girl - " "Yes, indeed you are!" I frowned. He was teasing me. "Forgive me. As you were saying?" "I cannot just go wherever I want whenever I please. I have to be escorted. And who would escort me abroad?" "I would." I laughed. "I would!" His protest was tinged by his own laughter. "You can't." "And why not?" "Because we aren't - " I was going to say married, but that would have been presumptuous. "Because you can't. It wouldn't be proper." "Far be it from me to know polite from improper, but I believe you just danced your first waltz properly. With your eyes open. — Siri Mitchell

Stories are a way to connect with others and realize we're not alone in our crazy, mixed-up thoughts. I think what you do is important. It keeps introverted people like me from going insane. — Linda Kage

Simon stepped between them. "I'm not going to let you fight with each other."
"And what are you going to do about it if ... Oh." Jace's gaze trailed up to Simon's forehead, and he grinned reluctantly. " So basically you're threatening to turn me into something you can sprinkle on popcorn if I don't do what you say? — Cassandra Clare

The few times he made the mistake of relaxing in a woman's bed after a quick lay proved to be serious mistakes. They wanted to coddle and always asked the questions that made him cringe, 'What are you thinking?', 'Do you love me?', 'Where do you see this going?', 'Are you as happy as I am?', 'Why do you keep calling me by my sister's name?', or his personal favorite 'I wonder what our babies will look like.' No, sex was best kept at a woman's house, hotel room or better yet in the backseat of a car. Thank god his neighbor seemed to share the same attitude. He hated the idea of waking up to the sounds of another man grunting and moaning. With his luck the sounds would filter into his dream and he would end up having a gay dream. — R.L. Mathewson

What the hell are you tryng to do?"
She gave him an innocent stare. "Why, have a conversation. I suppose you're out of practice."
He glared,narrow-eyed, then turned away. "I'm going for a walk," he muttered.
"Lovely." Gennie slipped her arm through his. "I'll go with you."
"I didn't ask you," Grant said flatly, stopping again.
"Oh." Gennie batted her eyes. "You're trying to charm me by being rude again. It's so difficult to resist. — Nora Roberts

A lot of people feel like they're victims in life, and they'll often point to past events, perhaps growing up with an abusive parent or in a dysfunctional family. Most psychologists believe that about 85 percent of families are dysfunctional, so all of a sudden you're not so unique. My parents were alcoholics. My dad abused me. My mother divorced him when I was six ... I mean, that's almost everybody's story in some form or not. The real question is, what are you going to do now? What do you choose now? Because you can either keep focusing on that, or you can focus on what you want. And when people start focusing on what they want, what they don't want falls away, and what they want expands, and the other part disappears. (Jack Canfield) — Rhonda Byrne

He's gawking at me when I open the door.
"Damn girl," he says, looking me over, "what the hell are you trying to do to me?"
I look down at myself, still trying to wake up the rest of the way and realize I'm in those tiny cotton white shorts and varsity tee with no bra on underneath. Oh my God, my nipples are like beacons shining through my shirt! I cross my arms over my chest and try not to look at him i the eyes when he helps himself the rest of the way inside.
"I was going to tell you to get dressed," he goes on, grinning as he walks into the room carrying his bags and the guitar, "but really, you can go just like that if you want."
I shake my head, hiding the smile creeping up on my face. — J.A. Redmerski

Acting as a profession came to me by chance: in 1946, after the war, I was having lunch with my cousin, who was the Italian ambassador, and he asked, 'What are you going to do now you're out of uniform?' I said, 'I'm pretty inventive, and I can imitate people,' and he said, 'Have you thought about being an actor?' — Christopher Lee

The vast majority of you are going to close this tab without, even for a single moment, entertaining the thought of writing something.

Step outside your comfort zone and try something new. Learning the fine rationalist art of CoZE (comfort zone expansion) is a really important life skill, and putting your writing online is a low-risk way to do that. Don't try to cop out with "I don't have any stories." Baloney. Everyone has stories; write up a memory that's important to you. And don't even try to tell me, "Oh, but I don't know how to write!" Neither did I when I started; I learned by doing. So please, set the excuses aside, put something up on the web, and share it with the rest of us. When you do, drop me a PM; I'll leave you your first review, but you have to publish something first.

Well? What are you waiting for? Seriously. Go write one sentence of a new story, write now. — David K. Storrs

William slapped him on the shoulder, sending Sex into rapturous convulsions. "Before we do this, I've got one question for you. And you can't lie. This is too important."
A bit sick to his stomach at what such a debaucher could want to know, Paris cast his attention to the black-haired, blue-eyed he-devil. "Ask."
"Are you going to suggest I kiss you for good luck or strength or whatever it is your sex demon needs?"
That earned the warrior a two-fingered salute.
"So that's a no?" William asked.
Paris worked his jaw. "Here, let me help you off the cliff to the drawbridge." With no more warning, he shoved William over the ledge. He thought he heard a fading, " So not cool," from the bastard as he fell ... fell ...
Splat. — Gena Showalter

This is going to sound slightly stalkerish, but I can't help but notice you've decapitated Jack Skellington and put him on your ears." "What can I say?" Yvette shrugs. "I like bones." "So do I, actually, because our skeletons support a massive interconnected muscular structure and without them we would be blobs of flesh. Also we wouldn't have middle fingers to flip people off with. Are you in Room 14B?" Yvette's eyes widen. "Yeah, so you're -" "MY ROOMMATE!" I screech. A passing guy winces and flips me off. I loudly inform him he has his skeleton to thank for that. — Sara Wolf

I have to go in with Raquel and fix this curse. Why don't you come in and . . . umm, lie down on the couch or something."
Reth gave me a humorless smile. "In all our time with each other, have I ever struck you as the type to nap on a couch?"
I snickered. "Not really. But it would be entertaining for me, at least. I'll bet you snore, even."
He looked indignant. "What makes you think I even sleep?"
"Do you?"
"Not in the same way you do. Go and waste your time trying to 'fix' Lend. I will try my best not to die waiting."
I took a step away, then turned back. "Wait, seriously? Are you going to die?"
He smiled, this time a genuine one. "I knew you cared. Not at the moment, but I will need you for something very soon. — Kiersten White

What NYU tried to teach had no relation whatsoever with the reality of what making a film is like. You cannot teach someone aesthetics. What you can do is say, "If you were in this situation and this is the kind of story you wanted to tell, here are a couple of ways you could try to make things work." But they didn't really do that. I did my three years there, and I have said at times that besides my childhood, going to NYU was the single most destructive experience of my life. It took me eight years to recover.
~Tom Dicillo — Nicholas Jarecki

