Fallen Crest Quotes

I run to run." ~ Sam

In that moment, I realized that he always had that affect on me. The ice façade I reined over myself was plucked away whenever his attention was on me. He reached over and took it away like I was a baby with candy.

We've been quiet, woman. We've taken yoru presence in this house like calm good little boys, but we're not good little boys

People are snakes, you just have to figure out their different colors, but they're all the same. Everybody wants something.

You, Sam. I love you. Only you. When I’m not with you, I survive. When I’m with you, I live.

No one will ever be you. All roads lead to you, Mason. No one else matters because I’m always going towards you.

Sometimes family hurts you more than they could ever love you.

Mason slid down beside me and Logan curled an arm around my shoulder. He drawled against my cheek, "It'll throw them off. Their visionary senses will tell them we're screwing and they'll get confused." His hand slid down towards my breast.

His hand slid back up to my shoulder. He gave me a pat. "Threesome fearsome. No one stands a chance." I grinned at him. "What about Nate?" He tapped his beer with mine. "When he's around, it's the foursome fearsome. You can add any 'some to that name. Thank goodness, huh?" Then he groaned. "I really need to get laid tonight.

Money is just padding. It can be used to shelter you from some things, but there’s no sheltering from other things like love and kindness. Money has no effect on the real stuff.

You’re like a mosquito that won’t die. Back up or I’ll swat you down.

I’m awesome, Sam. Have you not gotten the memo recently? It’s supposed to go out every Friday morning with Twitter alerts. #Logansawesomenooneforgetit.

He flipped up his middle finger. "I don't care. I can't handle this. My game is talk. You tried to take that away." He shot an arm towards Mason. "He fights. I talk. That's the magic of our twosome fearsome.

Logan shot to his feet. "I can't keep quiet anymore. You all are stupid idiots if you think that. Don't you know her? Don't you know Mason? My god, I'm embarrassed to call you ass-dults!

Logan reached out and caught my shoulders when I started to leave. He pulled me back against his chest and enfolded his arms over my chest. "Ah, our little sister, trying to be all nice and saintly." Mason snorted and opened the door. "Saints don't set cars on fire." We all piled out behind him and Logan chuckled. "There's that, yeah.

He whistled. "Are you serious? I was sure I saw Mason showing you." My hand clamped down on his shoulder and he winced, howling under his breath. "Remove the claws, Sam. Seriously.

It’s you. It’s only been you for me. When I came into your life, I might’ve seemed strong, but I wasn’t. I had nothing to lose. When you have nothing to lose, you’re capable of doing a lot of damage, but suddenly I had something to lose. You.

You're so secretive, Samantha. We had no idea you liked to run."My eyebrow shot up. "Well, how could you? We've been such great friends since…" I waited a beat and gave my own forced laugh. "Oh, that's right. We're not friends.

She had no idea just how rare she was.

She’s the love of my life.” My heart was pumping so damn fast. I needed to see her.

You want to take me on? Do it. I’m going to enjoy this because, honey, I need a distraction from the real turmoil going on in my life.

It seems like it's my night with Becky tonight, she's down in the dumps because of Adam." "The quarterback who wants to bang you?" I shook my head. He knew exactly who Adam was. "Yes, she likes him." He grimaced. "She could have better taste in men." "You want her to go after you instead?" His eyes got wide. "You should encourage those two to date.

And I really love how you love me. Completely. Irrevocably. Overwhelmingly. Selflessly. Unconditionally.” He lifted his head, peering right down into me. His lips were just above mine. “Because I don’t deserve it, but somehow, I got it, and I will never, ever do anything to lose it.

You guys are too horny. I don’t think it’s normal.

Are you kidding me? We’re going to steal a cop car. How could I not be naked for this story? It’s going to be epic.

Just kidding. Nate already claimed me as his sister wife, even though we’re both dudes. We’ll figure a way. We don’t need you guys. You can have your own Twosome Fearsome. Nate and I have realized our long-lost, deep…deeply buried love for each other. He’s my Twosome Gaysome. Come to my bosom, my little horny husband.

