Hook Wendy Quotes

The greatest thing I've ever done in my life was to love you,Wendy,darling.

Only yours, James Barrie.” “And always yours, Wendy, darling.” He kisses my jaw. “Every night.” “And straight on ‘til morning.

Proud and insolent youth,” said Hook, “prepare to meet thy doom.” “Dark and sinister man,” Peter answered, “have at thee.

But I regret, with every fiber of my being, that for even one moment you suffered under my hands.” Her eyes widen, the beautiful shades of brown glossing over. “You are, without a doubt, the only good I’ve ever known.” I rest my forehead on hers, my shaky breaths ghosting across her lips, my thumb rubbing against her cheek. “So… don’t lie to me, Wendy, darling. Because my heart won’t survive it if you do.

The greatest thing I’ve ever done in my life was to love you, Wendy, darling.

The seven of us slipped onto the porch and down the deck stairs, finding lawn chairs to sit in under a giant oak tree. Kaidan leaned back in his chair, balancing it on the back two legs. “How about a game of Truth or Dare?” Marna offered. I was immediately apprehensive. Just as I was about to suggest something else, Kaidan spoke and my heart faltered. “I'll go first,” he said. “I dare Kope to kiss Anna.” Everything inside me flooded with fury and embarrassment. Kaidan leaned far back with his arms crossed, cocky. I stood up without thinking and hooked my foot under his chair, swiftly kicking upward and causing him to topple backward. He looked up at me from the ground with a stunned expression that morphed into a grin. The twins and Blake were in hysterics. Blake laughed so hard he fell sideways out of his own chair, which made Jay join in the laughter. I couldn't sit there with them anymore. This whole night was a disaster. I turned and walked through the yard, toward the side of the house. I heard Ginger talk between gasps of mirth. “Maybe she's not so bad after all!

And until I decide otherwise, Wendy Michaels is mine.

I don’t know whether you have ever seen a map of a person’s mind. Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you, and your own map can become intensely interesting, but catch them trying to draw a map of a child’s mind, which is not only confused, but keeps going round all the time. There are zigzag lines on it, just like your temperature on a card, and these are probably roads on the island, for the Neverland is always more or less an island, with astonishing splashes of colour here and there, and coral reefs and rakish-looking craft in the offing, and savages and lonely lairs, and gnomes who are mostly tailors, and caves through which a river runs, and princes with sex elder brothers, and a hut fast going to decay, and one very small old lady with a hooked nose. It would be an easy map if that were all, but there is also first day at school, religion, fathers, the round pond, needle-work, murders, hangings, verbs that take the dative, chocolate-pudding day, getting into braces, say ninety-nine threepence for pulling out your tooth yourself, and so on, and either these are part of the island or they are another map showing through, and it is all rather confusing, especially as nothing will stand still. Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John’s, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingos flying over it at which John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by its parents...

No one is allowed to touch you here again.” His fingers pump in and out while his thumb circles slowly against my swollen clit. “I’m a very possessive man, Wendy. And I want you for myself.” His

You are, without a doubt, the only good I’ve ever known.” I rest my forehead on hers, my shaky breaths ghosting across her lips, my thumb rubbing against her cheek. “So don’t lie to me, Wendy darling. Because my heart won’t survive it if you do.

Oh, aren't you cute? It's absolutely...," Hook says, scratching his head, "darling.

Two small figures were beating against the rock; the girl had fainted and lay on the the boy's arm. With a last effort Peter pulled her up the rock and then lay down beside her. Even as he also fainted he saw that the water was raising, He knew that they would soon be drowned, but he could do no more. As they lay side by side a mermaid caught Wendy by the feet, and began pulling her softly into the water. Peter feeling her slip from him, woke with a start, and was just in time to draw her back. But he had to tell her the truth. "We are on the rock, Wendy," he said, "but it is growing smaller. Soon the water will be over it." She did not understand even now. "We must go," she said, almost brightly. "Yes," he answered faintly. "Shall we swim or fly, Peter?" He had to tell her. "Do you think you could swim or fly as far as the island, Wendy, without my help?" She had to admit she was too tired. He moaned. "What is it?" she asked, anxious about him at once. "I can't help you, Wendy. Hook wounded me. I can neither fly nor swim." "Do you mean we shall both be downed?" "Look how the water is raising." They put their hands over their eyes to shut out the sight. They thought they would soon be no more. As they sat thus something brushed against Peter as light as a kiss, and stayed there, as if to say timidly, "Can I be of any us?" It was the tail of a kite, which Michael had made some days before. It had torn itself out of his hand and floated away. "Michael's kite," Peter said without interest, but the next moment he had seized the tail, and was pulling the kite towards him. "It lifted Michael off the ground," he cried; "why should it not carry you?" "Both of us!" "It can't left two; Michael and Curly tried." "Let us draw lots," Wendy said bravely. "And you a lady; never." Already he had tied the tail round her. She clung to him; she refused to go without him; but with a "Good-bye, Wendy." he pushed her from the rock; and in a few minutes she was borne out of his sight. Peter was alone on the lagoon. The rock was very small now; soon it would be submerged. Pale rays of light tiptoed across the waters; and by and by there was to be heard a sound at once the most musical and the most melancholy in the world: the mermaids calling to the moon.

