Jessie Quotes

We don't know for certain that she's a warlock, Jessie," said Will. Jessamine ignored him. "Is it dreadful, being so evil? Are you worried you'll go to hell?" She leaned closer to Tessa. "What do you think the Devil's like?" Tessa set her fork down. "Would you like to meet him? I could summon him up in a trice if you like. Being a warlock, and all.

Every woman is the architect of her own fortune.

In suffering we find our truest selves.

Some day you’ll call me the one that got away.” -Jessie from Going Under.

One often meets her destiny on the road she takes to avoid it.

I read once that water is a symbol for emotions. And for a while now I've thought maybe my mother drowned in both.

The strange dance with the Infected continued, but the Loopers in the middle of the room were building into a frenzy, playing or fighting or maybe fucking each other — who the hell knew? Jessie fought not to throw up at the thought.

I bargained with Life for a penny, and Life would pay no more, However I begged at evening When I counted my scanty store; Life is a just employer. He gives you what you ask, But once you have set the wages, Why, you must bear the task. I worked for a menial's hire, Only to learn, dismayed, That any wage I had asked of Life, Life would have willingly paid

We're all more than the person we show to everyone else.

But sometimes life gives us those rare moments where we do see chance as it’s happening. And in those moments, we have a choice. And sometimes we have to take a risk. And it’s scary. It makes us vulnerable. But I know now it’s worth it.

Smitty leaned forward, resting his arms on this raised knees. "I am fixin' to get mad, Jessie. "You're fixin' to get mad?" "Yeah." "Why don't you just get mad?" "I'm not there yet. But I will be if you don't start talking to me." Smitty to Jessie Ann

Growing older does not seem to make you more certain, Nella thinks. It simply presents you with more reasons for doubt.

But what I realize, here, now, is that it's not actually making the choice that takes courage. It's facing it afterward. Owning up to it, whether it's good or bad.

Pity, unlike hate, can be boxed and put away.

Sometimes...a person is up against more than they can handle. And sometimes a person loses, no matter what they're fighting for.

Family is just accident, Jessie. It's nothing personal, hon. They don't mean to get on your nerves. They don't even mean to be your family, they just are.

It seems to me that the experiences that stay with you, the things you'll always remember, aren't the ones you can force, or go looking for. I've always thought of those things as the ones that somehow find you.

Okay, is it me, or is anyone else having a problem with deciding whether to have a heart attack or an orgasm?” Meems asked. “Orgasm,” Jessie said instantly. “Yep, same here,” Dee put in.

Do you suffer from restless lip syndrome because they make medication for that?” -Jessie from Going Under.

Momentarily forgetting this wasn’t one of her She-wolves, Sissy automatically teased, “Good thing my brother likes women with meat on their bones ’cause your ass is gonna be gettin’ wide.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. But without missing a beat, Jessie shot back, “Cool. Now I can start wearing your jeans. I thought that was only going to be possible during the late stages of the pregnancy.

There are many things in life that will catch your eye, but only a few will catch your heart. Pursue those." - Michael Nolan

Sometimes a shock to the system is a good thing, you know? Like a reminder that you're alive.

Everything Man sees he takes for a toy. Thus is he always, forever a boy.

A lifetime isn't enough to know how a person will behave.

But it's terrifying to realise how much of your world is wrapped up in loving another person

In three words I can sum up all that I've learned about: It goes on.

It's easy to forget to look up when all you do is focus on the road straight ahead.

We're all more than the person we show to everyone else. At least I hope so. Because I feel like there's more to me than that. I just haven't had the chance yet to show it.

Hey! I’ve been shot. You’re supposed to be nice to me.” “You were grazed. And then let women carry you back.” “That’s because I’m a feminist.” Jessie sighed.

You are sunlight through a window, which I stand in, warmed. My darling.

