Confessions Of A Wallflower Quotes

I hope you realize that every day is a fresh start for you. That every sunrise is a new chapter in your life waiting to be written.

The earl shook his head, exhibiting a degree of frosty offense that could only be achieved by an aristocrat whose wishes had just been gainsaid. “I’ve never heard of a man being so eager to confess to the parent of a girl he’s just ruined,” he said sourly.

I am the moon, and sometimes I shine full in my dark, and sometimes I shine half in my dark, and sometimes I am the darkness myself.

Sunrise is the start of something beautiful: the day. Sunset is the start of something beautiful: the night.

Every poem that I've created was yours. I thought they were mine, but they were yours. And I wish I could've kept them. And I wish I could've kept you.

Your mental health is more important than everything.

Reveal to me everything you find ugly about yourself, so I can reveal to you everything I find beautiful about you.

I am both self-destructive and self-loving. Both seem very romantic to me.

I’ve never heard of a man being so eager to confess to the parent of a girl he’s just ruined

I'm going to die one day. And that fact alone should force me to live my life to the fullest. But I'm the opposite way around. I want to die because I am consistently eaten up by nothingness.

You deserve a love that's deeper than the ocean. A love that's brighter than the sun. A love that's higher than the mountains. A love that you can only find inside yourself.

You will sad your way out of life. You will cry. You will scream. And when the sadness is over. You will try. You will dream.

I am a strong believer that fate exists. That everything happens for a reason. That the people we have in our lives are in our lives without accident. There is always meaning. Explainable or unexplainable. There is no such thing as luck. We are all here for a purpose. All we have to do is believe.

Home for me is not where I am. Home for me is a physical structure where the girl whom I love is sheltered and protected from the incoming storms of life. Home for me is not where I am safe, but where she is safe. Home for me is not where she exists, but where she lives. She is my home.

I'll never leave you," he said thousands and thousands of miles away.

Do you fall in love with boys or with girls?" I asked her. "Sometimes boys," she replied. "Mostly souls.

Paint the stars and the moon back into my night sky and tell me it is okay to cry without asking why.

I have both feminine and masculine energy inside me. Both are so equally powerful.

I gave her the kind of love that I read in books. I wrote her letters. Took her to parks. Kept photographs of her. Went to late night drives with her under the stars. Fantasy was all I could really give her.

I feel therefore I love.

I need to fall in love with a hopeless romantic. Someone who would tell me that my eyes are like the stars at night and how my morning bed hair looks like a windswept forest that dances whenever the sky cries every time the ocean quenches her thirst for love. Someone who believes in fate, destiny, and magic. Someone who believes that finding true love is a necessity to cope up with the sadness and agony that life brings. Someone who believes that I exist.

I'm always sad even in times when I am happy. Is that weird? That I feel everything so deeply that even in happy moments I am sad because I am afraid that I'll never be happy for the same reason because I have already felt it? That I have ruined precious moments in life by feeling too much that those moments just turns into sad memories that I'll always look back to whenever I feel the need to remember what it's like to feel every time I feel absolutely nothing at all.

I'm not a wife, or a mother, or a pillar of the ton," she waved her unharmed arm as though the life she was describing was just beyond the room. "I'm invisible. So, why not stop being such a craven wallflower and start trying all the things that I've always dreamed of doing? Why not go to taverns adn drink scotch and fence? I confess, those things have been much more interesting than all the loathsome teas and balls and needlepoint with which I have traditionally occupied my time." She met his gaze again. "Does this make sense?" He nodded seriously. "It does. You're trying to find Callie.

I'm going to steal you," he confessed again. "I'm going to steal you and make you mine." "It's not theft if I allow it," she whispered. Silly girl; of course it was. But it wouldn't stop him.

Dearest," she murmured, "as you know, there was a time when it didn't matter to me whether I married a man I loved or not... it seemed enough just to get my family out of the desperate situation we were in. But when I thought about what it would be like to share a bed with my husband... to spend the rest of my life with him... I knew Simon was the only choice." She paused, and sudden tears glittered her eyes. Beautiful, self-possessed Annabelle, who hardly ever cried. "When I'm ill," she continued in a husky voice, "when I'm afraid, when I need something, I know he will move heaven and earth to make everything all right. I trust him with every fiber of my being. And when I see the child we created, the two of us mingled forever in her... my God, how grateful I am that I married Simon.

How did you persuade the countess to confess so quickly?” she asked. “I would have thought she would have held out for days. I would have thought she would rather die than admit anything—” “I’m afraid that was the choice I gave her.” Her eyes widened. “Oh,” she whispered. -Lillian & Marcus

It was the curse of my life to be sent to this estate. From the moment I first saw you, I felt the connection between us- a connection that should never have existed, and never should have lasted. I tried to admire you from a distance... just as I saw the stars in the sky and knew I could never touch them. But we were too young, and I was with you too often, to preserve that distance. You were my friend, my companion... and later I came to love you as deeply as any man has ever loved a woman. That never changed for me, although I've lied to myself for years." He paused and took a long breath. "No matter how I want to deny it, I will always love you.

