Bodyguard Quotes

Jace perched on the windowsill and looked down at him. "You really don't get this bodyguard thing, do you?" "I didn't even think you liked me all that much," said Simon. "Is this one of those keep-your-friends-close-and-your-enemies-closer things?" "I thought it was keep your friends close so you have someone to drive the car when you sneak over to your enemy's house a night and throw up in his mailbox." "I'm pretty sure that's not it

A small lie needs a bodyguard of bigger lies to protect it.

And I am your guardian, your bodyguard, sworn to protect and defend you. And you are making my job excruciatingly difficult.

ANGER IS FEAR’S BODYGUARD,

Nice' in a bodyguard is about as useful as the ability to regurgitate whole lobsters.

I need a bodyguard." Simon eyed him. "Have you been watching The Bodyguard? Because I am not going to fall in love with you and carry you around in my burly arms.

I'll be like your bodyguard or something. Me Tarzan. You Jane.

First rule of bodyguard detail: know where your 'body' is at all times.

Look, I'm the DD tonight, but I'm offering to be more than just your driver. I'll be your bodyguard, and your bartender, and most importantly, your friend. I promise to look out for you tonight, Wellsy.

I’m a professional bodyguard. (Leta) Yeah, right. (Aiden) Nope. All true. I know seventy-two ways to kill a man and sixty-nine of them look like an accident. (Leta)

What a lousy earth! He wondered how many people were destitute that same night even in his own prosperous country, how many homes were shanties, how many husbands were drunk and wives socked, and how many children were bullied, abused, or abandoned. How many families hungered for food they could not afford to buy? How many hearts were broken? How many suicides would take place that same night, how many people would go insane? How many cockroaches and landlords would triumph? How many winners were losers, successes failures, and rich men poor men? How many wise guys were stupid? How many happy endings were unhappy endings? How many honest men were liars, brave men cowards, loyal men traitors, how many sainted men were corrupt, how many people in positions of trust had sold their souls to bodyguards, how many had never had souls? How many straight-and-narrow paths were crooked paths? How many best families were worst families and how many good people were bad people? When you added them all up and then subtracted, you might be left with only the children, and perhaps with Albert Einstein and an old violinist or sculptor somewhere.

Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional.

I don't want to tell you how to be a prince, but shouldn't you have some bodyguards or something?" "Bodyguards? Who would want to harm a charming guy like me?

In wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies.

I think just because you can't keep something doesn't mean it wasn't worth it. Nothing lasts forever. What matters is what we take with us.

- I don't want to tell you how to be a prince, but shouldn't you have some bodyguards or something? - Bodyguards? Who would want to harm a charming guy like me?

Men. <...> They're idiots. It's like they all take a vow of stupidity or something.

I was having coffee with my bodyguard. I didn't expect to be hunting bad guys until later. Leather before sundown is tacky.

Always choose your bodyguard from another country, they find it harder to make alliance and betray you.

This was a nightmare scenario for any bodyguard: stuck in the middle of a transparent tube, several miles underwater, with a murdering band of fugitives at one end and an enthralled but still highly skilled police officer at the other.

My bodyguard was mowing the lawn in a pink bikini when the body fell from the sky.

I’m not his bodyguard,” said Isabelle. “I’m his girlfriend. Which gives me the right to kick your ass if you bother him. That’s how it works.

And then, at this stage, every dictator comes up with the notorious and typical demand: he asks the people for bodyguards to protect him, the people's champion.

Jane, who would you ship yourself with?” “Happiness,” Jane answers. “Is that the name of a bodyguard?!” someone shouts. “It’s a noun,” Beckett says with a what-the-fuck face.

You can't make people love you. But you can give the love you long for out to the world. You can be the love you wish you had. That's the way to be okay. Because giving love to other people is a way of giving it to yourself.

Rage colors her every movement. Rage that has nothing to do with her so-called bodyguards and everything to do with me and her and the confusion rolling around inside the both of us. This should be interesting

You can’t be in Bridge Four. We’re bodyguards for your own family. What are you going to do? Guard yourself?

