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Evan Quotes

Browse 34 quotes about Evan.

Evan Quotes

“I got it! I got it!” Heeb declared triumphantly. Evan stopped in the middle of his kitchenette to hear Heeb’s idea. “Sex in the Title.” “Yeah, that’s what you’ve been saying I need.” “No, that’s the title: ‘Sex in the Title.’” “You want me to call my novel ‘Sex in the Title?’” “Yeah. Isn’t it great?”

“The official recruiting process for their posse began. Because Carlos, Narc, and Trevor each had high SQs, Heeb and Evan reasoned that adding the three to their group would raise the average SQ of each group member (much the way that colleges recruit individuals with higher test scores to increase the average test scores of their matriculated students).”

“I felt sorry for her, baby, guilty and responsible. That's all it was. Once she started talking about you, I could have thrown her off the deck with no remorse. I know there are no words that can take away what you saw, just please say you understand. Liz is nothing to me, Evan, but you...you're everything.”

“How bad will it hurt?" I ask suddenly as Cain pulls the car onto the road to head back to my house. "How bad will what hurt?" "The spankings, the torture, all the ways you want to punish me." "I'm not a sadist, Evan. I don't get off on hurting women." "So it won't hurt?" "Oh, it will, but you'll love the way it hurts," he says, and as his words fall upon my ears in a harmony of exhilaration and foreboding, I think I'm beginning to understand.”

“Little girl," Cain begins, moving in close and speaking deliberately. "I know exactly what I want, but as long as you insist on continuing this charade, I will not claim you as mine again until you beg to hear those words from me." I stare at him, stunned at how the same cocksure attitude that floods my mind with contempt floods my body with excitement as he leans back, a satisfied smirk on his face. "I don't beg," I hiss. "Not yet," is all he says.”

“It doesn’t begin inside my head like I expected. Instead a delicious warmth spreads through my body, expanding from my heart outward, and my bones and muscles and skin dissolve in the warmth that spreads out from me, until the warmth overcomes the Earth and the boundaries of the universe. The warmth is everywhere and everything. My body and everything outside my body belongs to it. Then I feel him; he is in the warmth, too, and there’s no separation between us, no spot where I end and he begins, and I open up like a flower to the rain, achingly slow and dizzyingly fast, dissolving in the warmth, dissolving in him and there’s nothing to see, that’s just the convenient word he used because there is no word to describe him, he just is. And I open to him, a flower to the rain.”

“Instead, I thought about the word profile and what a weird double meaning it had. We say we’re looking at a person’s profile online, or say a newspaper is writing a profile on someone, and we assume it’s the whole them we’re seeing. But when a photographer takes a picture of a profile, you’re only seeing half the face. Like with Sparrow, whoever he was. It’s never the way you would remember seeing them. You never remember someone in profile. You remember them looking you in the eye, or talking to you. You remember an image that the subject could never see in a mirror, because you are the mirror. A profile, photographically, is perpendicular to the person you know.”