Jade West Quotes

The sun is a joke. Oranges can’t titillate their jaded palates. Nothing can ever be violent enough to make taut their slack minds and bodies.

Their boredom becomes more and more terrible. They realize that they’ve been tricked and burn with resentment. Every day of their lives they read the newspapers and went to the movies. Both fed them on lynchings, murder, sex crimes, explosions, wrecks, love nests, fires, miracles, revolutions, war. This daily diet made sophisticates of them. The sun is a joke. Oranges can’t titillate their jaded palates. Nothing can ever be violent enough to make taut their slack minds and bodies. They have been cheated and betrayed. They have slaved and saved for nothing.

People only see what they want to see, and they only do whatever they want to do. You can make excuses for them all you like, but you’ll always be making excuses for them,

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. Norman Cousins

Love is love, David. Commitment is commitment. Integrity and consideration and communication, honesty and genuine care, compassion, support… those are the things that make a worthwhile relationship, whether that’s two people, or three people, or ten people.

This is it... why I’m here... what I crave... The beautiful rhythm of pain is the only beat that consumes me. My only release. I need this.

I smile because someone found me in the darkness and didn’t try to switch the light on.

He’d fit. They’d fit. Surely. Definitely. Hopefully. I mean, you can push a whole fucking baby out of that hole, right? Right? But

My journey has taught me to use my energy in a positive way. Don’t angst, don’t stress and don’t worry. The shit that’s going to happen is going to happen anyway.

Don’t hide under a rock all your life complaining you can’t see the sun.

Love has to be free. Alive like a butterfly, not pinned to a mount like the specimens I’ve been keeping for so long.

All hellos ultimately have their goodbyes. And all goodbyes hurt so much harder if the love they are founded on is so damn strong. Still, all hellos with people you love are worth it. They are all worth their weight in gold.

You’re mine in this place, Cat. Mine to command, mine to control, mine to protect. You will give yourself to me.

Keep calm and carry the fuck on; smile through the pain like strong little Lydia always does.

one day someone’s going to come along who’ll hug you so tight that all of your broken pieces will fit back together again.

Nothing like the zone, is there? Finding your groove and letting the muse steal you away.

But you can’t save other people, no matter how much you want to. People will always walk their own path, dance with their own demons.

I used to think dreams were constant and unchanging, that they’d last a lifetime. Maybe some dreams do. Maybe others ebb and flow, dull and fade to be replaced by others. Maybe some dreams return from the ashes.

I don’t need to drape myself over a woman to show she belongs to me. It’s all in the eyes. In hers, in mine. If a woman truly belongs to you it’s written all over her. She smells of it. It’s in her smile. In the flutter of her lashes. In the way her body pulls towards yours, like a magnet. A charge.

It’s in controlling someone else’s pleasure that the real man finds his own.

Insanity is knowing that what you’re doing is completely idiotic, but still, somehow, you just can’t stop it. Elizabeth Wurtzel

She raised her eyebrows, gripping her ice-cream by the shaft of the glass to take another spoonful. Firm grip. Nice fingers.

It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog. Mark Twain

I smile because a stranger asked a simple question, and then he heard me.

The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore. Vincent Van Gogh

He’s tugging my soul from the depths and holding tight. He’s whispering in every dark corner of my mind.

For me my sexuality was no biggie, I just liked what I liked, loved who I loved.

Maybe a little darkness will turn us both back toward the light.

Lydia Marsh, I think we have us a pain slut. Maybe Cinderella shall go to the ball after all.

Reading time was the only time I ever truly allowed myself.

Love is love,

He doesn’t know how, does he? Doesn’t know how to fuck your little asshole raw... Doesn’t know how to stretch you all the way open... until you’re riding his fist like a wanton fucking whore and grunting for more... Ever had a tongue deep in your ass, Lydia Marsh? Ever had someone force their fist all the way inside you? Ever pissed down someone’s throat while they tongue your greedy little slit? Have you ever been hurt, Lydia? Really hurt? Anyone ever fucked you up? Slapped your tight little cunt until you cry? Ever gagged on cock until you puke, Lydia Marsh? Ever seen your titties swell purple? Ever choked for breath until the world turns black? I’ll make it feel good for you, Lydia, it’ll feel so fucking good. I’ll make you squirt all over my filthy fucking fingers.

She was an innocent young woman and, while she was not jaded or tainted by the world yet, she possessed an open wound that would fester. Already it was riddled with the maggots of fear. If she wasn’t careful, that fear would control her life.

Inside Jade Hall is a curtain of pearls behind it lives a graceful girl her beauty transcends the immortals her skin is like that of a peach spring mists rise in the east autumn winds stir in the west thirty years from now she’ll look like chewed sugarcane

His eyes eat me up but I hold mine firm. The darkness there takes my breath. My demons wave at his, and I swear they wave back. I feel the ghost of a shiver up my spine. My whole body wants him to wrestle me into his truck and drive me away. “Goodbye, Cinderella,” he says and my heart stutters.

