Alexa Quotes

For all the girls with curves... May you love them, may you rock them, and may you find the lucky bastard that appreciates them.

Alexa and the other guests, and perhaps even Georgina, all understood the fleeing from war, from the kind of poverty that crushed human souls, but they would not understand the need to escape from the oppressive lethargy of choicelessness. They would not understand why people like him who were raised well fed and watered but mired in dissatisfaction, conditioned from birth to look towards somewhere else, eternally convinced that real lives happened in that somewhere else, were now resolved to do dangerous things, illegal things, so as to leave, none of them starving, or raped, or from burned villages, but merely hungry for for choice and certainty.

He surged upward and paused at her entrance. “Look at me, Alexa.” Half drugged, she opened her eyes and gazed at the man she loved with every part of her being, waiting for him to claim her, waiting to take anything he could give. “It’s always been you.” He paused as if to be sure she heard and understood the words. Intensity gleamed within amber depths. He gripped her fingers, as if trying to speak beyond words. “And it will always be you.

Hubby, At the pool. If I don’t return by nightfall, it’s your marital duty to rescue me. If it goes that late, this means I’ve passed out on a lounge chair in Vegas in summer so my advice is to stock up on aloe vera before you launch the rescue effort. Lexie Walker stared at the note thinking that Alexa Berry… Strike that. Alexa Walker was fucking funny.

Boys say they don't mind how you get your hair done. But then they leave you for someone with really great standard girl hair and the next thing you know you're alone with a masculine crop crying into your granola.

Not everything happens for a reason. Sometimes life just sucks.

I love you, Alexa. I want you and I want our baby. I want this ridiculous hound dog because I've grown to love him, too. I also figured out what I don't want. I don't want to live my life without you. I don't want to be alone anymore. And I don't want to believe I deserve not to have you. And I swear to God, I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you. - Nicholas Ryan

Seattle? With Caine? In a hotel? I’d either kill him or screw him again. “Fuck.” “Alexa, the speakerphone is on,” Caine’s amused voice sounded from my desk. Oh, balls.

Oh, my God. Did I force myself on him? Wait, under him. Can you force yourself under someone?

The problem with heartbreak is that nobody can help you when you're heartbroken. Nobody and nothing. Not the films you watch alone desperately searching for a character who feels the way you do, not the glasses or bottles of whisky you keep by your bed and certainly not Instagram.

A Searcher, a Wolf Son and a Warrior,” she announced. I suppressed a laugh. I almost expected her to say “walked into a bar.

Did you feed the fish?” Nick closed his eyes. “Alexa, I’m working.” She made a rude snort. “So am I. But at least I worry about poor Otto. Did you feed him?” “Otto?” “You kept calling him Fish. That hurt his feelings.” “Fish don’t have feelings. And yes, I fed him.” “Fish certainly do have feelings. And while we’re discussing Otto, I wanted to tell you I’m worried about him. He’s placed in the study and no one ever goes in there. Why don’t we move him into the living room where he can see us more often?

I’m a pretty possessive kind of guy. Especially when it comes to things I like.

Alexa looked down into her coffee again, gazing into the dark brown liquid like it was Dumbledore’s Pensieve

Besides....... who wants a boy? The only boys in our books are the little baby ones the man hero puts inside the heroine.

If God had called me up to heaven, and told me that I was allowed to build a man to belong to me, I would have built myself a Kayden.

Earth," Alexa finally said. "It's not that great anyway." And they all smiled sadly. Because, of course, it was everything.

If stalking you is thinking about you every night while I stroke my cock and cumming with the sweet name ‘Josephine’ on my lips, then yeah, I’ve been stalking. I’ve been stalking the fuck out of you since I moved back here.

He took one look at me and knew I would be his best friend, his partner, his wife, and the mother of his children. He saw more in me in one glance than I’d seen in myself my whole life.

She wears a shirt that fits tight to her tits and reads: I never received my acceptance letter from Hogwarts, so I'm leaving the Shire to become a Jedi!

