How She Makes You Feel Quotes

#1. Is this weird?" she asked with a satisfied sigh.
Jay shook his head. "Nah," he answered, rubbing his hand along the sensitive skin of her arm. "It was gonna happen eventually. I'm just glad it's finally out there...I was getting tired of waiting."
Violet was confused. Out there? What the hell was that supposed to mean? It was going to happen eventually? How could he have known what was going to happen?
She wiggled out from beneath him. "What do you mean, you were tried of waiting? Waiting for what, exactly?" She propped herself back up on her elbow as she interrogated him, waiting for an answer.
He let the question linger between them for longer than he needed to, deliberately teasing Violet as she waited impatiently. But when he finally did answer her, it proved to be well worth the minor annoyance. "I was just waiting for you to want me as much as I wanted you." His words were quiet but carried one hell of an impact. "I knew we were going to be together; it was just a matter of time. I kept hoping that you would figure it out. But for a smart girl, you're a little dense, Vi. I kept bringing up Lissie Adams, and showing you the notes she was leaving me, hoping that you'd get pissed enough to finally admit how you felt about me."
Lissie Adams. Just hearing the other girl's name made Violet bristle enviously, causing her to shiver. She rubbed her arms protectively and hoped that Jay didn't notice.
"What makes you think I was feeling anything?" she #Quote by Kimberly Derting

#2. Your charm makes me want to punch you in the nose."
That made Ricky chuckle. "I'm not trying to piss you off, darlin'. Just trying to get you to give me a chance."
"Why?" she had to ask. "I'm really not that interesting. I'm cute but not stunning. I'm not excessively tall. And sexually, I'm rather vanilla. So then what is it?"
Rickey decided to be honest with her. "I like your hair."
She suddenly went tense. "You don't have to be mean."
"I'm not. I like curls. If we have sex, can I play with them?"
"I don't even know how to respond to that. #Quote by Shelly Laurenston

#3. For a while now, I have been conscious of a tension in my relationship with you," Svetlana said. "And I think that's the reason. It's because we both make up narratives about our own lives. I think that's why we decided not to live together next year. Although obviously it's also why we're so attracted to each other."

"Everyone makes up narratives about their own lives."

"But not to the same extent. Think about my roommates. Fern, for example. I don't mean that she doesn't have an inner life, or that she doesn't think about the past or make plans for the future. But she doesn't compulsively rehash everything that happens to her in the form of a story. She's in my story – I'm not in hers. That makes her and me unequal, but it also gives our relationship a kind of stability, and safeness. We each have our different roles. It's like an unspoken contract. With you, there's more instability and tension, because I know you're making up a story, too, and in our story, I'm just a character."

"I don't know," I said. "I still think everyone experiences their own life as a narrative. If you didn't have some kind of ongoing story in mind, how would you know who you were when you woke up in the morning?"

"That's a weak definition of narrative. That's saying that narrative is just memory plus causality. But, for us, the narrative has aesthetics, too."

"But I don't think that's because of our personalities," I said. Isn't it more about #Quote by Elif Batuman

#4. Can you call a man?"
"If I choose to," she said, surprised. "I have never done it."
"Then if you ever have anything to fear from any man who comes here, will you call me? I will come. Whatever I am doing will remain undone, and I will come to you. Will you?"
"But why? You know I will do nothing for you. Why would you ride all the way from Sirle to help me?"
He looked at her silently. Then he shrugged, the snow melting in his fiery hair. "I do not know. Because. Will you?"
"If I need you, I will call."
He loosed her hand, smiling. "And I will come."
"But I probably will not. Anyway, if I want you, I can call you, and you will come without choice."
He sighed. He said patiently, "I choose to come. It makes a difference."
"Does it?" Then her eyes curved slightly in a smile. "Go home to your world of the living, Coren. That is where you belong. I can take care of myself."
"Perhaps." He gathered the reins in his hands, turned his mount toward the road that wound downward to Mondor. Then he looked back at her, his eyes the color of clear mountain water. "But one day you will find out how good it is to have someone who chooses to come when you call. #Quote by Patricia A. McKillip

#5. As a mother I see the future in the present. Every little thing she does or says makes me form a hypothesis of how she will see life and treat others in 20 years. So I plan for how amazing she will be now. Instead of living my life I have to live hers. Some may not understand how important it is to be a parent. How present, efficient, selfless, and imaginative you must be. But I do. I only pray that this little face is stronger than I am and more successful for this world and the next. I chase her butterflies. She was created from scratch and presented as a gift from God. She will never roam free, unattended and unloved. #Quote by Kimberley Alecia Smith

