Ruckus Lj Shen Quotes

Stars also symbolize the cycle of life, solitude and gravity. They glow in the dark energy that’s the majority of space, and remind us that even in the pitch black, there’s always something that can shine.

You’re awfully possessive.” …“That’s because you’re awfully mine.

You shine, Baby LeBlanc. So fucking bright sometimes you’re the only thing I see.

Rose LeBlanc got her name for a reason. She was full of fucking thorns. She was so beautiful—so ridiculously, unbelievably alluring—that just like real roses, she grew little spikes to protect herself. Because everyone wanted to have her.

Contrary to general belief, stars don’t twinkle. There is only one star that sparkles that scientists can agree on. It twinkles so bright, sometimes people mistake it for a UFO. It’s not big, but it stands out. That’s Sirius, and it’s also you. You shine, Baby LeBlanc. So fucking bright sometimes you’re the only thing I see.” - Dean "Ruckus" Cole

What makes you feel alive? Regret. For regret reminds you that life has a weight. Sometimes it’s heavier. Sometimes it’s lighter.

I don’t want to make you forget. I want to make you remember. And I’m about to, Rosie.” He breathed hard against my skin. “I’m about to rewrite the pages of our fucking history, baby.

I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much that I hated you for a while. And now that I know that you are damaged, I love you even more. Perfect things are not relatable. Unbreakable is fascinating, but not lovable. You’re breakable, Dean Cole. I’m going to do my best to keep you whole.

There is something you should know before you judge me. I saw him first. I craved him first. I loved him first.

You’re breakable, Dean Cole. I’m going to do my best to keep you whole.

Why do you shine so fucking bright? You make it hard for me to sleep next to you.

Because the birdsong might be pretty, But it’s not for you they sing, And if you think my winter is too cold, You don’t deserve my spring.” Erin Hanson

Forever starts now, Baby Leblanc. With you.

God and Dean are synonyms. Save battery power. Choose one next time you text me. What do you want to have for dinner?

Because I had to sell it and lost a shit-ton of money the moment I realized you were going to be my neighbor if I stayed in my current place. Real talk, Rosie, you are all I ever wanted. Even when you wanted me to be with your sister. She was a comforting candle. You were the dazzling sun. I’d lived in the dark—for your selfish ass. And if you think I’m going to settle for something, you’re dead wrong. I am taking everything. We will have kids, Rose LeBlanc. We will have a wedding. And we will have joy and vacations and days where we just fuck and days where we just fight and days where we just live. Because this is life, Baby LeBlanc, and I love the fuck out of you, so I’m going to give you the best one there is. Got it?

What makes you feel alive? Singing like no one’s listening. Dancing like no one’s watching. Eating like calories don’t exist.

I love you.” Rosie’s tears curtained her vision. “I love you, Baby LeBlanc,” I said. “So fucking much. You taught me how to love. How well did I do?” “A-plus,” she whispered. “You aced it. Can you promise me something?” “Anything.” “Live .” “Not without you.

Dean ‘Ruckus’ Cole was a different kind of asshole to Baron ‘Vicious’ Spencer. He fucked you over with a polite smile on his face. In that sense, he was the Joker. In his mix of confidence, cockiness, good looks, and money, there was a dash of insanity thrown in. Enough to let you know that he meant every word he said.

What does Miss LeBlanc have that the rest of the human population doesn’t?” she inquired, meaning I’d never sent anyone flowers, let alone an amount that could potentially fill a whole forest. I smirked, because the answer was so fucking simple, yet so fucking complicated at the same time. “My heart, Sue,” I said. “She has my heart.

This is happening, Sirius. Sincerely, —Your Bronze Horseman

What makes you feel alive? Dean. Dean Cole makes me feel alive.

MAN, WHAT THE HELL IS your son doing?” “It’s not my son.” “Oh, like hell it’s not.” Trent brings the bottle of beer to his lips, taking a slow sip. “He’s wearing a goddamn multi-colored blazer. It’s Knight, all right.

We’re getting married,” I stated, not asked. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we are. And we’re having kids. At least two. Maybe more. I haven’t decided yet.

Now that I know that it can only ever be you, you're going to get better for me so Earth won't explode. Can you do that, Sirius?

I don't want to make you forget. I want to make you remember. And I'm about to, Rosie.

You deserve everything. Wife, kids, a white picket fence.” “And I’ll have all of it. With you.” “You know that can’t happen with me.” “Then it can’t happen with anyone. There won’t be a next Rosie. And there won’t be another story like ours. This is it, Rose LeBlanc. And this is us. If there is no you, then there is no me.