Been lickin' peanut-butter spoons? Maybe I should call you butterfingers. It has a better ring than Hella Shella. - Tran
'Answer my question, Tran. Right now. Or I show you just what these fingers'
I wiggled my fingers under his nose
'can really do.' I took a step closer, erasing the distance between us. 'And let me tell you, emo boy, you are not going to like it. Let's just say, that peanut butter I ate, freshly made.' I licked my lips with care. 'I'm actually quite skilled when it comes to crushing nuts.' - Shella — Krista Alasti

That explains what I'm doing here." He put his chin down on the edge of the gurney, watching me like a big friendly dog. "What are you doing here?"
He was so dreamily handsome, looking at me with concern in his eyes, and his tone was so gentle, that I almost answered him.
"You followed me," he said.
I shifted on the gurney, trying in vain to find a more comfortable position. My hip sure did hurt.
"You wanted to know where I was going so late at night," he said. "I've seen you watching me through your window."
Note to self: when boys look back at you watching them in the darkness outside your well-lit window, but their expressions do not change, you relax, assuming they can't really see you watching them, when they can totally see you.
There was no way around it now. — Jennifer Echols

Mostly I live in this moment, right now, and I'm grateful for it. I know that most of this life lies behind me, but what I Live for is today, and for the tomorrows that remain. My eyes are bombarded by the sights of this beautiful world. Every breath has the rich fragrance of trees and flowers. I'm privileged to be alive to share these wonderful feelings with you. I toast our fallen comrades, all of whom live on in our hearts.

So far, so good. Do I sound like I think I'm going to live forever? you bet your fucking ass. I know better, at least in my mind. But this heart still beats a little faster for all the beauty in the world. I can honestly say that I've lived my time here fully. Perhaps the life story I have recounted in these pages will help you to avoid some of the pitfalls that tripped me up along the way.I hope so. And I hope that you'll live the rest of your time to the fullest. I don't see any other good way to go. — Tony Curtis

If anything happened to you, I don't know what I would do." I lifted my head to eye him warily. "You're not going to do something weird with my dryer lint, are you?" "I never know what is going to come out of your mouth," he said, staring at me. "I enjoy that, in a morbid way. — Molly Harper

With a sigh, he pulled out his link.
"What are you doing?"
"Ordering pizza
for your division
and more for the E and B team. And don't give me any bloody grief about it. I'm a bit on edge here as I couldn't get through the bloody, buggering door for more than five minutes
and that was after Feeney started on it before me. And my wife about to be blown to bits on the other side."
She knew the fear, the soul-emptying terror of it. She'd felt it for him a time or two. All she could do now was try to ease it.
"I wasn't going to let that happen."
"Weren't you now?"
"Nope. I wasn't going to let the last words I said to you be 'Later, honey.'"
Since it made him laugh, she sat back, closed her eyes for one blessed moment while she heard him ordering twenty-five (good God!) large pies with a variety of toppings. — J.D. Robb

Do you miss being friends with Santangelo?" I ask her after the lights are out and we're almost asleep.
"What makes you think were friends?"
"Everything."
I hear her yawn.
"Being enemies with him is better." she tells me. There's a long pause and I think she's going to say something more but she doesn't and it's just silence for a long while. — Melina Marchetta

Hello, Miya."
His smooth tone speaking my name made a warm sensation tingle across the surface of my body.
A hundred questions ran through my head, wanting to be spoken. How do they know who I am? Who are they? What do they want with me? I was a single, working-class associate professor with department store clothes. Surely they didn't think they would get much of a ransom for me. The expression on the man's face held me, and my demanding thoughts.
"We aren't going to harm you."
I smirked at him and glanced at my right arm, feeling its ache. My elbow might be badly bruised, but it wasn't broken. His eyes followed mine and he sighed.
"That was an accident." His tan, sinewy hand touched my wrist then delicately ran down my bones to my elbow. I flinched, but didn't feel any pain. — Derendrea

I have a theory about men like you, Jack."
That seemed to lighten his mood. He slid me an amused glance. "What is your theory, Ella?"
"It's about why you haven't committed to anyone yet. It's really a matter of efficient market dynamics. Most of the women you date are basically the same. You show them a good time, and then it's on to the next, leaving them to wonder why it didn't last. They don't realize that no one ever outperforms the market by offering the same thing everyone else is offering, no matter how well packaged. So the only thing that's going to change your situation is when something random and unexpected occurs. Something you haven't seen on the market before. Which is why you're going to end up with a woman who's completely different from what you and everyone else expects you to go for."
I saw him smile.
"What do you think?"
"I think you could talk the ears off a chicken," he said.
-Ella & Jack — Lisa Kleypas

People entering the bars on First Avenue gave up their bodies. Then only the demons inhabiting us could be seen. Souls who had wronged each other were brought together here. The rapist met his victim, the jilted child discovered its mother. But nothing could be healed, the mirror was a knife dividing everything from itself, tears of false fellowship dripped on the bar. And what are you going to do to me now? With what, exactly, would you expect to frighten me? — Denis Johnson

I remain your pledged man," Tark avowed, touching a fist to his chest. "What are your orders?"
Jason turned to the stocky musician. "Do your best to help Galloran win this war."
"I swear it."
"And keep an eye on Rachel. See if you can get her to stop telling me she's going to see me again. I think she's jinxing us."
Rachel punched Jason's arm.
Tark eyed Rachel uncertainly. She saw a hint of disapproval in his gaze, along with a little wariness.
Jason smiled. "That's assault. Tark, take her out. — Brandon Mull

Stand up comedy is this thing you get to do, so you have to treat it with respect. You can't just be like, 'Alright, I got my hour down, people are coming to see me now. Now, I'm going to lean on the mike stand.' No, you gotta work even harder now. You got to top what you already did. Because they'll find someone else. — Bill Burr

Only Merlin and her guards ever woke her in the mornings, and her guards only shouted to her through the doors.
Britt picked her head off her pillow. "Merlin?"
Merlin, once again standing out in the hallway, hissed through the door."You're still in bed."
"Yeah, so?"
"It is indecent for you to allow a man into your bedchambers when you are still in bed!"
Britt rolled her eyes and sat up. "What did you want?"
"Get up. We're going to mass."
"No, we're not. You might be, but I'm not."
"Oh yes you are, you little heathen."
"It's boring. The pastor only talks in Greek or Hebrew or whatever that language is."
"He's the archbishop, and he conducts the service in Latin."
"Mmm, yeah that," Britt said, falling back into her bed with a thump.
"Do not lie back down you unschooled foundling!"
"Too late," Britt said. "If you want me to go to mass you're going to have to drag me out of here. How indecent would that be? — K.M. Shea

Another great pioneer in this experiment in the early twentieth century was a remarkable man named Frank Laubach. This is what he wrote: "For do you not see that God is trying experiments with human lives? That is why there are so many of them. . . . He has [seven billion] experiments going around the world at this moment. And his question is, 'How far will this man and that woman allow me to carry this hour? — John Ortberg

