Guy Ritchie Quotes

Lo: “How much did it hurt?” Ryke: “Did what hurt?” Lo: “Watching her with other guys.” Ryke: “It felt like someone was drowning me in fucking salt water and lighting me on fire.

Just repeat this phrase whenever you feel the urge to jump some other guy’s bones.” His mouth brushes my ear. “Loren Hale fucks better.

I love you, Dais, because you’re the wildest fucking girl with the biggest fucking heart. And without you in my life”—he shakes his head like it’s an inconceivable picture—“I’d be the unhappiest fucking guy.

No means no. I don’t care when you say it, Lily. Once it’s out there, it’s out there. Any halfway decent guy would have backed off.

Don’t you ever fucking apologize for another guy’s offense.

Somewhere along the way, she found her voice. Somewhere along the way, she found her stride. I’m just the grateful fucking guy who was given the chance to stand by her side. Through it all.

When girls sleep around—maybe they won’t be called sluts and whores. Maybe they’ll be treated like guys.

I’ve been sleeping in the same bed as her. I’ve been taking care of her. She’s mine. She feels like she belongs to me. I don’t want to share her with any other fucking guy. And I don’t want to be with any other fucking girl.

Rose-"Then you'll need to buy me some barf bags." Conner-"do you always vomit on guys you like or just me?" Rose-" the more you fish for compliments the more I want to puke on you". Conner- "So it is just me then ".

You're not going to be another name on my list of guys for the week. Okay?' (...) 'Then let me try,' he says, his hand cupping my face. 'Let me try to be enough for you.

You’re the kind of guy who would do anything to give me both the cake and the kiss.

While we rest in silence, pages are being written between us. Telling the story of a crazy, sad girl and a fucking dangerous, lonely guy. I

I explode. “I FUCKING LOVE HER!” I scream, my heart thrashing in my ribs. His mouth falls, his brows furrowing in confusion the longer he scrutinizes my features. I feel like he’s clawing at my insides for answers. Here they are. “I fell in fucking love with her. It hurt to be away from Daisy. It hurt to watch her with other guys. Everything fucking hurt, and I didn’t want to live with that pain anymore. I fucking couldn’t.” I inhale deeply. “I can’t tell you when it became unbearable, but it did

You’ve helped me for years.” His brows pull hard. “Now it’s time I help you, and I’m not acting like you’re a leper because this guy tells me to. You may be fucking weird as hell when you and Rose start verbally sparring, but you’re my weirdo best friend. That’s not changing.

You know me better than any guy ever has. You’re my person.

It’s a tender, gentle embrace that I would’ve never expected from an aggressive guy like Ryke. But he has a soft side when it comes to my little sister.

And fuck that, when a guy assaults you, you’re allowed to have every moment to scream. You’re allowed to talk it out and ruin everyone’s week by burdening them with your emotions.

As much as Rose and I bicker and fight, I’d never want to ruin her relationship. Especially not with Connor, a guy who is pretty damn perfect for the girl.

Timo is the kind of guy you wish you knew. Intriguing. Captivating. I'm the shadow to his ceaseless light.

He raises his brows at me, trying not to laugh. “You’ve eaten a h—fuck it. I can’t say it.” Ryke Meadows can’t say the word hoe. “My older brother, ladies and gentleman,” Lo says loudly, “the most decent fucking guy you’ll ever meet.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his eyes. Ryke flips him off.

He points at her. “In fact, you should stay away from any guy who doesn’t make you come at least twice before he fucks you. Keep that in mind.” She

I get it,” I say. “You don’t like anyone tying you down—” “One person can tie me down,” he cuts me off and then glances at me. “You’re smiling.” “I’m not.” I sort of was. I unhinge my jaw, ridding whatever expression is causing him to overflow with satisfaction. His grin has landed in James Franco territory. “I didn’t say that person was you.” I blink. “You ever hear of that annoying six-foot-three guy with bleach-white hair who died in a Chicago stairwell?” He laughs. “You mean the guy you have a hard-on for.

And you don’t need a guy to fulfill you. I wish you would remember that.

I don’t ever have to make that trade. You know why?” “Why?” “You’re the kind of guy who would do anything to give me both the cake and the kiss.” I

There is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will deny even exists until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reason you get up in the morning, the only reason you suffer the shitty boss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. "Fear or revere me, but please think I'm special." We share an addiction. We're approval junkies. We're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. The "hip, hip, hoo-fucking-rah." Look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on, you crazy diamond. Cos we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others.

