Jt Geissinger Quotes

I don’t know what kind of women you’re used to, but my mother didn’t raise a worker bee. She raised a queen.” I stare at him without smiling. “And I don’t give away the honey for free.

When a woman says no, she doesn’t mean yes. She doesn’t mean maybe. She doesn’t mean please try to talk me out of it because I really don’t mean it, but I just want you to work a little harder. She means no. N. O. Now get out of my way.

Funny thing, isn’t it, hindsight? It’s memory, but with new understanding tacked on, so that the past means something different than it did before.

Life is pain and everyone dies, but true love lives forever.

Being nice is the worst thing a woman can be. Nice means you have to swallow your own feelings and focus on everyone else's. Nice means you don't speak up when you're wronged. Nice means being a people pleaser and a conciliator and worrying yourself to death over others' opinions. Nice means never getting what you really want.... Authentic. Genuine. Live your truth. Let others live theirs. Don't kiss anyone's ass, but don't be an asshole, either.

Loneliness and solitude are two totally different things. All the times I’ve been loneliest have been in a crowd.

I might be an introvert, but I’ve got a temper, and I hold a grudge like nobody’s business.

It’s not true love if you don’t want to kick his teeth in every once in a while.

Dying isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s just the only thing I won’t live through.

Fucking hell, you’re sweet. You’re so goddamn sweet, I just want to sink my teeth into every inch of you.

You’re the chaos. You’re the storm. You’re the one creating the high winds and choppy seas you have to navigate. You’re the source of everything that’s happening. In other words, you’re the one with the power.

Suddenly I'm filled with anger. "You know what? A wise woman once said, 'Fuck this shit' and lived happily ever after.

a real friend is someone who stabs you in the front.

Don’t let the worst things that happen to you be the benchmark for your self-respect.

The worst thing in life is to give yourself away in exchange for nothing.

I never lost you. Who do you think has been ringing the doorbell this whole time?

Kayla, be careful with me.” Surprised by that, I ask, “What do you mean?” “I know you think I’m strong. But the problem with strong things is that they’re brittle. They can’t bend under stress. They just break.

Love? Hardly. If you were on a life support machine, I’d unplug it to charge my phone.

Love is solid. Constant. If you’re not careful, you might mistake it for bein’ boring because it’s so reliable.

Love isn’t butterflies, boo. It isn’t weak knees. It’s a pride of lions. It’s a pack of wolves. It’s ‘I’ve got your back even if it costs me my own life,

I was giving you space. Didn’t think it would turn into distance.

Just feel me. Just feel me and breathe.

People say time heals all wounds, but those people are assholes. Wounds like mine don’t heal. I’ve just learned to control the bleeding.

I learned that love means nothing unless it’s acted upon. Love isn’t real without intent. It’s a verb. It isn’t passive.

There exists a field, beyond all notions of right and wrong. I will meet you there.

Hell is a state of mind, my dear. Reality is simply what we believe it to be. Each of us makes our own truths, even ghosts.

Even small dragons can still breathe fire.

Men say they love a strong woman, right up until they meet one.

love means nothing unless it’s acted upon. Love isn’t real without intent. It’s a verb. It isn’t passive. But most of all, love means sacrifice. Whatever love asks of you must be given, no matter the price.

What we call memory is the intersection between imagination and fact. Memories are the stories we tell ourselves about the important events in our lives. In the telling, some details get lost, others embellished, until truth is closer to fiction.

Hate will devour you. Anger, no matter how righteous it feels, is a straight, short path to hell.

That kiss was hotter than a housewife reading Fifty Shades of Grey at the Magic Mike premiere.

You are not controlling the storm, and you are not lost in it. You are the storm.

How do you always know where to find me ? ' His voice achingly gentle, he says, 'The same way a compass knows how to find true north.

This casual summer fling has the potential to burn the whole city down and leave a path of smoking ruins in its wake.

Let it be. Accept that you have warring factions inside you. If you’re living by your core values, all the second-guessing is just noise you can give yourself permission to ignore.

Hey, bunny,” he says softly, his eyes shining with adoration. “Did you miss me?

I pause, examining his expression. “Why are you so quiet?” “I don’t plan murder out loud.

Take a deep breath and remember who the fuck you are.

People make the mistake of thinking that experiencing an emotion means you have to do something about it. In fact, you don’t have to do anything with your emotions at all. You can simply acknowledge them as they arrive – oh, look, that old bitch Envy is back again – then go about your business. It’s the clinging to emotion that causes suffering … A wiser choice is to let it go and breathe.

Life is unfairly hard for introverts. Something as common as interacting with another breathing human can knock us off kilter for days. In fact, I'm not sure socialising has even one tangible benefit. If I didn't have to work for a living, I'd never leave my apartment

I love you the way I love the smell of old books.

Oh, chere," said Moma softly. "Dying isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me. It's just the only thing I won't live through.

I’m not weird. I’m limited edition.

I’ll wait forever if I have to.” That’s it. There’s nothing else, except a signature scratched below the words. Dante.

Wait. I forgot. She’s not a woman. She’s a raging banshee who eats men’s sanity for supper.