So here we go, you and me. Because what else are we going to do? Say no? Say no to an opportunity that may be slightly out of our comfort zone? Quiet our voice because we are worried it is not perfect? I believe great people do things before they are ready. This is America and I am allowed to have healthy self-esteem. This book comes straight from my feisty and freckled fingers. Know it was a battle. Blood was shed. A war raged between my jokey and protective brain and my squishy and tender heart. I have realized that mystery is what keeps people away, and I've grown tired of smoke and mirrors. I yearn for the clean, well-lighted place. So let's peek behind the curtain and hail the others like us. The open-faced sandwiches who take risks and live big and smile with all of their teeth. These are the people I want to be around. This is the honest way I want to live and love and write. — Amy Poehler

He sipped again, more deeply. "Is this an interrogation, Lieutenant?" It was the smile in his voice that rubbed her wrong.
"It can be," she said shortly.
"As you like." He rose, set his glass aside, and began to unbutton his shirt.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting into the swim, so to speak." He tossed the shirt aside, unhooked his trousers.
"If I'm going to be questioned by a naked cop, in my own tub, the least I can do is join her."
"Damn it, Roarke, this is murder." He winced as the hot water all but scalded him.
"You're telling me." He faced her across the sea of froth.
"What is it in me that is so perverse it thrives on ruffling you? And," he continued before she could give him her short, pithy opinion, "what is it about you that pulls at me, even when you're sitting there with an invisible badge pinned to your lovely breast? — J.D. Robb

He isn't like most guys, you know?'
I know.'
No, but do you really know? I mean here's the deal, what do most guys want from a woman? I'll tell you what we want. We want a warm body to sleep next to, preferably one with a nice pair of tits, maybe someone who'll cook for us and fuck us on a regular basis. Pretty simple, huh? Now, what we don't want is someone who's going to come in and disrupt our lives and steal our souls. That's what we fear most. We call it our freedom, but it's our souls we're talking about. You following me?'
I nodded.
Okay, good. Now forget it. Forget all that,' Pete said. 'Because Jacob's not like that. He's never been like that. He's a damn fool and he wants the exact opposite of all that. He wants someone to obsess over, someone to possess his soul, and those are his corny words, by the way, not mine. It's what he lives for. It's what he thinks life's all about. Do you get what I'm saying?'
I nodded again. — Tiffanie DeBartolo

Robin: When you do marry, who will you marry?
Maria: I have not quite decided yet, but I think I shall marry a boy I knew in London.
Robin(yells): What? Marry some mincing nincompoop of a Londoner with silk stockings and a pomade in his hair and face like a Cheshire cheese? You dare do such a thing! You - Maria - if you marry a London man I'll wring his neck! ( ... ) I'll not only wring his neck, I'll wring everybody's necks, and I'll go right away out of the valley, over the hills to the town where my father came from, and I won't ever come back here again. So there!
( ... )
Maria: Why don't you want me to marry that London boy?
Robin(shouting): Because you are going to marry me. Do you hear, Maria? You are going to marry me. — Elizabeth Goudge

You're beautiful, and I bet you..." He thought for a long moment and then he said, "I bet you another kiss on your eighteenth birthday, you are going to be beating guys off with a stick."
"Another kiss?" I laughed and heard it echo back at me through the woods. "I haven't been kissed yet. How can there be-"
Then it happened. I felt his tongue against my lips, and I panicked. What do I do? What do I do? I pulled away and exclaimed, "I don't know how!"
He chuckled and brought my head back to his. Then he showed me how. — J.B. Hartnett

When the Irish nun said to me, "Speak your name loud and clear so that all the boys and girls can hear you," she was asking me to use language publicly, with strangers. That's the appropriate instruction for a teacher to give. If she were to say to me, "We are going to speak now in Spanish, just like you do at home. You can whisper anything you want to me, and I am going to call you by a nickname, just like your mother does," that would be inappropriate. Intimacy is not what classrooms are about. — Richard Rodriguez

Where are you going?"
"To get my Bible."
"Right now? You can't get your Bible out right now! I'm, I'm, we're just about to ... "
She'd never be able to go through with this if he got out his Bible. She wiped all humor from her face.
"I believe you. Proverbs 5:18. Rejoice, relish, and romp with your husband."
He chuckled. "I'm serious, Connie, and I won't have you feeling ashamed or unclean over anything we do in that bed, tonight or any other night."
"I won't. I feel unashamed and very clean. I promise. But please don't get out that Bible."
"What? Think you that God can't see us right now?"
Groaning, she slid off his lap and covered her face with her hands. He sunk to his knees in front of her, drawing her hands down.
"I love you. You love me. We are man and wife. God is watching, Connie, and He is very, very pleased. — Deeanne Gist

We what? Walk around the city seven times in seven days and blow our trumpets? Forgive me, my Commander, but what is that going to do, kill them with laughter?" The other commanders snickered. Joshua chose not to be angry. He thought it was rather silly himself. "Our god has quite a sense of humor, does he not? But nevertheless, he did tell me that is what we should do. So, unless you have a better idea than Yahweh, Salmon, I suggest we obey him and see his salvation." Salmon was duly chastised. "Forgive my offense, commander." Joshua said with a smile, "You are forgiven, Salmon. You are too good of a spy." Caleb was impressed with Joshua's temperament. His sense of holiness would normally be offended at remarks like that. Perhaps he was beginning to appreciate Yahweh's sense of humor after all. Joshua ended his remarks, "And remember, Commanders, avoid the home with the scarlet rope. Caleb and Salmon, you will be responsible for Rahab's deliverance. — Brian Godawa

Joe, you did fine," Mercer says. "You were great. But there is no question that we are in the shit. We are in the savage jungle. For some reason, which I do not yet apprehend, there are titans stirring in the deeps and shadows on the stairwell. As my youngest cousin Lawrence would say, we are up to our necks in podu. This, incidentally, is Reggie, who is one of my occasional thugs," indicating the gnarled youth on his left. "Now retiring to become a vet, would you believe, but for the next ten minutes you can trust him with your life, only don't, trust me instead. Anyway ... good evening, and what the fuck is going on, and try the lamb, it's excellent. — Nick Harkaway

How people themselves perceive what they are doing is not a question that interests me. I mean, there are very few people who are going to look into the mirror and say, 'That person I see is a savage monster'; instead, they make up some construction that justifies what they do. If you ask the CEO of some major corporation what he does he will say, in all honesty, that he is slaving 20 hours a day to provide his customers with the best goods or services he can and creating the best possible working conditions for his employees. But then you take a look at what the corporation does, the effect of its legal structure, the vast inequalities in pay and conditions, and you see the reality is something far different. — Noam Chomsky

