Lj Shen Angry God Quotes

Every painful goodbye starts with a wonderful hello.

We will always be something. You might move on and marry someone else, have his children and get your happily ever after, but you will never be completely done with me.

Son, are you gay?” I spat the cognac out, choking on the earthy liquid. Dad remained calm, crossing one leg over the other. “Be frank. You know we don’t care, and we’ll support you no matter what. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.” “There’s nothing wrong with it, all right, but I’m not gay.” He blinked, saying nothing. “Why the fuck would you think that?” “You’re not a huge fan of the other sex.” “I’m not a huge fan of the human race.” “Me either. But then there’s your mother. I am a huge fucking fan of hers.

We all get old. We all get wrinkles. Life is short. Eat that pizza. Drink that wine. Shut down that bully eejit who tortures you.

The less you said, the more you were feared.

Because my dad told me good girls like bad boys, and I’m bad. Really bad.

Any last words?” “I…” he started. “Kidding. I don’t give a fuck.

But if you look closely, you’ll find beauty in the ugliness, too.

If you want to look at your fiercest protector, at the one person you can always count on, take a good look in the mirror.

Kissing him was like standing on the edge of a cliff. Nice view, but you knew it was deadly.

The quietest man in the room is also the deadliest.

Do you love me?" "To death. And that's not just a figure of speech, although I'd appreciate it greatly if you don't test me on the matter.

She had on an OBEY beanie, but had corrected it with a Sharpie so the word was now Disobey. What a fucking rebel. Someone should notify the authorities before she did something really crazy, like eat non-organic blueberries in the cafeteria.

Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are a bit unhinged.” He said “a bit” for the sake of civility. Truth was, you couldn’t be a bit unhinged, just like you couldn’t be “a bit” dead. Being crazy demanded commitment, which I certainly showed.

We come into this world alone, and we die alone. If we get sick, we fight it alone. Our parents are not there to go through chemo treatments for us. They’re not the ones losing their hair, puking buckets, or getting their asses kicked at school. If we’re involved in an accident, they’re not the ones losing blood, fighting for their lives on the operating table, losing a limb. “I’m here for you” is the dumbest sentence I’d ever heard anyone say.

You should believe me,” she announced, “because in order to destroy you, I need to acknowledge you first. See, in order to ruin a person’s life, you need to hate them. Be jealous of them. Feel some type of passionate response toward them. You stir nothing in me, Vaughn Spencer. Not even disgust. Not even pity, though I really should pity you. You’re the gum stuck to the bottom of my boots. You are a fleeting moment no one remembers—unremarkable, unnecessary, and utterly forgettable.

You are that girl. My safe place. My asymmetric happiness. My Edgar Allan Poe poem. You are my Smiths, and my favorite fantasy book, my brownie, and summer vacations in lush places. There will never be anyone else like you. And that’s exactly why you deserve someone better than me.

I love you in my fucked up, destructive way

Fine. Whatever. Fuck it. They’re whiny and annoying and could grow up to be fucking serial killers. Who needs them?

Kissing him was like standing on the edge of a cliff. Nice view, but you knew it was deadly. Still, a stupid, irrational, dangerously alive part of you still wanted to hurl yourself down to meet your own demise.

I was who I was, and I was going to be enough.

You,” he whispered, kissing my cheek, “are so effortlessly yourself.

Ten minutes later, his suicide letter was done. The handwriting was legit, and he got a nice incentive to play along, seeing as I gave him a deal he couldn’t refuse. “Write the letter and go peacefully, swallowing a bunch of pills. Don’t write the letter and I slit your wrists in your bathtub and watch you bleed. Either way, you’ll be dead before dinnertime, and it will look like suicide. The awful, messy way or the peaceful way? Up to you.” He chose the pills.

Our love was so much more than love. It stripped us of pride and anger and hate and insecurities. We were bare and beautiful and pure when we were together.

Vaughn was never uncomfortable. He wore his skin with arrogance, like a crown.

I wanted you to look at me the way you look at your fantasy book—with a mixture of awe, anticipation and warmth.