He already told you, didn’t he?” Wendy cocks her head. “He popped my cherry.” Gasps sound around the table, and I choke on the liquid of my drink, my hand shooting to my chest to stifle the cough. “Wendy,” Peter hisses.

I’ve never done a drug in my life, but I imagine it feels similar to the way it does when Wendy courses through my veins. All-consuming.

Hook,” I whisper through the dark. “Wendy.” “I don’t want to die.” He sighs. “Go to sleep, darling. Your soul is safe tonight.” “Okay.

Once invited, always welcome. Once invited, never free.

Don't say it,' I hiss, my stomach twisting until it tears. 'Don't you dare say it.' He smiles, and I swear to God the sight makes me want to die. 'The greatest thing I've ever done in my life was to love you Wendy darling.

Every moment he spent with Wendy was a happy one. She had captured his heart. He put his left arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close. She nestled into his chest, and James was all but lost in the tide of her breathing.

You aren’t a child, Wendy. You are a bad bitch.

Pathetic, Wendy.

So... don't lie to me, Wendy, darling. Because my heart won't survive if you do.

I’ll be seeing you, Wendy, darling.

Wendy, Michael is a delicious treat, and I can’t wait to enjoy every bite of it.

Swear... swear by the pirates' code!" Hook looked exasperated. Wendy put her hands on her hips. She knew about boys trying to sneak out of promises. She had two younger brothers. You had to be very specific with your orders and wishes, or they were as wily and untrustworthy as evil genies. And what was a pirate, really, but a boy grown, with a real sword and a mustache? "Swear it," she repeated. She could have sworn she heard muffled laughter from behind him on the deck. Hook sighed. All right, all right. I swear on the pirates' code: I, Captain Hook, promise that in return for Peter Pan's shadow I shall grant Wendy Darling passage to Never Land and home- when circumstances allow it.

Fifteen paid the penalty for their crimes that night; but two reached the shore: Starkey to be captured by the redskins, who made him nurse for all their papooses, a melancholy come-down for a pirate; and Smee, who henceforth wandered about the world in his spectacles, making a precarious living by saying he was the only man that Jas. Hook had feared. Wendy,

But I regret, with every fiber of my being, that for even one moment you suffered under my hands.” Her eyes widen, the beautiful shades of brown glossing over. “You are, without a doubt, the only good I’ve ever known.” I rest my forehead on hers, my shaky breaths ghosting across her lips, my thumb rubbing against her cheek. “So don’t lie to me, Wendy darling. Because my heart won’t survive it if you do.

Best Of Friends [Verse 1] I see Alaina in the distance Shouting out a word And she runs through persistence Oh, her mind is so absurd Oh love, oh love Jumping jolly until the end I wanna be your friend [Hook] I wanna be your best friend I don't want you to be my girl I wanna be your best friend I don't want you to be my… I don't want you to be my… [Verse 2] Well well well… I see witness Wendy Her short hair and her pistol boots Oh man, she's always ready To take that line and finally shoot Oh lord, oh lord Jumping jolly until the end I wanna be your friend [Hook x2]

Often, when tempted to peek into the drawer too early, Wendy could assuage her longing by pulling out the tiny notebook she always kept with her. It had a very slim blue pencil that perfectly fit down the spine, and was nearly full of her neat, enthusiastic words. Well-thumbed pages were titled with things like "Peter Pan and the Pirates and the Unexpected Zeppelin" or "Peter Pan and Tiger Lily versus the Cyclops of the Cerulean Sea." And she had illustrated "Captain Hook Is Taught A Timely Lesson by Peter Pan" with a little picture of a clock she had carefully copied from the mantel, as well as the eyes and nostrils of a fierce crocodile- the rest of whose body she had no hope of depicting accurately, and thus chose to submerge.

