J Cole Quotes

The bad news is nothing lasts forever, The good news is nothing lasts forever.

You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe.

If you're going to have delusions, you might as well go for the really satisfying ones.

Contrary to general belief, stars don’t twinkle. There is only one star that sparkles that scientists can agree on. It twinkles so bright, sometimes people mistake it for a UFO. It’s not big, but it stands out. That’s Sirius, and it’s also you. You shine, Baby LeBlanc. So fucking bright sometimes you’re the only thing I see.” - Dean "Ruckus" Cole

I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much that I hated you for a while. And now that I know that you are damaged, I love you even more. Perfect things are not relatable. Unbreakable is fascinating, but not lovable. You’re breakable, Dean Cole. I’m going to do my best to keep you whole.

Goody Two-shoes Evie Greene got herself pickled, for true. If I'd known you were such a juvenile delinquent, I might've asked for a new history podna." "Juvenile delinquent? Hmm. Aren't your initials J.D.? If the shoe fits...

You’re breakable, Dean Cole. I’m going to do my best to keep you whole.

Broken?" I laughed. "Nah, princess. I'm a shattered fucking mess.

When you refuse to pay your dues to love, sometimes the price goes up. There’s an inflation, and you end up losing more than you’d bargained.

Forever starts now, Baby Leblanc. With you.

You only get one life, Luna. One stab at this thing called happiness. Why deprive yourself of things you want just because they weren’t given to you the way you hoped for them to come?

This is better than a romance novel." P.J. said with a wistful sigh. "You read that stuff?" Cole demanded. "Why the hell do you ask the question like that?" P.J. said, annoyance evident in her tone and expression. "You just didn't seem the type," Cole mumbled. She flipped him the bird, and Shea had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. P.J. was easily half Cole's size but she also looked like she had the confidence to take on the much larger man. She might even kick his ass. The idea intrigued Shea greatly. "I'm tempted to shove one of my romance novels up your ass." P.J. said sharply. "But I love my books too much to desecrate them like that, I'll settle for my boot." Cole held up his hands in surrender. "I won't say another word. Romance novels are great. I love romance novels. I think everyone should read them.

Dean ‘Ruckus’ Cole was a different kind of asshole to Baron ‘Vicious’ Spencer. He fucked you over with a polite smile on his face. In that sense, he was the Joker. In his mix of confidence, cockiness, good looks, and money, there was a dash of insanity thrown in. Enough to let you know that he meant every word he said.

when you lose the person who gave you life, part of you dies along with them.

I hadn't talked to myself in a while, but then again, I was all alone. I was my only true supporter. And loneliness is a bitch.

He's probably crying while listening to Halsey on repeat like a little bitch." ~Knight Cole~

Impulsively, she leaned across the truck and kissed him on the cheek. He glanced over in surprise when she pulled away, but pleasure glowed in his eyes. "What was that for?" "Just seemed like the thing to do," she said. "Well, feel free to do it more often," he encouraged. "I assure you I won't mind.

When death can’t stand to conquer something, you know it must be beautiful.

Funny how well-rehearsed you can become at being who everyone thinks you should be.

What makes you feel alive? Dean. Dean Cole makes me feel alive.

Not to be impolite, but you guys bore me to death. Cole, go tell Vaughn to come here.” Busy scanning the room for Luna, Knight’s neck is still cranned as he answers her. “Damn.” He pats the pockets of his jeans, then checks the pockets of his golden Gucci jacket. “I can’t find it.” “Can’t find what?” Esme blinks. “The memo where I started taking orders from your sorry ass.

I feel a brush over my arm where Penn stood just a second ago. It's Knight. And next to Knight stands Vaughn. 'Cole?' Gus twists his lips, glowering. 'What the fuck?' Knight clasps a hand on my shoulder, hitching a shoulder up while lighting a joint. 'The fuck is, you don't fuck with my family and integrity and assume you get out of it in one piece. Or, you know, at all.

be with a guy that ruins your lipstick not your mascara,

It's ironic that a hundred people can talk to you, and it really does nothing besides piss you the hell off. But then one person, one person, can fucking make the difference.

He wasn't Sirius. He was planet Earth. He was oxygen. He was everything.

Because your pain is my pain, Anika. I can’t take it away, but I’ll wear it with you.