#6. Chronicler shook his head and Bast gave a frustrated sigh. "How about plays? Have you seen The Ghost and the Goosegirl or The Ha'penny King?"
Chronicler frowned. "Is that the one where the king sells his crown to an orphan boy?"
Bast nodded. "And the boy becomes a better king than the original. The goosegirl dresses like a countess and everyone is stunned by her grace and charm." He hesitated, struggling to find the words he wanted. "You see, there's a fundamental connection between seeming and being. Every Fae child knows this, but you mortals never seem to see. We understand how dangerous a mask can be. We all become what we pretend to be."
Chronicler relaxed a bit, sensing familiar ground. "That's basic psychology. You dress a beggar in fine clothes, people treat him like a noble, and he lives up to their expectations."
"That's only the smallest piece of it," Bast said. "The truth is deeper than that. It's..." Bast floundered for a moment. "It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story."
Frowning, Chronicler opened his mouth, but Bast held up a hand to stop him. "No, listen. I've got it now. You meet a girl: shy, unassuming. If you tell her she's beautiful, she'll think you're sweet, but she won't believe you. She knows that beauty lies in your beholding." Bast gave a grudging shrug. "And sometimes that's enough."
His eyes b #Quote by Patrick Rothfuss

#7. A Word with Jose Rodriguez-Feo"

As one of the secretaries of the moon
The queen of ignorance, you have deplored
How she presides over imbeciles. The night
Makes everything grotesque. Is it because
Night is the nature of man's interior world?
Is lunar Habana the Cuba of the self?

We must enter boldly that interior world
To pick up relaxations of the known.
For example, the old man selling oranges
Sleeps by his basket. He snores. His bloated breath
Bursts back. what not quite realized transit
Of ideas moves wrinkled in a motion like

The cry of an embryo? the spirit tires,
It has, long since, grown tired, of such ideas.
It says there is an absolute grotesque.
There is a nature that is grotesque within
The boulevards of the generals. Why should
We say that it is man's interior world

Or seeing the spent, unconscious shapes of night,
Pretend they are shapes of another consciousness?
The grotesque is not a visitation. It is
Not apparition but appearance, part
Of that simplified geography, in which
The sun comes up like news from Africa. #Quote by Wallace Stevens

#8. I make the best eggplant parmigiana. Except maybe my mother. The way she makes it is delicious. If I told you how, I'd have to kill you. #Quote by Cara Buono

#9. If you're a coward--and let's just say that you are, for the sake of argument--it means nothing. My Aunt Peg, she's an alcoholic. She can't handle drinking. It ruins her life and turns her into a mess--and do you know what that means? It means nothing. Do you think it makes her a bad person? Of course not--it's just the way she is. Alcoholism just happened to her, Frank. Things happen to people. We are the way we are--there's nothing to be done for it. My Uncle Billy--he couldn't keep a promise or stay faithful to a woman. It meant nothing. He was a wonderful person, Frank, and he was completely untrustworthy. It's just how he was. It didn't mean anything. We all still loved him. #Quote by Elizabeth Gilbert

#10. There's four things a real man has to be able to do for a woman."
"Exactly how many man-lists do you have?"
He let my wrist go and ticked the items off on his fingers. "Fix her car. Grill her a steak. Kick the ass of any guy who makes her cry. And fuck her so hard she wakes up half-crippled."
"Oh my God. #Quote by Cara McKenna

#11. I don't yell back at my mother. When I'm angry or scared or upset, I don't yell. I stay quiet. I've seen how she is, how she would get with Kent and with me and with other people, life if someone at the pharmacy got in the wrong line or asked too long a question, or if someone on the bus accidentally bumped her. I've watched her my whole life, the way people react to her. It doesn't actually help you get what you want, yelling and being like that. It only makes people think bad of you. #Quote by Sara Zarr

#12. You need to sac up, dude. Whenever you put yourself in a serious relationship, you run the risk of getting hurt. It's how it works." "But usually you trust the other person not to do it." He shrugged. "Yeah. And what makes you think she will? Because of last time? You mean when she was scared out of her mind with a life-or-death diagnosis right after breaking up with her boyfriend? You really think that's a time to judge how someone's going to act under more normal circumstances?" I swallowed, suddenly feeling like a dick myself. #Quote by Brenna Aubrey