But not as much as you do. I don’t know what to tell you to make you understand. You’re like sunlight to her. I’m the fucking lamp in the corner.” He paused and shook his head. “No, screw that. You’re the sun to her, while I’m a chandelier. Still beautiful, but one drastically outshines the other.

Fool girl. An enemy isn’t always an enemy. Sometimes, in the rare moments, we can be the greatest ally.

I’m Logan Motherfucking Kade. I have my own hashtags,

People don't know what they're made of until they're tested.

She's conquered and proved her loyalty runs deep." He flinched. "Real deep if I'm guessing at how far Mason goes in her—

They love you for the same reasons they don't love anyone else.

I’m always going to worry. When it comes to you, there’s nothing I won’t do, and he knows that. That’s my weakness—how much I love you, the lengths I’ll go to protect you.

She said I wasn’t broken at all.

He came back up with a brighter smile. "And I'm proven right, again! You guys should hire me for this talent I have. Mom, I bet you have a better sex life with that Garrett dude than you did with dad." "Logan!" He turned towards James. "And dad, I bet your sex life is pretty good with Analise. She strikes me as the slutty type." "Logan!" He grinned broadly. "And David…I don't know you that well, but you strike me as conservative. You're only going to be with a conservative woman, maybe one that looks exotic though. I can tell you have control issues. You don't like anyone who is wilder than you, probably why you had problems with your ex, huh? As for the current one, she's hot under the covers, but I don't know if you want her to be." He shook his head in sympathy. "You might want to take care of that.

I promised, “I will not leave you. I will not hold back anymore. I will not allow anyone to get in between us. They don’t have to deal with just you anymore. They’ll have to deal with me too.

I was broken. I didn't need to break anyone else with me.

I’ll be there for the whole thing. Whatever you need, you tell me. I’ll be your running bitch. I’ll give you a radio and you can call me any moment. I’ll come running. I’ll do whatever. If you want an inspirational poem, call me Logan Angelou. If you want music to warm you up, I’m the new Beastie Boy. Whatever you want.

Logan lifted an eyebrow, looked at me, then back to Nate. “That really touched me. I have no smartass comment to follow that.

Oh, good. I like having a sister that’s banging my brother.

They grow them like that nowadays? Sign me up to be a cougar.

Same shit. Different day.

He’s not just yours today, Sam. You have to share. He’s my brother, and he’s leaving me too.” He pounded again on the door. “This is your thirty minute notice. You have a half hour to do your deed, ride him hard, and then get dressed. I want my time with him.

the wham-bam-thank-you-and-maybe-I’ll-call-you-later-ma’am vibe from him? That’s called a Loganism,

A growl came from the back of my throat. I looked like shit. I felt like shit. I wasn't ready to deal with her shit.

Mason moved back and whispered as his lips teased my skin, "You're going to ride me long and hard tonight." I grinned against his neck. It was what every girl wanted to hear.

Mason, language. Do you always have to curse in my presence?” I nodded and flashed her a smile. “Don’t worry, Helen dearest, I don’t discriminate. I curse outside of your presence too.

Put something on,"she hissed."I'm not some high school cheerleader you can intimidate or make me squirm by showing your penis. I've seen it before.I was the one who changed your diapers." -fallen crest high

I feel hornier than a dog who almost got his balls snipped off. Shit, man. Your face is gorgeous. Have you always been this fine specimen?

So, want to be my sister wife?

Now I knew. That friendship was over. Fucking hell.

You attack one, you attack all. That was our motto.

I couldn’t shake the fear that Mason would follow through on a threat he said a year ago: No girl would come between him and his brother. Well. Hello. Here I am.

I will never be worthy of you, but one day, I hope to be better. One day, I will give you everything. I promise.

I know that we’re going into this together. I know we’re equal, but let me protect you. That’s what I’m supposed to do.

What?” He gestured to his face. “You got the whole look like, ‘Grr, I’m Mason.

Being loved and accepting love are two completely different things. It’s my job to continue to show it to you. All you have to do is accept it, little by little.