I’m gonna kiss you, Lily Parker. Because you’re the sweetest and most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and if I don’t I might die. But once I do, you’re gonna belong to me.

I know I’ve loved you since I took my first breath on this earth. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life, and I will love you even after this world takes me.

Your body is mine. Nobody sees it but me. Nobody touches it but me.

Beauty without the beloved is a like a sword through the heart.

Brody, are you sick?" asked Piper. "Yeah, do you have a fever?" Lucy asked, tugging on my shirt. I bent down to her level as she felt my forehead. "Nope, not sick. Why?" They looked at each other and shrugged. "Mom was on the phone with Auntie Alexa and she said you were hot. If you're hot, you have a fever. Do you need medicine?

Fuck having blue balls, I’m going to have a fucking blue body.

I’ve never ridden bareback, but with her, it’s the only way we’ll ever be. I don’t care how many times I get her pregnant, I want nothing between us.

She gave me the most devilish smile and I couldn’t help but smile back. We both knew she owned me. Body, heart and soul. And every little thing in between.

Nobody goes through life without having their heart broken and one day you'll wake up and it will be okay.

There are a few people standing close to me, mostly sweet butts and boot chasers, but I don’t fuck with either. I am, after all, still a married man, not that I would even if I wasn't. If I couldn't have her, I wouldn't have anybody.

It's not everyday you find the crazy that fits yours, so when you do, tie it to the bed and take it. That's the only sane thing to do.

Alexa looked down into her coffee again, gazing into the dark brown liquid like it was Dumbledore’s Pensieve.

I’m coming for you, Skye! Ain’t nobody gonna violate your rights as a Gay Homosexual American on my watch!

In the end, we all die. This is not of question. Inarguable. No mystery lay here. The mystery dwells in two questions: How long will our story be, and of what will the pages read?

He looked at me for a moment longer, with unbearable longing. I love you, Alexa. No matter what happens tomorrow, or any day after that, I will always love you. My eyes burned. I love you, too, Rylan. But it's not enough, he said. I was too late.

Goddamn, she better be single, because I’ve never seen the woman and I want to marry her. She got my cock hard with a box of cookies. I can’t begin to imagine the possibilities.

Friendship isn't measured in days, months or years, it's measured in the way someone makes you feel.

Sometimes the loneliest you could be was surrounded by people who didn't understand you.

And if she doesn’t want me, I’ll want her enough for the both of us. If she doesn’t love me, I’ll just love her twice as hard.

The problem with being an adult is absolutely everything.

You don't understand. You're mine. Mine. No one touches you. No one hurts you. No one scares you. No one. Not ever.

What, did I just step into the twilight zone?

Nana, did you really try to run down some antigay protesters?” Dante asked. “Of course not! I’m not homicidal. I may, however, have encouraged them to shut the fuck up,” she said.

I look at her pink glossy lips and I know if I kissed her, she would leave sparkles all over my face. “Pixie dust,” I whisper and she cocks her head to the side.

She waited as he perused the room, skated over her, stopped, then came slowly back. Their eyes met. Alexa hated clichés, and what she hated most was becoming one. But at that moment, her heartbeat thundered, her palms sweated, and her belly dipped and plunged as if on a rollercoaster ride. Her body went on full alert, begging him to come to her, promising him surrender. If he told her to go home, get in bed, and wait for him, Alexa was sure she’d follow his instructions.

Life is about being true to yourself and finding the love you deserve. It’s too short to do it any other way.

I have googled 'how long does heartbreak last?' The result more popular than that was 'how long does heartburn last?' This implies people suffer from heartburn more than they do heartbreak which is a good thing because heartbreak sucks way fucking more than acid reflux ever could.

They both make growling sounds and gnash their teeth as they wrestle. I don’t know what to do, so I just stand there like an idiot, holding a basket of cock cookies watching two dudes fight it out.