Nonviolence became a cultural ideal for Hindus precisely because it holds out the last hope of a cure, all the more desirable since unattainable, for a civilization that has, like most, always suffered from chronic and terminal violence. Non-violence is an ideal propped up against the cultural reality of violence. Classical Hindu India was violent in ways both shared with all cultures and unique to its particular time and place, in its politics (war being the raison d’être of every king); in its religious practices (animal sacrifice, ascetic self-torture, fire walking, swinging from hooks in the flesh of the back, and so forth); in its criminal law (impaling on stakes and the amputation of limbs being prescribed punishments for relatively minor offenses); in its hells (cunningly and sadistically contrived to make the punishment fit the crime); and, perhaps at the very heart of it all, in its climate, with its unendurable heat and unpredictable monsoons. Hindu sages dreamed of nonviolence as people who live all their lives in the desert dream of oases.

Here he comes,” Blake said. When Kaidan climbed the steps to the deck he came straight for me, his hair slicked back with sweat from running. He took my face in his hands, breathing hard, lips tight, eyes like blue blazes. “Don’t ever do that again,” he ground out. It took a second to process his words and remember what exactly I wasn’t supposed to do again. Then I recalled interfering. “I know it was dangerous,” I admitted, “but there were five of them—” “I can bloody well handle myself, Anna!” His hands flung away from my face. “Maybe if there were only a couple, but there were five pissed-off psychos with weapons! I couldn’t just stand there and watch!” Kaidan, exasperated, pivoted like he was going to walk away, raked his fingers through his hair, and turned to me again. “What did you think you could do?” he asked. “You got in a lucky shot when you racked him, but what if it hadn’t worked? As you saw today your mind powers don’t always work!” Ah. He had no idea what I was capable of now. I held a hand out. “Give me your knife.” His eyebrows went together. “What?” “Just give it to me.” I stepped closer, feeling edgy. “No, Anna, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but this is ridic—” My movements were fast as I went for him full force, using all my body weight and strength to hook a foot behind his knee and slam my palm into his shoulder. He landed on his back with a surprised oof and I crouched over him. “Give me your knife,” I said again. “Holy . . .” Blake let out a long whistle from where he watched at the rail. Kaidan lay there with a whimsical sort of look and said, “God, that was hot.” I held out my hand. This time he fished the knife from his waistband and placed the onyx handle in my palm. From my crouched position I momentarily eyed a wooden bird statue perched at the top of the deck rail twenty feet away, then let the cool metal fly from my fingers. It spun through the air with a sound like rapid wing beats, then a whump as it stuck into the side of the bird’s head. “Dude!” Blake yelled. Beneath me, where Kaidan lay, burst a vivid cloud of red so brief I wondered if I’d imagined it. I stared down at him in shock. “You showed your colors!” I said. “Did not.” He pushed himself up and we both stood. “You totally let ’em out, brah,” Blake told him with a grin. “Shut up.” When he peered down at me I said, “I’ve been training. I’m not completely helpless anymore.” “I can see that,” he murmured.

Beautiful,” he says. It’s one word, but it caresses me like velvet, my insides purring at his approval. “You too.” He smirks. “You think I’m beautiful?” His tone is playful, and it ignites that same foreign fire from the first night we met, when I wondered what it would feel like to be a different type of Wendy. My eyebrow quirks. “What, you think a man can’t have beauty?” “A man can have many things, darling.” He steps in closer. “But the only beauty I hope to have tonight is yours.

The greatest thing I've ever done in my life was to love you, Wendy Darling.

A whiff of vanilla spirals through my nose. Wendy.

Wendy has a soft spot for family.

I’m a very possessive man, Wendy. And I want you for myself.” His words should set alarm bells ringing, but all they do is stoke the flames of my passion, making it hard to breathe.

He drove a gray Honda CR-V and ate six Wendy’s Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers from the Drive-Thru Value Menu. He listened to a Spotify playlist of Ed Sheeran, Death Cab for Cutie, and Coldplay while driving exactly the speed limit with his fedora on the dashboard, hooked atop a plastic hat rack he’d purchased for $9.99 on Amazon.

Smee comes by silently to clear our plates, making Wendy jump in her chair. “Oh my god, I didn’t know anyone else was here.” I smirk. “That’s Smee. My first mate, if you will.” He smiles, his brown hair bouncing under his ridiculous red beanie as he inclines his head. “Pleasure, miss.” “First mate.” She giggles. “Like a pirate? Does that make you the captain?

So don’t lie to me, Wendy darling. Because my heart won’t survive it if you do.

Don’t say it,” I hiss, my stomach twisting until it tears. “Don’t you dare say it.” He smiles, and I swear to God the sight makes me want to die. “The greatest thing I’ve ever done in my life was to love you, Wendy, darling.

