Hook Shot Kennedy Ryan Quotes

Sometimes we hold so tightly to the hurt from the past that we miss the happiness ahead,

Give yourself permission to let it hurt, but allow yourself permission to let it heal.” Nikki Rowe, Once a Girl, Now a Woman

My beloved is mine and I am his. --Song of Solomon 2:16

I have found the one whom my soul loves. --Song of Solomon 3:4

Love is as strong as death.

There is no one else but you, my friend, my equal.” --Song of Solomon 5:2

There is no place, no spot on the continuum of time that could have hidden this man from me.

What if she gave me to you?” I bend to whisper over her lips. “What if I’m your gris gris now?

Wild women are an unexplainable spark of life. They ooze freedom and seek awareness, they belong to nobody but themselves . . . she'll allow you into her chaos, but she'll also show you her magic.”—Nikki Rowe, Once a Girl, Now a Woman

He's a castle with secret tunnels and abandoned dungeons and heavy locked doors. And I'm his skeleton key.

Children and bored adults need to be entertained. Grown men living with purpose require time and quiet and energy.

No one has to tell a queen to wear her crown.

It’s us admitting to the universe we don’t have all the answers. Too often religion says yes, I do have all the answers, and if you don’t like them, you can’t sit at my table. So we have all these tables. Too many tables, and not enough love.

But religion, as it’s tossed around now, has so little compassion. So little humanity, and faith is first human.

Let me see your face. Let me hear your voice for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely.

He tells me in the way he knows melts me into a puddle—with a song. “You have stolen my heart with one look of your eyes.

That, my beautiful girl,” she’d said, smiling, “is your crown. Your pride. Your self-esteem. The glory of knowing who you are, and that it’s enough. No one has to tell a queen to wear her crown.

I lift my chin, tighten my thighs at his hips, and roll again. Clench tighter, introducing his cock to its new mistress. I will possess this warrior under me. The man they call Gladiator taken captive by a girl half his size and a decade younger. I'm a girl he could crush, but everything in the way he looks at me says cherish. Says treasure. Says protect. Says I'm his, too.

I have found the one whom my soul loves,” he quotes. More tears rain over my cheeks; a release years overdue. I weep for every time I’ve felt unloved, unwanted, unnecessary, and imperfect. It’s all there in the look he settles on me. To him, I’m more than enough. I’m all that he wants.

Our eyes hold and our gris-gris rings lock together like our lives, our destinies, have remained entwined. It could be my imagination, but as she bears down and squeezes my hand for one final agonizing push, I feel that power surge the doctor mentioned. The power in our veins passed between two little girls in the Lower Ninth. We held it in a field of rotting cane, even when we were torn apart. It flows between us now through years and heartache and unconditional love. The power of an unbroken line. We are the magic.

But you have one more time to put your finger in my face and step to me.

I’m falling for her. And if I’m keeping it one hundred, at least with myself, I’m probably already in the past tense on that score. I’ve fallen for her.

Nothing against fake lashes. I just don’t like it when the woman blinking them is fake, too.

I bite my bottom lip until it hurts, and I love it. It’s a hurt I can control. I can turn it on. I can turn it off. If I bite hard enough, I’ll see the marks of my teeth. I prefer that to the pain that spreads over my body when I least expect it. That’s a pain I can’t stop—can’t control. And it’s invisible. Untraceable, but lately, it’s hurting me just the same. I can’t see it. I can’t find it. I can’t fix it.

I falter, my throat closing around the secrets, around the dark memories. My body is reluctant to release them, but I have to. I’m not holding onto this trauma. It’s holding onto me. It has me in a vise grip. I have to get it out to move on.

You have stolen my heart with one look of your eyes.

The things our minds do to protect us from unspeakable trauma may work for a long time, for years in some cases, and then one day, they just stop working. We deal or don’t. And if we don’t

Part of healthy sexuality is knowing you are loveable and worthy even if you don’t offer yourself sexually,

Sometimes we hold so tightly to the hurt from the past that we miss the happiness ahead, and if there is one thing we deserve, Lotus, it’s happiness wherever we can find it.

No, but I think faith, real faith, requires bravery. With every prayer, we risk heartbreak.

True faith is about relationship.

Doing what’s right sometimes breaks our hearts. Knowing it’s right doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Lawd, don’t fail me now.

Wild women are an unexplainable spark of life. They ooze freedom and seek awareness, they belong to nobody but themselves . . . she'll allow you into her chaos, but she'll also show you her magic.

Give yourself permission to let it hurt, but allow yourself permission to let it heal.

I’m not one to believe in fate, but my first week in a city this big, I have a six-degrees-of-separation with the one woman I‘d summer fling and summer fuck. When fate knocks, you answer.

My beloved is mine and I am his,” I quote the song over a salty trail of tears, brokenly, truthfully. “Kenan, I’m yours.” He swells and hardens inside me at the passionate words I pour over him like oil anointing the head of a king.