If I stay much longer, I think I will have fallen in love with you.

If Mark wasn't a cool guy, and if your dad hadn't got there first, I'd bang Mark's mom.

When you get a woman who you love…” Mason glanced sideways to me. “When she means the world to you and you’re ready to do anything to keep her safe,

People are snakes, you just have to figure out their different colors, but they're all the same. Everybody wants something.” ― Tijan, Fallen Crest High

I glared at her, but gentled as I looked at my father. "It's not a cry for help, David. It's—" "They're hot as hell for each other!" Logan shot to his feet. "I can't keep quiet anymore. You all are stupid idiots if you think that. Don't you know her? Don't you know Mason? My god, I'm embarrassed to call you ass-dults!" "Logan," his mother hissed. "Shut up. You promised." He flipped up his middle finger. "I don't care. I can't handle this. My game is talk. You tried to take that away." He shot an arm towards Mason. "He fights. I talk. That's the magic of our twosome fearsome.

Those two boys have healed you. They took you in. They protected you. They continue to love you because they’re your family and both of them know it. They love you for the same reasons they don’t love anyone else. You’re pure. It might not make sense to you, but you don’t use them. You don’t want anything from them. You don’t want to hurt them. Your love for both of them is pure.

I get to see her at night." "No deal." "That's the only deal. I sleep over." "She's my daughter." "She's the love of my life". My heart was pumping so damn fast I needed to see her. David was searching my eyes. I let him see the truth. I needed her. That was the only way. "Fine, but only you. Logan can't start sleeping over, too." "He'll try." David groaned. "You two, you just storm your way in-" "We're family to her. We took her in when you let her go. We protected her from that woman.

Logan leaned over and whispered, "Or as I like to call it, the tutorial guide on how to mindfuck entire groups.

You two are like a married couple." Uh...I pointed to my head. "Heavy meds here. Say that again." She rolled her eyes. "You heard me just fine. So did you," she threw to Mason.

When I’m not with you, I survive. When I’m with you, I live.

What? That’s what being Logan is all about. I’m like a ping-pong ball. I’m all over the place. Too fast for you to catch.” Sam

May you be the strongest. May you run the hardest. And may your ass beat some bitches and be the fastest.

You never have to thank me. That’s part of loving someone.

Fuck your brothers in the ass backwards.

He added, “But not as much as you do. I don’t know what to tell you to make you understand. You’re like sunlight to her. I’m the fucking lamp in the corner.” He paused and shook his head. “No, screw that. You’re the sun to her, while I’m a chandelier. Still beautiful, but one drastically outshines the other.

Yeah. He looked like a cat who'd found his favorite mouse wounded or something. It was eerie. And he started to make fun of her, like all cruel and stuff. The things he said to her were horrible and he was only playing with her. She didn't try to defend herself. I guess Mason Kade really hates that girl, and the way he ripped into her. It was something else." "He enjoyed it." Adam's voice was quiet. I looked over and held his gaze. Something dark was in their depths. He spoke again, "It was like an animal that was playing with its kill before they fully killed it. That's what he was doing with her. I've never seen anything like it before.

Sometimes family hurts you more than they could ever love you. That’s a truth a lot of people don’t want to hear, but sometimes people get the opposite. They get the families that love you more than they could ever hurt you. Those people are the luckiest in the world. You know what pisses me off? Is that they probably don’t even know it. They don’t know how lucky they are, but, Sam, you’re one of them.

I had a different girl to comfort right now.

He blinked. He broke. I won. Then he laughed in a smooth baritone voice. “Yeah, you’re my kid alright.

Your brother needs to stop watching the BBC network.” Logan shouted from inside, “I heard that, and never, woman. BBC holds my heart like no vixen ever shall.

A streak of bare flesh darted past our door. Mason grinned at me. "It's like we didn't even miss Fisher's party tonight." My nurse sprinted past our door, followed by another two.

