Kv Quotes

Lucifer might have ruled hell, but Lilith made it burn.

We’re all addicted to something. Drugs just happen to be illegal.

Halloween will be here soon, and once I burn Lucifer’s body, I’ll fucking dance on his grave.

Lucifer hadn’t been an angel. Not even a fallen one. He’d really, truly been the devil.

It's amazing, how I want to kill her and save her all at the same time. I'm not sure which I'll end up doing tonight.

I’m going to fucking enjoy breaking him, too.

You were my flinch,” I tell him, and I mean it. “When you slipped your hand in mine…” I smile, raking a hand through my short hair. “You were my flinch.

You left me in the middle of the goddamn woods, in a fucking insane asylum. You piece of fucking shit!

Do you not like taking hints or do you just enjoy me cutting myself open for you?” He smiles with the question, but there’s still an edge to the morbid words.

Tempus edax rerum. Time devours all things.

If Satan was a wild boy with a hot temper, come to earth to fuck us all, he would look just like Lucifer Malikov.

That I was wrong. Sick. Unlovable.

I cut him off, even though it hurts. I have to cut him off.

What do I want from you? Everything. Every-fucking-thing. Your life. Your heart. Your fucking soul. All of it. I want it. I want you. Covered in my blood, bound to me in yours.

When he touches me, I light up. I want to melt into him. I want to burn with him. We can burn the whole world if we want. We can burn up hell if we have to. We can destroy everything we touch, and we can do it together, without burning each other.

I’m not really ready to see her break. Instead, I want to grab her. Press her to me. Hide her from this fucked up world. Get inside her head and destroy all of those horrible memories she doesn’t ever wanna talk about.

We all want someone to want all the fucked-up parts of us, don’t we?” She glances at me. “Yours just happen to be a little more fucked than the rest of us.

Anger over fear, because one makes you move and the other can freeze you.

Touch me, so I can see if I hate the way you feel like I do everyone else.

She’s not broken. She’s not looking for someone to save her. She’s looking for someone to drown with her.

There is no part of you I don’t love, fly too close to the sun. fall from grace. Drowning under the sea. Every stage, every mood, anything you’ve ever done…I love you still.

I know a devil when I see one.

You are definitely brother and sister. One hundred percent Rain and one hundred percent assholes.

I think I want to keep you and I think I don’t ever want to let you go, Zara Rose.

You deserve the world. I’d burn it down before I let anyone give you less.

This is no place for a hero. I’ve never needed one of those. Heroes back down when blood spills. Villains fucking dance in it.

You’ll be the most beautiful corpse I’ve ever buried, baby girl.

Fucking Sid Rain. Lilith. She fucked up my life and she doesn’t even know it.

I love you, Sid,” I whisper against her ear, “and I don’t need to hear it back. But I need you to know it. I might not be very good at it, but I love you, and I think I always have.

I wish feeling loved was enough to tame my fucking restless soul. But I just have to get through that one day at a time. One hour at a time. One minute. Maybe one day I’ll stop thinking about him. Maybe one day I won’t be in love with a ghost.

I’ve always given a fuck about you. I would bleed for you. Kill for you.” He steps closer, reaches for my trembling hand, pulling it from my mouth, to his chest. “I would die for you, Sid.

How she grabbed a knife from the block, and I thought she was going to destroy the furniture or something. I thought she was going to tear some shit apart. I didn’t think it was going to be herself.

My breath catches in my lungs as exhilaration takes over my energized limbs. I no longer feel the stones underfoot. All I know is the air whooshing past my ears and the thud of my wild heart. I am light as air.

You killed him,” she whispers. “Killed…them.” I take a breath, press my forehead to her chest, close my eyes. “My father?” I scoff. “Your pimp? The people that hurt you?” She tenses and I regret those words. “Yeah, I killed them. And I’d do it over and over and over again. For you, I’d do anything. That, and worse.

But he has no one else to defend him. I do name him mine, then. In this time, in this place. He will not burn again

Zara: You need a shoulder to cry on, Eli? Find someone else.

There’s no truth between us. I don’t know if there ever was.

This is not going to end well for one of us. Logically, I know that. But the thing about logic is that it has no effect on the heart at all.

If you let people in, they can hurt you.

I think I want to keep you,” he says with a faint trace of a smile. “I think I want to keep you and I think I don’t ever want to let you go, Zara Rose.

The people with the biggest hearts always have the thickest armor.

I don’t want to learn about why people are fucked up. I am one of those people, and I’ve realized the “why” doesn’t fucking matter.

Knowing the root cause doesn’t change the disease where my mind is concerned.

Don’t thank people for things they don’t deserve thanks for.

They fight and they scream and in the end, they stay together because no one else would want them.

But she should know people don’t do what you want just because you beg them.

He’s happy. I was born sad.

I know you’re a filthy little…

Don’t make me toss you off of this balcony.” She tightens her grip, her chest pressing closer to me. “You wouldn’t.” Her eyes find my mouth. “You’d miss me too much.