Some guy.” He’s lying. It was definitely full of me. He tries to hook our fingers, but I pull back slightly, teasingly. He glares. “I’m just some guy,” I remind him. “No,” Maximoff says, firm and final. “You’re the guy.

What we fucking have,” he says. “I love you beyond physical attraction.” He cups my smooth cheek, looking deep into my eyes. “I love you, Dais, because you’re the wildest fucking girl with the biggest fucking heart. And without you in my life”—he shakes his head like it’s an inconceivable picture—“I’d be the unhappiest fucking guy.

She's beautiful because she can make the saddest person in the world grin. And she can make the loneliest guy feel something more. She's youthful and wild. Primal and really fucking innocent. She's all these things that scream big fucking risk.

There's no such thing as problems, Mr. Green, only situations.

Wake me up when you stop flirting with a guy seven years older than you. It’s disgusting.

She reblogged a couple gif sets of that guy from Gilmore Girls that she says I remind her of, so that’s a good thing, right?

The world would be a worse fucking place without that guy.

You know me better than any guy ever has. You’re my person.

I can be unthinking and selfish when I try to live fully. But I've always loved that Ryke never stops me. Whatever wild thing I do, Ryke Meadows does too. Down a ski slope. In an ocean, caged with sharks. Off a cliff. Off a cliff. I was fifteen. I dove into the water. He jumped in after me. I couldn’t imagine any other guy willing to do that for someone they hardly knew.

Has anyone told you...that you’re an amazing kisser? I think I’d almost trade a piece of chocolate cake just to kiss you.” “Almost?” “I don’t ever have to make that trade. You know why?” “Why?” “You’re the kind of guy who would do anything to give me both the cake and the kiss.

And if you dump her because of this then you’re a fucking prick. There are a million guys who would gladly be with Rose. For whatever reason, you met her incredibly high standards, and if you hurt her because she’s not experienced, I swear to God, Connor, you are going to wish you never met me.

We had somehow drawn towards each other. I towered over her, taller than most men and built like an athlete. I never hunched. Never recoiled. I wore my height with pride. She raised her chin to combat me. I pushed her to be the best that she could be. “I know exactly who I am,” I said with every ounce of confidence I possessed. “What unsettles you, Rose, is that you have no idea what kind of guy that is.” I stepped closer and she stiffened. “If people stare at me and see my problems, then I’m useless to them. So I give them exactly what they want. I am whomever or whatever they need.” I held out my blazer again. “And you need a fucking jacket.” She reluctantly took the blazer but hesitated. “I can’t be you,” she said. “I can’t internalize all of my feelings. I don’t understand how you can do that.

A reader has recently described the Heresy novels as "Dan Brown meets Guy Ritchie" and "I am constantly telling people about the awesome movie I'm watching, and then correct myself. Book. Book that I'm reading.

I love you beyond physical attraction.” He cups my smooth cheek, looking deep into my eyes. “I love you, Dais, because you’re the wildest fucking girl with the biggest fucking heart. And without you in my life”—he shakes his head like it’s an inconceivable picture—“I’d be the unhappiest fucking guy.

Just repeat this phrase whenever you feel the urge to jump some other guy’s bones.” His mouth brushes my ear. “Loren Hale fucks better.

In fact, you should stay away from any guy who doesn’t make you come at least twice before he fucks you. Keep that in mind.

Hello, everyone," he says cheerfully.  "I don't think I've met all of you.  Just got here this morning and now I'm on my way back again!" "Who are you?"  Tony says. The new guy looks crestfallen.  "Greg Ritchie," he says. Then, when no one seems to react, he jogs their memory.  "President of the United States." "Oh!  Sorry.  Nice to meet you, Mr.President," Tony says, extending his hand.  "Tony Michaels.

In director Guy Ritchie’s entertainingly bumptious movies for Warner Bros., Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law ricochet around a grimy Victorian-ish London replete with slow-motion fight scenes and massive exploding fireballs. (Watching those movies is like huffing gasified cotton candy, but the world loves them.

Can I talk to you alone?” she asks, refusing to look at the two guys that make this situation really fucking uncomfortable. That’s the point though. This isn’t supposed to be easy for her. “No,” I snap. “I know what you were doing. You know what you were doing. And Connor and Ryke do too. It’s not a fucking secret.

Rose barely glances at them since Connor has infiltrated her safe space. She breathes all heavily and her cheeks start to flush. Aw, my sister is actually affected by the guy. It’s a once in a lifetime happening. She hands one ticket back to him. “Pick me up at seven. Don’t be late.” “I never am.