#13. Chuckling, Jason picked up the bucket of explosives.
Rachel felt the moment slipping away. There was so much she wanted to say. What if something happened to him? What if she never told him how much she appreciated his coming back to Lyrian for her? How much she cared about him? There were too many feelings to translate into words. "See you later," she managed.
"Not if I see you first," Jason said, starting toward the main doors of the temple.
She watched him walking away. Were those the last words he would say to her? She stalked after him. "You can't leave with a joke."
He glanced back. "Why not?"
"What if I die?"
"Then at least I cheered you up before the end."
"That wasn't a cheerful joke. It was a teasing joke. And not even a very good one."
"Fine. Why did the baby cross the road?"
"No jokes," Rachel complained, striding alongside him.
"I guess it's more fitting that we should end with an argument."
"I just mean there are certain times when jokes aren't appropriate."
"Which makes them more needed and funny. #Quote by Brandon Mull

#14. Josh and Rashmi are making out-I can actually see tongue-so I turn to my bread and grapes.How biblical of me.
The grapes are smaller than I'm used to, and the skin is slightly textured. Is that dirt? I dip my napkin in water and dab at the tiny purple globes. It helps, but they're still sort of rough. Hmm. St. Clair and Meredith stop talking. I glance up to find them staring at me in matching bemusement. "What?"
"Nothing," he says. "Continue your grape bath."
"They were dirty."
"Have you tried one?" she asks.
"No,they've still got these little mud flecks." I hold one up to show them. St. Clair plucks it from my fingers and pops it into his mouth.I'm hypnotized by his lips, his throat, as he swallows.
I hesitate. Would I rather have clean food or his good opinion?
He picks up another and smiles. "Open up."
I open up.
The grape brushes my lower lip as he slides it in. It explodes in my mouth, and I'm so startled by the juice that I nearly spit it out. The flavor is intense, more like grape candy than actual fruit. To say I've tasted nothing like it before is an understatement. Meredith and St. Clair laugh. "Wait until you try them as wine," she says.
St. Clair twirls a forkful of pasta. "So. How was French class?"
The abrupt subject change makes me shudder. "Professeur Gillet is scary. She's all frown lines." I tear off a piece of baguette. The crust crackles, and the inside is light and springy. Oh,man. I shove another hun #Quote by Stephanie Perkins

#15. Further light - a whole flood of it - is thrown upon this attraction of the male in petticoats for the female, in the diary of Abbé de Choisy, one of the most brilliant men-women of history, of whom we shall hear a great deal more later. The abbé, a churchman of Paris, was a constant masquerader in female attire. He lived in the days of Louis XIV, and was a great friend of Louis' brother, also addicted to women's clothes. A young girl, Mademoiselle Charlotte, thrown much into his company, fell desperately in love with the abbe, and when the affair had progressed to liaison, the abbe asked her how she came to be won... "I stood in no need of caution as I should have with a man. I saw nothing but a beautiful woman, and why should I be forbidden to love you? What advantages a woman's dress gives you! The heart of a man is there, and and what makes a great impression upon us, and on the other hand, all the charms of the fair sex fascinate us, and prevent us from taking precautions. #Quote by C.J. Bulliet

#16. -I don't know that thin and pretty is what Nat is supposed to be, though. Does that make any sense?"
If she'd been holding on to any illusions about how much she liked Vince Grasso-not lusted for him, which she also did-that last speech would have cinched it. "It makes perfect sense. She's beautiful in her own way, but pretty is something ... else. And I've had friends who were really pretty-it didn't always help them all that much.'
"Yeah," he said. "My wife was pretty, and she was miserable her whole life. I just want my girls to be happy. Be themselves, you know, whatever it is. #Quote by Barbara O'Neal

#17. Terror is the instinct that tells you to run, dear God, run, she murmured. Run for your life. But it just makes you into meat. Predators take the ones who run. Horror is the mind-thing, the worm of knowledge you can't stop turning over no matter how awful it is. It grows in your mind and destroys you by your own intelligence. #Quote by Kat Richardson

#18. How do you know if someone loves herself? No hairstyle, religion, or ethnicity has ownership of self-love or a greater propensity toward self-hatred. The best way to tell if a woman loves herself is by how she treats herself and others. She makes self-loving choices. #Quote by Abiola Abrams