Imagine, what could you really accomplish if your speech was filled with more statements that began with "I can" than with "I can't"? How far could your dreams soar if you said, "Why not me?" instead of "Why me?" more often? And just like when you are learning a new language, you're still going to slip up and say, "I could have done . . ." instead of "I will do . . ." Surround yourself with native successful speakers, and before you know it, you'll begin to speak the life of your dreams into existence. — Steve Harvey

Naz," I whisper. "What's going on?" "What's going on is your mother isn't happy to see you near me." "Why?" I ask, my voice trembling. "Who are you?" "You know who I am," he says. "The question you should be asking is who are they." "Mom," I call out. "Mom, what's happening? How do you know Naz?" She doesn't look at me, but I know she hears my words. Her alarm grows when I call him Naz. She pleads with him more. "Please, she's my daughter... my little girl. — J.M. Darhower

What are you going to do for school?"
"Go to FSU with Tash."
"What if there was no Tash? What would you do then?"
"I don't know," she murmurs. "Maybe go wherever Gabe goes. Or come to New York with you."
It fills me with warmth, running liquid through me, but it won't thaw my mind. "Why does it have to be, like, based off someone else? Why can't you just do what you want?"
"What I want is to be around people I care about."
"Oh." I blink at the ceiling once, twice, eyelids getting heavy, eyes getting fuzzy. It makes sense when she says it like that. — Emma Mills

'He's black, you see that! I thought he would be all along.' Harelip's voice trembled with excitement. 'He's a real black man, you see!'
'What are they going to do with him, shoot him?'
'Shoot him!' Harelip shouted, gasping with surprise. 'Shoot a real live black man!'
Because he's the enemy,' I asserted without confidence. 'Enemy! You call him an enemy!' Harelip seized my shirt and railed at me hoarsely, spraying my face with saliva through his lip.
'He's a black man, he's no enemy! — Kenzaburo Oe

What in the world are we going to do with you?' Mrs. Ritter asked.
I could think of a few things.
Take it easy on me.
Teach me different.
Care about me just a little.
So many times that year I wanted to shout,'It's not like I'm waking up in the morning and trying to mess up. I just don't get it! — Joan Bauer

That year I was going to take you up in the Rockies. No more of that. We'll have to choose Old Flat Top because I don't want Violet getting all tired out with a long climb. And I don't want me getting all tired out either. The rest of you are tough enough." Grandfather looked up to see that every Alden was looking at him. The four shining faces answered him. There were four nods. "You do have the strangest ideas, Benny," said Jessie. "What put that into your head?" "Well," said Benny, "I've been reading about that place in school." "About Flat Top?" asked Violet. "Oh, you have, have you?" said Henry. "You chose Flat Top yourself?" "Right," said Benny. "I don't want to climb too much myself. I get lame." Mr. Alden said, "Well, my answer is yes. Old Flat Top is easy enough for all of us, and yet it is interesting all the way up. And we'll all be able to get a good rest on the smooth top." "Just like airplanes landing on an airplane carrier," said Benny. — Gertrude Chandler Warner

Exactly what do you think I might do to you in bed?" He scratched his chest consideringly, and rubbed absently at the tiny knot of scar tissue where he'd cut Jack Randall's brand from his flesh. "Well, so far, ye've clawed me, bitten me, stabbed me - more than once - and - " "I have not stabbed you!" "Ye did, too," he informed me. "Ye stabbed me in the backside wi' your nasty wee needle spikes - fifteen times! I counted - and then a dozen times or more in the leg with a rattlesnake's fang." "I was saving your bloody life!" "I didna say otherwise, did I? Ye're no going to deny ye enjoyed it, though, are ye? — Anonymous

With that said, don't be trifling about being a feminist. It really infuriates me when high-profile people in your position self-identity as feminists just because it's trendy at the moment and then don't do any of the, you know, actual work of trying to make things equal for everybody. You're going to have to roll up your sleeves and get dirty in order to create a society that takes women as seriously as the men. The type that encourages us to not define ourselves by who we go to bed with at night, but by who and what we see reflected back at us in the mirror in the morning. The type that recognizes that women are not a monolith and that they have wildly different experiences informed by their race and/or sexuality. Be that beacon of light that we can look toward. Be the feminist who will help normalize the idea of Feminism for society. Be the feminist everyone needs. No presh. 3C. — Phoebe Robinson

Perrin told me about his people before I ever came here," she said. He was not a man to brag, but things had a way of coming out. "When hail flattens your crops, when the winter kills half your sheep, you buckle down and keep going. When Trollocs devastated the Two Rivers, you fought back, and when you were done with them, you set about rebuilding without missing a step." She would not have believed that without seeing for herself, not of southerners. These people would have done very well in Saldaea, where Trolloc raids were a matter of course, in the northern parts at least. "I cannot tell you the weather will be what it should tomorrow. I can tell you that Perrin and I will do what needs to be done, whatever can be done. And I don't need to tell you that you will take what each day brings, whatever it is, and be ready to face the next. That is the kind of people the Two Rivers breeds. That is who you are. — Robert Jordan

This needs fixing, and I am the one who is going to fix it. I'm okay with that."
Arianna nodded. "But how? What are you going to do?"
"I have some ideas. But first I need something in my stomach before I fall over. So let's go eat and plot and then save the world."
David sighed, looking thoughtful.
"What's up, Dad?" Lend asked.
"I'm trying to figure out if there's any way I can lock you two in your rooms. I don't think a simple grounding will do it."
Raquel laughed. "Good luck trying to force Evie to do anything else once she has made up her mind. She is the definition of a stubborn, headstrong teenager."
"And you love me for it."
"I do." She hugged me, the spontaneity of the gesture surprising me. Even Lend's expression softened slightly toward her. — Kiersten White

The sweet roll smelled divine, and I thanked him, prancing my way back to Mal and feeling quite pleased with myself. He grabbed my arm and pulled me down a muddy walkway between two houses. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Nobody saw me. He just thought I was another peasant girl."
"We can't take risks like that."
"So you don't want a bite?"
He hesitated. "I didn't say that."
"I was going to give you a bite, but since you don't want one, I'll just have to eat the whole thing myself."
Mal grabbed for the roll, but I danced out of reach, dodging left and right, away from his hands. I could see his surprise, and I loved it. I wasn't the same clumsy girl he remembered.
"You are a brat," he growled and took another swipe.
"Ah, but I'm a brat with a sweet roll. — Leigh Bardugo

What - what are you going to do to me?" I hated how weak, how afraid I sounded. "Everything." His voice was thick with promise. "But nothing you won't enjoy. — Jasinda Wilder

