Melissa Quotes

Sometimes love means letting go when you want to hold on tighter.

Black is the color of night. White is the true color of death

You cannot be with someone just because you don’t want to hurt him. You have your own happiness to think about.

And he smiled at her, truely smiled- wicked and lovely...

we laughed until we had to cry, we loved until we said goodbye.

He looked good, like sin in a suit.

sometimes no matter how many eyelashes or dandelion seeds you blow, no matter how much of your heart you tear out and slap on your sleeve, it just ain't gonna happen.

What does it mean when nightmares dream of peace? When shadows wish for light?

White for light. White for love. White for forever.

Life is too short to read books that I'm not enjoying.

Choose to be happy. It is what we have all done.

Maybe weakness is a strength of a kind.

Talking won't change it. But sometimes it was what she wanted most, to tell someone; often, though, she just wanted to escape those horrid feelings, to escape herself, so there was no pain, no fear, no ugliness.

Never trust a shiny surface. They hide a multitude of flaws.

Love makes you foolish. It makes you throw every bit of logic away, do stupid things, dangerous things.

Mortals are such fragile things. Just tender feelings walking around exposed in their delicate shells...Easy to crush.

He was an answer to a question she'd forgotten to ask.

You. I've spent my life waiting for you.' -Keenan

I don't need anything to get high. I'm high on life.

You say potato; I say potahto...' 'I say integrity; you say deceit.

Once upon a time there was a girl." "Not a princess?!" "No, definitely not! She was too smart to be a princess. Tough too...Stronger than anyone realized." "Does she live happily ever after?" "Shouldn't there be something in the middle?" "I like to read the ending first." (Wicked Lovely)

If she loved him the way she said she did, she wanted him whole. Maybe this was what love meant after all: sacrifice and selflessness. It did not mean hearts and flowers and a happy ending, but the knowledge that another's well-being is more important than one's own.

Sometimes being human sucks.

The world in your mind is as real as the world outside of it.

Chase away sorrow by living

Schuyler pulled Oliver close and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. Thank you for loving me enough to let me go.

Bonds are like rules, they're meant to be broken.

She stood in his kitchen, watching him toy with the ring in his lip. It wasn't quite that he was biting it, but sucking it into his mouth. He did that when he was concentrating. It isn't sexy. He's not sexy. But he was, and she was staring at him like a fool. "wow" she whispered (.....)"Wow, huh?" His voice was low, husky. His chair creaked as he stood. His footsteps seemed strangely loud as he closed the couple yards between them. Then he was beside her. "I can work with wow

Who knew that the path to a womans heart was through the soul of an honest man?

We are what we are, neither a good or as bad as others paint us. And what we are doesn't change how truly we feel, only how free we are to follow those feelings.

Just be you-strong and honest. The rest falls into place if you do that. It always has. It always will. Remember that. No matter what happens over the . . . centuries ahead of you, remember to be honest with yourself. And if you fail, forgive yourself. You'll make mistakes. The whole world is new, and they have so many more years in the then you.

SPENCER: Hide and seek was my favorite game with Melissa. You want to know why? I always won.

She talked like a woman who knew more books than people.

A brain with no heart and no reasoning ... well, nothing is more meaningless.

Like chaos in a glass cage.

My point is, it takes a special person to cry over a book. It shows compassion as well as imagination...Don't ever lose that

We all didn't come into to the world at the same time so it makes sense that we don't leave it at the same time.

Tonight the world is yours, as am I.

But there's always a first time for everything

That was the thing about pictures--they were worth a thousand words, but sometimes they weren't the right ones.

Have you ever tried?' 'No.' 'Then don't tell me I can't.

Seth gave her that: a private space to believe in the illusion of normalcy.

If you get killed. I'm going to be furious." "I love you too. Come On.

After all, what did Prince Charming know about Cinderella besides her shoe size?

I'd stop anyone from taking that smile from you. I would, if I were allowed.

His blue-black hair fell over his face when he moved, like tiny arrows pointing to pronounced cheeckbones. "Starting to think you were going to bail on me." "Didn't know you were expecting me," she said in what she hoped was a casual voice. He gets sexier every day. "Not Expecting, but hoping. Always hoping

Happiness is a choice.