#19. ...we spoke about dying. [Prim] told me how she'd nearly died of malaria. She said that she didn't mind the thought of death. That realizing you're going to die actually makes life better as it's only then that you decide to live the life you really want to live. #Quote by Jennifer Ryan

#20. Your body is yours to protect and to enjoy." She raises both eyebrows at me meaningfully. "Whoever you should choose to partake in that enjoyment, that is your choice, and choose wisely. Every man that ever got to touch me was afforded an honor. A privilege." Stormy waves her hand over me. "All this? It's a privilege to worship at this temple, do you understand my meaning? Not just any young fool can approach the throne. Remember my words, Lara Jean. You decide who, how far, and how often, if ever."
"I had no idea you were such a feminist," I say.
"Feminist?" Stormy makes a disgusted sound in her throat. "I'm no feminist. Really, Lara Jean!"
"Stormy, don't get worked up about it. All it means is that you believe men and women are equal, and should have equal rights."
"I don't think any man is my equal. Women are far superior, and don't you forget it. Don't forget any of the things I just told you. #Quote by Jenny Han

#21. Life for women in ancient Greece was hard - you had to fight for every inch of ground you got. Both Thetis and Briseis are strong, passionate women and in another time and place their lives would have been very different. Part of the tragedy of their characters is how much they have to offer - and how little of that they get to realize. Thetis spends the whole novel fighting the limitations placed on her, desperately trying to eke out the best she can from a bad situation. This makes her fierce and terrifying. #Quote by Madeline Miller

#22. "It was hot at the restaurant," I said. "So I rolled up my sleeves."
"What?"
I pushed my left one up, showing four bruises, dark as ink spots. Simon paled.
"My aunt wanted to know what happened. When I wouldn't tell her, she tricked me into admitting it was a boy. She met Derek this morning and he was rude, so she decided it had to be him. I never confirmed it. If he's in trouble, it is not my fault. I had every right to tell someone and I didn't."
"Okay, okay." He rubbed his mouth, still staring at my arm. "So he grabbed your arm. That's what it looks like. Right? He just grabbed harder than he thought."
"He threw me across the room."
Simon's eyes widened, then he lowered his lids to hide his surprise. "But he didn't mean to. If you saw how freaked out he was last night, you'd know that."
"So that makes it okay? If I lose my temper and smack you, it's all right, because I didn't mean to, didn't plan to."
"You don't understand. He just - "
"She's right." Derek's voice preceded him around the corner.
I shrank back. I couldn't help it. As I did, a look passed through Derek's eyes. Remorse? Guilt? He blinked it away. #Quote by Kelley Armstrong

#23. You are not sacrificing me…to anything." – Abigail
"You started this, babe. The choice is simple. Either you die alone, nobly like a good sport, or the entire world dies with you, which I don't think they'd appreciate much. So put on your big-girl pants and own up to what you and your stupidity caused. It's Joe Versus the Volcano time. But in the end, I don't give a shit what you do. With the exception of the cowboy there and my family, I hate people with a passion that makes your feelings for Jess look like a schoolgirl crush. Lovely thing about my current situation, I'm truly immortal. You annihilate humanity and the world…I'm still good. So whatever you decide, it won't affect me personally. I would say you're the one who'll have to live with the guilt. But either way, you're dead. Whatever. I delivered my message. My job here is done, and I need to get back to the one that I'm still not sure how I let them talk me into doing – which is even weirder and scarier than the Dark-Hunter gig. Jess, call me if she wusses, and I'll make sure you survive the holocaust." – Zarek #Quote by Sherrilyn Kenyon

#24. After my mom died she ate my father up completely. She would have hated it. Every minute of his life since then has been marked by her absence, every action has lacked dimension because she is not there to measure against. And when I was young I didn't understand, but now, I know, how absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird. If I had to live on without you I know I could not do it. But I hope, I have this vision of you walking unencumbered, with your shining hair in the sun. I have not seen this with my eyes, but only with my imagination, that makes pictures, that always wanted to paint you, shining; but I hope that this vision will be true, anyway. #Quote by Audrey Niffenegger

#25. How do I know you're not crazy?" she asks. "How do I know you're not the craziest dude I've ever met?"
"You'll have to test me out."
"You have my info," she says. "I'll think about it."
"Rain," I say. "That's not your real name."
"Does it matter?"
"Well, it makes me wonder what else isn't real."
"That's because you're a writer," she says. "That's because you make things up for a living."
"And?"
"And"
she shrugs
"I've noticed that writers tend to worry about things like that. #Quote by Bret Easton Ellis

#26. Anything well done has the feeling of death to me, of being finished. I don't want to "master" anything. I want to spy, and sneak, and capture things just as they are . . . record all that comes before and after the song - jokes and fights and private moments.