If she could have anything in the world, he'd asked her, what would it be? She'd answered that one without hesitation: a best friend. She hastily added, a truly, seriously best friend; one that I couldn't wait to talk to first thing in the morning as soon as I woke up, and one that I still wanted to be talking to, right up to the last minute before I went to sleep. He'd smiled faintly. You mean a soul mate, he'd thought but not said.

They're monsters." "That's what Edward thought." "Oh, yeah? He a friend of yours?" "No, Miss Librarian. Just a main character in a wildly popular vampire series.

Little victories, they're the ones that counts.

For so long, I was the one with his heart. I just need to see where it is now.” - Quinn

Time goes by slowly when you spend it waiting.

Now, though, I must rent a movie." "You're going to do that?" "Of course. I'm a werewolf, not a cretin. We have Blockbuster cards." It blew my mind. Werewolfs rented DVDs. At my local Blockbuster.

It’s too much, this. Life, and love, and how fragile it all is.

I admit to the jealousy. If you ever allow someone else to touch you, I will kill him, Jessie. I will tear him apart. Do you understand me?

Everyone wants the people to end up together in the end. It's human nature. The funny thing is, you always know they're going to. You just never know how.

Hurts, doesn’t it?” I asked. “What?” “Keepin’ your mouth shut for once.

Good female friendships are the strongest relationships in the world.

Let me guess, Jessie. You ran across some poor woman in the park who had the misfortune of wearing a gown that clashed with yours, so you slit her throat with that clever little parasol of yours. Do I have it right?” Jessamine bared her teeth at him. “You’re being ridiculous.” “You are, you know,” Charlotte told him. “I mean, I’m wearing blue. Blue goes with everything,” Jessamine went on. “Which, really, you ought to know. You’re vain enough about your own clothes.” “Blue does not go with everything,” Will told her. “It does not go with red, for instance.” “I have a red and blue striped waistcoat,” Henry interjected, reaching for the peas. “And if that isn’t proof that those two colors should never be seen together under Heaven, I don’t know what is.

I bit my cheek and tried not to smile. It didn't matter what I threw at the guy; I couldn't shake that darn sunny attitude of his. Worse of all, I was afraid it might be contagious. "Just so I'm prepared... are all cowboys like you?" I asked, stepping up into Old Bessie. Jessie stepped between the door and me before I could close it. His body took up almost the entire door frame. "There's no other cowboy like me," he said with a smile.

Ariel, Belle, Cinderella, Jasmine... none of them had mothers." I was still wasn't following, but she continued, obviously excited. "When I was little, I used to think that meant that life had to make it up to them, for taking their mothers away, and so that's why they ended up having the whole fairy-tale happily-ever-after magic happen to them. The deserved it more than other girls." She looked at me intently. "Life will make it up to you, Anna.

Yes. Da,' I corrected. 'Say it again.' 'What?"' His voice grew husky as he repeated his request. 'Say yes—in Russian—again.' I blushed. 'Da,' I whispered. 'Will you teach me more Russian, Pietr?' 'Mmm, only the important words,' he promised. I bit back my request for the three most important words to me. 'What words would you teach me?' 'Pocelujte menyah.' 'What's that mean?' He groaned. 'Repeat it tonight and perhaps I will show you.

Some things need to be said. And sometimes they require strong words.

But when’s the last time you took a chance? Or didn’t do what someone else expected of you? Or did something you really wanted to, even though you probably shouldn’t have?

A moment was all it took to change everything.

I want this day to be my fresh start. I want this to be the day I step out of my comfort zone and go somewhere new.

Ice cream is happiness condensed.

That's what living people do. They shatter and rebuild, shatter and rebuild, shatter and rebuild until they are old and worn and stooped from the work of it.

I've got this tiny pang of regret when I think of how much I have probably missed out on in the last few years because I was too scared to take a risk, or too shy to speak up, or too worried to be bold. It is my one wild and precious life, after all.