Now that I know that it can only ever be you, you're going to get better for me so Earth won't explode. Can you do that, Sirius?

I'm turning my back on Vaughn and Knight without saying goodbye because I know they won't let me go. They'll promise to protect me and fight my battles at school, and a part of me still wants that to happen.

Knight and Vaughn are the closest to each other, practically brothers, which is weird because they are also like fire and ice. Vaughn is a crazy artist with psychotic tendencies, and Knight is the definition of a popular jock. One is Edward Scissorhands; the other is Zac Efron's prettier long-lost brother.

In life, there were no rewrites, no edits. Only painful rereads.

Can’t stop taking my eyes off you. Can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop wanting you. What are you doing to me?

We lived love. A love so tragic and beautiful that it's only fitting it doesn't have a happily ever after.

It took me an hour to know you, and only a day to fall in love, but it will take me a lifetime to forget you.

Life changes and molds you with every breath. Death has a way of forcing you to re-evaluate decisions, and fate has a way of shoving your face into everything you've lost.

We're all broken.

Caregivers had to take care of themselves, and part of that meant having a life beyond whatever illness had put them in their cole.

I am different. I am FUCKING DIFFERENT!

Knight is gorgeous, and not only does he know it, but he would also advertise it on a billboard if it were possible.

What does Miss LeBlanc have that the rest of the human population doesn't?' 'My heart, Sue,' I said. 'She has my heart.

Love is tragic. Love is painful and brutal, but above all, within true love, there is a beauty matched by nothing else. And what truly is tragic is to never love someone the way I love you.

Prichard's got too much to lose. He can't touch us.' 'Can anyone?' Penn wonders aloud, just as Trent's door opens from the other side. Dean whistles for him to get outside, swinging my baseball bat and parking it over his shoulder. 'Maybe God,' I answer curtly. 'Even that's debatable.' Dean snickers.

Because people always let you down.” She hesitated for a second. “Human connection is a lie we tell ourselves we need. We don’t need anyone but ourselves, and it’s best that way.” Even for me, that was fucking sad. “You want to be alone then?”  The papers rustled when she flipped them. “I just want something real.

I love you, Knight Cole. More than anything. Maybe even more than myself. But I don’t trust you with my heart. And when you hurt me like this, I feel little and vindictive. So vindictive, you shouldn’t trust me with yours. Whatever it is, we need to kill it before it kills us, you understand? We can’t be together.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

He was pungently masculine and intimidating in his looks, but that was not what made me recognize him immediately. It was what rolled off of him in dangerous quantities, the menace and ruggedness. He was a dark knight made of coarse material. Cruel in his silence and punishing in his confidence. I'd only met him once, at a barbecue at Dean Cole's house a few weeks ago, and we hadn't spoken a word to each other. He hadn't spoken a word to anyone. Trent Rexroth.

I start to turn, but stop and lean back over the table, snatching the Snickers bar and placing it in front of her. “Just saying.” I see Humphrey cover his mouth, clearly getting my joke about the commercial. ‘You’re not yourself when you’re hungry.’ Cole reaches for my arm and nearly pulls me out of the room. Once the door is closed, he bursts out laughing.

He takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine. He raises them to his mouth, kissing our joined hands. Tears stream down my face as I take in that he’s actually standing right here in front of me. My Cole, my love, my reason for living is back.

Fiction was the only way I stayed sane. But I didn't read romances or fairy tales. Nope. I looked for the gritty, the perverse. The dark. Because those kinds of stories gave me hope that there were far worse things in life than what I was dealing with.

Aric told me I should give my blessing to you and Jack.” She snorted. “You can bless us all you want, but it’s not happening.” I frowned at her. “You told me things had changed between you two.” “Yeah. As in, I made peace with the fact that I’ll never be with him. It was a done thing between you two before I ever came into the picture.” “Why are you so sure?” “After he heard you didn’t want to have anything to do with him, J.D. took it bad—like head in his hands, pulling out his hair. So we got wasted together. I told him how I felt about him, and I tried to kiss him.” Jealousy scored me. “And do you know what he did?” I held my breath. “He pushed me away, telling me that the people of his mother’s blood fall in love once. They pray they get it right—because it can’t be changed. He told me his mother loved his father, unrequited, and nineteen years of misery couldn’t shake it.

