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W Quotes

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All W Quotes

“When she leaned forward to mess with the AC vents, her hair brushed against my leg and it was really soft. It made remember all over again. It made it hard to stay pissed and keep her at arm's length the way I'd planned. It was pretty near damn impossible. When I was near her, I just wanted to grab her and hold her and kiss the shit out of her. Maybe then she'd forget about my asshole of a brother.”

“When she left for a third time and returned with a giant box, I started to get irate. "What is this?" I demanded, taking it from her. It felt like it had bricks in it. "Grandmother needs you to carry some things," Paul told me. "Yes," I said through gritted teeth. "I sort of figured that out fifty pounds ago.”

“When she lifted her head to meet his gaze, his eyes were closed, lashes like inky brushstrokes on his cheeks. His palms came up to cup the sides of her neck, and with a shaky sigh, he rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll let you go, Billie.” His words poured against her lips, husky, raw. “I always keep my end of a deal. In exchange, you’ll come to Avalon as a client. Tomorrow. This week. Walk through those doors and send for me. I’ll be whatever you want. I’ll take you up to my room and turn you inside out. I’ll taste and touch and fuck you until you scream. And if you want control, it’s yours. A favor for a favor.” She clung to him to keep from collapsing, torn between tears and wild, wayward laughter. The scenario was unreal. And the only argument she could think of was a frail one, easily shot down. “Azure would never allow—” “It’s as good as done. I’ll put you in the book myself. Maria will call you with the date, and I’ll keep my distance from you until then.” His lips brushed her ear. “Please, Billie. Let’s end this before it kills us both. Say yes.” The truth wrapped itself around her. You’re hopelessly in love with this man, aren’t you, Billie Cort? “Yes,” Billie said, squeezing her eyes closed. “God, yes.”

“When she looked at herself in her wedding photographs, Ammu felt the woman that looked back at her was someone else. A foolish jewelled bride. Her silk sunset-coloured sari shot with gold. Rings on every finger. White dots of sandalwood paste over her arched eye-brows. Looking at herself like this, Ammu's soft mouth would twist into a small, bitter smile at the memory - not of the wedding itself so much as the fact that she had permitted herself to be so painstakingly decorated before being led to the gallows. It seemed so absurd. So futile. Like polishing firewood.”

“When she notices my silence she goes quiet and sighs. I guess she, too, gets fed up with the weight of incomprehension. I guess that on top of seeming like a sister who is detached, dejected and discourteous, I also come off as an arrogant person. Kinship isn't enough for her, either, of course it isn't. In cases like ours, getting along isn't a question of magic or chemistry or affinity, but of tenacity, toughness and torturous toiling.”

“When she opened her eyes, Hudson was standing next to the chaise, staring at her. “Hey, you,” Morgan said, placing her hand on the side of his face with a sad smile. He looked up at her with a concerned expression, his ears plastered against his head and his tongue lizarding out of his mouth. He shifted his weight, then gently hopped up so his front paws were on the chaise next to her. Before she realized what he was doing, Hudson leaned closer to gently lick her cheek, exactly where the tear had rolled down. “Oh my God,” Morgan whispered as it dawned on her. “You’re worried about me?” Hudson continued licking her cheek no matter how she moved her face away from him. It was like he needed to distract her and wipe away any tangible traces of her sadness. “Hud, I’m okay. I’m okay,” she lied as new tears of recognition welled in her eyes. Oh my God. Hudson is a comfort dog. Their family dog, Betty, had been one, so keyed in to offering support to the humans in her house that she could practically smell tears from a room away. Betty had been particularly helpful during Morgan’s angsty teen years, seeking her out when she was feeling depressed. After realizing that Hudson meant business and wasn’t going to stop his comfort rituals, Morgan surrendered to him. She pulled him up onto the lounge, and he leaned his body against hers like a weighted blanket.”

“When she opened her eyes, she was both in her body and watching it, nowhere near the cavity of the tree. The Blue that was before her stood inches from a boy in an Aglionby sweater. There was a slight stoop to his posture, and his shoulders were spattered darkly with rain. It was his fingers that Blue felt on her face. He touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Tears coursed down the other Blue's face. Though some strange magic, Blue could feel them on her face as well. She could feel, too, sick, rising misery she'd felt in the churchyard, the grief that felt bigger than her. The other Blue's tears seemed endless. One drop slid after another, each following an identical path down her cheeks. The boy in the Aglionby sweater leaned his forehead against Blue's. She felt the pressure of his skin against hers, and suddenly she could smell mint. It'll be okay. Gansey told the other Blue. She could tell that he was afraid. It'll be okay. Impossibly, Blue realized that this other Blue was crying because she loved Gansey. And that the reason Gansey touched her like that, his fingers so careful with her, was because he knew that her kiss could kill him. She could feel how badly the other Blue wanted to kiss him, even as she dreaded it. Though she couldn't understand why, her real, present day memories in the tree cavity were clouded with other false memories of their lips nearly touching, a life this other Blue had already lived. Okay, I'm ready- Gansey's voice caught, just a little. Blue, kiss me.”

“When she opened her eyes they were confronted by a musical box against the opposite wall - one of those early Bavarian toys where mechanical figures perform to the tune. 'How odd,' she thought. The little stage showed a group of fiddlers, two couples in costumes like those of the ball she had just quitted, and in a doorway at the side, a gypsy or beggar man. Very faintly the distant waltz came to her ears, but no footsteps ringing in the abandoned halls. With her hand pressed to her unsteady heart, acting under a sudden compulsion, she pushed down the lever. Delicate plucked music started up; the fiddlers sawed with their clumsy arms in time to an ethereal waltz. The couples moved jerkily out and each raised an arm to clasp its partner. To various clicks and rumbles from under the floor they began to revolve with each other and to orbit round the room. Their movements were sinister because of being both reluctant and predestined. Here they were and this is was what they must do. ("Many Coloured Glass")”

“When she reached him, she put her hands on the bars and looked at him through them, her dark eyes wide. "It is you! Frasier said you were coming back, but he didn't know exactly when. It's been forever since you've answered a text. I was getting worried." Her presence blew over him like a fresh breeze. He found himself smiling at her, a little goofily. He must still be travel-drunk. "It was an intense road trip.”

“When she reached out to the little girl in her, nothing erupted but the dense muteness of her own children in her belly. She felt helpless, alienated from her mirror-image, perceiving her body as a shallow vessel, possessed by human beings that she never met, draining her energy and suppressing her proper self, which she considered absent again.”

“When she relayed patients’ stories, she did so with a radical compassion, as if she’d been fitted with a spiritual X-ray machine and saw the intricate details of things that others failed to—an intuition so finely tuned to people’s inner worlds that it was almost prophetic. Often finding herself a habitué of Liz’s sacred scanner, Naomi considered her kind friend’s presence in her life both a blessing and a curse: because she always knew without a word being spoken, and because she always knew without a word being spoken.”

“When she said "im okay/fine", its mean shes not. When she said "i want to be a lone for a while", let her do it. When she cant talk about something she feel, dont push her but hug her and understand her. When she said" i can do it by myself", let her do it. Whatever she do, you still stay close to her, protect her but dont to much. she need a space.Give all of your heart and soul to her.Dont ever leave and hurt her. and Love her so much”