What's the first sign of a lurking, hidden expectation you didn't know you had? Pain! People don't do what we want, things don't happen quickly enough, the weather doesn't cooperate, our bodies don't cooperate. Why are these moments so painful? Because our minds are focused on a static, unchanging, me-centric picture while the dynamic unfolding of a broader life continues around us. There is nothing wrong with expectations per se, as it's appropriate to set goals and work, properly, towards their fruition. But the instant we feel pain over life not going "my way," our expectations have clearly taken an improper turn. Any moment you feel resistance or pain, look for
and then let go of
the hidden expectation. Practice giving yourself over to what "you" don't want. Let the line at the store be long. Let the other person interrupt you. Let the nervousness make you shake. Be where your body is, not where your mind is trying to take you. — Guy Finley

I have fought the long defeat and brought other people on to fight the long defeat, and I'm not going to stop because we keep losing. Now I actually think sometimes we may win. I don't dislike victory ... You know, people from our background-like you, like most PIH-ers, like me-we're used to being on a victory team, and actually what we're really trying to do in PIH is to make common cause with the losers. Those are two very different things. We want to be on the winning team, but at the risk of turning our backs on the losers, no, it's not worth it. So you fight the long defeat. — Tracy Kidder

I ran a constant low fever waiting for my ride to come and take me away to something finer. I lay in bed at night, watching the red beacon on top of the water tower, a clear signal to me of the beauty and mystery of a life that waited for me far away, and thought of Housman's poem,
"Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom upon the bough.
It stands among the woodland ride,
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my three-score years and ten,
Twenty will not come again ... "
and would have run away to where people would appreciate me, had I known of such a place, had I thought my parents would understand. But if I had said, "Along the woodland I must go to see the cherry hung with snow," they would have said, "Oh,no, you don't. You're going to stay right here and finish up what I told you to do three hours ago. Besides, those aren't cherry trees, those are crab apples. — Garrison Keillor

Eve: "She had big plans for me. Kind of a pet, I imagine. Like William. Her little trained dog. And with you dead, she figured I'd inherit all your goodies. You're not going to do that to me are you?"
Roarke: "What, die?"
Eve: "Leave me all this stuff."
Roarke: "Only you would be annoyed by that. — J.D. Robb

?-: Yes, I must say, that part distressed me a bit. I had no idea girls could do that ...
(JUNE and RUTH look at him.)
RUTH: Do what, exactly?
?-: Be nude. I thought they just spontaneously combusted or something if they even tried taking off their sweaters.
JUNE: But, how did you think we bathed?
?-: I just assumed you just never got dirty, with the exception of your hair. You know, cause girls are always washing their hair ...
JUNE: But this is ridiculous. How did you think sex happened?
?-: To be honest, I'd never really thought about sex. Oh, dear ... Am I going to have to do that someday? Are we? I need to read up on this.
(He takes out a memorandum and begins scribbling.) — Benjamin R. Smith

Speaking of names and all-time favorite romances, Bailey told me you write under a pen name. I've been really curious about that."
Fern groaned loudly. She shook her fist toward Bailey's house. "Curse your big mouth, Bailey Sheen" She looked at Ambrose with trepidation. "You are going to think I'm some stalker chick. That I'm totally obsessed. But you have to remember that I came up with this alter ego when I was sixteen and I was a bit obsessed. Okay, I'm still a bit obsessed."
"With what?" Ambrose was confused.
"With you," Fern's response was muffled as she buried her forehead in his chest, but Ambrose still heard her. He laughed and forced her chin up so he could see her face. "I still don't understand what that has to do with your pen name."
Fern sighed. "It's Amber Rose."
"Ambrose?"
"Amber Rose," Fern corrected.
"Amber Rose?" Ambrose sputtered.
"Yes," Fern said in a very, very small voice. And Ambrose laughed for a very, very long time. — Amy Harmon

She stood looking at me, and, of course, I stood looking at her.
"Am I pretty?"
"Yes; I think you are very pretty."
"Am I insulting?"
"Not so much so as you were last time," said I.
"Not so much so?"
"No."
She fired when she asked the last question, and she slapped my face with such force as she had, when I answered it.
"Now," said she. "You little course monster, what do you think of me now?"
"I shall not tell you."
"Because you are going to tell upstairs. Is that it?"
"No," said I. "That is not it."
"Why don't you cry again, you little wretch?"
"Because I'll never cry for you again," said I. — Charles Dickens

What bedrooms did you give to our guests?"
"The ones all the way ... way ... way on the other side of the manse."
He laughed at that, hugging her tightly for giving him that ability to indulge in humor once more.
"Then I'd say the bedroom with the old armoire you like should suffice."
"Yes, master," she teased, flicking her hand and sending them there. "Oops, one sec." She winked at him and snapped her fingers, the bottle of lotion suddenly in her hand.
"Show-off. You know, you are going to have to tell me how you do that."
"Well, first you pump this little thing on top, then the lotion - "
Legna yelped when he slapped his hand hard on her bottom, the blanket doing little to shield her from the sting of it.
"Gideon! Do not ever do that again!" she scolded.
"Not even if you beg me to?" he countered lecherously.
Legna laughed, unable to help herself.
"I hate you!"
"No, you do not," he insisted. "How many times do I have to tell you that? — Jacquelyn Frank

The whole point of the game is not to stick with one thing, because when that one thing ends, then what are you going to do? For me, I have movies, '106 & Park,' music, and other things to fall back on. — Bow Wow

Well, if I were you, I'd leave him. I'd find someone with a more normal way of looking at things and live happily ever after. There's no way in hell you can be happy with him. The way he lives, it never crosses his mind to try to make himself happy or to make others happy. Staying with him will only wreck your nervous system. To me, it's already a miracle that you've been with him three years. Of course, I'm very fond of him in my own way. He's fun, and he has lots of great qualities.
He has strengths and abilities that I could never hope to match. But in the end, his ideas about things and the way he lives his life are not normal. Sometimes, when I'm talking to him, I feel as if I'm going
around and around in circles. The same process that takes him higher and higher leaves me going around in circles. It makes me feel so empty! Finally, our very systems are totally different. Do you see what I'm saying? — Haruki Murakami

I like your coat," she announced, as if her approval of my dress were the supreme prize in a good-taste contest.
"Does that mean I get to see Jill?"
She considered this. "Perhaps it does," she said.
"Just what are your intentions concerning my roommate?"
"I'm going to kidnap her and hold her for ransom."
"Really?" she said, appearing delighted. "How splendid."
"Or else I'll put her in a cage and show her for money, but I think you'd be more suitable for that role."
She nodded. "Yes. The kidnapping is a much better idea." She stood straight and walked with exaggerated grace into the living room. There was a very nice wooden stairway, curving back on itself with a stained-glass window at the landing. She called, "Jill! Your kidnapper is here," and gave me a big smile.
"Aren't you going to come in?" she said.
"Only if you want me to. We kidnappers are very polite."
"Oh do, by all means. — Steven Brust