I have loved you from the moment I heard your voice. Thank you for coming here, and being my Christmas miracle.

Who needs mail? If it doesn´t come in an Amazon box, I´m not interested.

Stop living in your head, and take what you want.

This book is for those that found love when everyone thought they were too young to know what it was. We should all be lucky enough to find our forever so soon.

Dedication page: For fairytales… they are alive and real in your heart. And maybe your lady business.

I’m not a poet. But my wife is. She taught me to look for the extraordinary in the simplicity. She taught me about emotion, and truth, and second chances. You see, I never realized a person can keep giving everything with no thought to take. Alexa, you changed my life, but I was too afraid to reach for it. I believed I wasn’t good enough. Now I realize the truth.

DJing for people is fun until someone comes up with a phone screen that has 'PLAY SOME RIHANNA' written on it. I prefer to play older songs because they're the ones I personally enjoy dancing and singing along to and modern dance music bores my brains out.

You’re a big old brute, you know that, Cash? You can’t just manhandle something when it doesn’t do what you want,” Clare huffs out, and crosses her arms over her chest. “When it’s mine, I do.

I’ll make you so fucking happy, Noelle. I know you’re perfect for me. I’ve listened to you talk for hours on end. You’re it for me. I know it to my core, and I’ll spend every day showing you that I’m it for you. That we belong together.

Maybe I should punch myself in the face and see if you scream.

I lay on your bed, and smelled your pillow,” I say, and rush to tell her the rest. “I may have also had a beer, touched your underwear, smelled your shampoo, and used some of your lotion. Look, don’t judge, I just wanted to get as close to you as I could.

Alexa realized she’d always confessed everything to Maggie except for one event. The first time Nick kissed her. She’d known she loved him back then. Friendship turned to rivalry and then to a girlish crush. That first kiss twisted emotions so pure within her she believed it was love. Her heart beat for him, full of joy at the possibility of them being together, so she uttered the words, her voice echoing through the trees. “I love you.

Sometimes we focus too much on the lyrics that we forget to dance to the music. And sometimes we dance to the music and don't listen to the lyrics. Let the rhythm guide you. Let the lyrics inspire you.

Funny how she’s the one tied to the bed, but I’m the one feeling bound.

After killing Harley Kayson, my vampire lover’s sire, and taking over the club, I’d been forced to look around and accept the cold hard fact that I ran a whorehouse for vampires. There was no way to sugar-coat it. Just call me, “Madam.

puts her little finger in my face. “I don’t speak Behemoth, so I’ll talk slow. You should learn some manners before the villagers chase you with fiery torches. You shouldn’t go around putting your hands on people, no matter how hot you are.

She looks so comfortable in my space. Like she belongs here. I feel my chest warm, and I almost want to laugh. I’ve caught a fairy. “What’s with that smirk?” she asks and crosses her legs. “Just wondering if this is what Peter Pan felt like,” I mumble.

knew he was the silent broody type, but I didn’t think he bit. Now I’m not so sure. He could rip my heart to shreds with a few harsh words. Maybe this is why I spend so much time with my head in the clouds and my nose in books, dreaming in my own little world. This real-life romance shit is hard and scary.

I’d already tasted her, and nothing would have stopped me from seeing her virgin blood coat my cock as I pumped in and out of her, filled her with my cum until it dripped down her ass and covered my sheets—sheets I stripped from my bed afterwards and kept.

She knew with chilling and absolute certainty she was next.

I stepped out of the circle of his arms with reluctance and patted him on his butt. “That’ll do, donkey,” I said, in my best Scottish accent.

I will be better tomorrow than I was yesterday, for I have learned something today.