You enjoy making my heart stop, don't you?" he whispered, and I felt him shaking with adrenaline or something else. Before I could form a reply, he released me and stepped back, a stoic bodyguard once more.

Control puberty?" snorted the bodyguard."If you manage that, you'll be the first.

I'm part of the package, kitten. Your bodyguard, babysitter and tattle-tale, all rolled into one." Flashing his teeth at me, he added, "Aren't you pleased?

I wondered if having faith in yourself was just deciding you could do it - whatever it was and then making yourself follow through.

You want me to level, here it is: I need you. I need you because I love you. Three months without you will be hell. But even if we weren’t together, I would still need you. You’re a good fighter, you’ve worked as a bodyguard, and you know magic. We may not have many magic users, but we don’t know if those packs do, and if they hit us with magic, we have no way to counter.” He spread his arms. “But I love you and I don’t want you to be hurt. I’m not going to ask you to come with me. That would be like stepping in front of a moving train and saying, ‘Hey, honey, come stand next to me.’” I hopped off the wall and stood next to him. “Anytime.” He just looked at me. “I’ve never killed a train before. It might be fun to try.” “Are you sure?” “One time I was dying in a cage inside a palace that was flying over a magic jungle. And some idiot went in there, chased the palace down, fought his way through hundreds of rakshasas, and rescued me.” “I remember,” he said. “That’s when I realized you loved me,” I said. “I was in the cage and I heard you roar.

Gabriel is my bodyguard, " I said stiffly. J.B. snorted. "He wants something to do with your body, but it ain't guarding that he's thinking about.

Well, except she didn’t tell me about the stealth RainWing bodyguards she put on me. That was pretty hilarious. Everyone should suddenly have the air turn into seven bright purple dragons yelling hysterically whenever she gets attacked.

It doesn't hurt to spend your life with people who see what's great about you - in a way that you maybe never would have on your own. The people we love to teach us who we are.

Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" "Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of were thickset and looked like bodyguards. "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelssly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.

Maybe love isn't a judgment you render - but a chance you take. Maybe it's something you choose to do over and over. For yourself and everyone else.

You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I'd feel better if I could guard your back." You're going to do that with a rifle from the closest hill, remember." Night vision and scope, fine, but I can't kill them all from a distance." You couldn't kill them all if you were johnny on the spot, either," I said. No but I'd feel better." Worried about me?" He shrugged. I'm your bodyguard. If you die under my protection, the other bodyguards will make fun of me." It took me a second to realize he was making a joke. Harley looked back at him with an almost surprised look. I don't think either of us heard humor from Edward much.

Hold fast," he called. "Tell me your names, and your stations." "I am the Lady Door," said Door. "I am Portico's daughter, of the House of the Arch." "I am Hunter. I am her bodyguard." "Richard Mayhew," said Richard. "Wet.

When he reached her, he touched a hand to her face. Smiled. "Important. That's one word. Everything. That's another. Loved," he said, adding the most important word of all. "God, Darcy, you are so loved.

Never mind that I totally knew more about fighting vampires than my peace-loving parents. Or that Logan's girlfriend, Isabeau, had given us two full-grown, trained Rottweilers to protect us, plus the Drakes sent their human bodyguards by a couple of times a night. I named them Van Helsing and Gandhi. The dogs, not the bodyguards." "Chapter 1 Lucy, page 15

And loving other people really does turn out, in the end, to be a genuine way of loving yourself.

Bryce shouldered the canvas bag, surveying the Viper Queen. “Nice outfit.” The serpentine shifter smiled, revealing bright white teeth—and canines that were slightly too elongated. And slightly too thin. “Nice bodyguard.” Bryce shrugged as those snake’s eyes dragged over every inch of Hunt. “Nothing going on upstairs, but everything happening where it counts.