Where exactly did you lose yourself? Maybe we could retrace our steps. You could find yourself where you last saw yourself?” “Har

Push me and i'll choose Mason. Every. Damn. Time

knew it was coming, and my heart had clamored for it. It was the moment when I saw into him, past all his walls, shields, jokes, and the facade he wore for most people. He shed it for me, and as I closed my eyes, feeling him enter me, I knew this was the real Logan. He was giving himself to me.

I will move you.” “We’re not

He fights. I talk. That’s the magic of our twosome fearsome.

I swallowed, feeling like I'd just gotten the wind knocked out of me. He was breathtaking.

When he left for his date, he was late

As he yawned again and tried to cover it with his hand, I thought he looked adorable. His eyes were softer from the fatigue and his eyelids drooped a bit.

Of course Mason and Logan followed me where I went.

You got beat up. Bones and bruises heal. Those girls didn't win because they didn't do what they wanted. They wanted to break you. I was already broken. "You're not broken at all.

I didn’t bat an eye before answering, “I made out with one other girl while I was with my girlfriend.” Excitement filled her eyes. “I was setting her up to take the fall for my girlfriend. Some other asshole wanted to hurt someone I cared about.” Seeing Matteo and Drew come through the doors, I stood. “I gave him someone else that I gave no shits about.

The squall has ceased to be a cause of my complaint. The magic of the craft has opened for me a world in which I shall confront, within two hours, the black dragons and the crowned crests of a coma of blue lightnings, and when the night has fallen, I, delivered, shall read my course in the stars.

You’re wrong. You’re so completely and fucked-up wrong. I live, Taylor.” He pointed to his chest. “I don’t turn shit off and hide. I live, and if that means going at the storm, I’ll go. I don’t hold back. I don’t flinch. I never second-guess. I do life. Otherwise, why the hell are we alive? Why are we here if we let our demons win? They don’t give a shit. They’re off doing their thing. You should, too. You’ve been through the fire already. Why are you still afraid? There’s no way in hell I’m going to let some ‘less than’ experience I had rule how I live the rest of my life.

Since no one else in this house plays football, I’m assuming you’re talking about me, and yes, he’s awake,” Mason said, coming into the kitchen. He stopped, gave the pile of fruit a lifted eyebrow, then ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, Logan. I said to grab a few pieces of fruit. You got the entire produce section.” I smirked. “You don’t know. That could be my new pet name for Nate’s asshole. Wide receiver—” Nate yelled, “Shut the fuck up!” Laughing,

The bed dipped under his weight. He paused with one foot before shaking his head and mumbling, "I'm not going to be able to sleep. I'm going to be so damn scared that I'll hurt you." It didn't matter. None of it mattered. When he shifted to his side and then reached for my hand, I closed my eyes. I could sleep now. Everything would work out. Our hands where tucked between us on the bed. I clung to his, while he seemed scared to hold mine back. That didn't matter either. I just needed to be held, a mere touch from him.

The root of our problems is me. Never you. I was fucked up growing up, and then it became about the crew, about staying away from you, then Bren. I was the root of our problems. I knew as long as I was with the crew, you weren’t first, but that’s over. I’m out. I left the crew for us, for you. It’s time,” he said again. I blinked.

Malinda moved so we were eye-level. "Forget the people who've hurt you. You don't have them anymore, but you have two others that'll do anything to you. Mason and Logan would move mountains for you. I see how you are with them. You love them, but you're scared to let yourself be happy. Why? Because that's when they'll leave? Is that what you think? You've got it all wrong. Those two will never leave you." She tapped my chest. Once. Twice. "You. You're the one that's going to hurt them. You have that power, and you don't know it. You could rip those two apart in a second, and they're the ones who are scared of you. Not the other way around. You need to recognize the real situation.

