“..you don't always know the true worth of a women's love until it becomes a memory.”
“Music is what feelings sound like out loud. I sing songs that speak from my heart. They tell my story, how I feel.”
“Baby, you've fucked my mind without touching my body.”
“Nothing speaks louder than your heart. Listen to what it's telling you.”
“And how old are you, Miss Beckett?”
“Seventeen.”
“What!” There is no way she’s seventeen. I inspect her face, studying it intently, but don’t know what it is I hope to find. Laugh lines maybe?
She watches my face. “Is my age a problem for you?”
“Hell, yeah, seventeen is a problem.” I throw my napkin on the table. All of this has been a waste. “Forget it all. This whole thing is off.”
“I don’t act seventeen. I’m very mature for my age.”
“No way. You’re not even old enough to be drinking that wine.” I lean in and whisper so no one will overhear. “I’m almost twice your age.”
“I don’t mind. I have daddy issues.” She breaks into a huge grin and I hear a girlish giggle. That’s when I realize she’s fucking with me and has the ability to lie with a straight face. I’ll have to remember that for future reference.
I’m not amused. “I see I have a comedienne on my hands.”
“The best way to get over somebody is to get under someone else”
“You might as well be the devil.”
“Baby, you’re the one holding the apple.”
“I didn't love you the day I met you, or even a month later. But somewhere between hello and the goodbye I'm unable to bear”
“Don’t leave. I want you to be with me.”
“You’ll have your family.”
I swallow before I say the words that will change this relationship forever. “You’re the one I need.”
“But that would mean meeting your family.”
It does, and I’m okay with that if it means she’s by my side. “I don’t care. I need you to be with me.”
She smiles and cradles my face with her hands. “Of course. I’ll come if it’s what you want, but this is going to change everything.”
“I know, but it’s what I want.”
“I’m sorry for all the secrecy, for making you feel like you weren’t important enough to know the real me. But I’m most sorry because I have fucked you – I don’t know how many times – and never made love to you.”
“I love her too much to let her leave and I need to tell her right this minute.”
“She has bewitched me. And I want her. She’s the one.”
“Are you missing your filter, or is it an Aussie thing to blurt out every inappropriate thought you have?”
“Let me get straight on this. You don’t want to be the girl to wear out your welcome, but you’ll be the girl who lets him wear out your vagina?”
She slaps my arm in the dark. “That’s just crude, Laurie.” She giggles. “But oh so true. He did wear it out like a champ.”
“We’ve shared countless kisses. They were almost always heated and demanding, but this one is entirely different. It tells me things he can’t or won’t say because it goes against everything he intends for our relationship.”
“That’s who I am to you from now on. No more Lachlan. No more pretending”
“His mouth is so close to mine, I feel his warm breath on my lips. “Right now, all I’m thinking about is how I’m going to get you in my bed so I can show you all the ways I can make you come.”
Umm … yes, please and thank you.”
“Liar, liar. My pants are so on fire. And so is the rest of me.”
“If I do this, something will go wrong and this man will hurt me. I know it as sure as I’m sitting here next to him feeling how much he makes me want to say yes.”
“I've known pain my whole life, but this is a new kind for me. It isn't born of something wrong or ugly. This pain is conceived out of beauty— my love for Jack Henry McLachlan. I embrace it. I clutch it as tightly as I can with both fists because I never want to forget the love I have for him. Loving him will forever be my Beauty from Pain.”
“Oh, fuck me running! Or on the edge of your bed using your mouth.”
“I’m not pretending this is anything more than a short-term relationship, but I like being with you even when there’s no sex involved. That means you’re not a booty call.”
“There is evil fuckery afoot here.”
“My lasagne has been known to bring me to the knees."
"Baby, it doesn’t take food for you to bring me to my knees.”
“Our precious time together feels like a candle with wicks burning at both ends. Once the flame meets in the middle, we're over.”
“I want to tell her how her heart belongs to someone she's yet to meet and she'll be loved and adored by one bloody lucky man someday. She'll have his babies just like she told me she wanted to do and he'll love her in a way like she's never known. But I can't tell her these things. And I don't know why.”
“Knowing how little she cares about the money I could spend, makes me want to buy her the world.”
“Mmm … I love me some him.”
“It's almost more than I can stand because I want to be the one to wipe away her tears, not the one to cause them.”
“When the three months is over, so are we. I'll move on and you will too. Because you won't know my name or any identifying information about me, you'll have no way to contact me. Ever.”
“People can numb themselves, get used to anything.”
“Hey, all the cool kids are sleeping with stuffed animals these days.”
“But, unlike us, Ozzy had a restraint, a limit, a conscience, a brake. And that restraint came in the form of a homely, rotund little British woman whose very name sets lips trembling and knees knocking: Sharon Osbourne, a shitkicker and disciplinarian like no other we had ever met, a woman whose presence could in an instant send us reeling back to our childhood fear of authority.”
“(...) shibumi has to do with great refinement underlying commonplace appearances. It is a statement so correct that it does not have to be bold, so poignant it does not have to be pretty, so true it does not have to be real. Shibumi is understanding, rather than knowledge. Eloquent silence. In demeanor, it is modesty without pudency. In art, where the spirit of shibumi takes the form of sabi, it is elegant simplicity, articulate brevity. In philosophy, where shibumi emerges as wabi, it is spiritual tranquility that is not passive; it is being without the angst of becoming. And in the personality of a man, it is . . . how does one say it? Authority without domination? Something like that.”
Nicholai’s imagination was galvanized by the concept of shibumi. No other ideal had ever touched him so. “How does one achieve this shibumi, sir?”
“One does not achieve it, one . . . discovers it. And only a few men of infinite refinement ever do that. Men like my friend Otake-san.”
“Meaning that one must learn a great deal to arrive at shibumi?”
“Meaning, rather, that one must pass through knowledge and arrive at simplicity.”
“You could have fucked me ’til your uncut, overexposed on the blogs, ‘too ginormous for my snatch’ pecker fell off. And I’d still no way never ever in a thousand years sell, loan, sample you my Easton. And to answer your question, I run my company with my pussy, and twenty-four other pussy-sporting employees. Easton girls do not allow dickheads or cocks in our fashion world. Period.”
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