I’m kind of hoping it will end like this. You made me happy. Very happy. But…you deserve everything. Wife, kids, a white picket fence.” “And I’ll have all of it. With you.” “You know that can’t happen with me.” “Then it can’t happen with anyone. There won’t be a next Rosie. And there won’t be another story like ours. This is it, Rose LeBlanc. And this is us. If there is no you, then there is no me.” “You know, I always hated Romeo and Juliet . The play. The movie. The very idea. It was tragic, all right. Tragically stupid. I mean, they were what? Thirteen? Sixteen? What a waste of life, to kill yourself because your family wouldn’t let you get hitched. But Romeo and Juliet were right. I was the next eleven years killing myself slowly while I grieved for you. Then you came back, and I still thought it was just a fascination. But now that I know…” “Now that I know that it can only ever be you, you’re going to get better for me so Earth won’t explode. Can you do that, Sirius? I promise not to leave this room until you get out. Not even for a shower. Not even to get you your chocolate chip cookies. I’ll get someone to drive all the way to New York and bring them for you.” “I love you.” Rosie’s tears curtained her vision. “I love you, Baby LeBlanc,” I said. “So fucking much. You taught me how to love. How well did I do?” “A-plus,” she whispered. “You aced it. Can you promise me something?” “Anything.” “ Live .” “Not without you.” “And have kids. Lots of them. They’re fun.” “Rosie…” “I’m not afraid. I got what I wanted from this life. You .” “Rosie.” “I love you, Earth. You were good to me.” “Rose!” Her eyes closed, the door opened, the sound on her monitor went off, and my heart disintegrated. Piece. By piece. By piece.

You are chaotic, crazy, and full of wars and angst. But you’re the liveliest place I’ve ever been to.

Most people love whatever’s the closest. What they’re used to.

Timing is everything

He wasn't Sirius. He was planet Earth. He was oxygen. He was everything.

because I still looked every inch of a quarterback monster who only answered to the words ‘God’ and ‘Daddy’.

Love is not perfect. Life is not perfect. Yet, they’re both extremely beautiful things you should treasure every day... And whatever happened in the past belongs just there—the past.

Contrary to general belief, stars don’t twinkle. There is only one star that sparkles that scientists can agree on. It twinkles so bright, sometimes people mistake it for a UFO. It’s not big, but it stands out. That’s Sirius, and it’s also you. You shine, Baby LeBlanc. So fucking bright sometimes you’re the only thing I see.

Love felt like dipping each other in gasoline and burning together. Love felt like dancing with madness in the dark, watching all of its bright lights. Love felt like gasping for air when your lungs were already full.

Like you?” My face twisted in abhorrence, spitting the words like they were revolting. Her eyes widened. I shook my head, a dark chuckle on my lips. “You think I fucking like you? Are you kidding me here? I don’t like you. I love you. Even that’s an under-fucking-statement. I live for you. I breathe for you. I will die for you. It. Has. Always. Been. You. Ever since I saw your sorry ass for the first time on that threshold and you fucking poked me in the chest like I was a toy. We’ve been apart for ten years, Rose LeBlanc, and not even one day has passed without me thinking of you. And not just in passing. You know, the occasional she-could-have-been-a-g reat-fuck. I mean really taking my time to think about you. Wondering what you looked like. Where youwere. What you were doing. Who you were with. I stalked you on Facebook. And Twitter—which, by the way, you need to deactivate because you never once bothered to tweet—but you aren’t exactly a social media animal. I asked about you. Every time I was in town. And once I realized you were in New York with Millie…” “Rosie, I bought a new penthouse in TriBeca a few months before you moved into our building.” “Why are you telling me this?” She blinked away her tears, but fresh ones rolled down to replace them time. “Because I had to sell it and lost a shit-ton of money the moment I realized you were going to be my neighbor if I stayed in my current place. Real talk, Rosie, you are all I ever wanted. Even when you wanted me to be with your sister. She was a comforting candle. You were the dazzling sun. I’d lived in the dark—for your selfish ass. And if you think I’m going to settle for something , you’re dead wrong. I am taking everything . We will have kids, Rose LeBlanc. We will have a wedding. And we will have joy and vacations and days where we just fuck and days where we just fight and days where we just live. Because this is life, Baby LeBlanc, and I love the fuck out of you, so I’m going to give you the best one there is. Got it?

God, oh,” I moan. “Yes, baby, I’m a god, but our son is here. This will have to wait.” “No, Dean. My water just broke.” “Oh,” we all say in unison. “God.

I will come. I will see. I will conquer (and then I will come again).

What does Miss LeBlanc have that the rest of the human population doesn't?' 'My heart, Sue,' I said. 'She has my heart.

Love makes you do crazy, irrational things. Love and death are connected by an invisible string. Pull too hard, and you're gone.

DEAR SELECTIVE AMNESIA, I need you in my life right now. Yours, Hopelessly idiotic girl

Because you’ve already dipped your sausage in my family gravy, and even though I know it’s a secret recipe everyone wants more of, I’m afraid you’re all out of luck.

I love you so much that I hated you for a while. And now that I know that you are damaged, I love you even more. Perfect things are not relatable. Unbreakable is fascinating, but not lovable.

I shouldn’t have drunk three bottles of vodka in twenty-four hours. But I did. Because that bullshit they feed you about hitting rock bottom and seeing the light? It’s just that. A load of crap. In reality, when you hit rock bottom, you lie there for a long, extended nap, because rock bottom is still solid ground. Especially when the rest of your world is hanging on by a feather for balance

My four-year-old is…what is he doing, exactly? I’m not entirely sure, but knowing Knight, it can’t be anything remotely constructive, and it will probably earn him an indefinite amount of naughty spot time. This kid has seen more walls than a mural painter. He is my mini-me on steroids. Swag, attitude, and mischief all wrapped up in an innocent smile.