Sometimes family hurts you more than they could ever love you. That’s a truth a lot of people don’t want to hear, but sometimes people get the opposite. They get the families that love you more than they could ever hurt you. Those people are the luckiest in the world. You know what pisses me off? Is that they probably don’t even know it. They don’t know how lucky they are, but, Sam, you’re one of them.” I sucked in a breath. That ache was a stabbing pain now. She leaned forward. Some of her long hair fell forward, but she ignored it as she grasped my shoulders. Malinda moved so we were eye-level. “Forget the people who’ve hurt you. You don’t have them anymore, but you have two others that’ll do anything for you. Mason and Logan would move mountains for you. I see how you are with them. You love them, but you’re scared to let yourself be happy. Why? Because that’s when they’ll leave? Is that what you think? You’ve got it all wrong. Those two will never leave you.” She tapped my chest. Once. Twice. “You. You’re the one that’s going to hurt them. You have that power, and you don’t know it. You could rip those two apart in a second, and they’re the ones who are scared of you. Not the other way around. You need to recognize the real situation.

Do not laugh! But once upon a time (my crest has long since fallen) I had a mind to make a body of more or less connected legend, ranging from the large and cosmogonic, to the level of romantic fairy-story – the larger founded on the lesser in contact with the earth, the lesser drawing splendour from the vast backcloths – which I could dedicate simply to: to England; to my country. It should possess the tone and quality that I desired, somewhat cool and clear, be redolent of our ‘air’ (the clime and soil of the North West, meaning Britain and the hither parts of Europe: not Italy or the Aegean, still less the East), and, while possessing (if I could achieve it) the fair elusive beauty that some call Celtic (though it is rarely found in genuine ancient Celtic things), it should be ‘high’, purged of the gross, and fit for the more adult mind of a land long now steeped in poetry. I would draw some of the great tales in fullness, and leave many only placed in the scheme, and sketched. The cycles should be linked to a majestic whole, and yet leave scope for other minds and hands, wielding paint and music and drama. Absurd. Of course, such an overweening purpose did not develop all at once. The mere stories were the thing. They arose in my mind as ‘given’ things, and as they came, separately, so too the links grew. An absorbing, though continually interrupted labour (especially since, even apart from the necessities of life, the mind would wing to the other pole and spend itself on the linguistics): yet always I had the sense of recording what was already ‘there’, somewhere: not of ‘inventing’. Of course, I made up and even wrote lots of other things (especially for my children). Some escaped from the grasp of this branching acquisitive theme, being ultimately and radically unrelated: Leaf by Niggle and Farmer Giles, for instance, the only two that have been printed. The Hobbit, which has much more essential life in it, was quite independently conceived: I did not know as I began it that it belonged. But it proved to be the discovery of the completion of the whole, its mode of descent to earth, and merging into ‘history’. As the high Legends of the beginning are supposed to look at things through Elvish minds, so the middle tale of the Hobbit takes a virtually human point of view – and the last tale blends them.

Her hands felt their way blindly along the ridges and canyons and defiles of the spine, the firm root-spread hillocks of the withers. She rolled her bony knuckles all along the fallen tree of scar tissue at the crest of the back, prying up its branches, loosening its teeth. And it must be having some effect: when she walked Pelter these days he wasn't the sour fellow he used to be, he was sportive, even funny. She had walked him this morning until the rising sun snagged in the hackberry thicket. As they swung around the barn, she took a carrot from her pocket and gave him the butt and noisily toothed the good half herself. He curvetted like a colt, squealed, and cow-kicked alarmingly near her groin. Okay, okay, she said, and handed it over. She was glad there was no man around just then to tell her to show that horse who was boss. When they were back in the stall and she turned to leave, she found he had taken he whole raincoat in his mouth and was chewing it--the one she was wearing. She twisted around with difficulty and pried it out of his mouth. He eyed her ironically. Just between us, is this the sort of horse act I really ought to discipline? she asked him, smoothing out her coat. I simply incline to your company, he replied.