Are you kidding me?' Shan asked, slightly drunk, slightly dramatic, and now sitting yoga style on the floor. 'You can't write an honest novel about race in this country. If you write about how people are really affected by race, it'll be too obvious. Black writers who do literary fiction in this country, all three of them, not the ten thousand who write those bullshit ghetto books with the bright covers, have two choices: they can do precious or they can do pretentious. When you do neither, nobody knows what to do with you. So if you're going to write about race, you have to make sure it's so lyrical and subtle that the reader who doesn't read between the lines won't even know it's about race ... ' p.335 — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Slowly, Woyzeck, take it slowly. One thing after another one. You make me feel giddy. - What am I supposed to do with the ten minutes you save rushing that way? What use are they to me? Think about it, Woyzeck; you've got a good thirty years left. Thirty years. That makes three hundred and sizty months - and then there's days, hours, minutes! What're you going to do with such a monstrous amount of time? Eh? Space it out a bit, Woyzeck. — Georg Buchner

Because if you take something you're a thief.' She nursed the silence a moment. Downed the balance of her drink and silently signaled for another. 'Sounds simple, but you'd be amazed how many people don't get it. They steal but they call themselves honest. They cheat on their spouses and lovers but they think they're good people. They lie but they'd never call themselves liars. Well, let me tell you something, Todd ... She pointed toward him with her right hand, with her lit cigarette. He leaned away slightly. She looked into the mirror of his eyes and saw herself going too far. 'You are what you do. That's what I'm trying to tell you. What we do defines us. However we behave, conduct our lives ... that's real. The rest is just a story for publication. — Catherine Ryan Hyde

Are we going to do this again?" I grumbled. "Do what?" "The damsel-in-distress and knight-in-shining armor bit." Pain flashed in his eyes. "That's not how I see us," he murmured, sliding his hand to the side of my neck. "I told you before, you're no damsel. You're more like a butt-kicking dragon." He caressed my cheek with his hand. "Oh, thanks." I attempted to sound annoyed, but his touch melted away the irritation in my voice. "Plus, I've worn armor before, and trust me, it's not my style. — Ada Adams

We are a traditional family in many ways," she replied enigmatically, avoiding a lie. She wasn't above lying to serve her mission, but not to Sam, not if she could help it.
His eyes warmed. "So we're back to you giving me instructions on how to properly court you. Do I ask your brother's permission?"
He was stealing her heart with his sincerity. She shook her head. "I am not a woman who would be practical in your life, Sam. You need a home and family . . ."
He laughed, interrupting her carefully chosen words. The sound was pure masculine amusement, sending a curling heat through her and making her forget everything she was going to say.
"I'm a soldier, Azami. That's who I am. What I am. My woman will be my home - my family. Beyond that, who knows? I believe you're that woman. — Christine Feehan

What is the future going to be like, then?'
'Hey, it's gonna be a gas,' Scape assured me. 'If you're into machines and stuff - like I am - you'd go for it. People are gonna have all kinds of shit. Do whatever they want with it. That's why it didn't faze me when ol' Bendray first told me about wanting to blow up the world. Hey - in the Future, everybody will want to! — K.W. Jeter

Not that I say,"Oh,I'm not going to associate with certain people.," but I have my world,and I only want to be around people who I feel stimulated by. I have to be honest I do have a new quest: I want to meet more vegetarians,people who are more like minded. There's something real neat about that feeling. It makes you feel so settled to know there's somebody else sitting right there,being so passionate about what I'm passionate about. I don't want to be around selfish people. I try to keep myself surrounded by deep people who will move me. — Alicia Silverstone

I hope you were going to come pry your sister off my back," Paca clips as Rayna swims up. "She's quite rude."
Galen throws Rayna a look, to which she lifts her chin. "Paca and her pudgy father over there are full of whale dung," Rayna informs her brothers.
"Rayna," Grom barks. "Mind your manners."
Rayna lifts her chin even higher. Here we go. "Paca is a fraud, Grom," she says. "You can't mate with her. Sorry to ruin your ceremony. Let's go, Galen."
Paca gasps as Jagen swims up to the party, almost stuttering in his fury. "You little ... little stonefish! How dare you insult my daughter?"
Galen grabs Rayna's arm. "What did you do?" he hisses.
She jerks her arm away and gives him a superior look. "If Paca has the Gift of Poseidon, I have the Gift of Triton. Don't ask me what it is though, because I don't have a clue."
"Rayna, enough!" Grom says, grabbing her other arm. "Apologize. Right now."
"Apologize for what? Telling the truth? Sorry, not feeling it. — Anna Banks

I observed an eighteen-year-old friend of one of our daughters talking to his mother on the telephone. As he hung up the phone in frustration he said, "She makes me so angry, she's always telling me what to think and where to go and how to do things." He was obviously upset and filled with anger. I told him he had one of two choices. He could either continue to practice being right, or practice being kind. If you insist on being right you will argue, get frustrated, angry, and your problem will persist with your mom, I explained. If you simply practice being kind, you can remind yourself that this is your mom, she's always been that way, she will very likely stay that way, but you are going to send her love instead of anger when she starts in with her routine. A simple statement of kindness such as, "That's a good point, Mom, I'll think about it," and you have a spiritual solution to your problem. — Wayne W. Dyer

I think that it drives from an emotional connection with everybody that pulls you through all of those events, whether it's the events or what would be more the action, or I guess the visual effects side of it. So it always starts with me from - emotionally - 'Why do you care about the people who are going through what they're going through?' Because it takes a hell of a lot to put them through that. So you better care for them when they're doing it. — Len Wiseman

Emma, you and your poetry, me and my acting--what are we trying to do? We can't top this city. We poor would-be artists can't compete with or improve on the rich density of human experience on any random, average, slow summer night in New York--who are we trying to kid? In the overheard conversation in the elevator, in the five minutes of talk the panhandler gives you before hitting you for the handout, in the brief give-and-take when you are going out and the cleaning lady is coming in--there are the real stories, incredible, heartbreaking and ridiculous, there are the command performances, the Great American Novels but forever unwritten, untoppable, and so beautifully unaware. — Wilton Barnhardt

Why are you afraid of death? Is it perhaps because you do not know how to live? If you knew how to live fully, would you be afraid of death? If you loved the trees, the sunset, the birds, the falling leaf; if you were aware of men and women in tears, of poor people, and really felt love in your heart, would you be afraid of death? Would you? Don't be persuaded by me. Let us think about it together. You do not live with joy, you are not happy, you are not vitally sensitive to things; and is that why you ask what is going to happen when you die? Life for you is sorrow, and so you are much more interested in death. You feel that perhaps there will be happiness after death. But that is a tremendous problem, and I do not know if you want to go into it. After all, fear is at the bottom of all this - fear of dying, fear of living, fear of suffering. If you cannot understand what it is that causes fear and be free of it, then it does not matter very much whether yo u are living or dead. — Jiddu Krishnamurti