Every chance you take is a choice. A choice to decide who you are.

this was business.

If I let you get killed, the other bodyguards will make fun of me.

Hey, bodyguard. You better get down to the gymnasium. This jumbo pixie guy is killing your sister." "Really?" said Butler, unconvinced. "Really. Juliet just does not seem to be herself. She can't put two moves together. It's pathetic, really. Everybody is betting against her." "I see," said Butler, straightening. Mulch held the door. "It's going to make things really interesting when you show up to help." Butler grinned. "I'm not coming to help. I just want to be there when she stops faking." "Ah," said Mulch, comprehension dawning on his face. "So I should switch my bet to Juliet?" "You certainly should" said Butler.

Two hours. More than enough time to kidnap a man. Or to slice his throat, bury him in the forest, and steal his magic project. How the hell did de Harven fit into it? Did he surprise the thieves? Of course, Adam Kamen could've killed his uber-bodyguard and bolted with the goods. Because he was secretly a ninja, adept at mortal combat and vanishing into thin air. Yes, that was it. Case solved.

I've been assigned to bodyguard you." You've got to be kidding me. Derek snorted. Ascanio pretended not to hear it. "The Beast Lord spoke to me this morning. I'm responsible for your well-being, and if you get injured, I'll answer to him personally." Oh, that bastard. Found the kid an impossible job, did he? Derek laughed quietly. Ascanio finally deemed it necessary to acknowledge Derek's existence. "Is something funny?" "I don't even know you, and I feel sorry for you.

You accidentally punched him?” Wyatt asked, suppressing a chuckle. “I’m not sure you have a full understanding of the whole bodyguard thing.

People who want to be famous think it’s the same thing as being loved, but it’s not. Strangers can only ever love a version of you. People loving you for your best qualities is not the same as people loving you despite your worst.

And I guess there really is something profoundly healing about letting somebody love you.

Look, I’m the DD tonight, but I’m offering to be more than just your driver. I’ll be your bodyguard, and your bartender, and most importantly, your friend. I promise to look out for you tonight, Wellsy.

What a surreal sensation, being back here, being treated like he was still the boy who had left for war five years ago. Three men bearing their son's name had lived and died in that time. The soldier who had been forged in Amaram's army. The slave, so bitter and angry. His parents had never met Captain Kaladin, bodyguard to the most powerful man in Roshar. And then ... there was the next man, the man he was becoming. A man who owned the skies and spoke ancient oaths. Five years had passed. And four lifetimes.

I don’t want another bodyguard. I want you.

He hugged her hard. "I love you. My life is so much better with you in it than out of it.

I generally find subtlety a waste of time.

She flew into his arms. Held on tight as he swung her off her feet and hugged her so hard it hurt. She didn't care. She didn't want him to ever let go.

I have to see Glory right now,” he said to Tsunami. “The NightWings are planning to attack tonight.” She gasped, and the trees around her all gasped at the same time. Tsunami turned to frown at the apparently empty branches. “I told you all you could go back to the village,” she said. “I don’t need a bodyguard. I can take care of myself.” Nobody answered. Tsunami sighed.

She danced her way right into his heart. Corny, but true.

Glory told us everything you said in her dream, which, by the way, is crazy, visiting a dragon’s dreams,” Tsunami said to Starflight, winding her tail around his. “Well, except she didn’t tell me about the stealth RainWing bodyguards she put on me. That was pretty hilarious. Everyone should suddenly have the air turn into seven bright purple dragons yelling hysterically whenever she gets attacked.” “Yeah, I wouldn’t have minded something like that,” Starflight said.

There are definite advantages to single beds." He sat up abruptly and arranged her legs around his waist. "Makes cuddling mandatory.

Here's the deal. I get to marry you. You get to become a Garrett - although, considering what you're marrying into, I'm not certain that's much of an incentive." Dallas to Amy

You’re mine,” she whispered. “As long as you’ll have me.

His lips caressed her ear. “Best dance of my entire life.