Shit,” the word was breathed in awe. I frowned, waiting for her to complete the sentence, then realized I was the pathetic motherfucker who’d uttered it. She crossed her legs at the ankle, looking at me funny. “You may pick up your jaw at any time, Spencer.

I didn’t tell them your secret.” My fingers dug into the wood of the window frame, the splinters cutting through my skin like little blades. The police officers were raiding the second floor, I could tell. I could hear them. They were going to find the attic, and then me. “Tell me you believe me, and I’ll jump.” “What difference does it make?” He bared his fangs, staring at me with forced boredom. The fire spread, licking at the grass and approaching us with surprising speed, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. We were already dangerously close to getting caught. “Because it’s the truth,” I screamed. Our eyes met in the dark and held for a moment. “I don’t believe you, but I’ll still catch you,” he said. “I will always catch you, the fucking dumbass that I am.” “What do you mean?” “You soften me.” “Why?” “Because I don’t want to fucking kill you! You’re too fun to fuck with. Now Get. The. Hell. Down.

I don't want to like you Lenora, I want to ruin you

He fascinated and infuriated me.

hate is nature’s most flawless drive. It is infinitely renewable, reusable, and fuels people far better than love.

I wished he didn’t look like an angry god and write like a tortured poet. It would have made hating him so much easier.

there’s no superb beauty without some sort of strangeness in the proportions.

It was nine o’clock in the morning, and way too goddamn early for anything that wasn’t coffee and a bullet to the head.

so any second wasted in her presence was time I wasn’t going to get back and could be used doing better things, like scratching my ass or staring at the wall.

But if we were silver, Vaughn Spencer was gold. If we were good, he was brilliant. And when we shone? He gleamed with the force of a thousand suns, charring everything around him. It was like God had carved him differently, paid extra attention to detail while creating him.

And you never asked me—I know, I know, not that you care.” I heard the whine of the ancient door opening, and Len took a step out. “—if I believe in ghosts, too. But here’s your answer: I do, for the exact same reason you do. I don’t believe in literal ghosts, but I believe our past unleashes dog-shaped demons upon us, and they chase us, and that’s what keeps us running. Moving. Living.

Push me, Vaugh, and I'll push back harder. I'm not the same girl you threatened in Carlisle Castle

you want to look at your fiercest protector, at the one person you can always count on, take a good look in the mirror.

But I want to kiss you. A lot. And everywhere. And... "He frowned, rolling his eyes with a sigh. "I guess I don't mind if you end up liking it when I do.

Do you believe in ghost?" I nodded into the crook of her shoulder. "Really?" "Ghosts of our past" "Oh" "Who drive us to be who we are. To do what we do.

Fine-looking things required maintenance, and I lacked the desire to be another pretty face. I didn’t understand the obsession with beauty. We all get old. We all get wrinkles. Life is short. Eat that pizza. Drink that wine.

You were weak. I made you strong. I made you resilient. I made you one of us. Now you take no one's bullshit- not even mine. All in the span of a year. By the time I was done, you no longer needed the black hair and goth bullshit. Everyone feared and respected you. I took away my power and gave it to you, because every time you disrespected me, challenged me, it weakened me. I worked hard so you'd stand up for yourself. I saved you Astalis, and not for the first time.

I could feel him from miles away. I recognized his scent, his touch, the air he brought into the room when he entered. I could spot his dark soul in a carnival teeming with colors and smells. For better or worse, he was the most unique guy I'd ever come across.

This thing between us... it's like a failed organ transplant. My body is rejecting whatever it is I'm feeling. It's foreign and strange in every one of my cells. But it's there. It's like cancer, and it's spreading. I want to purge it out. I want to purge you out, Lenora. You're a distraction I don't need.

Oh God" I muttered. "An angry one." Vaughn's metallic voice hissed from afar.

Shh,” I pressed my index to my lips. “Your thoughts don’t interest me. You’re a pedophile. At least have the dignity to die silently.

Not sure I’m comfortable with something like this living inside my wife’s body.” Vaughn turns around to me now with the chart in his hand, tapping a pink blob the shape of a comma. “Not sure you have much choice.” I grin, sitting back on the bed. “Besides, if you think that’s odd, it’s about to get a hell of a lot weirder.