Nothing is wrong with me. I’m just a homebody. I haven’t found a person who wants to be a homebody with me yet.

wink at her and she elbows me. It’s playful and fun, and I can’t remember the last time someone made me feel special. I’m warm and gooey inside, and I feel like one of those cartoons with the heart eyes. God, I must look like a fool following her around like a puppy dog. But I’d rather be her puppy than nothing at all. If

Everyone had grown used to giving orders to the pleasant-voiced feminine robots. Alexa, Siri, Sophia, Sage, do this for me. A perky ‘okay’, and your wish was her command. They’d all been doing it for years before women started realising the men in their lives had been conditioned to do the same to them. And by then it was too late.

Where will this all end up? Will we completely lose our ability to be private, respectful, subtle? Will romance die? Often I long for a simpler time when break ups weren't made a trillion times worse by photo tagging, and rather than spelling it out for people you could be irritated by something and not feel as though you had to voice your gripe with convenient hashtags such as #dogaccidents, #cake and #snow in case it becomes a trending topic.

There is no feeling that is comparable to that of being truly lost. I don’t mean lost in the woods, or desert, but lost in the way that only can happen internally. Lost to the deepest, blackest pit of your soul, clinging to ghosts of past times, when you thought you knew who and what you were. When this happens, you have two choices; you can give in to your darkest inclinations, and accept what you are, or you can fight, knowing that it is a losing battle, that the good half of your soul is strong, but can never erase the bad part.

My mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you since before any kiss.

It’s not every day you find the crazy that fits yours, so when you do, tie it to the bed and take it. That’s the only sane thing to do.

You ever think about running again, it better be in my motherfucking direction. I’m the one you run to when shit goes down

Next time, we go slowly. I want to explore every delicious inch of you.

It was starting to feel like a hair pulling, bitch slapping kind of fight. I needed to take it to the next level.

It was starting to feel like a hair pulling, bitch slapping kind of fight.

There’s no going back. I’ll just fling myself over the cliff and I pray he’s going to catch me

Every time you post a picture of yourself to Instagram looking fake happy a fairy dies. (p. 128).

He reached out and gripped her upper arms. His fingers closed around something silky and he shook her slightly. “Unreasonable? Unreasonable? It’s the middle of the night and I’m standing in a room full of dogs, talking about a stupid movie!” “It’s not stupid. Why couldn’t you be more like Ralph Kramden from the Honeymooners? Sure, he was loud and obnoxious, but he saved the whole shelter of dogs when he found out they would be destroyed. Why can’t you be more human?” “The friggin Honeymooners, now? That’s it, I’ve had enough. You are going to pack up every one of those dogs and take them back to the shelter right now, or God help me, Alexa, I’ll get rid of them myself!” “I won’t do it.” “You will.” “Make me.” “Make you? Make you?” His fingers twisted around a wad of silky, satiny fabric as he fought for a shred of control. When the haze finally cleared his vision, Nick blinked and looked down. Then realized his wife was naked. Her lime-green robe had slid down over her shoulders and now gaped open. Her sash slipped unnoticed to the floor. He expected to catch a glimpse of some lacy negligee made to incite a man’s lust. He got much more. Jesus, she was perfect.

I’m a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man, but when he looks at me like that I’m a damsel stuck in a tower and the only escape is on his dick.

Lies by omission are still lies.

When you love someone, their struggles become yours, and their hurt is your hurt.

He leans up, and I kiss him, smiling against his lips. This is definitely better than bacon.

I love you, Mackenzie. This may be crazy, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m obsessed with you, and I can’t shake it.

She’s mad you pushed her away for so long. You were not a worthy friend, so she thinks you won’t be a worthy mate.

Did you skip your medication or something?

so you know how serious I am. I’ll never leave you again unless I’m six feet fucking under. You got me?

Lily, if you left this earth and left me behind, I’d be miserable. I probably wouldn't want to live. But you know what? If you left me with our baby girl, I’d spend my whole life raising her the best I could. Making sure I did right by her and by you. Making sure that everything I did would make you happy and proud of me. You’d leave this earth knowing that I would give our children everything. You would have no doubt about that. Not doing that, not taking care of the babies we made together, would mean that I didn’t love you, that you didn’t mean the world to me. Because if something means that much to you, then it means that much to me. If I were him, I’d grab hold of anything that reminded me of the woman I loved.