Never gonna forget a single day, baby. Good and bad, they all add up to the story of us. I'm gonna take everyone one and cherish it, come what may.

Real romantics never go for the cliché because passion is so utterly individual.

Ah, lassie. If it were anyone else but family who made you cry like this, they’d already be in an ambulance.

It’s not inexplicable. I like you the way Newton liked gravity.” “I don’t know what you mean.” “Once he found it, everything else in the universe made sense.

Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

How naïve we are when we’re young. How easily we trust that the sun will keep rising and setting, warming our days. And what a terrible blow it is to discover it isn’t the sun that makes things bright, but the people who love us, so that when they’re gone, everything is plunged into darkness.

The myth of true love is one of the greatest self-deceptions ever embraced by the female sex. It’s right up there with the ridiculous notion that money can’t buy happiness and size doesn’t matter.

Love involves a lot of forgiveness. People aren’t perfect. Falling in love is easy, but staying in love is a choice. You have to decide if the ups and downs are worth sticking out because there will be plenty of them. There will be pain.

A true friendship isn’t based on what you think you can get out of it. It’s based on respecting someone enough to let him be who he really is. A true friend is someone who says “I’m here for you” and proves it.

A woman worth her salt should be the hardest thing a man has to work for in his life, because then she’s a prize, not a gift,” she’d told me. “Anything you get for free is worth exactly what you paid for it: nothing.

Fate is just the sum of all our bad decisions

I make the best use of what’s in my power, and take the rest as it happens.

It’s not that I hate people, I just feel better when they’re not around.

Life is too short to miss out on anything, even if it's pain.

a quote from Henry David Thoreau: “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.

And exactly what is it you think I need, Aidan?” “To forget everything so you can remember who you are again.

Let me in. Let me take care of you. Give me your trust, and I’ll give you the world. I’ll give you anything you ask for.

Meeting you is a gift, and it will always be a gift, no matter how long we have together. So what I promised still stands: I’m yours until September. If you still want me.

And I can’t lose her. If ever I do, I’ll burn the whole world to the ground before following her into the dark.

I throw my hands in the air. “I’m not invincible!” “So that deal you made with the devil for the power to kill with run-on sentences didn’t include immortality?

Food is fuel, but it’s also comfort. The trouble happens when it becomes more comfort than fuel. But that’s what hugs are for.

You own me, Sloane. Every corner of my worthless black soul. Every piece of my corrupt black heart. You own it all, and you always will. I’m your slave, not the other way around. Never forget it.

She swallows and looks down at her hands clenched in her lap. “I don’t like this story.” “Should I jump to the ending? Spoiler alert: the hero saves her.” Tabby looks over at me, her eyes shining like gems in the dark. “A real hero would teach the princess how to save herself.

I’m sorry I said that thing about burying the knife in your skull. I didn’t mean it.” “You did.” “Okay, that’s true. But I would’ve regretted it if I did. I would’ve cried really hard at your funeral.

People can be arseholes. Sometimes those arseholes are family. It sucks, but it doesn’t mean you have to take on their bullshit. Your mother’s BS is about her, not you. You’re perfect just the way you are, lass.

I’m spinning, lost in a haze of pleasure, lost under the magic we make together, two perfect strangers who’ve found something rare. We’ve unearthed a treasure most people dig for their entire lives and never find.

It’s incredible how many different people one body can hold. We all walk around with a thousand strangers inside us, slumbering quietly until someone else wakes them up. Like the jolt of electricity that reanimated Frankenstein’s monster, all it takes for our sleeping giants to jump to life is a single spark.

my top five core values are non-conformity, self-reliance, kindness, honesty, and courage.” “Top five of how many total?” “Twelve.” I can’t see his smile, but I can feel it. “Let’s have the rest.” “Curiosity. Freedom. Persistence. Learning. Humor. Gratitude. Solitude.

Whatever it is you’re doin’, you better be sure. Take your time. Figure it out. But be sure. You owe it to yourself.

Love is war, darlin’. Only thing in life worth sheddin’ blood over.

My mama always told me there are few things a good hug can't cure, and those things are what bourbon's for.

Some of the prettiest faces hide the meanest hearts, and smooth talk is no substitute for good character. The only way to judge a person is by his deeds.

Lawd, that dress she’s wearin’ is so tight you can almost see her religion.

I’m gonna devour you, little bunny rabbit, piece by tasty piece. I’m going to eat. You. Up.

It’s worth it. No matter how bad it can get, no matter if it all falls apart in the end, it’s worth every minute.

Our bones have a wisdom that our hearts will always follow, regardless of the roads down which our rational minds think we should head.

If I decided to be a serial killer and went on a murderous rampage with a kitchen knife, she’d find some way to be supportive. She’d probably buy me a set of monogrammed cleavers.

Don’t judge a book by its cover, lover boy. I know I look like the girl next door, but inside, I’m more like The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.

The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live

We’re not introverts. We’re misanthropes. Big difference.

I don’t have baggage so much as cargo. It takes a certain kind of self-confidence to take me on.