One should not seek those who do not wish to be found.

It was the only way he knew to protect the court, the faery, and the only mortal who'd ever mattered to him.

...I like to be around all these books. They’re very good at making you forget your troubles. It’s like having a million friends, wrapped in paper and scrawled in ink

He didn't slam the door, didn't rage, didn't weep, he simply left.

What would I do without you?" "You'll never find out.

He kissed her, and their souls melted into each other in a melody older than time.

Stab one or two healers, and everyone overreacts.

Thank you for loving me enough to let me go.

Do you ever wonder if what you look at is the same thing everyone else is seeing?' He went even stiller at her side. 'Sometimes I'm sure it isn't the same...but that's not so bad is it? Seeing the world in a different way?' Creative vision creates art' he motioned around the gallery 'that shows the rest of the world a new angle. That's a beautiful thing.

I remembered less from my own life than I did from the books I read.

Love. It's so close to hate, it's almost indistinguishable. But this is how it was for the two of them. Love and hate. Life and death. Joy and anguish.

I felt I couldn't lose anything else, but just then I realized I already had: I'd lost the hope that I would ever be loved in just that way again.

I'm tired of being your best friend. I'm tired of being second best. I won't settle for that anymore. It's all or nothing, Schuyler. You have to decide. Him or me. - Oliver Hazzard-Perry

He knew what it was like to love one who did not--or could not--love you back. But he'd had no choice. None of them did.

I'm not bloodthirsty, but...seriously, she killed you. She needs to be dead.

It's common knowledge that shiny rocks are preferred among human females.

I am going to a conference tomorrow," she said. "In Portland. Dr. Melissa Sanchez will speak. She says you think your way to a sexier you. Hormones are powerful drugs. Unless we tell them what we want, they backfire. They work against us." Dorothea turned, pointing the Ajax can at me for emphasis. "Now I wake in the morning and take red lipstick to my mirror. 'I am sexy,' I write. 'Men want me. Sixty-five is the new twenty-five.

As if fixing the little errors would made the big stuff manageable.

I don't know why certain people shine for others. I don know why you and not someone else

Her grandmother had once told her that one of life's best lessons was not being afraid to look foolish -- to just ask the question.

Scoot over," she whispered. The mattress shook with his movement. "A little more," she said. "If I get any closer to the wall," he hissed, "I'll have to buy it dinner.

Life was a big thing to live without a map.

Her dad's voice boomed from inside the house. "I've got a Glock, a shovel, and five acres of woods, Johnson!

It was so nice just to live in the moment, to enjoy holding him so closely, to pretend for a little while that they were merely two young people in love and nothing else.

Stories always begin the same way: There was and there was not. There is possibility in those words, the chance for hope or despair.

Even if they end up together, which I highly doubt, given the strength of that particular bond-...-but even if Schuyler still loves him, or thinks she does, it doesn't matter. Because Jack is going to leave her one day. i know he will. He's too much for Schuyler. They're wrong for each other. Anyone can see that. And when he leaves her, I'll be there. However long it takes, I'll still be there for her. Waiting.

Then he kissed her, not just a brush of lips as she'd done, but a kiss a kiss that scalded her tongue. The tree burst into full blooms. The garden fluttered around her. A riot of flowers shot out of the earth. She was mud-covered as he pulled back.

Remember all fairy tales end at some point.

Tell me i'm not losing more of you to him every fucking day. -Seth

I still love you. I will always love you, and that is all that matters. I will forgive you anything, and I will forgive you this.

I need to check in with Seth before I--" he burrowed his face into the side of her neck, his breath almost painfully warm on her throat--"give in to my unconscionable desire to put my hands on you properly.

There are worse things in the world to be than delicate. If you're delicate, it means no one has tried to break you.

sometimes, when the sun shines, it scorches.

Oliver liked to play the part of disaffected youth, but he liked shopping in SoHo even more.

We are all children until our fathers die.

...she wasn't reading Deathly Hallows at all. Her book wasn't orange but rose and water and sand, and featured a kid on a broomstick and white unicorn. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. She didn't notice me staring at her. 'Oh, I envy you,' I thought, but was smiling for her. She had just begun.