Having an unfillable hole inside is a great catalyst. You're always trying new things to fill it. People with holes look good! Look ready for action. But then sometimes you're home alone, and there's nothing new to try, and the hole's still there. "Hey," it growls, poking you from inside, "I'm hungry." I get tired of it!

We are like two living cells inside a just-dead body - doomed, terrified.

She argues herself out of anything she's working on, halfway through. As I stand there in the downpour and pull the mailbox open and drop my letter down the hole, I think about how Cindy is more beautiful, intelligent, and intricate than me, but still I have the winning point: whatever I do, even when I'm wrong, I go all the way.

It's dark humor, but it's rooted in something real. What you present to the world is light humor. You keep it fun and fast-paced. No one can relate to that long-term. Struggle is what makes life rich - not success. #Quote by Lisa Crystal Carver

#27. April 6 - Today, I learned, the comma, this is, a, comma (,) a period, with, a tail, Miss Kinnian, says its, importent, because, it makes writing, better, she said, somebody, could lose, a lot, of money, if a comma, isnt in, the right, place, I got, some money, that I, saved from, my job, and what, the foundation, pays me, but not, much and, I dont see how, a comma, keeps, you from, losing it,
But, she says, everybody, uses commas, so Ill, use them, too,,,,

April 7 - I used the comma wrong. Its punctuation…Miss Kinnian says a period is punctuation too, and there are lots of other marks to learn.
She said; You, got. to-mix?them!up: She showd? me" how, to mix! them; up, and now! I can. mix (up all? kinds of punctuation - in, my. writing! There" are lots, of rules; to learn? but. Im' get'ting them in my head:
One thing? I, like: about, Dear Miss Kinnian: (thats, the way? it goes; in a business letter (if I ever go! into business?) is that, she: always; gives me' a reason" when - I ask. She"s a gen'ius! I wish? I could be smart-like-her;
Punctuation, is? fun! #Quote by Daniel Keyes

#28. The Romanians really do lead the world when it comes to cursing. "What have you got for me?" I asked a woman from Transylvania who was now living in Vienna.
"Shove your hand up my ass and jerk off my shit," she offered.

I was stunned. "Anyone else would say, 'Shove your hand up my ass,' and then run out of imagination," I told her. "You people, though, you just keep going. And that's what makes you the champions you are." Maybe it's not too late to learn how to drive, I thought, watching as she walked out the door and onto the unsuspecting streets of Vienna, this poet, this queen, this glittering jewel in a city of flint. #Quote by David Sedaris

#29. She smiled apologetically. "You're a good person, which makes the fact you don't trust anyone, really hard for the people who care about you. And Braden, when he cares about someone, has to know everything so he can cover all the bases and protect them. He has to be a guy people can trust. It's just who he is. If he started something with you, he'd only be hurt when you refuse to let him in."
I only sort of took that in. Mostly, I just kept hearing 'you're a good person, which makes the fact that you don't trust anyone, really hard for the people who care about you."
"Am I hurting you, Ellie?" I didn't want to admit how scared I was for her answer.
She exhaled, heavily, seeming to weigh her words. "At first I was. But knowing that you don't mean to hurt me helps. Do I wish you'd trust me more? Yes. Am I going to push it? No." She stood up. "Just know that if you ever do decide to trust me, I'm here. And you can tell me anything. #Quote by Samantha Young

#30. When Alex moved as if to escort Lina, Ian gave him a fierce look and stepped forward to offer his arm.
"If I may, my lady," he said politely.
She raised her eyebrows much as his mother might have done. But she put a hand on the forearm he'd extended and smiled demurely. "You are most kind, sir."
"Sakes, lass," he muttered. "Do you mock my courtesy? Can I do nowt to win your approval?"
She gave him a direct look and said in a normal tone, "Faith, sir, do you seek my approval? You must know that you have earned my gratitude."
"But you still disapprove of how I won it, do you not?"
"That is unfair," she said. "I have already admitted having mixed feelings about that. I do still believe that one should think before leaping into danger."
"What makes you imagine that I do not?"
"I know you don't always think before you act. #Quote by Amanda Scott