Is this going to be a thing?” I ask, my arms wound around his broad shoulders. “You carrying me around like a sack of potatoes?” “It makes me feel macho bein’ able to lift all this weight—ow!

I really don’t understand men. Dealing with men is like dealing with a hostile alien species who crash-landed on the planet and decided our language and customs are too silly to be bothered with, and henceforth we should be treated with mild disdain and/or as objects of occasional sexual release before being ignored as inferior beings again.

In a voice like velvet, he says, “I want to taste every inch of you. I want to hear you scream my name. I want to make you come so hard, you forget your own. I don’t have time to fuck around—excuse the pun—with the kind of wooing I’d usually do to win you, so that’s why I’m being so blunt.

Life is short. You don’t get a do-over. Kiss who you need to kiss, love who you need to love, tell anyone who disrespects you to go fuck themselves. Let your heart lead you where it wants to. Don’t ever make a decision based on fear. In fact, if it scares you, that’s the thing you should run fastest toward, because that’s where real life is. In the scary parts. In the messy parts. In the parts that aren’t so pretty. Dive in and take a swim in all the pain and beauty that life has to offer, so that at the end of it, you don’t have any regrets. “We only come this way once. Our obligation for receiving the miraculous gift of life is to truly, fully live it.

Jackson turned his left hand up and gazed down at the simple black tattoo on the inside of his wrist. He was silent for a long time, then looked up and met my eyes. He said, "You're an avid reader. You know the meaning of semicolon." I frowned. "It's when the author could have ended a sentence but chose not to." "Exactly." "I don't understand." Jackson looked deep into my eyes. His smile might have been the saddest thing I'd ever seen. He said softly, "I'm the author, and the sentence is my life.

I’m shit with good-byes and we’re not talking anyway, so I’m skipping that part and staying at a hotel tonight. My offer was serious. It still is. My door will always be open for you. Yours until the sun flames out and all life on earth is extinguished, Prancer Included with the note is a first-class ticket to Scotland.

I read somewhere that grief is more than an emotion. It’s a physical experience, too. All kinds of nasty stress chemicals get released into the bloodstream when a person is grieving. Fatigue, nausea, headaches, dizziness, food aversion, insomnia… The list of side-effects is long.

I hear some rustling on the other end of the line, like he’s moving around. Then he exhales. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough time.” “Oh god. Please don’t feel sorry for me. I hate pity more than anything else in the world.” “It’s not pity. It’s empathy.” “I’m not sure they’re so different.” “They are. One is condescending. The other is understanding what someone’s going through because you’ve been there. And you wouldn’t wish that kind of suffering on anyone else. And you wish you could make it better.

Because real life isn’t a fairy tale, darling, and making a relationship last is hard. Love involves a lot of forgiveness. People aren’t perfect. Falling in love is easy, but staying in love is a choice. You have to decide if the ups and downs are worth sticking out because there will be plenty of them. There will be pain.

I thought love was supposed to be weak knees and butterflies in your stomach and a terrible longing that could never be quenched." Eeny shook her head, chuckled, came over and embraced me. "No, child", she said gently, patting my back. "That's romance. Romance is build on doubt. Love is solid. Constant. If you're not careful, you might mistake it for bein' boring because it's so reliable. Love is warm and deep and comfortable, just right, so you float in peacefully without ever being scalded or frozen, like a perfect, relaxing bubble bath.

Your body isn’t a thing to be looked at and judged against some standard of perfection that doesn’t even really exist. It’s the vessel that takes you through life, allowin’ you to experience all the beautiful things life has to offer. Food. Sex. Sunsets. Music. Hugs. Laughter. A healthy body is a gift. Don’t take it for granted. Don’t treat it like some cheap one-night stand. Treat it like the love of your life. Treat it with respect and tenderness, but most of all, gratitude.

I am so tired of people feeling sorry for themselves. Sorry for their shitty parents, sorry for their shitty friends, and their shitty jobs, and all the shitty things that happen every day in life to everyone, but somehow everyone seems to think their particular brand of shitty is the shittiest of them all. But you know what? There’s always someone else who’s got it a thousand times shittier than you. So suck it up and quit your bellyaching and try focusing on someone else. It might make your problems seem a little bit better in comparison. Or if not, at least it will make you less of an asshole!

One of the first shrinks I went to after Cass died told me that the brain has a hardwired need to find correlations, to make sense of nonsensical data by making connections between unrelated things. Humans have evolved a universal tendency to seek patterns in random information, hence the existence of fortune-tellers and dream interpreters and people who see the face of Jesus in a piece of toast. But the cold, hard truth is that there are no connections between anything. Life—all of existence—is totally random. Your lucky lottery numbers aren’t really lucky, because there’s no such thing as luck. The black cat that crosses your path isn’t a bad omen, it’s just a cat out for a walk. An eclipse doesn’t mean that the gods are angry, just as a bus narrowly missing you as you cross the street doesn’t mean there’s a guardian angel looking out for you. There are no gods. There are no angels. Superstitions aren’t real, and no amount of wishing, praying, or rationalizing can change the fact that life is just one long sequence of random events that ultimately have no meaning. I really hated that shrink.