Everybody's broken, chipped, damaged, and we just have to find the one person that can accept our flaws and love them, the one that can take the ugliest part of us and paint something beautiful with it. When you find the person who can create hope and breathe life into you - that's the person you can't let get away.

you sound like a tool, why don’t you just tell her she’s your fucking lobster and get it over with, hang yourself with your 12-inch nerd rope.

Talon on a balcony and cause a seen with Justin by the pool—and see, now he’ll think it’s Tori that’s behind this—

experienced,” Rob J. said.

J'ai pleuré pour celui que j'avais tant amé. Pleuré pour notre histoire aussi belle et éphémère que les fleurs de cerisier

Elle était à moi, et j'étais à elle

Je ne veux pas te perdre, je ne te laisserai pas partir. Je te suivrai, où que tu ailles. J'ai essayé de vivre sans toi. C'est impossible

You can hurt me in ways no one else can. You won’t ever need a dagger for it, Davina. Without lifting a finger, you could break and shatter me completely.

As much as you may want to, you can’t make yourself love someone, and as much as it sucks, you can’t make yourself not love someone either. Love is its own fucking beast.

Addicts say there is never a high as great as that first time, and it’s the same with love.

York spoke to her.” Keith makes a face as Cole's expression hardens.

Cause you a star—no, not the type that snort the white lines I mean the type to light the night time

If I accept you as you are, I will make you worse; however if I treat you as though you are what you are capable of becoming, I help you become that.

That's what life is, a series of fuck-ups and what you make of 'em.

You're my perfectly flawed, shattered fucking mess.

You've always been my exception to everything.

Depression. It’s a pain in the ass.

Fucking is like a fine art, and it’s a shame more men don’t treat it as such.

Jace Matthews may have shattered my heart, but Cole Maguire has rebuilt it.

In a world full of entitled victims, greed perverts the occurrence of misfortune, and the trivialization of tragedy becomes the status quo.

Nothing lasts forever, but at least we got these memories

Being a sadist doesn’t make you an asshole. All that it means is that I derive pleasure from someone else’s pain.

Because Knight refuses to win the game. Penn is trying to kill Las Juntas' chance to win so he can save me, but Knight doesn't let him because he knows he deserves it.

The sky was full of stars against all odds. You couldn't really see shit from The Strip, but that night, you could. You could because she was there.

There won't be a next Rosie. And there won't be another story like ours. This is it, Rose LeBlanc. And this is us. If there is no you, then there is no me.

Then everyone who knows you is wrong, Cole. Your heart isn’t cold. It’s warm, and it’s beautiful. You just keep it on ice so nobody can melt it.

I don't have friends. I talk to people when I have to. I smile. I do the socially acceptable thing and tolerate people when I'm at work. But no one gets in my personal space. I don't need anybody!

Mom and Dad clap. Bailey jumps up and down. Knight gives us a thumbs-up, and Vaughns rolls his eyes but smiles. Luna, Addy, Harper, and Camilo look at us likek they've won something. Happy in our happiness. And that's what good friends and families do. They pick you up and pull you out of the mud of your own mistakes. And when you're not the best version of yourself? Well, they're still there, waiting, because we're all fucking human.

I never got over you either," I ocnfess, and he draws in a deep breath. "It's because I never would let you go. You felt that, didn't you?" He presses a soft kiss to my lips. "Pienso en ti siempre." I think of you always.

Sometimes we make a mistake that can never be undone. We hurt people we never intend to hurt, and it isn't until years later we realize that although we hurt them, letting them go was the kindest thing we could have done.

It wasn't my place to stop you. You had another guy's ring on your finger. It wasn't my fucking place!" He snatches my hand up, shoving my wedding ring in my face. "The moment you put this ring on your finger, you were no longer mine.

Find something to help you accept reality. Because after all, that's where the pain's come from - from reality.Find something good, something magnificent, find you something meaningful to fill that hole that's ate you up on the inside.

As much as we want to pretend we’re in control of our lives, we aren’t. Control is a pretty façade we dance behind to make it through each day, because when you really accept that you aren’t in charge of your own fate, it makes you feel trapped.

I always had a soft spot for this girl, and it seemed like the more she hated me, the more I wanted to prove to her that it was always us. That if I believed in that bullshit of two people who were meant to be with each other, it was because we actually were.