We skipped the small talk because two souls know when they’re conceived to collide. They don’t need an introduction. They just fucking ruin each other without a hello.

Maybe because I know I’d never truly hurt her. As it is, I think she has the most power to hurt me. I’m just not sure she recognizes it yet.

I’m not sure I want to know about that kind of pain, when she’s still clearly in so much.

I wish I was in fall right now. Falling right out of this fucking Jeep.

The idea of him being with me past college, past this week even, is unfathomable. And I don’t like it. People always leave.

but don’t you dare let those things make you bitter. Don’t you dare allow the world’s hurt to make you into someone that hurts other people.

I just wish that was enough. I wish feeling loved was enough to tame my fucking restless soul.

Yeah. Everyone wants to pretend they’re sympathetic to people with mental illnesses until they start showing signs of being mentally fucking ill.

Because it’s the only way we can feel,” I answer her, my nails biting into her palm. “Deeply, or not at all.

I know what it’s like to feel alone even when you’re touching someone else. It’s like holding a ghost.

Our souls don’t know how to crawl closer. We run head on, seeing the impact up ahead, but we can’t stop. Or maybe we just don’t want to. We know the wreck will be worth it.

When the alarm on my phone goes off, my first instinct is to throw it across the fucking room. So, I do.

When he turns back to wave at me, my stomach flutters as he runs back over, kisses me again, slinging an arm around my neck.

take her to the gym and we can start working on that business plan of ours.

I think I’ll be a broke philosophy major without a job and a shitload of debt from student loans.

You’re not weird, princess,” Alex says against my skin.

But you are so beautiful, too. So fucking beautiful, inside and out. And you’re funny and kind and your recklessness makes you interesting. And you deserve love,

Hate me, love me, fuck me, run from me. I don't care. You're stuck with me.

I want to give you the best hgh, Zara. Better than those little pills you've been doing." He places the needle over my vein. "This is the real thing, Za.

But it’s what we do. We hurt each other. Get pissed. Do it again. Make up. It’s a vicious cycle, but it’s our entire relationship.

I think I want to keep you. I think I want to keep you and I think I don’t ever want to let you go, Zara Rose.

I’ve felt this before, the kind of depression that makes you indifferent. Lethargic. It’s not a sadness. It’s an emptiness.

when you’re raised with monsters, those with the dullest teeth seem the most angelic.

She left me. She fucking left me.

Why did I think he’d fight for me? Why do I even want him to? But no one has ever fought for me. I’ve always had to fight for my fucking self.

She is a mess, she’s decided, and no one wants a mess. Not a real one. Not an unromanticized version of one.

No one wants to be the recipient of one of those disorders with no cure, no treatment, no understanding.

My mouth is so dry, my heart racing. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do. Something bad is happening to me, I want to tell him. I’m the bad thing. Happening to my fucking self

My mouth is so dry, my heart racing. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do. Something bad is happening to me, I want to tell him. I’m the bad thing. Happening to my fucking self.

They constantly told me that my first love would be a handsome boy who'd save me, or a pretty girl who'd hold me. So I searched the world for another, never knowing that my first love should have been me.

I want to go upstairs, to Zara’s apartment. I want to fall into her arms. I want to tell her I’m scared. I want to tell her I don’t want her to become my mother. I want to tell her I think she already has.

I’m going to fucking kill you, and all of your friends.” I smile at her. “Please do.” I run a hand through my hair as she stares at me, impassive. “Please, for the love of Satan, put me out of my fucking misery.

That’s why girls like assholes, I think to myself. There’s something appealing about being with a man who does not give a single fuck about anything. Anything but you. But what about when he ruins you? What then?

But you are so beautiful, too. So fucking beautiful, inside and out. And you’re funny and kind and your recklessness makes you interesting. And you deserve love, Zara. Whether you believe it or not, you deserve it.

But I see everything you could be. Everything you already are, even if you don’t know it yet. I see more than what you want people to see, Zara. I see past your bullshit, and that’s what I want. What you really are.

I think about the therapist I went to when I was five. They let me play with blocks and assured me that my parents’ divorce wasn’t my fault. A lot of good that did for the empty hole in my chest that my father had left.

He probably doesn’t know either, that the girls with the worst habits have the sharpest teeth. And that girl could take a bite out of fucking glass and never bleed. It’s how I know she’d be able to handle someone like me.

The demonstration starts by filling the two beakers almost to their brims with water and then placing them side-by-side, lips touching. An electrode immersed in each beaker imposes a potential difference on the order of 10 kV.

because he thinks he’s just biding his time, picking up her pieces until she’s whole again. But he doesn’t see what I see in her. She’s not broken. She’s not looking for someone to save her. She’s looking for someone to drown with her.

You know she’s not okay. You know she’s still using. And you can’t breathe for her too. She’ll pull you down in that grave and bury you with her.” He takes another pull from his beer. “She’ll fuck you up, Alex. You won’t save her. She’ll just destroy you.