You cannot have an agency that defends your property, which also has the right to violate your property rights at will. That's like hiring a bodyguard that you pay to beat you up randomly.

The world slowed to the beat of an ancient, ageless drum. Celaena behold the room. The blood was everywhere. Before the bed, Nehemia's bodyguards lay with their throats cut from ear to ear, their internal organs spilling out onto the floor. And on the bed... On the bed... She could hear the shouts growing closer, reaching the room, but their words were somehow muffled, as though she were underwater, the sounds coming from the surface above. Celaena stood in the center of the freezing bedroom, gazing at the bed, and the princess's broken body atop it. Nehemia was dead.

But you don’t have to be perfect to be lovable.

He was Caesar and Pope in one; but he was Pope without Pope's pretensions, Caesar without the legions of Caesar: without a standing army, without a bodyguard, without a palace, without a fixed revenue; if ever any man had the right to say that he ruled by the right divine, it was Mohammed, for he had all the power without its instruments and without its supports. He cared not for the dressings of power. The simplicity of his private life was in keeping with his public life."

Go to bed," he ordered. "Go to bed... and stay there.

If you crawl to live, stand and die.

When you sit that way, you look kind of like a beach ball with a head,” he continued. “Your haircut is really, really bad, I’m probably going to lose my job for helping you this way, and I’m dying to fuck you.” He glanced at her. “That honest enough for you?

Bastards have pissed me off," Reed snarled, out of breath, as he backed into the open armory door. "They hit me in the face." Lang grabbed Reed's jaw, turned his face toward him. "It's just a scratch." It's just my fucking face," Reed sputtered. "It needs to look good on a book jacket when I write my memoirs someday.

I’d rather you hate me alive than love me dead.

Okay,” he said, his breath hitching, his hands shaking like hell as he pried her arms from around his neck and set her away. Deep breath. Another. "Okay. Just...um. Okay. Christ. Christ, Darcy, I want you so bad I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you.

The people we love help teach us who we are. The best versions of who we are, if we’re lucky.

You have to go where I lead you, right? Unless I taser you. Then you'll have to go where I drag you.

I don't think sleeping with you is going to solve anything," she said, stopping at the guest bedroom door. "I don't really care what you think.

Rose, I’m sorry I had to leave so quickly, but when the Alchemists tell me to jump … well, I jump. I’ve hitched a ride back to that farm town we stayed in so that I can pick up the Red Hurricane, and then I’m off to Saint Petersburg. Apparently, now that you’ve been delivered to Baia, they don’t need me to stick around anymore. I wish I could tell you more about Abe and what he wants from you. Even if I was allowed to, there isn’t much to say. In some ways, he’s as much a mystery to me as he is to you. Like I said, a lot of the business he deals in is illegal—both among humans and Moroi. The only time he gets directly involved with people is when something relates to that business—or if it’s a very, very special case. I think you’re one of those cases, and even if he doesn’t intend you harm, he might want to use you for his own purposes. It could be as simple as him wanting to contract you as a bodyguard, seeing as you’re rogue. Maybe he wants to use you to get to others. Maybe this is all part of someone else’s plan, someone who’s even more mysterious than him. Maybe he’s doing someone a favor. Zmey can be dangerous or kind, all depending on what he needs to accomplish. I never thought I’d care enough to say this to a dhampir, but be careful. I don’t know what your plans are now, but I have a feeling trouble follows you around. Call me if there’s anything I can help with, but if you go back to the big cities to hunt Strigoi, don’t leave any more bodies unattended! All the best, Sydney P.S. “The Red Hurricane” is what I named the car. P.P.S. Just because I like you, it doesn’t mean I still don’t think you’re an evil creature of the night. You are.

Amy sat back and grinned. "You just smiled." That was definitely something else she could get used to. Of course, he frowned immediately. "I smile.