Nothing could be left to chance, because chance, after all, can be dangerous. But what I didn't realize all that time, what I missed all along, is that chance is everywhere. It's also what life is made of. It's all around us, but most of the time we never see it working.

Who's Jessie?" "My Yugo" "You have a name for your Yugo? Please don't tell me you're one of those guys who also names his dick." "Unfortunately, I've yet to find the perfect name for mine, so it's in this netherworld of nameless identity right now.

Today feels different because yesterday was different.

Marin believes love is better in the chase than caught.

Do you have a body if there is no one there to touch it? I suppose you do, but sometimes it felt like I didn't. I was just a mind floating around the rooms.

The surface of Amsterdam thrives on these mutual acts of surveillance, the neighborly smothering of a person's spirit.

We lie together, quiet, under an endless sky, beside a bottomless ocean, and we don’t talk about how these are all the things that brought us together. We don’t talk about how we wouldn’t change any of them.We don’t have to, because these are the things we know by heart.

I wont take no for an answer. I will use this to bind you to my bed until you change your mind if you dont answer the way I want you to. Will you marry me?" She grinned. "I dont know." Her attention fixed on the tie for a few seconds before she met his gaze again. "I might be tempted to say no just to get you to tie me to your bed.

People always put their own spin on things, remember what they want to remember, and somewhere in the middle of it all is the truth - the real version - one you could only write yourself if you were willing to.

And the whole time I was pleading with fate, or chance, or whatever, for him to find me. Just find me again. Find me and take me somewhere secret, where I can be who I am when I’m with him.

It's not actually making the choice that take courage. It's facing it afterward.

Every choice has the power to affect your life later on in ways you can't go back and change.

I was a woman sobbing in a hotel corridor, which is kind of incredible, because when I was little I thought I was going to be a senator.

Amsterdam: Where the pendulum swings from God to a guilder.

We should go back inside," she said, in a half whisper. She did not want to go back inside. She wanted to stay here, with Will achingly close, almost leaning into her. She could feel the heat that radiated from his body. His dark hair fell around the mask, into his eyes, tangling with his long eyelashes. "We have only a little time-" She took a step forward-and stumbled into Will, who caught her. She froze-and then her arms crept around him, her fingers lacing themselves behind his neck. Her face was pressed against his throat, his soft hair under her fingers. She closed her eyes, shutting out the dizzying world, the light beyond the French windows, the glow of the sky. She wanted to be here with Will, cocooned in this moment, inhaling the clean sharp scent of him., feeling the beat of his heart against hers, as steady and strong as the pulse of the ocean. She felt him inhale. "Tess," he said. "Tess, look at me." She raised her eyes to his, slow and unwilling, braced for anger or coldness-but his gaze was fixed on hers, his dark blue eyes somber beneath their thick black lashes, and they were stripped of all their usual cool, aloof distance. They were as clear as glass and full of desire. And more than desire-a tenderness she had never seen in them before, had never even associated with Will Herondale. That, more than anything else, stopped her protest as he raised his hands and methodically began to take the pins from her hair, one by one. This is madness, she thought, as the first pin rattled to the ground. They should be running, fleeing this place. Instead she stood, wordless, as Will cast Jessamine's pearl clasps aside as if they were so much paste jewelry. Her own long, curling dark hair fell down around her shoulders, and Will slid his hands into it. She heard him exhale as he did so, as if he had been holding his breath for months and had only just let it out. She stood as if mesmerized as he gathered her hair in his hands, draping it over one of her shoulders, winding her curls between his fingers. "My Tessa," he said, and this time she did not tell him that she was not his. "Will," she whispered as he reached up and unlocked her hands from around his neck. He drew her gloves off, and they joined her mask and Jessie's pins on the stone floor of the balcony. He pulled off his own mask next and cast it aside, running his hands through his damp black hair, pushing it back from his forehead. The lower edge of the mask had left marks across his high cheekbones, like light scars, but when she reached to touch them, he gently caught at her hands and pressed them down. "No," he said. "Let me touch you first. I have wanted...