#31. I stare in horror at the tweezers. "I don't know how you women manage to put up with having your legs done. or even, you know, your other bits". Joanna smiles. "You should ask your friend Dan,"she says. 'He'll tell you how it feels'. For a moment I just stare back at her,thinking she's joking, before I cotton on. You're kidding? Dan? I point to my crotch. 'Down there?' Joanna nods. Its very popular nowadays. 'I think the guys believe it makes them look, you know, bigger.' And for the rest of the afternoon, I can't get the phrase 'last turkey in the shop' out of my mind. #Quote by Matt Dunn

#32. What it lacks in pizzaz, it makes up for in practicality," I said, hoping Aislinn couldn't hear how terrified I was. But she put her hand on my shoulder-the first time she'd ever touched me-and said, "You'll be fine. If there's one thing I've learned about you, Sophie Brannick, it's that you are one tough little thing."
I almost sad, "Sophie Mercer." Instead I just said, "Thanks, um, Aunt Aislinn."
She pulled her hand back. "Let's not get carried away."
"Right, sorry. #Quote by Rachel Hawkins

#33. My interest in this started one night when I was doing stand-up in a small club in New York. I was talking about texting and I asked for a volunteer who'd met someone recently and had been texting back and forth with them. I read the back-and-forth messages of one gentleman and made jokes about how we were all dealing with some version of this nonsense. I quickly noticed that one woman seemed very puzzled. I asked her why she looked so bewildered, and she explained that this was something that just didn't happen in France, where she was from. This kind of back-and-forth simply didn't exist, she claimed. I asked her, "Okay, well, what would a guy in France text you, if you met him at a bar?" She said, "He would write . . . 'Fancy a fuck?'" And I said, "Whoa. What would you write back?" She said, "I would write yes or no depending on whether I fancied one or not." I was stunned - that kind of makes so much more sense, right? #Quote by Aziz Ansari

#34. The concept of hard times resulting in a positive transformation is repeated in nature over and over again; it's why they say that a diamond is a piece of charcoal that handled stress exceptionally well! Think about how a caterpillar has to cocoon herself in darkness and wait, in a space which becomes far too small for her expanding wings. If you were to interfere with the process and help her out, she would never develop the strength she needs to fly; it's the struggling which makes her powerful enough to break free and become a butterfly. #Quote by Rosie Blythe

#35. Colin's chuckles grew more heartfelt. "You really ought to have more faith in your favorite brother, dear sis."
"He's your favorite brother?" Simon asked, one dark brow raised in disbelief.
"Only because Gregory put a toad in my bed last night," Daphne bit off, "and Benedict's standing has never recovered from the time he beheaded my favorite doll."
"Makes me wonder what Anthony's done to deny him even an honorable mention," Colin murmured.
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Daphne asked pointedly.
Colin shrugged. "Not really."
"Didn't," she asked through clenched teeth, "you just tell me you promised a dance to Prudence Featherington?"
"Gads, no. You must have misheard."
"Perhaps Mother is looking for you, then. In fact, I'm certain I hear her calling your name."
Colin grinned at her discomfort. "You're not supposed to be so obvious," he said in a stage whisper, purposely loud enough for Simon to hear. "He'll figure out that you like him."
Simon's entire body jerked with barely contained mirth.
"It's not his company I'm trying to secure," Daphne said acidly. "It's yours I'm trying to avoid."
Colin clapped a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Daff." He turned to Simon. "Oh, how she wounds me."
"You missed your calling, Bridgerton," Simon said genially. "You should have been on the stage."
"An interesting idea," Colin replied, "but one that would surely give my mother the vapors." His eyes lit up. "Now #Quote by Julia Quinn

#36. You know who used to scare me when I was a little kid? Snuggle the Bear."
"Do I know Snuggle?"
"In those TV ads for that fabric softener. Somebody would say how soft their robe was or their towels, and Snuggle the teddy bear would be hiding behind a pillow or creeping around under a chair, giggling."
"He was just happy that people were pleased."
"No, it was maniacal little giggle. And his eyes were glazed. And how did he get in all those houses to hide and giggle?"
"You're saying Snuggle should've been charged with B and E?"
"Absolutely. Most of the time when he giggled, he covered his mouth with one paw. I always thought he didn't want you to see his teeth."
"Snuggle had bad teeth?" she asked.
"I figured they were rows of tiny vicious fangs he was hiding. When I was maybe four or five, I used to have nightmares where I'd be in bed with a teddy bear, and it was Snuggle, and he was trying to chew open my jugular and suck the lifeblood out of me."
She said, "So much about you suddenly makes more sense than it ever did before."
"Maybe if we aren't cops someday, we can open a toy shop."
"Can we run a toy shop and have guns?"
"I don't see why not," he said. #Quote by Dean Koontz