I love you, Flora,” I say, and even though there’s a crowd around us, and bodyguards and other royals, it feels like it’s just us. Like we’re back in our room at Gregorstoun, or out on the moors under the stars. “And yes, sometimes you make me crazy, and we’re definitely going to have to talk about the whole high-handed thing, but . . . it’s worth it. You’re worth it.

I think I snapped a wheel at some point tonight. Or at the very least stepped over into the realm of Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone. (Cassandra) How do you mean? (Wulf) Well, let’s see…It’s only eleven o’clock and tonight I have gone to a club that seems to be owned by shape-shifting panthers, where a group of vampire hit men and one possible god attacked me. Went home only to be attacked again by said hit men, god, and then a dragon. Had a Dark-Hunter save me. My bodyguard my or may not be in the service of a goddess and now I just met a sleep spirit. Hell of a day, huh? (Cassandra)

I guess the answer would be yes." "Got to love that word." He kissed her so sweetly then, it brought tears to her eyes. "Got it in you to say it again?" And then he did the unthinkable. He went down on one knee.

Ah, well.” He smiled-another one of those devastatingly intoxicating smiles that did unreasonable things to her body temperature and respiration. With a nod and a respectful, “Ma’am,” he left her in the middle of the room. Feeling like she’d been hit by a tank.

The other bodyguard, Hardin, grinned, showing his crooked teeth. “Sidewinder. Like the snake.” The room was silent, waiting for his point. “You know what they used to call the Green Berets when we were active?” Ty tried hard not to roll his eyes. Behind him, Kelly answered wryly, “Snake Eaters.” Both security men chuckled. “Best watch out, Sidewinders. Don’t want to get eaten.” Nick barked a laugh. “I appreciate the offer, Hoss, but I got someone taking care of me already.” Hardin squared his shoulders, his face growing ruddy. “Don’t worry, you’ll find that someone special,” Kelly assured him, his voice sincere.

When you’re not around, even for a little while, I feel like I have to go find you. I just feel this pull to be near you. I want to know what you’re thinking, and what you’re up to, and how you feel. I want to take you places and show you things. I want to memorize you—to learn you like a song. And that nightgown, and the way you get so cranky when I leave my stuff all over the place, and the way you tie your hair back in that crazy bun. You make me laugh every single day—and nobody makes me laugh. I feel like I’ve been lost all my life until now—and somehow with you I’m just … found.

Go away. I told you, I'm not interested." She looked from his lap to his face. "Your nose is growing too.

White on rice. Green on grass. Sheets on a bed. Him on her.

We're coming to the point where I may need to split my men to evade pursuit. If so, my choice of bodyguard for you will depend much on your won abilities." "Well, I am a fast reader, and I know how to make stew." Carroll nodded in approval "You've a sense of humor about all this, Lady. You'll need one. You're entering a life of great danger.

He(Prophet Muhammad) was Caesar and Pope in one; but he was Pope without Pope's pretensions, Caesar without the legions of Caesar: without a standing army, without a bodyguard, without a palace, without a fixed revenue; if ever any man had the right to say that he ruled by the right divine, it was Muhammad, for he had all the power without its instruments and without its supports.

He understood that she needed some time to get used to "them." He didn't. He knew exactly what was happening, and he didn't need another week, another month, another year, to get things in perspective. He loved her. It was that plain. That simple.

I existed until I met you. Now I'm alive.

You can’t control the world—or other people. You can’t make them love you, either. They will or they won’t, and that’s the truth. But what you can do is decide who you want to be in the face of it all. Do you want to be a person who helps—or hurts? Do you want to be a person who burns with anger—or shines with compassion? Do you want to be hopeful or hopeless? Give up or keep going? Live or die?

Without illusions. I love you because you are fallible and because your poor misguided testosterone-corrupted brain has you doing cartwheels trying not to be. I love you because of all you are and because of all you're not. And because, no matter what, you are all the man I'll ever need.