No way you're calling Ben. We already have a plan. Were going to his house, and I'm going to ring the doorbell with some fake lab work for Chemistry, and then Taylor is going to set off his car alarm while I year through his room looking for evidence."
"Wow. Great plan, Kate. Just out of curiosity, what exactly are you planning on doing when he comes back to his room to find you knee-deep in his secret Brotherhood bullshit?" Liam spat his words at me like nails.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you have a better idea? Ooh, I know. Maybe you could call you're brother and have him light his garage on fire or something. — Lisa Roecker

I'm alright," Loki assured me with a grin and stepped out into the hall, so we could have some privacy from onlookers. "What can I do for you, Princess?"
"Can I cut off your head?" I asked.
"Are you asking for my permission?" Loki tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. "Because I'm going to have to say no to this one request, Princess."
"No, I mean, can I?" I asked. "As in, am I capable of it? Would you die if I did?"
"Of course I would die." Loki put one hand against the wall and leaned on it. "I'm not a bloody cockroach. What's all this about? What are you trying to find out? — Amanda Hocking

I often think of a quote from entrepreneur Jim Rohn: 'You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.' Surround yourself with people who are doing interesting things, who are thinking interesting thoughts, who challenge you to be better, and who come from a diverse set of backgrounds and experiences. That, combined with appropriate moments of 'me' time, provides the perfect breeding ground for great ideas. And whatever you do, don't get hung up on what competitors are doing. Be aware of what's going on in the industry, but don't let it dictate your own creative process. — Alexis Ohanian

I sit on my bed and think about Nader McMillan and wonder what I'm going to do. Ignore him. Stand up to him. Avoid him. Be "tough." I think of the stuff Dad has said over the years. How he finally gave up suggesting things. Why are you asking me this? I never figured out what to do about my own bullies. How am I supposed to know what to do with yours? — A.S. King

My anger mounted. "What about your son and me? What about us? How can you even think of leaving me alone here with our baby boy? Telemachus needs his father. What's going to happen to us if you leave? Who will help me raise him? Who will take care of us? You know as well as I do some of the men around here are nothing but a bunch of scoundrels. Mark my words, Odysseus. The second you're gone, they'll swarm in here like bees around honey. They'll take over the place. I won't be able to do a thing to stop them. — Tamara Agha-Jaffar

Come on, tough guy." "You can get fresh with me in the snow and threaten me with a gun all you want. But if you really want my help, you'll put your weight on me and move your feet." "In about two minutes, my extremities are going to be so numb I won't be able to do anything for either of us - even if you do shoot. So move."

He couldn't have been rescued by some meek, mousy thing who'd do what he said without the attitude? He tapped the butt of the gun against her shoulder. "That's pretty bold talk for a woman who's got no advantage."

"Uh-huh. I'm not the one bleeding to death. — Julie Miller

You never know what's actually going on in a person's life. You don't know what happened to them before you met them ... and that's why they are the way they are. But I do think about it whenever I get in contact with my fans. I know this may be the only time they'll ever meet me. I try to take advantage of that moment and be kind and grateful. — Katy Perry

I thought the other ones were so obviously - what are we going to do if she burns down the house? The DEA, which I think was maybe the best one because she's wearing the jacket when she goes through the mirror and I think that was kind of amazing because you really weren't expecting that. There's something almost slapstick about this in a way that worried me. It was a little pratfalley with the golf club and the - but I think it probably cut together okay. — Mary-Louise Parker

Careful!" I said. "Don't twist like that, or your dressing will come off! What are you trying to do?" "Get my plaid loose to cover you," he replied. "You're shivering. But I canna do it one-handed. Can ye reach the clasp of my brooch for me?" With a good deal of tugging and awkward shifting, we got the plaid loosened. With a surprisingly dexterous swirl, he twirled the cloth out and let it settle, shawllike, around his shoulders. He then put the ends over my shoulders and tucked them neatly under the saddle edge, so that we were both warmly wrapped. "There!" he said. "We dinna want ye to freeze before we get there." "Thank you," I said, grateful for the shelter. "But where are we going?" I couldn't see his face, behind and above me, but he paused a moment before answering. At last he laughed shortly. "Tell ye the truth, lassie, I don't know. Reckon we'll both find out when we get there, eh? — Diana Gabaldon

Don't change, Dorian; at any rate, don't change to me. We must always be friends." "Yet you poisoned me with a book once. I should not forgive that. Harry, promise me that you will never lend that book to anyone. It does harm." "My dear boy, you are really beginning to moralise. You will soon be going about warning people against all the sins of which you have grown tired. You are much too delightful to do that. Besides, it is no use. You and I are what we are, and will be what we will be. — Oscar Wilde

What about you? What are you going to be?" I knew immediately I shouldn't have asked. His smile faded, and he looked down at his hands in his lap. I'd about had enough of tiptoeing around his illness. "How do you expect God to heal you if you don't even believe it?" I spoke firmly to make sure my own heart got the message as well. "I believe that you, Matthew Doyle, are going to be fine someday. So when I ask you what you want to do with your life, I ask cause I know you're going to have a life! I'm tired of all this moping around waiting to die malarkey." He raised his eyebrows and pushed himself forward in the chair. "I know what you believe, Ruby. You been saying it since the day you got here. And I ain't getting any better. You're just putting me in a position of disappointing you, and I can't hardly stand that. Don't you think I want a life?" "I don't know. Do you?" "Of course I do! — Jennifer H. Westall

The main thing you worry about is just coming up with songs at all. I don't sit down and write stuff like certain writers do. They think about what they are going to write first and then they write it. I just get what comes in at me. It's like I'm a musician and if I can keep my mitt on, I can catch the balls that come at me. — Steven Tyler

Make no mistake,' He says, 'if you let me, I will make you perfect. The moment you put yourself in My hands, that is what you are in for. Nothing less, or other, than that. You have free will, and if you choose, you can push Me away. But if you do not push Me away, understand that I am going to see this job through. Whatever suffering it may cost you in your earthly life, whatever inconceivable purification it may cost you after death, whatever it costs Me, I will never rest, nor let you rest, until you are literally perfect - until my Father can say without reservation that He is well pleased with you, as He said He was well pleased with me. This I can do and will do. But I will not do anything less. — C.S. Lewis

Next caller. Betty, you're on the air. What's your question ?"
"Hi, Kitty. I just wanted to know, are you going out with that Cormac guy from last month?"
My jaw dropped. "What?"
"Are you going out with that Cormac guy?"
"We are talking about the same Cormac who tried to kill me on the air, yes? the guy who hunts werewolves for a living ?"
"Uh-huh."
"And you want to know if I'm dating him ? Why on earth do you think that's a good idea? — Carrie Vaughn