Why does everything always feel so heavy between us?” It takes me by surprise, her question. But it gets under my skin, too, because there’s nothing about it that isn’t true. “Because it’s the only way we can feel,” I answer her, my nails biting into her palm. “Deeply, or not at all.

One of them doesn’t want you, Zara. One of them only wants to see if he can take you away from the other. That’s part of the appeal.” She levels me with her gaze, and I feel her next words like an arrow to the heart. “Once he gets you, he’ll drop you, and it’ll hurt like hell when he does.

It makes the thought of the future hurt that much more. I think I’d let him get away with anything at all, stabbing me over and over and over, if only he would beg me to come back, over and over again, just like this. The torture kind of makes life worth living. The power makes me feel loved.

Haunted memories, waking up in a cold sweat because they infected your dreams, remembering you have no future because you live with a brain which hates you, imagining someone you love walking out, over and over and over… Therapists. Medications. Psychiatrists. Studies. Blood on your hands. No one wants that. No one wants the reality of mental illness.

Look guys, I am your worst nightmare. I'm a woman with a badge, a gun, and PMS. Are you really sure you want to piss me off any more tonight?

David, listen to me. We are the epitome of impossible. Shapeshifters! Brought to life by an arrogant spirit under the light of a blood moon.

Mental illness is symptoms and impaired decisions and blackouts and snap reactions, but sometimes, it’s silence. Sometimes, there are no words to describe the darkest, bleakest feelings. The ones that eat you alive, inside your head. Those are hushed whispers, thoughts unvoiced. The scary things that make you feel as if you’re losing your humanity. No one wants to admit to spiraling. When anyone asks you how you are, you’re fine. Because how can you say you hate yourself out loud? How can you say something isn’t right inside a place no one can see?

I’m sorry you had to learn that from him.” I’m sorry your piece of shit non-brother fucked you up. “I’m sorry if you think I’m a horrible person.” I am a horrible person. “I’m sorry if you hate me.” I hope you hate me. You won’t be so surprised when they get to you. “But I’ll never let anyone take you from me.” They’re going to take you from me. “Ever, Lilith, do you understand?” Lie to me. Lie to me like I’m lying to you.

The thing people don’t tell you about suicide attempts? They don’t tell you about the fucking flinch. That moment when the blood is pouring from your wrists, or you’re drifting into oblivion, and you should feel peace. You should feel happiness, knowing the end is coming. So close, you can taste it. Feel it. Almost sink right into it. They don’t tell you that is the exact moment you fucking regret it. The exact moment you want to die because you don’t want to fucking die. You want to kill yourself because you were so fucking stupid.

Don’t be like this, okay, Lilith? Not with me.” I don’t know what he means. I shake my head, unable to speak, to say a fucking word, the tears falling faster, hot and wet down my face, buried against his chest. “Don’t try to pretend you’re okay when you’re not,” he says, his words rumbling from his chest, vibrating through me. “Don’t try to be so brave all the time, okay, baby? You don’t have to be. We got…” He stops for a second, and when he starts again, his voice is hoarse, nearly choked, so much emotion that he can barely get the words out. “We got fucked up, okay? We got fucked up, and you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it. And I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you. I’m so sorry you were here, so close to me, and I had no idea…I’m so fucking sorry. But you can fall apart with me, Lilith. Okay? You can fucking fall apart and I’ll put you back together, over and over and over again, scars and all.” He pulls away from me, spins me around, pulls me back to his chest, his arms wrapped around the front of me. “We’ll figure this all out, okay? Everything. When your memories come flooding back, tell me. Talk to me. And as for the other shit, you can meet Finn if you want, or if you don’t, that’s okay, too. And we’ll, ya know, go see a movie and go on a fucking date and do nice, normal things.

Hitler deployed four panzer groups with a total of seventeen panzer divisions and 3,106 tanks2 for Operation Barbarossa, the invasion of the Soviet Union. In addition, two independent panzer battalions, Pz.Abt. 40 and Pz.Abt. 211, were deployed in Finland with 124 tanks (incl. twenty Pz.III). The 2 and 5.Panzer-Divisionen were refitting in Germany after the Greek Campaign in April 1941 and were in OKH reserve. Otherwise, the only other extant panzer units were the 15.Panzer-Division with Generalleutnant Erwin Rommel in Libya and two panzer brigades in France. No other panzer units were in the process of forming in Germany. Consequently, the OKH was committing virtually all of the available German panzer forces to Barbarossa, with negligible reserves and limited monthly production output to replace losses. In mid-1941, German industry was producing an average of 250 tanks per month, half of which were the Pz.III medium tank. Combat experience in France and Belgium in 1940 indicated that the Germans could expect to lose about one-third of their medium tanks even in a short six-week campaign, which Hitler regarded as acceptable losses. Furthermore, German industry had no tanks beyond the Pz.III or Pz.IV in advance development. The Heereswaffenamt (Army Weapons Office) only authorized Henschel and Porsche to begin working on prototypes for a new heavy tank four weeks before Operation Barbarossa began, and this program had no special priority until after the first encounters with the Soviet T-34 and KV-1 tanks in combat.