Only five of the Bodyguards reached Fal Moran alive, every man wounded, but they had the child unharmed. From the cradle they taught him all they knew. He learned weapons as other children learn toys, and the Blight as other children their mother’s garden. The oath sworn over his cradle is graven in his mind. There is nothing left to defend, but he can avenge. He denies his titles, yet in the Borderlands he is called the Uncrowned, and if ever he raised the Golden Crane of Malkier, an army would come to follow. But he will not lead men to their deaths. In the Blight he courts death as a suitor courts a maiden, but he will not lead others to it.

And in the end, do you ever truly know for sure if you’re lovable? What a question. You don’t. You can’t. Of course not. Life never hands out the answers like that. But maybe that’s not even the right question. Maybe love isn’t the judgment you render—but a chance you take. Maybe it’s something you choose to do—over and over. For yourself. And everyone else. Because love isn’t fame. It’s not something other people bestow on you. It’s not something that comes from the outside. Love is something you do. Love is something you generate. And loving other people really does turn out, in the end, to be a genuine way of loving yourself,

We're very dismissive, as a culture, about heartbreak. We talk about it like it's funny, or silly, or cute. As if it can be cured by a pint of Haagen-Dazs and a set of flannel pajamas. But of course, a breakup is a type of grief, it's the death of not just any relationship - but the most important one in your life, There's nothing cute about it. "Dumped" is also a word that falls short of its true meaning. It sounds so quick - like a moment in time. But getting dumped lasts forever. Because a person who loved you decided not to love you anymore. Does that ever really go away?

Vegard and Riston's job today was to guard and protect me. And considering that I was in a tower room in the Guardians' citadel, it looked like a pretty plum assignment. I mean, how much trouble could a girl get into under heavy guard in a tower room? Notice I didn't ask that question out loud. No need to rub Fate's nose in something when I'd been tempting her enough lately. Phaelan had generously his guard services as well, just in case something happened to me that my Guardian bodyguards couldn't handle. Phaelan's guard-on-duty stance resembled his pirate-on-shore-leave stane of leaning back in a chair with his feet up, but instead of a tavern table, his boots were doing a fine job of holding down the windowsill. I don't know how I'd ever felt safe without him.

Nose to nose with her, he gave her his best bad dog snarl. "You've forgotten who and what you're dealing with here, princess. So let me jar your memory. I'm not on your father's short list of men you can bring home to dinner. I'm not a nice man. So if all you're looking for is sex...just keep this up and you're liable to get it. And don't expect some polite little in-and-out and 'oh darling, that was lovely.' You come to my bed, I'm going to fuck you, and there won't be anything polite about it.

My apologies, see, I forgot my manners. I get on the mic ’cause it’s my life. You show off for girls and cameras. You a pop star, not a rapper. A Vanilla Ice or a Hammer. Y’all hear this crap he dumping out? Somebody get him a Pamper. And a crown for me. The best have heard about me. You can only spell “brilliant” by first spelling Bri. You see, naturally, I do my shit with perfection. Better call a bodyguard ’cause you gon’ need some protection, And on this here election, the people crown a new leader. You didn’t see this coming, and your ghostwriters didn’t either. I came here to ether. I’m sorry to do this to you. This is no longer a battle, it’s your funeral, boo. I’m murdering you. On my corner they call me coroner, I’m warning ya. Tell the truth, this dude is borin’ ya. You confused like a foreigner. I’ll explain with ease: You’re just a casualty in the reality of the madness of Bri. No fallacies, I spit maladies, causin’ fatalities, And do it casually, damaging rappers without bandaging. Imagining managing my own label, my own salary. And actually, factually, there’s no MC that’s as bad as me. Milez? That’s cute. But it don’t make me cower. I move at light speed, you stuck at per hour. You spit like a lisp. I spit like a high power. Bri’s the future, and you Today like Matt Lauer. You coward. But you’re a G? It ain’t convincing to me. You talk about your clothes, about your shopping sprees. You talk about your Glock, about your i-c-e. But in this here ring, they all talking ’bout me, Bri!