The greatest thing I've ever done in my life was to love you, Wendy, darling.

The photo already had its hooks in me.

It’s impossible not to care for you, Wendy. If it was, you’d already be dead.

Just remember that whenever things feel bleak, all situations are temporary. It’s not your circumstance that determines your worth, it’s how you rise from the ashes after everything burns.” 24 JAMES Ileave Wendy at her house with barely more than a goodbye, impatience snapping at my insides like a rubber band with every wasted second.

He already told you, didn’t he?” Wendy cocks her head. “He popped my cherry.

I know what a nice girl Wendy is, her purehearted innocence bleeding from her pores like oil, shiny and impossible to look away from. Maybe that's why she calls to me the way she does - the pitch-black parts of my soul aching for her light.

I’m a very possessive man, Wendy. And I want you for myself.

Only yours, James Barrie.' 'And always yours, Wendy, darling.' He kisses my jaw. 'Every night.' 'And straight on ‘til morning.

Only yours, James Barrie.' 'And always yours, Wendy darling.' He kisses my jaw. 'Every night.' 'And straight on ’til morning'.

I move to the front, knocking on the passenger window until it’s rolled down, taking in the nameplate of the driver, and lowering my voice so Wendy doesn’t hear. “Anything happens to her and there will be no corner of the earth that can hide you from me. Understand?

I pick up my hairbrush from the vanity next to me and point to my reflection. “You aren’t a child, Wendy. You are a bad bitch.” Giggling at the phrase, I run the bristles over my hair, repeating the affirmation in my mind.

He already told you, didn’t he?” Wendy cocks her head. “He popped my cherry.” Gasps sound around the table, and I choke on the liquid of my drink, my hand shooting to my chest to stifle the cough.

Don’t say it,” I hiss, my stomach twisting until it tears. “Don’t you dare say it.” He smiles, and I swear to God the sight makes me want to die. “The greatest thing I’ve ever done in my life was to love you, Wendy darling.

Failure to sleep with someone is now an act of hostility, whereas it was once understood to be part of the natural process of searching for one’s mate.

My gaze swings to the computer, watching the true object of my desire. And as Moira’s hot mouth surrounds my cock, slurping along the shaft and sucking me down her throat, my eyes stay locked on the cameras, imagining the day when I’ll have Wendy in her place. And I’ll make her choke on something truly filthy.

Wendy grabs my hand and places it over her heart, teeth nipping at my bottom lip. “Give it to me,” she whispers. I shake my head, my body trembling. “I don’t have anything to give.” Her mouth grazes along my jaw, pressing soft kisses to my skin. “So give me all your nothing,” she replies.

Only yours, James Barrie.” “And always yours, Wendy darling.” He kisses my jaw. “Every night.

Only yours, James Barrie.” “And always yours, Wendy darling.” He kisses my jaw. “Every night.” “And straight on ’til morning.

I’ve never done a drug in my life, but I imagine it feels similar to the way it does when Wendy courses through my veins.

I'm a very possessive man, Wendy. And I want you for myself.

Shortly after the dust settled on everything, Wendy attempted to get her job back at the Vanilla Bean, but they said no, citing the multiple times she failed to show. Which was my fault, really. So I bought it for her.

God, you're the sheriff, Dad," Shaw said low. "You're like, the president of McCook County or somethin'. People, they ..." He hesitated then forced out, "Know about you. About us. They pay attention and would even if you weren't the sheriff. But it's more because you're sheriff. And her? You just ..." He did a quick shake of his head. "Whatever and then scrape her off? Folks think you're like a god or something. And you're a dude and dudes get away with that crap. But her? She does hair. She's pretty and dresses cool, but she does hair. It isn't nice, the way it is, people givin' guys a pass on stuff like that, but it's not the same for girls. It's still the way it is. Wendy's hair is awesome so I know she's good at what she does. People are still only gonna think she does hair and Mom is who she is 'cause a' Gramps and Gran and Uncle Cook and Reed and you. And you're the sheriff. So they'll think you work, bein' with Mom. They'll also think. you hook up with her and scrape her off, she's nobody. She just does hair." <...> "Okay, so ... go listen to her sing. You don't have to take her home and bone her. Just be her friend. You're her friend, folks'll get her how it is and everyone will just settle into that. Not think she's just a hairdresser but also some slut or something that maybe other guys can have a go with and treat her the same way.

The greatest thing I’ve ever done in my life was to love you, Wendy darling.

Tell me you’re mine, Wendy darling.” “I’m yours,” she breathes.