In all of eternity, no faery born has overcome me in anything.' Aaah. Pride goeth before the fall, my friend"--Irial stood and clasped Devlin's hand--"but you've already fallen, haven't you?' And to that, Devlin had no answer.

Keenan was staring at her, too intently for comfort. "I don't know why certain people shine for others. I don't know why you and not someone else." He gently pulled her forward and whispered, "But it's you I think of when I wake each morning. It's your face in my dreams." Aislinn swallowed. That would seem odd even if he were normal. And he wasn't. What he was-unfotunately-was completely serious.

You want to see safe hands?' her dad asked. He went to the fruit bowl on the side of the table, took two apples and proceeded to juggle them. 'See? Safe as anything.' 'Are you proposing you juggle our newborn child?' 'Of course not,' he said. 'I'd only be able to juggle her if you'd had twins. Otherwise it would just be throwing.' (...) 'From this moment on, I will be the best father the world has ever seen. Wifey, may I please hold my child?' Valkyrie's mum looked at him suspiciously. 'When you hold a baby, what's the most important thing to remember?' 'Not to drop it,' he said proudly. 'Well, yes, well done dear, but I was thinking more about how you hold the baby.' 'Ah,' he said, 'Of course. The secret to holding a baby is to pick it up by the scruff of its neck.' 'You're thinking of kittens.' 'Pick it up by the ears, then.' 'You're thinking of nothing.' 'Can I please just hold her?' 'I don't think that's wise.' 'A lot of things aren't wise, Melissa. Is crossing the road with your eyes closed wise? No, but I do it anyway.' His wife nodded. 'Stephanie, you are in charge of teaching Alice how to cross the road.

Irial!” “Still here.” Irial didn’t open his eyes, but he smiled a little. “You’re an ass,” Niall said, but he kept his hands on Irial’s chest so that he could feel both pulse and breath. “You too, Gancanagh,” Irial murmured.

In the end mortals always expired before faeries. They were such finite creatures. Their first heartbeat and breath were but a blink from death. To add the weight of nourishing his insatiable court in a time of peace was to hasten that unconscionably.

He prepared the richest, most indulgent and disgusting dish imaginable - a bowl of fudge ripple ice-cream topped with chocolate syrup, semi-sweet chocolate morsels, chocolate sprinkles, and, for good measure, a chocolate brownie from the pantry. He even garnished it with a handful of M&M's. (...) "Look what I made for you. A bowl of diabetes.

Every Valentine's Day, the student council sponsered a holiday fundraiser by selling roses that would be delievered in class. The roses came in four colors:white, yellow, red, pink, and the subtleties of thier meaning were parsed and analyzed by the female population to no end. Mimi had always understood it thus:white for love, yellow for friendship, red for passion, and pink for a secret crush.

Wait--we have one left," the runner said, bringing out what was surely the most expensive bouquet of all: a three-foot tall arrangement of two hundred white roses, in the palest ivory color. All the girls swooned. Almost no boys bought white roses ever. It was a big sign of commitment. But this one practically trumpeted a captured heart. The runner set the bouquet in front of Schuyler. Mimi raised an eyebrow. She had always won the roses lottery. What was this all about? For me?" Schuyler asked, awestruck by the size of the thing. She took the card from the tallest stem. For Schuyler, who doesn't like love stories." It was not signed.

I told them he'd be able to get you to go out." Rianne folded her winnings and tucked the bills into her blazer pocket. "Look at him." "He's right here, Ri," Carla murmured, shooting Keenan an apologetic look. "We've tried to teach her manners, but..." She shrugged. "It's like housebreaking a dog. If we'd had her when she was a puppy, maybe." Rianne smacked her on the arm, but she was grinning. "Woof, woof.

Everyone is supposed to be a combination of nature and nurture, their true selves shaped by years of friends and fights and parents and dreams and things you did too young and things you overheard that you shouldn’t have and secrets you kept or couldn’t and regrets and victories and quiet prides, all the packed-together detritus that becomes what you call your life.

