“Everything has beauty. Even the ugly. Because without the ugly, there would be no beauty. Because without beauty, we would not survive our pain, our sorrow and our suffering.”
“Love is a feeling, a real, raw, and unscripted emotion so sensationally pure, unable to dull even under the strain of a world against it, strong enough to heal the broken and warm even the coldest of hearts.
And sometimes, love is unconventional and it breaks all the rules and blurs all the lines and basks in its glory, shining as bright as the sun, unapologetically glowing even under the narrowed stares of society and its screaming, self-righteous morals, berating and judging that which it doesn’t understand.”
“If your old man caps me, you better be front and center at my fuckin’ funeral, cryin’ your goddamn eyes out.”
“He looked down at his flaccid cock. "Congratulations," he said. "You've just fucked yourself to death.”
“Life may not always go the way you'd planned, you may not have the perfect family, you may not be the most beautiful, but that doesn't mean you can't make the best of what you do have.”
“You’re my reason, Deuce … You always have been.”
“Jesus. Why couldn’t he have had boys? All boys. Little fucking shits like Cage. A whole slew of ‘em he could throw condoms at and be done with it.”
“Baby,” he said, “listen to me. I ain’t beautiful, you are. You’re so damn beautiful you got it spillin’ out all over the place, blindin’ you into thinkin’ I’m beautiful when I ain’t. Farthest thing from it.”
“Motherfuck,” Deuce muttered, staring after him. “Ten bucks says he fucked that mouthy little asshole. Motherfuckin’ little fuck can’t keep it in his pants for shit. Cocksucker would fuck a hole in the wall. Probably has.”
“Babe,” he whispered. “Can’t look at me like that and expect me to be keepin’ it reeled in.”
“Baby, don’t ever keep it reeled in,” she whispered back. “Not with me.”
“And sometimes, love is unconventional and it breaks all the rules and blurs all the lines and basks in its glory, shining as bright as the sun, unapologetically glowing even under the narrowed stares of society and its screaming, self-righteous morals, berating and judging that which it doesn't understand.”
“FUCK THIS SHIT.
Fuck the club and the code, and fuck brotherhood. He would give it all up for her. For his woman. Because she sure as shit was his, and he’d go to hell and back ten times over before he lost her forever.”
“Danny," Ripper whispered in my ear. "Three songs gone by and there's some old fuckin' bitch makin' statutory rape faces at me.”
“Ripper was my rainstorm, my skin-drenching frenzy, where you couldn’t tell right from left, where all you could feel was the phenomenon exploding throughout your body, feverishly burning through you even as it pleasurably cooled.”
“Perspective is a bitch when it slaps you in the face, after the fact”
“He knew Danny, she was a fucking chatterbox. She was always rambling on and on about music and clothes and some asshat named Chan-a-something Tater Tots.”
“Aw, fuck,” Ripper muttered. Crossing his arms over his chest, the guy leaned back against the doorjamb.
“Danny,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Shit just got real, baby.”
“Oh god, Anabeth,” Ellie muttered. “Your whole life is based around sex.” “So?” she shot back. “It’s better than having sex with fictional characters!” Ellie shot up out of my desk chair. “I do not have sex with fictional characters!” “Oh puh-lease, I’ve seen the books you read, all big muscley men and virginal women and steamy sex. Why else would you read that crap if not to get off?”
“Coulda fuckin’ told me, little sister,” he said quietly. “Would never let you go through all this shit by yourself.”
Grabbing my hand, he threaded his large fingers through mine and squeezed. “This is what big brothers are fuckin’ here for … To pick their little sisters up when they fall the fuck down.”
“I love you,” she cried softly. “No one else, baby, not like this, not the way I’ve always loved you.”
“How much do you love me?” he asked hoarsely …
“You already know,” she whimpered. “You’re everything to me, everything, you always have been, baby…”
“Maybe this is how his miserable life was going to end: death by pussy.
Which when he thought about it, it made sense. It was because of pussy that you came screaming into this world; might as well be pussy that took you out of it.”
“All scares tell a story beautiful girl....mine tell the story of how I found you.”
“No, he didn’t care about anything else in the world except for his woman, the sweetest kid he’d ever met, the smartest too, a kid who’d turned into the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. A woman who didn’t just love with her whole heart but with her body and soul. A woman who time and time again, brought him to his fucking knees, had him prayer to a god he didn’t believe in just so he could keep her by his side.
A woman whose motherfucking smile made the world and his life seem somewhat livable. Even worth it sometimes.”
“This wasn't love. It was hate. And love. That fine line had been destroyed. Mutilated.”
“Next time you call my kid a whore, I will end you, you fuckin’ feel me?”
“Who’s fuckin’ pussy-whipped now, asshat?” Cox laughed over his shoulder. “That would be you, bitch!”
“You did not just call me a bitch!” Mick roared, chasing him.
“Bitch! I fuckin’ did! Bitch!”
“The things this man made me feel just by speaking was unreal. At times I wanted to weep from the sheer sensation of never before experienced feelings that I knew had already wrecked me for any other man.”
“Eva,” he rasped, cupping the back of her head and forcing her to look at him. “Marry me, darlin’.”
“Darlin’, we live in a fuckin’ cesspool of shit and dirty-ass motherfuckers, but if you found somethin’ good and true, somethin’ that you can bank on bein’ there for you when everything else is fallin’ apart around you, whoever it is, I’m good with it.”
“I'm tryin' to figure out whether I'm gonna slap some sense into you or fuck the shit outta you.”
“I used to dream of medals and championships, but now I dream solely of a blue-eyed fighter who one day changed my life, when he put his lips on mine. . . ”
“The problem with learning the truth about things is that you lose the confidence that comes from being dumb.”
“I read about a John Shelby of Thackham, England, who in 1672 was thrown from his horse into a thicket where he found an iron pot containing more than five hundred gold coins. According to the treasure trove laws of England, all hidden or lost property belonged to the Crown. However, Shelby refused to give the gold to the king’s officers, and he was arrested, tried for treason, and beheaded. This was probably a favorite story of the IRS.”
“PROLOGUE MARCH 1162 THE ARCHBISHOP’S men fled into the shadows of the lower valley. Behind them, atop the winter pass, horses screamed, arrow-bit and cleaved. Men shouted, cried, and roared. The clash of steel rang as silvery as a chapel’s bells. But it was not God’s work being done here.”
“I'll tell you what: How about no more suicide attempts; no more walking off with strangers; no more trying to fight vampires with silly, human weapons--silver bullets only work on werewolves, Jocelyn--and no more holding Nachari's hand. And we'll be just fine.”
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