#37. We've got time," Jared says again.
An abrupt panic, like a warning premonition, makes it impossible for me to speak for a moment. He watches the change on my face with worried eyes. "You don't know that." The despair that softened when he found me strikes like the lash of a whip. "You can't know how much time we'll have. You don't know if we should be counting in months or days or hours."
He laughs a warm laugh, touching his lips to the tense place where my eyebrows pull together. "Don't worry, Mel. Miracles don't work that way. I'll never lose you. I'll never let you get away from me."
She brought me back to the present - to the thin ribbon of the highway winding through the Arizona wasteland, baking under the fierce noon sun - without my choosing to return. I stared at the empty place ahead and felt the empty place inside.
Her thought sighed faintly in my head: you never know how much time you'll have.
The tears I was crying belonged to both of us. #Quote by Stephenie Meyer

#38. I'd rather give her new ones, for I think she is a little bit proud and might not like old things. If she was my sister it would do, because sisters don't mind, but she isn't, and that makes it bad, you see. I know how I can manage beautifully; I'll adopt her! and Rose looked quite radiant with #Quote by Louisa May Alcott

#39. Haymitch isn't thinking of arenas, but something else. "Johanna's back in the hospital."
I assumed Johanna was fine, had passed her exam, but simply wasn't assigned to a sharp shooters' unit. She's wicked with a throwing axe but about average with a gun. "Is she hurt? What happened?"
"It was while she was on the Block. They try to ferret out a soldier's potential weakness. So they flooded the street, " says Haymitch.
This doesn't help. Johanna can swim. At least, I seem to remember her swimming around some in the Quarter Quell. Not like Finnick, of course, but none of us are like Finnick. "So?"
"That's how they tortured her in the Capitol. Soaked her then used electric shocks," says Haymitch. "In the Block, she had some kind of flashback. Panicked, didn't know where she was. She's back under sedation."
Finnick and I just stand there as if we've lost the ability to respond.
I think of the way Johanna never showers. How she forced herself into the rain like it was acid that day. I had attributed her misery to morphling withdrawal.
"You two should go see her. You're as close to friends as she's got," says Haymitch.
That makes the whole thing worse. I don't really know what's between Johanna and Finnick, but I hardly know her. No family. No friends.Not so much as a token from District 7 to set beside her regulation clothes in her anonymous drawer.
Nothing. #Quote by Suzanne Collins

#40. Besides,I like working outdoors. Pa and the boys have always let me help with the ranch chores."
This was received with a raised eyebrow. "Indeed. How kind of them. Willow,the men in your family treat you more like a slave than the young lady you are. It's a sin, I tell you, a deplorable sin!"
Willow shrugged. "Hell...er, ah, heck, I'd rather round up cows than be stuck in the house all day. Besides, there ain't much house work with Pa and the boys gone."
"Humph! Too bad your pa didn't teach you more about the joys of being a lady."
The girl bristled. "I am a lady! I may not wear those fancy, highfalutin clothes, or walk around looking helpless, but that ain't what really makes a lady, you know."
"And what, pray tell, in your opinion, makes a lady, Willow?"
"A woman is a lady as long as she keeps her distance from horny critters of the opposite sex." She grinned proudly and declared, "I do.That makes me a lady!"
"Horny crit-" Shocked, Mrs. Brigham stared a moment, then nodded firmly. "My dear, someone needs to take you in hand, and I know my duty when I see it. Now listen to me, young lady-mind you, I use the term lightly. There's much more to being a lady than avoiding the opposite sex. For instance, ladies don't wear men's pants. Ladies don't herd cattle. And ladies don't smoke, curse, or sneak whiskey. I have it on good authority that you've done all those things and more. And, furthermore, ladies don't know the meaning of...horny!"
#Quote by Charlotte McPherren

#41. It may be difficult to believe," he said. "I know it may have come across as... romantic, because of how I act when I get her letters. Because of that dress she sent me. But sometimes two people have a deep connection. It makes romance seem trivial. It isn't about anything carnal. It's about souls. About the deepest part of who you are as a person. #Quote by Nina LaCour