Bet you can't even name one romantic movie you like," she teased. She felt smug when a few minutes went by and Oliver was still unable to name one romantic movie he could profess to enjoy. The Empire Strikes Back," Oliver finally declared, tapping his horn at a Prius that wandered over the line. The Empire Strikes Back? The Star Wars movie? That's not romantic!" Schuyler huffed, fiddling with the air conditioner controls. Au contraire, my dear, it's very romantic. The last scene, you know, when they're about to put Han in that freezing cryogenic chamber or whatever? Remember?" Schuyler mmm-hmmmed. And Leia leans over the ledge and says, 'I love you.'" That's cheesy, not romatic," Schuyler argued, although she did like that part. Let me explain. What's romantic is what Han says back. Remember what he says to her? After she says 'I love you'?" Schuyler grinned. Maybe Oliver had a point. "Han says, 'I know.'" Exactly," Oliver tapped the wheel. "He doesn't have to say anything so trite as 'I love you." Because that's already understood. And that's romantic.

She nodded... and was about to turn away. Then, as if she thought better of it, she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Jack." "Yes?" "I. . ." she faltered. She knew what she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. It turned out she didn't have to. Jack put a hand to his heart and nodded. "I feel the same way about you.

I wake up scared and I'm scared all day. I'm scared of being scared. Scared of "losing it". Scared of not being able to function. Scared of being hospitalized. Scared that I am not okay. Scared of what life is and if I am wasting mine. Scared that I have no home - that even the place I call home has no bottom to it and I will just keep falling under and under and under.

After a steadying breath, Aislinn turned to Keenan. "I'm sure you can figure out lunch without help. So, umm, go make friends or whatever." And she walked away. He sped up to stay beside her as they entered the cafeteria. "May I join you?" "No." He stepped in front of her. "Please?" "No." She dropped her bag into a chair next to Rianne's things. Ignoring him-and the stares they were attracting-she opened her bag. He hadn't moved. With a shaky gesture, she pointed. "The line's over there." He looked at the throng slowly progressing to the vats of food. "Can I get you something?" "A little space?" A flare of anger flashed over his too-beatiful face, but he said nothing. He just walked away.

But why me? Because, idiot, you... are funny and smart and you have a giant heart that you can't even pretend to hide. And you love your friends and your mum, and you held my hand and made me sing when I was so scared I thought I was going to die. I knew you understood, right from the beginning, this thing inside, the stuff in your head that you need to make real. You get that.... And you wear stupid Superman pyjamas without any irony, and your face lights up when you talk about the movies you love.... And... you protect my dwarf. You always have her back. And you have a dimple when you smile that's so cute I almost died the first time I saw it.

He reached out and caressed her face. With a serious expression, he traced the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "You‘re beautiful, Ani. In all of eternity, there‘s never been another faery who could make me want to forget everything and everyone else." "Because you like the way I look?" She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, my dream mind is shallow." "No, not the exterior. You… the tempers and follies and passion… even the way you care for that infuriating steed."Devlin gazed at her like she was precious. "Even knowing you could be fatal, I would‘ve said yes." Her chest hurt like she had held her breath too long as she asked, "To?" "Whatever you wanted." He didn‘t reach out and pull her into his embrace. Instead, he took one step forward, leaned down, and kissed her.

Prove it!" she hissed. "Prove you are who you are!" "We don't have time for this! You really want me to prove who I am?" he asked. "Yes!" she challenged. In answer, he took her in his arms, lifting her up and against the wall. He pressed his lips against hers, and with each kiss she could see into his mind, into his soul. She saw a year of hate...saw him alone, alienated, hurt. She had lied to him and had left him. With every kiss he made her see, made her feel...every emotion, every dream he had of her...every ounce of his wanting and his need...and his love...his all-consuming, life-affirming love for her. In the darkness they found each other again...and she kissed him back, so greedily and hungrily, she never wanted to stop kissing him...to feel his heart against hers, the two of them intertwined together, his hands in her hair, then down the small of her back. She wanted to cry from the overwhelming emotion that engulfed the two of them.... "Now do you belive me?" Jack asked huskily, pulling away from a moment so they could look into each other's eyes. Schuyler nodded, breathless. Jack. Every fiber of her being tingled with love and desire and remorse and forgiveness. Oh Jack...the love of her life, her sweet, her soul...