When I was thirteen I spent a lot of time pretending to like dance music because everyone at my school seemed to love it. If only I'd known it was OK to have different tastes to others and that one day my mind would be blown open by an older man who would introduce me to The Smiths, The Cure, Buzzcocks, Talking Heads and almost every other band I adore to this day. I also wish I'd been reassured that one day, yes, a boy would actually fancy me in spite and potentially, deliberately, FOR my zero boob/skinny legs combo. But mainly I wish I'd listened to my mother when she said learning to play the piano might come in handy in the future and would actually be something I would thank her for forcing me to do. Every Wednesday we would drive to Mrs Batten's house listening to The ArchersI, with me in the passenger seat trying desperately to think up excuses for why I hadn't practiced that week. Though it seemed very unlikely at the time, I am thankful for those piano lessons every time I manage to impress a boy by hammering out some Chopin when drunk (swot up, kids!).

Whoever is born on a day I forget to send a message to Antony will die a beggar. Bring ink and paper, Charmian. Welcome, my good Alexas. Charmian, did I ever love Caesar as much as this? Oh, that splendid Caesar! May you choke on any other sentiments like that! Say, “That splendid Antony.” The courageous Caesar! By Isis, I’ll give you bloody teeth if you ever compare Caesar with Antony, my best man among men.

Mr Bott sits down and gestures gracefully to the board. "As you are clearly both fascinated by this text, would you like to explain the significance of Laertes in Hamlet?" He looks at Alexa. "Please go first, Miss Roberts." "Well..." Alexa says hesitantly. "He's Ophelia's brother, right?" "I didn't ask for his family tree, Alexa. I want to know his literary significance as a fictional character." Alexa looks uncomfortable. "Well then, his literary significance is in being Ophelia's brother, isn't it? So she has someone to hang out with." "How very kind of Shakespeare to give fictional Ophelia a fictional playmate so that she doesn't get fictionally bored. Your analytical skills astound me, Alexa. Perhaps I should send you to Set Seven with Mrs White and you can spend the rest of the lesson studying Thomas the Tank Engine. I believe he has lots of buddies too.

She's not mine, you sick fuck. She's not some piece of fucking property you only respect because she belongs to another man. You respect her because she's a fucking woman who deserves to take a train home without being harassed by assholes like you.

She's the places that she has a desire to visit. She's the pieces of quotes that are splattered in ink in her favourite books. She's the road trips she hopes to go on. She's the beautiful characters that mesmerised her in her favourite books. She's full of dreams, and I hope they one day come true.

I’m tired of chasing affection. I’m worth more than that. I may be young, but I know what I want. I want someone who’s willing to give up everything for me. And I deserve someone who’s proud to be with me instead of being ashamed of their feelings.” “I’m not going to be the lost puppy chasing someone around and begging for attention. I’m going to take some time and figure out what I want to do next, but until I know my next move, I’m done being a burden.” “Sophie—” “It’s not your fault, Bruce. It’s been like this my whole life. I’m just tired of being a second choice.

Intuitively, she sensed Leonardo’s gaze on her, and she caught sight of him near the entrance to the balcony. He was watching her, though he should have been engrossed in the conversation with the two other people with whom he was standing, one of which was the redhead. Even from that distance across the room, she could sense his desire for her, and there was an answering pounding of the blood in her veins as their gazes locked. Maybe it was the kiss between Russell and Joan and the romantic notion of long-lasting love, but Alexa found her thoughts straying to memories of sharing passionate kisses with Leonardo. She carefully placed her glass of wine on the table before it slipped from her damp fingers and crashed onto the expensive white carpet. She felt nervous and jittery because she knew the reason for Leonardo’s smoldering scrutiny. She was fully aware of what was expected of her, and she found herself breathlessly anticipating the end of the evening.