One Autumn night, in Sudbury town, Across the meadows bare and brown, The windows of the wayside inn Gleamed red with fire-light through the leaves Of woodbine, hanging from the eaves Their crimson curtains rent and thin.” “As ancient is this hostelry As any in the land may be, Built in the old Colonial day, When men lived in a grander way, With ampler hospitality; A kind of old Hobgoblin Hall, Now somewhat fallen to decay, With weather-stains upon the wall, And stairways worn, and crazy doors, And creaking and uneven floors, And chimneys huge, and tiled and tall. A region of repose it seems, A place of slumber and of dreams, Remote among the wooded hills! For there no noisy railway speeds, Its torch-race scattering smoke and gleeds; But noon and night, the panting teams Stop under the great oaks, that throw Tangles of light and shade below, On roofs and doors and window-sills. Across the road the barns display Their lines of stalls, their mows of hay, Through the wide doors the breezes blow, The wattled cocks strut to and fro, And, half effaced by rain and shine, The Red Horse prances on the sign. Round this old-fashioned, quaint abode Deep silence reigned, save when a gust Went rushing down the county road, And skeletons of leaves, and dust, A moment quickened by its breath, Shuddered and danced their dance of death, And through the ancient oaks o'erhead Mysterious voices moaned and fled. These are the tales those merry guests Told to each other, well or ill; Like summer birds that lift their crests Above the borders of their nests And twitter, and again are still. These are the tales, or new or old, In idle moments idly told; Flowers of the field with petals thin, Lilies that neither toil nor spin, And tufts of wayside weeds and gorse Hung in the parlor of the inn Beneath the sign of the Red Horse. Uprose the sun; and every guest, Uprisen, was soon equipped and dressed For journeying home and city-ward; The old stage-coach was at the door, With horses harnessed, long before The sunshine reached the withered sward Beneath the oaks, whose branches hoar Murmured: "Farewell forevermore. Where are they now? What lands and skies Paint pictures in their friendly eyes? What hope deludes, what promise cheers, What pleasant voices fill their ears? Two are beyond the salt sea waves, And three already in their graves. Perchance the living still may look Into the pages of this book, And see the days of long ago Floating and fleeting to and fro, As in the well-remembered brook They saw the inverted landscape gleam, And their own faces like a dream Look up upon them from below.

One Autumn night, in Sudbury town, Across the meadows bare and brown, The windows of the wayside inn Gleamed red with fire-light through the leaves Of woodbine, hanging from the eaves Their crimson curtains rent and thin. As ancient is this hostelry As any in the land may be, Built in the old Colonial day, When men lived in a grander way, With ampler hospitality; A kind of old Hobgoblin Hall, Now somewhat fallen to decay, With weather-stains upon the wall, And stairways worn, and crazy doors, And creaking and uneven floors, And chimneys huge, and tiled and tall. A region of repose it seems, A place of slumber and of dreams, Remote among the wooded hills! For there no noisy railway speeds, Its torch-race scattering smoke and gleeds; But noon and night, the panting teams Stop under the great oaks, that throw Tangles of light and shade below, On roofs and doors and window-sills. Across the road the barns display Their lines of stalls, their mows of hay, Through the wide doors the breezes blow, The wattled cocks strut to and fro, And, half effaced by rain and shine, The Red Horse prances on the sign. Round this old-fashioned, quaint abode Deep silence reigned, save when a gust Went rushing down the county road, And skeletons of leaves, and dust, A moment quickened by its breath, Shuddered and danced their dance of death, And through the ancient oaks o'erhead Mysterious voices moaned and fled. These are the tales those merry guests Told to each other, well or ill; Like summer birds that lift their crests Above the borders of their nests And twitter, and again are still. These are the tales, or new or old, In idle moments idly told; Flowers of the field with petals thin, Lilies that neither toil nor spin, And tufts of wayside weeds and gorse Hung in the parlor of the inn Beneath the sign of the Red Horse. Uprose the sun; and every guest, Uprisen, was soon equipped and dressed For journeying home and city-ward; The old stage-coach was at the door, With horses harnessed,long before The sunshine reached the withered sward Beneath the oaks, whose branches hoar Murmured: "Farewell forevermore. Where are they now? What lands and skies Paint pictures in their friendly eyes? What hope deludes, what promise cheers, What pleasant voices fill their ears? Two are beyond the salt sea waves, And three already in their graves. Perchance the living still may look Into the pages of this book, And see the days of long ago Floating and fleeting to and fro, As in the well-remembered brook They saw the inverted landscape gleam, And their own faces like a dream Look up upon them from below.