“Hi," I return, gesturing to the fish. "Nice catch."
"Yeah. I'm kind of impressed with myself. I always thought redheads were sexy."
"Ha-ha. I meant the fish."
"Ah. Yes.”
― Sophie Jordan, quote from Hidden
“Then again, there’s nothing simple about Will. I think back to what he can do—bend earth, resist shading, his immense strength—and it’s glaringly inaccurate to consider him a human. But then I can’t think of him as a draki either. And this strikes me as sad. Will doesn’t belong anywhere. Not among humans. Not among draki.
But he belongs with me. The conviction is still there, as senseless and dangerous as always, seeping into my bones, my heart. A fact I wouldn’t change even if I could.”
― Sophie Jordan, quote from Hidden
“Before I sought truth. Now I seek justice.”
― Sophie Jordan, quote from Hidden
“Me di cuenta de que junto a él, yo era lo más fuerte y lo más débil que podía ser. Y pensé que eso es el amor: cuando te expones en toda tu vulnerabilidad.”
― Sophie Jordan, quote from Hidden
“- Ahora podrás mirarte la mano en cualquier momento, incluso cuando yo no esté y lo sabrás.
- ¿Sabré qué?
- Que mi corazón es tuyo, que te amo.”
― Sophie Jordan, quote from Hidden
“Te quiero, Jacinda, con todo mi ser y con todo mi aliento.”
― Sophie Jordan, quote from Hidden
“Why does that obstinate little voice in our heads torment us so? Could it be because it reminds us that we are alive, of our mortality, of our individual souls – which, after all, we are too afraid to surrender but yet make us feel more miserable than any other thing? It is a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with one’s burned tongues and skinned knees, that one’s aches and pains are all one’s own. Even more terrible, as we grow older, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us. Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that’s why we’re so anxious to lose them, don’t you think?”
― Donna Tartt, quote from The Secret History
“Isabelle snorted. 'All the boys are gay. In this truck, anyway. Well, not you, Simon.'
'You noticed' said Simon.
'I think of myself as a freewheeling bisexual,' added Magnus.
'Please never say those words in front of my parents,' said Alec. 'Especially my father.'
'I thought your parents were okay with you, you know, coming out,' Simon said, leaning around Isabelle to look at Alec, who was — as he often was — scowling, and pushing his floppy dark hair out of his eyes. Aside from the occasional exchange, Simon had never talked to Alec much. He wasn’t an easy person to get to know. But, Simon admitted to himself, his own recent estrangement from his mother made him more curious about Alec’s answer than he would have been otherwise.
'My mother seems to have accepted it,' Alec said. 'But my father — no, not really. Once he asked me what I thought had turned me gay.'
Simon felt Isabelle tense next to him. 'Turned you gay?' She sounded incredulous. 'Alec, you didn’t tell me that.'
'I hope you told him you were bitten by a gay spider,' said Simon.
Magnus snorted; Isabelle looked confused. 'I’ve read Magnus’s stash of comics,' said Alec, 'so I actually know what you’re talking about' A small smile played around his mouth. 'So would that give me the proportional gayness of a spider?'
'Only if it was a really gay spider,' said Magnus, and he yelled as Alec punched him in the arm. 'Ow, okay, never mind.”
― Cassandra Clare, quote from City of Lost Souls
“But even her demons she invested with inordinate beauty, consecrated them with the dignity of her attention.”
― Pat Conroy, quote from The Prince of Tides
“I want you always to remember me. Will you remember that I existed, and that I stood next to you here like this?”
― Haruki Murakami, quote from Norwegian Wood
“No. No!” he says.
“I . . .” He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I don’t know.
“You can’t go. Ana, I love you!”
“I love you, too, Christian, it’s just—”
“No . . . no!” he says in desperation and puts both hands on his head. “Christian . . .”
“No,” he breathes, his eyes wide with panic, and suddenly he drops to his knees in front of me, head bowed, long-fingered hands spread out on his thighs. He takes a deep breath and doesn’t move. What?
“Christian, what are you doing?”
He continues to stare down, not looking at me.
“Christian! What are you doing?”
My voice is high-pitched. He doesn’t move.
“Christian, look at me!” I command in panic. His head sweeps up without hesitation, and he regards me passively with his cool gray gaze—he’s almost serene . . . expectant.
Holy Fuck . . . Christian. The submissive.”
― E.L. James, quote from Fifty Shades Darker
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