Stop being cruel." "The world is cruel. This world is, anyway. Tell me, Your Ladyship, what's it like in your fairy-tale land?" She snatched the shilling from his hand. As he looked on in irritation, she stood, cocked her arm, and winged the coin with all her strength. He pushed to his feet. "You just tossed away a perfectly good shilling. I can't imagine a better example of your pampered existence. That's a day's wages for a workingman." "You have millions of shillings, as you're so fond of telling everyone." "Yes, but I never forget that I came from far less. I couldn't forget that, even if I tried." "I have tried to forget. To forget where I came from, to deny the past. You don't know how I've tried." Her voice crumbled at the edges. "I may not have known poverty, but that doesn't mean I haven't known pain." Gabe pushed a hand through his hair. He recognized the ring of truth in her voice. She was being honest, and he was being an ass. Her character was finally coming into focus. He didn't know who or what had hurt her, but the blade had sunk deep. The world didn't hold enough kittens to fill that wound- but that hadn't stopped her from trying.

Good evening, Miss Peyton. I see you’re fully clothed …for a change.” Gritting her teeth, Annabelle turned to face him. “I must confess, Mr. Hunt, I was amazed by your restraint during dinner. I had expected a rash of insulting comments from you, and yet you managed to behave like a gentleman for a full hour.” “It was a strain,” he acknowledged gravely. “But I thought that I would leave the shocking behavior to you…” He paused delicately before adding, “…since you seem to be doing so well at it of late.” “My friends and I did nothing wrong!” “Did I say that I disapproved of your playing Rounders in the altogether?” he asked innocently. “On the contrary—I endorse it wholeheartedly. In fact, I think you should do it every day.” “I wasn’t in the ‘altogether,’ ” Annabelle retorted in a sharp whisper. “I was wearing undergarments.” “Is that what they were?” he asked lazily.

What about Sandridge?" McKenna asked. "Do you love him?" "Yes," Aline whispered. She loved Adam dearly- just not in the way he meant. "And yet you're here with me," he murmured. "Adam-" She stopped and cleared her throat. "Whatever I choose to do... he doesn't mind. This has nothing to do with him... you and I..." "No, it doesn't," he said with sudden anger. "My God, he should be trying to tear my throat out, instead of letting you go somewhere alone with me. He should be willing to do anything short of murder- hell, I wouldn't even stop at that- to keep other men away from you." Disgust thickened his voice. "You're lying to yourself, if you think that you'll ever be satisfied with the kind of bloodless arrangement your parents had. You need a man who will match your will, own you, occupy every part of your body, and every corner of your soul. In the eyes of the world, Sandridge is your equal- but you and I know better. He's as different from you as ice from fire." He leaned over her, his body forming a hard, living cage around her. "I'm your equal," he said harshly, "though my blood is red instead of blue, though I was condemned by my very birth never to have you... inside, we're the same. And I would break every law of God and man if-" McKenna stopped suddenly, biting back the words as he realized that he was revealing too much, allowing his rampaging emotions to get the better of him.

Evie..." His whisper stirred the tiny wisps at her hairline. "I want to make love to you." Her blood turned to boiling honey. Eventually she managed a stammering reply. "I-I thought y-you never called it that." His hands lifted to her face, his fingertips exploring delicately. She remained docile beneath his caress while the scent of his skin, fresh and clove-like, drugged her like some narcotic incense. Reaching to his own throat, Sebastian fumbled beneath his shirt and extracted the wedding band on the fine chain. He tugged it, breaking the fragile links, and let the chain drop to the floor. Evie's breathing hastened as he reached for her left hand and slid the gold band onto her fourth finger. Their hands matched together, palm to palm, wrist to wrist, just as they had been bound during their wedding ceremony. His forehead lowered to hers, and he whispered, "I want to fill every part of you... breathe the air from your lungs... leave my handprints on your soul. I want to give you more pleasure than you can bear. I want to make love to you, Evie, as I have never done with anyone before.

get it now,” I confess. “Get what?” “Why, at the end of the night, couples always sneak off together like they can’t wait another minute to be alone.” “Is that your way of saying you missed me?” “Yeah. I guess it is.” “I missed you too.

He sat on the edge of the mattress, his nerves sizzling as Daisy gathered up the loose folds of her nightgown. She crawled into his lap with the delicacy of a cat. The scent of sweet female skin filled his nostrils, and her weight settled on his thighs. Linking her slender arms around his neck, she said gravely, “I missed you.” His palms charted the shape of her body; the tender curves, the slender waist, the firm heart-shaped bottom. But as enchanting as he found Daisy’s physical charms, they didn’t affect him a fraction as intensely as the warm, lively intelligence of her nature. “I missed you too.” Daisy’s fingers played in his hair, the delicate touch sending jolts of pleasure from the base of his skull to his groin. Her voice turned provocative. “Did you meet many women in Bristol? Westcliff mentioned something about a dinner, and a soirée given by your host—” “I didn’t notice any women.” Matthew found it hard to think over the exquisite writhing desire. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” She touched the tip of her nose to his in a playful nudge. “You weren’t celibate in the past, however.” “No,” Matthew admitted, closing his eyes as he felt the caress of her breath against his skin. “It’s a lonely feeling, wishing the woman in your arms was someone else. Not long before I left New York, I realized that every woman I’d been with in the past seven years had resembled you in some way. One would have your eyes, another your hands, or your hair…I thought I would spend the rest of my life searching for little reminders of you. I thought—” Her mouth pressed against his, absorbing the raw confession.

There’s a dark secret lurking inside me, one I’ve never confessed to a soul, a fantasy I’ve never explored,