Butts are for spanking, not for speaking

Our failures are always our own. Own them, change them, demand more from yourself than a pat on the back and a better luck next time.

That's always been the plan, Cat, to keep it all separate. The chimera is my embodiment of my lifestyle choice; one body, two creatures.

Even a monster can be a gentleman,” he says.

Unforgiveness is like drinking poison yourself and waiting for the other person to die. Marianne Williamson

You underestimate the savage seas of female emotion,

Hope was more often than not a false high that led to a greater low.

There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it. Edith Wharton

I couldn’t take the flipside of the very same coin. The flatness, and the disappointment and the nothing. Because that’s what this was now, my life with Liam. It was nothing.

Fun. I was becoming ever more familiar with the concept since the Chloe whirlwind slammed into my world.

it was crazy, just how a hello, stranger on the train can turn into something that sets your life on a whole new road.

I guess that’s fate, though, isn’t it? It rocks into your world and taps its magic wand and there you are, staring out at a horizon that blows your mind.

A bigger deal to you than Lydia is, clearly,” she snapped. “And that’s the fucking saddest thing of all. Just leave her alone now, James, please. You’ve fucking broken her.

You are so fucking beautiful, Cat,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “So fucking beautiful.

Sometimes in life you have to let people take care of you. Sometimes you have to accept that people want to help, want to be there for you. Not

I was surviving Carl Brooks. I was loving Rick Warner. And

Every moment truly is magical, just so long as your eyes aren’t blind to the wonders.

His eyes eat me up but I hold mine firm. The darkness there takes my breath. My demons wave at his, and I swear they wave back.

I wanted to believe I didn’t take a breath of her soft hair and didn’t thrill at the way she smelled of apple shampoo and innocence.

I do love them dirty.

We want a companion, not a whore.

I wanted him to like me, so that she’d like me. Because he was important.

But it was something. It was something to me. She was something to me.

The legal Puppet Master pulling the strings of the dirty elite. Just who is Alexander James Henley Jnr?

That hungry little cunt spreads for nothing but my word from here on in, do you understand me? I said butts are for spanking, but spanking will be the least of your concerns. I’ll tan your ass so hard you’ll fucking scream for mercy

How good it made them feel, these well-meaning Upper West Side transplants, buying organic produce they didn't even have to wash from a handsome black man who would greet them with an exotic fist bump! An attractive, articulate chap, not unlike the young senator from Illinois they had just congratulated themselves for nominating, who would show the world that slavery was behind us and that we could appreciate Hip Hop. Yes! So many pretty boxes to check all at once!

And that’s what I’m really scared of. Of loving someone as much as this so quickly. Because if I can love him this much already, when I don’t even know him, not really, how much am I going to love him when I’m used to him being my everything?

On the contrary,” I said. “You’re making sense. Perfect abstract sense. You’re talking about intuition, and instinct, and that ethereal perception of the world us artists are often blessed with.” I smiled. “Or cursed. It depends how you look at it.

I love milkshake. It’s the best.” I can’t resist, not when I see her hollow cheeks as she sucks in rapture, her eyelashes fluttering as she takes a greedy mouthful. “I’m glad you think so,” I tell her. “Because Daddy’s got a milkshake of his own to give you later.

the little siren in my woman that craved a man strong enough in bed to drag her ashore and claim her as she thrashed on the sand. She was ripe to be exposed, loving the kind of growled out instructions which set her free from her well-ordered brain and her perfect manners.

As her defences crumbled and opened her up to my touch, so the quiet desires of her deepest filthy soul would be there for the taking. Claiming that shadowy side of her blossoming sexuality would be the ultimate prize, and the one that would leave her raw and desperate in the aftermath, an addict craving more.

It’s always such an error of judgement on their part. They invariably think that Rick is the nice one. The safe one. And while Rick is both of those things, he’s also a dirty, kinky little freak who’s easily as brutal as me in the right conditions. Stretching is his thing, stretching and body fluids, and boundary-pushing filth.

You like that?” I teased. “Like the way he fucks her mouth?” She nodded, so slightly it was almost unperceivable. “Ever had someone use you like that, Cat? Choke you up real fucking good?” She shook her head. “That’s going to change real soon, my sweet little Cat’s eyes, you’re going to retch on my cock until you’re fucking sick.