When I said I’ve always wanted you, I meant all of you: your body, your ideas, your memories, your whole heart. I want your dreams, your spare drawer, your mornings, your worries. Your triumphs, your laughter, your bad nights and your quiet days. I want your future, Ren.... just so we’re clear." Cole

The real danger is found in Humanity’s refusal to move beyond the trap of instinct and into the intellectual mind. The refusal to accept our health and the health of every other living thing on this planet must always come before profit. Whether it’s the oil companies, pharmaceutical companies; or anyone else; we are not Gods no matter how much the New Agers like to proclaim it. In that path lies the rubble of the enemy of life, his Fallen God Bombers and his murderous dark medics. Out of that emanates the force of fear; fear of judgement, fear of difference and fear the other will bring you pain.

You mean Savi is on that plane by herself?” “Let it go,” Daniel warns. “No! Someone should be with her. She’s facing The American and Lynn! Cole, you should be there, not hiding behind your desk.” Cole drops the thick folder, making John jump. “You don’t think I want to be there, Mark? You don’t think it’s turning me inside out that my girl is a state away and only an arm’s length from the people who tried to kill her? I was ordered to stay behind and do my job. I was ordered to leave for Mexico when all I want to do is be in that courtroom with her. I’m not hiding. I’m following orders since I didn’t last time.

Deep down inside, I'm a selfish bastard, but I'm a selfish bastard that will love her in ways no other man ever will. She has been mine since that first day in English class, since the first time I kissed her and told her I loved her. And really, it's not my fault another man fell in love with the woman whose heart belongs to me.

This hurts because I love her when I should have learned to hate her. You never fall in love with someone having the thought that one day you'll need to hate them, but you see, the consequence of loving someone more than they love you is hate. You have to learn to hate them or they will strip your soul fucking bare when they leave you.

Maybe I shouldn’t roll over and let her have him so easily. I recalled how possessive I’d been about Brandon. I thought of what Mel would say: “Stop being a puss and take your toy back. What are you—minced meat?” Selena asked him, “Will you say back there again?” He complied. With his accent, it sounded like a rumbly bag dare. “Cajun is sooo hawt, J.D.

La vie est belle, Rune ! J'aimerais que tout le monde s'en rende compte. Pourquoi faut-il frôler la mort pour en prendre conscience ? Pourquoi attendons nous de manquer de temps pour accomplir nos rêves ? Pourquoi ne regarde-t-on pas celui qu'on aime comme si c'était la dernière fois qu'on le voyait ? Si c'était le cas, notre vie serait tellement plus belle, tellement plus intense.

Mike’s eyebrows rose. “What did Cole say when you asked him about Lloth?” Raven wrung her hands in her apron. “Raven?” Mike growled. “We got…” She looked away and heat crept up her neck. “Distracted.” Mike groaned. “Are you kidding me? If you were in a horror movie, you’d be the one who’d jump in the serial killer’s truck.” “That’s not fair. While I admit, I occasionally have brain farts—” “Raven. Your brain doesn’t fart. It completely shits itself.” “That’s

From The Ghost Wars- on the concept of the Torah as ancient science fiction. “Take the story of the fall of the tower of Babel. Let’s say this represents not an act of God, nor a metaphor for this planet’s diverse linguistic heritage; but a catastrophic act of terrorism by the Divisionists to sever mankind from the neural net. The internet in this situation becomes mankind’s attempt to build a physical replacement for a natural ability long lost. Think of it as a wooden leg or a pacemaker.

But the mind always wants more than it has– one more bright day of sun, one more clear night in bed with the moon; one more hour to get the words right; one more chance for the heart in hiding to emerge from its thicket in dried grasses–as if this quiet day with its tentative light weren’t enough, as if joy weren’t strewn all around. — Holly J. Hughes, from “Mind Wanting More,” Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems, eds. Phyllis Cole-Dai & Ruby R. Wilson (Grayson Books, 2017)

Despite his failings she couldn’t shun Nathanael, she was too fond of fleshly delight. He kept her belly large, pumping her full of child as soon as she was emptied, and whenever she was nearing term he avoided their home. Their life conformed almost exactly to the dire predictions made by her father when, with Rob J. already in her, she had married the young carpenter who had come to Watford to help build their neighbor’s barn. Her father had blamed her schooling, saying that education filled a woman with lascivious folly