• “sounding much more like himself and at the same time nothing like himself at all” 28 “Pray tell,” Michael echoed, smirking at John with the confidence of a man who has just been catapulted miraculously out of trouble by someone else who has had the misfortune of stumbling into it.” 45 “She lay on her simple cot and stared up at the bare ceiling, a thousand thoughts and memories swirling through her mind like a rainbow of glittering debutantes, each idea more enticing that the last, all jostling for her attention.”46 “She met his regard with a confident, upward tilt of her chin, and discovered in doing so that his eyes were the exact blue of the forget-me-not. This irked her considerably. It wasn’t right that such an indecent man should have such a memorable gaze.” 56 “Wendy knew, however, that sometimes the best way to win an argument was to not engage in it.” 63 “Michael was dressed for the occasion in a pair of tall black boots, polished to such a shine that they could have turned Medusa herself to stone if no mirrors were handy, and the coat was his very best—which is to say, the one upon which he received the most frequent compliments from the ladies.” 67 “He would have burned the entire report to ash and returned it to her in a snuff box, just to make a point, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.” 99 “Ever since the first time he had done so (which had been a bit of an accident), he had been practicing the move, trying to make it faster and even more heart-stopping every time and leaving knee-shaped depressions all across the southeastern fields of England.” 108 “Are you ready to come with me to the ship?” he asked, his voice more gentle than she had ever heard it.” 112 Contemplating the form of his [hook’s] punishment made for a welcome distraction. “Daily bootlicking at dawn. Literally,” he countered. “Followed by mornings of barnacle scraping, lunches of rock soup, afternoons of button polishing, and sea ration suppers.” 152 “I’m Lieutenant John Abbot.” John stressed the lieutenant bit, just for good measure. He knew Wendy had a predilection for science, and he found himself hoping that particular fondness did not extend equally to scientists.” 153 “She had waited so long and worked so hard to reach this place, to stand on the deck of this ship, that she hadn’t noticed how incredible her life had already become.” 169

• “Which was the moment when Hook first realized something about himself—something so surprising that even his glorious hair took issue with it, whipping him about his face with the force of a stiff wind and an even more righteous indignation. He actually wished he could give her the new ship.” 157 But this Peter—the Peter whose face wore the anger of the gods—he was unknown to them, and they saw immediately the danger they were in. 190 “And where will you be going?” the Norseman asked. He tucked his bow behind his shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest, as though riding on the shoulders of a winged man was the most natural thing in the world. “Me?” Wendy grinned. “One does not keep one’s commission by standing around in a London office staring at maps on the wall.

And always yours, Wendy, darling." He kisses my jaw. "Every night." "And straight on 'til morning.

I've never done a drug in my life, but I imagine it feels similar to the way it does when Wendy courses through my veins.

Only yours, James Barrie.” “And always yours, Wendy, darling.” He kisses my jaw. “Every night.” “And straight on ‘til morning.

My issue now is Wendy makes me lose that precious control. And that’s never happened before.

Lire la pièce, le roman, les récits liés aux contrées imaginaires, à plusieurs moments de son existence, c’est recevoir cet univers d’une façon différente en fonction de son âge : enfant, on se retrouve dans le héros éponyme, on aspire ardemment à être lui ou à vivre de merveilleuses aventures en sa compagnie ; adolescent, on comprend progressivement l’importance de Wendy, l’acceptation des responsabilités, de grandir ; adulte, il y a cette menace de finir comme Hook, rongé par l’amertume, la colère, l’indifférence et l’envie, désireux d’une jeunesse que l’on ne possédera plus… Le capitaine représente le risque de finir seul et aigri, la menace de l’adulte au sens le plus néfaste du terme. L'auteure sur Peter Pan de J.M Barrie

Wendy Michael is a delicious treat, and I can’t wait to enjoy every bite of it.

Wendy.” He looked at me and I saw a chasm as empty as the depths of the sea. “I don't have any happy thoughts.” The windows in the surrounding rooms shattered, glass skittering across the rain and blood-soaked wood. Fear crawled up my throat. Hands and arms shot through the space. Shit. There were a lot of them, and trained or not, under Pan's power, they'd keep coming until they overwhelmed me and Hook. I needed to get him in the air. The wind howled, and I dropped onto the porch, a raging desperation in my chest. I grasped his overcoat and jerked him close. “Then let me give you one.” Rising onto my toes, I pressed my lips to his.

I never thought I would have this. A family. A life. But then Wendy swept through with her unfailing loyalty and her selfless way of forgiving even the worst of mistakes, and she showed me that even the most damaged of hearts can still learn to love.

Hook wanted to bring Wendy home. But Wendy wanted Pan.