I love you, and I love Rick. I love both of you. I love both of you together, and both of you as just yourself. Sometimes I’ll want to love Rick, and sometimes I’ll want to love you, and sometimes, most of the time, I’ll want to love you both together.” I let him digest my words. “And sometimes I’ll want you to love each other without me. That’s how three should work,

Every day of their lives they read the newspapers and went to the movies. Both fed them on lynchings, murder, sex crimes, explosions, wrecks, love nests, fires, miracles, revolutions, war. This daily diet made sophisticates of them. The sun is a joke. Oranges can't titillate their jaded palates. Nothing can ever be violent enough to make taut their slack minds and bodies. They have been cheated and betrayed. They have slaved and saved for nothing. Tod

All their lives they had slaved at some kind of dull, heavy labor, behind desks and counters, in the fields and at tedious machines of all sorts, saving their pennies and dreaming of the leisure that would be theirs when they had enough. Finally that day came. They could draw a weekly income of ten or fifteen dollars. Where else should they go but California, the land of sunshine and oranges? Once there, they discover that sunshine isn’t enough. They get tired of oranges, even of avocado pears and passion fruit. Nothing happens. They don’t know what to do with their time. They haven’t the mental equipment for leisure, the money nor the physical equipment for pleasure. Did they slave so long just to go to an occasional Iowa picnic? What else is there? They watch the waves come in at Venice. There wasn’t any ocean where most of them came from, but after you’ve seen one wave, you’ve seen them all. The same is true of the airplanes at Glendale. If only a plane would crash once in a while so that they could watch the passengers being consumed in a “holocaust of flame,” as the newspapers put it. But the planes never crash. Their boredom becomes more and more terrible. They realize that they’ve been tricked and burn with resentment. Every day of their lives they read the newspapers and went to the movies. Both fed them on lynchings, murder, sex crimes, explosions, wrecks, love nests, fires, miracles, revolutions, wars. Their daily diet made sophisticates of them. The sun is a joke. Oranges can’t titillate their jaded palates. Nothing can ever be violent enough to make taut their slack minds and bodies. They have been cheated and betrayed. They have slaved and saved for nothing.

I’ll take you home,” I say, and my words are simple, obvious. I’m surprised when she follows me to the passenger door of the Merc and slips into the seat without hesitation, but she seems dazed somehow. Naïve, maybe. Maybe that’s what got her into this mess in the first place. I suspect as much. Young, naïve and vulnerable. No way should she be out alone this late at night. No way should she be here, in this shithole part of Brighton. I feel the anger, at some unknown parents who should be worried sick, parents who should have taught her more fucking sense. A father who should be driving around looking for his daughter, who should be protecting her from pieces of shit like that fucking waster back there. I ignore the twitch in my jaw. Push aside that feeling. She needs a ride home. Just a ride home.

Fuck no-one you know, and know no-one you fuck.

It’s lazy,” I laughed. “Hiding behind a smokescreen of interest to detract attention away from yourself.

And then he gives you to a whole host of filthy fucking strangers to do the same. However they want it. Whenever they want it. As many times as they fucking want it until the sixty days are done

But I did need to hear this shit. I’d never needed to hear something so bad in my life

It is him that you want! He’s exactly what you want by then! Enough to drive you fucking crazy. Drive you out of your fucking mind! Because he’s a god in this world. A fucked-up fucking god who steals your fucking soul and leaves you begging for more. But you can’t. You can’t let yourself go there. You’d never fucking survive if you saw him again

People crave order

If only I believed love fucking existed, I may well have believed her

Love doesn’t exist, sweetheart. It’s a sorry fucking illusion and nothing more

What point is there to anything if you don’t have love

Offering the bones of her very fucking soul, even if she didn’t know how to give it

She was a dirty little angel breaking before me. Her cries were a slice of the divine

She was grinding in mere seconds, bucking against my mouth like a whore gone wild

Kneeling mute with my dick throbbing worse than a priest’s at a nunnery

I hated the noises I made. Hated the noises her needy little ways had drawn from me. Hated my desperation. My hunger. My own fucking dick for its lack of control

What financial reward would you require in exchange for sixty days of absolute servitude

I’d done my best to stop. Done my best to stay good. Done my best to ignore the calling of pain, and filthy words, and humiliation. The thought of being taken by a man who’d claim my body as his. Completely. Who’d take away my choices, my inhibitions, my reservations. And I’d like it

The mirror said I’d do. I hoped the mirror was telling the truth

I want you on your knees, pleading for a mouth jammed full of cock. I want to believe you mean it. That you’re hungry for it. That you’re desperate for the throat fucking of the fucking century and desperate for it now

Her silence spoke a million words

This one had never talked dirty in her life

I decide which dicks go in which hole, little girl. You’d better remember that

Far more a monster than a messiah

Sell me your soul for sixty days and you’ll have the whole fucking lot of it

Then hurt me more

Only dirty little girls like it rough

Love. It was the most fucked up use of love I’d ever heard, but my soul didn’t care

I love pretty faces so much better when I’m fucking them up

All I cared about was doing what he wanted, taking what he wanted. Being what he wanted