Fuck you, Cole McCord! You don’t get to tell me how to live my life! You don’t get to tell me who to love! And I don’t care if you don’t want me anymore, I still want you, and I always will! You dumb, stubborn man, your worth doesn’t depend on your legs or your dick or any of your other body parts. And I’m sorry this happened, God fucking knows I am, but sometimes life is shitty, and the only choice we have is to make the best of it! We don’t give up. Not on life, and not on each other. And I swear to God, if you give up on us, I’ll never forgive you. So get your head straight. When I said I belonged to you, that meant forever. Like it or not, I’m yours!

A woman by the name of Terry Cole-Whittaker wrote an incredible book entitled What You Think of Me is None of My Business. This title bears remembering and repeating every day because, regardless of the goals, intentions, and dreams you aspire to, there will always be someone to shower you with negativity. They might tell you that it can't be done, that you'll never achieve it, or that you lack the ability or intelligence. They might even laugh at you because of your optimism. Regardless of the person, if you run with a crowd that doesn't support your goals and intentions, you might want to get away from them as soon as possible. Their presence in your life will kill your attitude, smother your energy, and snuff out your dreams. If you can't get away from them, before you allow them affect you, keep in mind that the influence and power they have over you is what you allow it to be.

Your future refuses to behave.” Coo-yôn yanked off the jacket he’d sourced for me. Up was down. Then he stepped back. And released me— I toppled over, falling out of my seat onto the ground. Was the sosie dumping me on the side of the road? ’Cause I was about to die? “Now, let’s just talk . . . ’bout this, coo-yôn.” He caught hold of my good ankle, then dragged me farther away from the truck. He’d hauled me into . . . a bank of snow. Jack and I had marveled at the snow. I spun in circles as flakes fell, dizziness overwhelming me. I’d known this was going to send me spiraling. Gasping for breath, I collapsed, tears streaking down my face. I lay in the snow and lifted my hand to the sky. Flakes landed on my damp face. Each one was a cool kiss good-bye. Lying in that bank of snow, I gazed up at the falling flakes. They drifted over my face. Soft, soft. Like Evie’s lips. With effort, I lifted my scarred hand to the sky. I closed my eyes and pretended my Evangeline was caring for me. J’ai savouré. I savored each cold kiss. . . .

The Hunter: “Your future refuses to behave.” Coo-yôn yanked off the jacket he’d sourced for me. Up was down. Then he stepped back. And released me— I toppled over, falling out of my seat onto the ground. Was the sosie dumping me on the side of the road? ’Cause I was about to die? “Now, let’s just talk . . . ’bout this, coo-yôn.” He caught hold of my good ankle, then dragged me farther away from the truck. He’d hauled me into . . . a bank of snow. _______________ The Empress: I’d thought the sight of snow—and all the emotions it brought—would make me less likely to be with Aric. Just the opposite; because I could see my future so clearly. If he died before I did, some symbol—like snow—would mark the end of his existence. Later I would experience that waypoint (because everything was connected) and wish to God I’d taken a different path. I decided then that I would map my own journey and mark my own waypoints. The snow would symbolize both the end of one story and the beginning of another. A new slate. But not a blank one. The red ribbon would be a cherished remembrance, but I wouldn’t keep it with me at all times. I lay in the snow and lifted my hand to the sky. Flakes landed on my damp face. Each one was a cool kiss good-bye. _____________ The Hunter Lying in that bank of snow, I gazed up at the falling flakes. They drifted over my face. Soft, soft. Like Evie’s lips. With effort, I lifted my scarred hand to the sky. I closed my eyes and pretended my Evangeline was caring for me. J’ai savouré. I savored each cold kiss. . . .

When Rob J. had prepared for citizenship he’d studied the United States Constitution and marveled at its provisions. Now he saw that the genius of those who had written the Constitution was that it foresaw man’s weakness of character and the continuing presence of evil in the world, and sought to make individual freedom the legal reality to which the country had to return again and again.

must stress, in conclusion,’ said the man standing in front of the nearly two hundred UN representatives, speaking from behind the marble-faced lectern, ‘that direct Iranian involvement in this unspeakable attack has yet to be proved to any measurable degree. And yet our cities are being bombed, and our people are already being