You couldn’t half-ass parenthood. It wasn’t a lazy Sunday morning fuck. Either you were completely in or you were completely out. Anything in-between was a mindfuck to the kid

It was an impulsive decision, but then anything worth doing usually was. When you think about it, anything passionate—lust, love, violence, hatred—is spontaneous.

The sky was full of stars against all odds. You couldn't really see shit from The Strip, but that night, you could. You could because she was there.

There won't be a next Rosie. And there won't be another story like ours. This is it, Rose LeBlanc. And this is us. If there is no you, then there is no me.

What makes you feel alive? My family. My home. My men. My belly. I'm alive. And my therapist was right. I am going to live forever.

This intense bastard made Siri his bitch

don’t want to make you forget. I want to make you remember. And I’m about to, Rosie.” He breathed hard against my skin. “I’m about to rewrite the pages of our fucking history, baby.

That’s because you’re awfully mine.” “And what on Earth would make you think that? The fact that we slept together?” I pretended to laugh, but there was nothing funny about his statement. Or what we just did. “Nah,” he said, his hand moving to the left side of my chest. He placed it over my heart, and squeezed one time. “This thing right here? It fucking beats for me. You know it. I know it. Keep lying, Rosie. I’ll milk the truth out of you. One way or the other.

I always had a soft spot for this girl, and it seemed like the more she hated me, the more I wanted to prove to her that it was always us. That if I believed in that bullshit of two people who were meant to be with each other, it was because we actually were.

The therapist was good. I’ll give her that. She asked if I remembered being a fetus. I said no. Then she asked if I had any memories of not living. I said no. “That’s what death feels like, Rosie. You won’t remember it happened, so, in a sense, it’s almost like you live forever.

Those of you who know me know that I'm a huge fan of my sister. She's my rock, my soul mate, and the reason that I'm still standing here, alive and well. When her heart beats for someone, mine falls in line and thumps for them too. Baron, there's one thing I cannot take from you–you make her happy. Glow, even... Some loves are old, and sure, others are new and frantic. Yours is both, and that's what made your feelings toward one another outsoar everything. Even the past... I wish you joy, freedom, health, and wealth, though I think you're all covered with the last one... So I guess I would like to make a toast to two of my favorite people. To the woman I love more than life itself, and to the man who spends his life making her happy. Baron and Millie, you don't need my words to make it work. You have this thing covered. But just in case, I wish you everything you wish for yourself and more. Now down these glasses and have some fun.

But when you were on your deathbed, there was no time to be mad. Vindictiveness was thrown out the window, along with any other soul-eating, negative trait that was ingrained in us. When you were on your deathbed, time reminded you just how precious it really was. Feelings were bare and open for the world to see, poke, and dig into.

Some of my favourite songs were about sex before I even knew I could do something with my dick that didn't involve pissing my name in snow.

was the first time I saw her tits, but it took me a few seconds to realize it, because in my mind, she was always naked. Funny how the human brain works.

Se trataba de nosotros. Lo nuestro era algo a largo plazo. Lo nuestro era algo eterno, durara lo que durara la eternidad.

Pues solo es eso. Un montón de mierda. En realidad, cuando tocas fondo, te quedas ahí para echarte una siesta larga y prolongada, porque el fondo sigue siendo tierra firme. Especialmente cundo el resto de tu mundo pende de una pluma que lucha por mantener el equilibrio.

La verdad era que la debilidad invitaba a más debilidad.

Making others feel bad is never gratifying, no matter how badly you're hurt. Compassion, however, is the

The man who filled my heart with music with his silence.

As much as it pained me to admit it, he was fucking right, too. You couldn’t half-ass parenthood. It wasn’t a lazy Sunday morning fuck. Either you were completely in or you were completely out. Anything in-between was a mindfuck to the kid, and I had to remember that, now more than ever.

El amor te empuja a hacer locuras y cosas irracionales. El amor y la muerte están conectados por una cuerda invisible. Tira demasiado fuerte y te habrás ido.

Rosie.” “Hey, listen. I know that you like me…” “Like you?” My face twisted in abhorrence, spitting the words like they were revolting. Her eyes widened. I shook my head, a dark chuckle on my lips. “You think I fucking like you? Are you kidding me here? I don’t like you. I love you. Even that’s an under-fucking-statement. I live for you. I breathe for you. I will die for you. It. Has. Always. Been. You.

Кохання було схоже на те, як ти хапаєш ротом повітря, коли твої легені вже сповнені.

¿Qué te hace sentir viva? Condensación. Porque me recuerda que aún respiro.

I had to play nice with him. But the notion that he could possibly give me every STD listed on WebMD did make it easier to turn him down. A lot easier, actually.

Careful. You smell like Jack Daniel's just came in your mouth,