I'd give anything right now to go back, even just for a few moments, so I could pay more attention. Inscribe every detail of him, and of us together, onto my heart, where I could keep it safe always. Where even time couldn't erase it.

For what am I, she wonders, but a product of my own imagination?

When did having a life become an event you had to schedule?

The bars on our cage are of our own making.

Suspended as we were, with no horizon line or landscape or anything else to draw a separation between the water and the sky, I pictured us up there with the stars. Another story written in tiny lights. We were a constellation put in the sky-- two people holding hands, floating peacefully above everything else, in a beautiful, perfect moment.

Everything that ever happens to you only happens once, so you better never stop paying attention.

[I]t wasn't history that was too fragile, but me.

Women have problem areas in a way that men don't. We have big hips and muffin tops. Men just have the thing where they create wars and wreak havoc all over the globe.

Do what I tell you, when I tell you, and the worst thing that'll happen is you'll fall in love.

It’s called being in love. It’s more frightening than confronting your deepest fear and opens you to being hurt beyond the physical plane.” He placed a hand over his heart. “It might seem as though it’s a weakness to you but it is proof that we are more than numbers, experiments, or whatever else Mercile intended us to be. It takes bravery and strength to feel such strong emotions for one person when we were denied from birth the chance to ever care about anything or anyone. I’m not saying it’s easy or painless. It is probably one of the most complex things I’ve experienced. Jessie is my life. My heart beats for her and I will admit to all that I wouldn’t want to go on if I lost her. The unmated ones don’t understand and are currently looking confused or horrified. I’m hopeful they’ll know the ups and downs of falling in love one day. It’s a gift and a curse at times but everyone should experience it. It’s a part of life and we are survivors.

Like most artists, everything I produced was connected to who I was - and so I suffered according to how my work was received. The idea that anyone might be able to detach their personal value from their public output was revolutionary.

It's a strange, surreal thing to watch an ideal crumble right in front of your eyes, and to know there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.

We are made of our pasts, and our pains, our joys and our losses. It's in the very fiber of our beings. Written on our hearts.

I'm sorry, but nothing 'just happens'. Stuff happens because either we make it happen or we let it.

A thousand fireworks explode inside me, and I feel them in him too, in his lips on mine, and his hands in my hair, and he way we pull each other closer. Everything else falls away, and in this moment, when we touch, we are light.

I worked for a menial’s hire, Only to learn, dismayed, That any wage I had asked of Life, Life would have willingly paid.

That's the best part. The how.

When you look back on this moment months from now, don't forget the one word I'm about to say to you, Claire Deveraux. Foreplay.

How many people have gotten older and forgotten about the things they hoped for and dreamed about when they were young? Or given up without ever taking a chance, or settled in life because it's easier, or they're scared, or whatever other excuses? How many people need a reminder of who they once were?

Anna: Ash, I don't have anything planned with my Mother... She's dead. Ashley: What? Anna: She died when I was seven. She drowned. It's just my Dad and me. I didn't tell you before because I just wanted a fresh start here, because before I moved, everybody knew about it and... I'm sorry. Ashley: ....... You're like a Disney Princess!

Marin believes love is better in the chase than caught,’ she says. He raises his eyebrows. ‘That does not surprise me. It is not better. But it is easier. One’s imagination is always more generous. And yet, the chase always tires you out in the end.

Imprinting." I heard the smile disappear from Cat's face. "Next." I repeated myself. "Are you referring to Stephenie Meyer's books?" "Yes," I said. A little unwillingly. Cat chuckled. "There's no shame in reading enjoyable books. But this topic is better discussed later." "Got it.

I was afraid of what he might be able to see. Because all of a suddent it didn't feel like we were standing on the beach anymore. It felt like we were balanced on a thin, thin line. That fragile one that divides the invisible space between something and nothing, or before and after.