#42. She gives you a ring or a bracelet that says "Peace," or, "Dream more." And you wear it. You wear it even though your friends see it and say, "What the hell is that?" and, embarrassed, because you know exactly how ridiculous it is, you say, "She gave it to me," and then they say, "Oh," and leave it at that because now it makes sense. Yes, you wear it all the time. But you know it will not work. That is what she is for. #Quote by Nic Kelman

#43. Was in lower school. And she figures it's your fault that things have changed." "That's just idiotic!" Ximena said. "I know!" I said. "It's like Savanna being mad at me for having been in a TV commercial once. It makes no sense." "How do you know all this?" asked Ximena. "Did she tell you?" "No!" I said. "Did you know about the note beforehand?" "No!" I said. Summer rescued me. "So what did Ellie say when she read Maya's note?" she asked Ximena. "Oh, she was so mad," answered Ximena. "She and Savanna want to go all out on Maya, post something super-mean about her on Facebook or whatever. Then Miles drew this cartoon. They want to post it on Instagram." She nodded for Summer to hand me a folded-up piece of loose-leaf paper, which I opened. On it was a crude drawing of a girl (who was obviously Maya) kissing a boy (who was obviously Auggie Pullman). Underneath it was #Quote by R.J. Palacio

#44. Who's the Devil?"
Frances crouches down as if she were talking to Trixie.
"That's something I'll never tell you, Lily, no matter how old you get to be, because the Devil is shy. It makes him angry when someone recognizes him, so once they do the Devil gets after them. And I don't want the Devil to get after you."
"Is the Devil after you?"
"Yes."
"Jesus can beat the Devil."
"If God wants."
"God is against the Devil."
"God made the Devil."
"Why?"
"For fun."
"No, to test us."
"If you know, why are you asking me?"
"Daddy says there's no such thing as the Devil, it's just an idea."
"The Devil lives with us."
"No he doesn't."
"You see the Devil every day. The Devil hugs you and eats right next to you."
"Daddy's not the Devil."
"I never said he was. ..." Frances has got a dry look, tinder in the eye; her voice is a stack of hay heating up at the center, her mouth a stitched line. "I'm the Devil."
This is the moment Lily stops being afraid of anything Frances could ever say or do again. Stops being afraid of anything at all. She reaches out and takes Frances's hand. The white hand that always smells of small wildflowers, lily of the valley. The hand that has always done up Lily's buttons and laces, and produced wondrous objects. She holds Frances's hand and tells her,
"It's okay, Frances. #Quote by Ann-Marie MacDonald

#45. So," I said. "Exactly how long have the two of you been together? I assume that you've been going hot and heavy ever since that night at Fletcher's house when the bounty hunters interrupted you. Am I right?"
Finn and Bria didn't look at me or each other.
"Right," Bria mumbled. "Although if it makes you uncomfortable - "
"Then Gin's just going to have to deal with it," Finn cut her off.
Bria stared at him in surprise.
"What?" Finn said. "I worked too hard and too long to get you into my bed to just cut you loose now, cupcake."
Bria's eyes narrowed. "Cupcake?"
"Cupcake." Finn grinned at her. "Or would you prefer snuggle bunny?"
Bria's hand drifted down to the gun on her leather belt, as though she wanted to pull it out and shoot Finn with it. Well, it was good to know I wasn't the only one who occasionally had that reaction to him.
...
Then I fixed them both with a hard stare. "Just don't ask me to take sides when the two of you go at each other. Okay?"
They nodded, then looked at each other. Finn waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, and Bria snorted. But she couldn't stop a grin from curving her lips. #Quote by Jennifer Estep

#46. To the rocket scientist, you are a problem. You are the most irritating piece of machinery he or she will ever have to deal with. You and your fluctuating metabolism, your puny memory, your frame that comes in a million different configurations. You are unpredictable. You're inconstant. You take weeks to fix. The engineer must worry about the water and oxygen and food you'll need in space, about how much extra fuel it will take to launch your shrimp cocktail and irradiated beef tacos. A solar cell or a thruster nozzle is stable and undemanding. It does not excrete or panic or fall in love with the mission commander. It has no ego. Its structural elements don't start to break down without gravity, and it works just fine without sleep.
To me, you are the best thing to happen to rocket science. The human being is the machine that makes the whole endeavor so endlessly intriguing. #Quote by Mary Roach