Connor squeezes her arms lightly, and her attention returns to him. “I’ll go mingle with your mother. Take your time, hun.” He kisses her softly on the cheek and disappears inside the sliding glass doors. It’s in this moment that I realize how well Connor knows my sister. Most guys would choose to save the girl from manual labor. But Rose would rather delay any conversation with our mother.

He has that power over people. It’s insane, and I realize how much I love the guy. That’s the funny thing right: He’ll probably never love me.

For me, I remember being a seventeen-year-old kid who vandalized a house. I remember the guy who gave me the handout when I needed it but didn’t deserve it. I don’t know—Loren Hale is the one who has powers to me.

Loren Hale is still that guy.

But most importantly, my family is here. Loren Hale. Lily. Their little six-year-old who calls me Uncle Garrison but treats me like I’m the coolest guy he’s ever known. Moffy has been giving me a thumbs up about every minute. Even if I don’t catch his eyes, I can see his little thumb up in the air from my peripheral. Lily bounces their two-year-old on her knee, and Luna giggles softly. The Hales took me in when I had nowhere to go—they’re my family now. I feel that cemented deeply. Permanently.

Hey,” Ryke cuts in. “No fucking French.” “Yeah,” Lo says, “Lily wants to hear you guys talk dirty in English.” He adds a smile to his girlfriend.

Rose constantly fights for the right to go stag, since no guy can ever live up to her impossible standards.

Ryke rushes towards me. His scowl and concern mixed with his Star Wars costume has an oddly super attractive effect. He’d be the sexy, I give no fucks guy at a nerd convention. Who accidentally acts more like his character by just being confident.

Just repeat this phrase whenever you feel the urge to jump some other guy’s bones.” His mouth brushes my ear. “Loren Hale fucks better.

What the hell is even happening? Two guys. Two kisses. I am not Elena Gilbert.

My phone vibrates as the guys start pouring shots. A text message from my little sister Kinney at 3:24 a.m., a witching hour, means only one thing. I asked the Ouija board if you suck and the ghost told me yes. – Kinney

Of course, you wouldn’t,”he says gruffly. “This doesn’t really affect you, does it?”I stiffen. “What is that supposed to mean?”I feel very affected by the prospect of a romantic set-up with Oscar. I’ve barely slept in the past two weeks! I keep thinking about him. I can’t stop thinking about him. He waves a hand at me. “Nothing changes for you, bro,”he says angrily. “You’re just happily riding this fucked-up train where I’m being set-up with the guy who rejected me. I mean—what in the ever-loving hell

I won’t let everything fall apart right now. You chose me, didn’t you, Long Beach? You risked it all for a guy who’s gonna be the glue keeping the pieces together.

Jimmy Page was great, Eddie Van Halen was amazing -he re-revolutionized guitar, Randy Rhoads… I mean, from Neal Schon to Zakk Wylde, these guys are outstanding. But there’s nobody like Ritchie Blackmore -from stem to stern.

What the hell is even happening? Two guys. Two kisses. I am not Elena Gilbert. I’m not emotionally prepared for a love triangle. And oh fuck, I can’t believe I’m thinking about The Vampire Diaries right now.

When he was eventually invalided out of Hong Kong and back to London, Pawson had expected a hero’s return. Instead he’d been comprehensively debriefed, reprimanded for his stupidity in falling into Japanese hands and subjected to a barrage of gripes about the length of his convalescence at such an inopportune time. There had been no mention at all of his bravery in the face of torture. It had been a harsh lesson, but one well worth learning.

I settled down in the more comfortable of the two chairs to bring myself up to date on how the mother country was getting along without me. Badly was my immediate impression, the main news amply justifying my self-imposed exile.

Pinto hove into sight, his drab, insignificant exterior concealing a drab, insignificant soul.

Highland and I have history. Okay, that’s a lie. We have zero history. Because the guy rejected my kiss. Rejected me.

Life is painful, once you accept that, it's infinitely less painful.

Guys on the team say Connor Cobalt is all-knowing, all-seeing like the Wizard of fucking Oz and if you have the honour of protecting him, you'll come back with a higher IQ.

How about this?” His husky, low voice takes my breath. “Just repeat this phrase whenever you feel the urge to jump some other guy’s bones.” His mouth brushes my ear. “Loren Hale fucks better.

Its the first sentence that hooks the reader to the book. It is the last sentence that hooks the reader to the author." -My Wife-

I’m attracted to girls and guys.  I’m bisexual.