Life is made of moments. and choices. Not all of them matter, or have any lasting impact. Skipping class in favor of a taste of freedom, picking a prom dress because of the way it transforms you into a princess in the mirror. Even the nights you steal away from an open window, tiptoe silent to the end of the driveway, where darkened headlights and the pull of something unknown beckon. These are all small choices, really. Insignificant as soon as they’re made. Innocent. But then. Then there’s a different kind of moment. One when things are irrevocably changed by a choice we make. A moment we will play endlessly in our minds on lonely nights and empty days. One we’ll search repeatedly for some indication that what we chose was right, some small sign that tells us the truth isn’t nearly as awful as it feels. Or as awful as anyone would think if they knew. So we explain it to ourselves, justify it enough to sleep. And then we bury it deep, so deep we can almost pretend it never happened. But as much as we wish it were different, the truth is, our worlds are sometimes balanced on choices we make and the secrets we keep.

People are almost always safe from ghosts and ghouls and the living dead in daylight, and they're usually safe from them at night if they're with others, but when a person is alone in the dark, all bets are off. Men and women alone in the dark are like open doors, Jessie, and if they call out or scream for help, who knows what dread things may answer? Who knows what some men and women have seen in the hour of their solitary deaths? Is it so hard to believe that some of them may have died of fear, no matter what the words on the death certificates say?

I don't know what comes next. I can't know, until I've walked the road I've chosen. I slow at the thought. I don't have a plan, and there is no map for this. It's terrifying, but there's a spark of exhilaration that gives me hope that the choice I just made could turn out to be the right and this feels infinitely better than the weight of regret.

Each heartbeat begins with a single, electrical impulse, or "spark." The distinctive sound we hear through a stethoscope, or when we place our head on a loved one's chest, is the sound of the heart valves opening and closing in perfect synchronicity with each other. It is a two-party rhythm - a delicate dance of systole and diastole, which propels the heart's electrically charged particles through its chambers roughly every second of the day, every day of our lives.

Suddenly he smiled, and the sadness was vanquished by whisky heat. “Aye, Jessica, I like you. And I’m not just stuck with you. You fit me here, woman.” He thumped his chest with his fist. Then he shook her hand from his forearm and pushed off with the cart again. Jessi watched him move down the aisle, all sleek animal muscle and dark grace. Wow. He wasn’t a man of many words, but when he used them, he certainly used the right ones. You fit me here. You are the exception to everything. Crimeny. It was how she’d always thought a relationship should be. People should fit each other: some days like sexy, strappy high-heeled shoes, other days like comfortable loafers—but always a good fit. And if you cared about someone, they should be the exception to everything; the number-one priority, the one who came before all others. He was halfway down the aisle from her now, plucking a can from the shelf—her primal hunter/gatherer procuring food by modern means, she thought, with a soft snort of amusement.

. . . children should draw [a husband & wife] nearer than ever, not separate you, as if they were all yours, and [your husband] had nothing to do but support them. . . . don't neglect husaband for children, don't shut him out of the nursery, but teach him how to help in it. His place is there as well as yours, and the children need him; let him feel that he has his part to do, and he will do it gladly and faithfully, and it will be better for you all. . . . That is the secret of our home happiness: he does not let business wean him from the little cares and duties that affect us all, and I try not to let domestic worries destroy my interest in his pursuits. Each do our part alone in many things, but at home we work together, always. . . . no time is so beautiful and precious to parents as the first years of the little lives given them to train. Don't let [your husband] be a stranger to the babies, for they will do more to keep him safe and happy in this world of trial and temptation than anything else, and through them you will learn to know and love one another as you should.

Listen,” he says. “I know earlier I said just a day, but that was…I wasn't being completely honest. And I know if I let you get in your car and drive away again without telling you the truth, I’ll regret it all the way home.” He drops his eyes to the ground for a moment, then brings them back up to mine. “Anyway. I promise I won’t surprise you at your door again, but if you ever decide you want another day–ever–I have lots of them, and I …I liked this one.