The minute I set foot in that house, I knew I was born to live there. The ocean called to me. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore lulled me into drugging bliss. Everything was open and beautiful and new. The air felt lighter and crisp. The four of us walked in—Emilia, me, Vaughn, and his father—and the second I stood in the center of the living room, I knew it was my new home. I turned to Vaughn with a smile. “Let’s keep it.” Without a thought, he turned straight to his parents and narrowed his eyes at them. “Is it too late to rebel against your asses? Because you fucked me over real nice and good this time.” His father patted his shoulder with a patronizing smirk. “Watch and learn, son.” “Not sure I’d be dedicating my life to screwing over my imaginary kids, if we wanted to have them,” Vaughn countered. He still thought I wasn’t into the idea of kids. My silly, silly hubby.

Ugly or not, I could still kiss you if I wanted to, and you’d let me.” I choked on the rich cocoa in my mouth, my book dropping to the ground and closing without a bookmark. Shoot. “Why would you ever think that?” I’d turned to him, scandalized. He’d leaned close, one flat chest to another. He’d smelled of something foreign and dangerous and wild. Of golden California beaches, maybe. “Because my dad told me good girls like bad boys, and I’m bad. Really bad.

Your Cuntness has that extra shine today,

Everyone was wearing bikinis and swim shorts under their miserable excuses for clothes. Guys skidded on the damp floors, shooting water guns and chasing each other in the hallways, making it difficult to believe they were the sperm that won.

Fuck, Dad, I promise if I liked dick, you’d be the first to hear all about it. In unnecessary detail, just to make it awkward for both of us.

I wasn’t going to push until he choked to death. I didn’t know much about women, but killing their best friend didn’t seem like a good courting move.

I began shoving pills into his mouth. I didn’t have time for this. I wanted to call my son and see that he was okay, talk to my wife and assure her everything was fine. After his mouth was full of pills, I pushed his head under the water, forcing him to gulp down or choke up. I repeated the action three times, until I was sure he’d swallowed enough drugs to kill a Game of Thrones dragon. His bloodstream would soon be more contaminated than Chernobyl circa 1986.

Fine-looking things required maintenance,

Dad always saw through me. Mom had a sixth sense about knowing what I needed when I needed it before I'd realized I needed it. But Baron Spencer? He read me like a vintage Playboy in a sperm-donation clinic’s waiting room.

Baron,” he whimpered, his face red, swollen, and blotchy with hysteria. “Thank God you’re here. Vaughn clearly needed a voice of reason.” Nice try, motherfucker. I crouched down, digging my heel into the fingers of his healthy hand and meeting his gaze. I heard them crack under my shiny loafers. As soon as he saw what was behind my eyes, his face turned from panicked to ashen. I wasn’t here to strike a deal or to relieve him of his destiny. I was here to collect a debt. Vengeance. My son’s pride. My son’s life. And it’s been long overdue.

Your mom sucks.” “My mum is the best!” I exclaimed hotly. “Besides, I saw you poking sticks at jellyfish. You don’t know anything. You’re nothing but a bad boy.” “Jellyfish don’t have hearts,” he drawled, as if that made it okay. “Just like you.” I’d been unable to stop myself from licking my fingers, eyeing the untouched brownie half in his hand. He’d scowled, but for some reason, he didn’t seem upset by my insult. “They also don’t have brains. Just like you.

His Mel Gibson breath was so flammable he could torch the motherfucking school if he lit a joint.

Don’t worry, Captain Save-a-Ho. I won’t fuck them.

Son, are you gay?” I spat the cognac out, choking on the earthy liquid. Dad remained calm, crossing one leg over the other. “Be frank. You know we don’t care, and we’ll support you no matter what. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.” “There’s nothing wrong with it, all right, but I’m not gay.” He blinked, saying nothing. “Why the fuck would you think that?” “You’re not a huge fan of the other sex.” “I’m not a huge fan of the human race.” “Me either. But then there’s your mother. I am a huge fucking fan of hers.” “Don’t make a groupie sex joke,” I warned sharply. “I like girls just fine.” Dad shook his head. “Not enough to bring them home.” “The back of my truck is just as comfy, and Mom’s not there to offer cookies.” I felt my jawline tensing.