Another voice rages.
I hate that boy! I hate me! I am so incredibly stupid!
A sunflower leans over the fence, smiling
How dare you!
I rip off its head and throw it in the gutter.
The smart thing to do is to keep going on. Walk away quickly and no one will know what I've done. But I can't move because my eyes are locked on the slowly opening front door - locked on Mrs Muir.
'I'm sorry.' My tiny voice sounds so pathetically lame, but I've still got more lameness for her. 'I never do this sort of thing. I like sunflowers. I was just angry about something - nothing to do with you or the flower. I'm really, really sorry.'
'Oh, you are upset! Well, never mind'. Mrs Muir comes closer to me. 'Goodness, we all get cross. The main thing is: did it make you feel any better?'
'No. Yes. Maybe. A little bit.'
'Would you like to do another one? There's more out the back, too. You go for your life dear. I don't mind at all - they need a good pruning. — Bill Condon

As one human resources professional said to me, "I wish someone would tell twentysomethings that the office has a completely different culture than what they are used to. You can't start an e-mail with 'Hey!' You're probably going to have to work at one thing for quite a while before being promoted - or even complimented. People are going to tell you not to tweet about work or put stupid posts on your Gchat status. Not to wear certain clothes. You have to think about how you speak and write. How you act. Twentysomethings who've never had jobs don't know this. Neither do the scanners and baristas who've been hanging out at work chatting with their friends. — Meg Jay

Maybe ... because for the first time ... there was a chance I could keep him," I say.
"So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?"
"Put you somewhere you can't get hurt."
And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh. — Suzanne Collins

I fell in love with that movie [Now You See Me]. I liked the actors. I thought it was an interesting world. When they called me with the opportunity to direct the next one, the first question I needed to address was, what are we going to do to make it different? How can I add something to the franchise? If I can't add anything, then there's no reason for me to do it. — Daniel Radcliffe

I gave myself to you sooner than I ever did to any man, I swear to you; and do you know why? Because when you saw me spitting blood you took my hand; because you wept; because you are the only human being who has ever pitied me. I am going to say a mad thing to you: I once had a little dog who looked at me with a sad look when I coughed; that is the only creature I ever loved. When he died I cried more than when my mother died. It is true that for twelve years of her life she used to beat me. Well, I loved you all at once, as much as my dog. If men knew what they can have for a tear, they would be better loved and we should be less ruinous to them. — Alexandre Dumas-fils

The girls I grew up with they're living normal, adult lives. So they call me now and they're like, 'Amy, I'm pregnant.' And I still react like, 'What are you going to do? I'll drive you, I guess. — Amy Schumer

That's why I didn't want to touch you I knew I'd go crazy if I touched you, and now, it tears me open to ask you to be with me when I know I'm just going to do something to hurt you again!
Yes! Yes you probably are, you idiot! And it's going to be a damn skydive for me, and I'm going to hang on tight and just jump with you because that's what you do to me. — Katy Evans

There are records that you just sink into. They coincide with what you're going through and become an ally. If our records do that for people, that's the greatest compliment I could ever receive. That's one of the reasons making music is so important to me, because there's a very strange emotional reach. For me - more than books or movies or other things - music is like a mainline to your heart. — Matt Berninger

Are you kidding?" She looked at me as if I'd just dropped from the moon. Her cheeks were bright red.
"What's the problem now?" I demanded.
"Me, go with you to the...the 'Thrill Ride of Love'? How embarrassing is that? What if somebody saw me?"
"Who's going to see you?" But my face was burning now, too. Leave it to a girl to make everything complicated. "Fine," I told her. "I'll do it myself." But when I started down the side of the pool, she followed me, muttering about how boys always messed things up. — Rick Riordan

Bing tightened his fingers around hers...."I know what I want."
She raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"
"Only you." And as he said the words, he felt a tremendous weight lifting from his chest. "It's always been only you..."
"All right." She narrowed her eyes. "But if you break my heart, I'm going to have Peaches have words with you."
"That's threatening a police officer. Technically."
"What are you going to do?" She flashed him a teasing smile. "Arrest me?"
He bent his head to hers, all the way to her ear. "Stick with me and there might just be some handcuffs in your future," he whispered.
She laughed out loud. "I'll take that as an incentive to speedily recover. — Dana Marton

Wendell and Tanya and I spoke at length about one of his themes that drives me with constancy, that of "good work." One aspect of this topic that I often regurgitate is his dislike for a society that celebrates the notion of "Thank God it's Friday!" Taking this position, people are necessarily saying that they despise five of every seven days of their lives. He said he first noticed it when he was teaching college, that people would answer the question "How are you doing?" with "Well, pretty good, for a Monday." This exposed a joylessness that filled Mr. Berry with concern. "It's a great harbinger of what's to come. If you don't like the classes about what you're going to do, you're not going to like going to do it." "More — Nick Offerman

She straightened, forcing herself not to feel guilty. "All right, fine. I'm leaving. I'm going to Paelsia and I don't care what anyone says. Are you going to try to stop me?" Nic studied her for a moment, his expression neutral. "No. But I'll tell you what I am going to do." "What?" He grinned. "I'm going with you. — Morgan Rhodes

What are you doing?" she asked.
I don't know. Instinct not logic currently dictated his actions. But he didn't admit this aloud.
"Do you always ask so many questions?"
"Only when I'm trying to understand what's going on."
"Isn't it obvious?"
Confusion clouded her gaze. "No."
Did she not sense the attraction between them? Of course she didn't. She
was a simple human. She couldn't know how his bear chuffed at her
nearness. How the scent of her aroused him. How he wanted to lay claim
to her body. What the (deuce) is wrong with me?
Apparently, his grandmother wondered the same thing. "Reid Alexander Carver, what are you doing manhandling our guest?"
Oops, caught harboring naughty thoughts and jolted back to sanity. What am I doing? — Eve Langlais

I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, 'So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?' I turn into him. 'Put you somewhere you can't get hurt. — Suzanne Collins

The door jerked open and he glowered at her. "What do you want?"
"Hey! Why are you mad at me? I just want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk," he said, pushing the door closed.
With inexplicable courage, she put her booted food in it's path. "Then maybe you can listen."
"No!" he bellowed.
"You're not going to scare me!" she shouted at him.
Then he roared like a wild animal. He bared his teeth, his eyes lit like there were gold flames in them, and the sound that came out of him was otherworldly.
She jumped back, her eyes as wide as hubcaps. "Okay," she said, putting up her hands, palms toward him. "Maybe you do scare me. A little."
-Ian and Marcie — Robyn Carr