When he saw Tyler, his face went serious, which struck me as comical. Andy had always been protective, but when it came to me having anything to do with guys, he felt it was his duty to inform and protect me from the ones he thought were most like himself. When I turned thirteen, he pulled me aside and we had his version of 'the talk,' which mostly consisted of a bunch of 'uhs' and 'ums,' but I got the gist of his speech: boys only wanted one thing, and I shouldn't give it to them until I was at least thirty-three. And married.

She shrugged, looking as baffled by it as he felt. "I don't know. I wonder sometimes if people even know what love is anymore. Some days, when I'm watching my friends change lovers as unperturbedly as they change shoes, I think the world just got filled with too many people, and all our technological advances made things so easy that it cheapened our most basic, essential value somehow," she told him. "It's like spouses are commodities nowadays: disposable, constantly getting tossed back out for trade on the market and everyone's trying to trade up, up--like there is a 'trading up' in love." She rolled her eyes. "No way. That's not for me. I'm having one husband. I'm getting married once. When you know going in that you're staying for life, it makes you think harder about it, go slower, choose really well.

Ruby and Aaron are both crazy patient; they’re good parents.” “I could be a good dad,” Ivan whispered, still feeding Jess. I could have told him he’d be good at anything he wanted to be good at, but nah. “Do you want to have kids?” he asked me out of the blue. I handed Benny another block. “A long time from now, maybe.” “A long time… like how long?” That had me glancing at Ivan over my shoulder. He had his entire attention on Jessie, and I was pretty sure he was smiling down at her. Huh. “My early thirties, maybe? I don’t know. I might be okay with not having any either. I haven’t really thought about it much, except for knowing I don’t want to have them any time soon, you know what I mean?” “Because of figure skating?” “Why else? I barely have enough time now. I couldn’t imagine trying to train and have kids. My baby daddy would have to be a rich, stay-at-home dad for that to work.” Ivan wrinkled his nose at my niece. “There are at least ten skaters I know with kids.” I rolled my eyes and poked Benny in the side when he held out his little hand for another block. That got me a toothy grin. “I’m not saying it’s impossible. I just wouldn’t want to do it any time soon. I don’t want to half-ass or regret it. If they ever exist, I’d want them to be my priority. I wouldn’t want them to think they were second best.” Because I knew what that felt like. And I’d already screwed up enough with making grown adults I loved think they weren’t important. If I was going to do something, I wanted to do my best and give it everything. All he said was, “Hmm.” A thought came into my head and made my stomach churn. “Why? Are you planning on having kids any time soon?” “I wasn’t,” he answered immediately. “I like this baby though, and that one. Maybe I need to think about it.” I frowned, the feeling in my stomach getting more intense. He kept blabbing. “I could start training my kids really young…. I could coach them. Hmm.” It was my turn to wrinkle my nose. “Three hours with two kids and now you want them?” Ivan glanced down at me with a smirk. “With the right person. I’m not going to have them with just anybody and dilute my blood.” I rolled my eyes at this idiot, still ignoring that weird feeling in my belly that I wasn’t going to acknowledge now or ever. “God forbid, you have kids with someone that’s not perfect. Dumbass.” “Right?” He snorted, looking down at the baby before glancing back at me with a smile I wasn’t a fan of. “They might come out short, with mean, squinty, little eyes, a big mouth, heavy bones, and a bad attitude.” I blinked. “I hope you get abducted by aliens.” Ivan laughed, and the sound of it made me smile. “You would miss me.” All I said, while shrugging was, “Meh. I know I’d get to see you again someday—” He smiled. “—in hell.” That wiped the look right off his face. “I’m a good person. People like me.” “Because they don’t know you. If they did, somebody would have kicked your ass already.” “They’d try,” he countered, and I couldn’t help but laugh. There was something wrong with us. And I didn’t hate it. Not even a little bit.