Ryder Quotes

The name’s Jude Ryder, since I know you’re all but salivating like a rabid dog to know, and I don’t do girlfriends, relationships, flowers or regular phone calls. If that works for you, I think we could work out something special.

I think too much. I think ahead. I think behind. I think sideways. I think it all. If it exists, I’ve fucking thought of it.

Whoa,” a stunned voice said, whistling a row below me. “You’re the girl Jude Ryder’s going to marry and make baby superheroes with?

Jaeden laughed under her breath. "Caia, it's called a crush. Believe me, Ryder makes me feel the same horrible mixture of happiness and despair. Add a pinch of lykan volatility and you've got yourself the teenage hormonal party from Hades.

No one could really hate a saint, could they? They can't really hate God either. When they want to Hate Him and His saints they have to find something like themselves and pretends it's God and hate that.

Mom told me that love is like a seed. You've got to plant it to grow. But that's not all. You need to water it. The sun needs to shine enough, but not too much. The roots have to take hold," he continued, narrowing his eyes in concentration. "And from there, if it pops its head above the surface, there are about a million things that could kill it, so it takes a whole lot of luck too.

I'll try," he said, stretching his neck. "She's beautiful girl, Ryder. You're a lucky man." "Don't tell me what I have like I don't know it," Jude said, his arms stiffening.

You ordered me here,” I said finally breaking the silence. “I did,” Ryder said with his lopsided grin that looked more dangerous than friendly. “I’m here,” I mumbled. “You are.” "..." “Okay, we gonna measure dicks all day Ryder, or are we gonna sign a contract?” I snapped. “You don’t have a dick Syn, I would have noticed,” Ryder’s smile lifted roguishly.

You are the one with the cut eyebrow and busted up face, you need the ice more than I do, princess." Dominic's brothers snorted. "I like her," Ryder said. "I like her more and more each time she insults him," Damien chuckled. "Fuck you both," Dominic grinned as he continued to move towards me.

That it doesn't matter why I ran," he said, staring at me without blinking, "because I came back. I'll always come back, Luce. No matter how many rip-roaring fights we have and no matter how many miscommunications we have. I'll always come back because you're where I belong.

I couldn’t believe the universe was so big, and I got placed on this random floating rock at the same time as Clementine Ryder.

In the most connected time in history, we're quickly losing touch with ourselves.

Destiny doesn't ask you if you want it Syn, it just forces it into your lap and deal with it. -RYDER

My patience is an infinite lake. Feel free to drown yourself.

How did people keep finding me? I spent all this time and money making a secret hideout and literally everyone I’ve met in the last two days now knew where it was.

The name's Jude Ryder since you're going to be my wife soon. And I didn't used to do girlfriends, flowers, or dates. And then I met you, and that didn't work for you. So I changed for you and you changed for me too,

Each Bullet Journal becomes another volume in the story of your life. Does it represent the life you want to live? If not, then leverage the lessons you've learned to change the narrative in the next volume.

Imitation is not inspiration, and inspiration only can give birth to a work of art. The least of man's original emanation is better than the best of borrowed thought.

Did you just tweak my nipple?” “Is that rhetorical?” “Beware, chatty girl, I can retaliate.” “Promise? Ooh, I like that smolder, it’s very Flynn Ryder.” “You’re comparing me to cartoon characters now?” “Animated characters. Huge difference. And it’s cute that you know who he is.

Emmy Ryder might have been in like with me, but it was then that I knew I was falling in love with her.

I’m not good enough for you,” I whisper against her lips. Alarm fills her eyes. “Ryder—” “I don’t know if I’ll ever be. But I want to try.

I took you out to dinner to warn you of charm. I warned you expressly and in great detail of the Flyte family. Charm is the great English blight. It does not exist outside these damp islands. It spots and kills anything it touches. It kills love; it kills art; I greatly fear, Charles, it has killed you.' [Anthony Blanche to Charles Ryder]

Better make it a good one.

Ryder, we got a problem,” Ristan called from beyond the other side of the etched-glass shower door. “Someone had better be dying, Ristan,” Ryder growled when he'd pulled away from kissing me. “They might be. You need to come see this.” “We will be right there,” Ryder called out as I slid down his hard body. He watched me with a smirk and then placed his hand on my arm to move me from beneath the water, so he could rinse off. I watched him, unable to pull my eyes off of his hands as they roved over his body.He was quicksand, and I was sinking. “Did you say we?” Ristan asked. I blushed from my head to my Paint Your Toron-Toes Rose colored toenails. I opened the shower door and stepped out meeting Ristan's eyes. “Don't ask.” “How the…did you sift into his shower?” he asked, bubbling with laughter. “I said don't ask! It wasn't my fault. I was sleeping!” I shouted as both men laughed even harder. “Real mature, just real fucking mature!

No tricks, Syn,” Ryder growled from where he stood a few feet away. “Tricks are for kids, silly rabbit,” I said

Told you not to tell her.” “That's not how I work things. That's not how you build a relationship.” “Build a relationship.” Ryder snorted as he sent the drill whirling again. “You've been reading again.” “Blow me.

At his core, Weston Ryder was gentle, and I thought that was the best thing that a man could be.

What are you reading?” “ ‘Ryder’ by Greta Maloney,” he said, closing the book and placing it back into his rucksack. “Any good?” I asked, wanting to find another subject to talk about other than my nightmare. “It’s creepy,” he smiled at me.

What?” Ryder huffed. “Come on that was funny! That was comic gold right there.” She shrugged, enjoying teasing him. “It was OK. Kind of elementary.” “Elementary? It’s an effing joke.” “Whatever.” His groan could probably be heard for five miles. “Aw this is going to be a looong drive home.

Inevitably we find ourselves tackling too many things at the same time, spreading our focus so thin that nothing gets the attention it deserves. This is commonly referred to as "being busy." Being busy, however, is not the same thing as being productive.

Ryder Delaney was the one imperfection in my life.He was the bad boy,black sheep,the one your mother always warned you about.He had only one hard-and-fast rule-Don't Fall In Love

I go in on your arm and we separate. To make me look unavailable, since Vlad likes what he can’t have, I play dumb blonde and make myself sexy.” I glared as Adam barked with laughter at my words.“No going off of the plan, when he takes you in the back room—and he will, you work the information out of him without blowing your cover, or him.” I shot the glare to Ryder. “I have no intention of bobbing on Vlad’s knob. Or yours.” I tossed into remove the wide smirk my response had given him and it worked.

Jude had promised me that the money and the fame wouldn’t change him, and he’d been right. He still swaggered around in his Cons and Levi’s and drank cheap beer, but, most important, he still looked at me like I was his whole world.

Before that night, I didn't grasp that the shadows that sometimes crossed her face weren't momentary clouds passing in front of the sun. Her deep silences were more than daydreams. And her habit of standing with her arms wrapped around her ribs was a way of holding herself together. I didn't get there must be balance. She couldn't hold so much life, light and joy without also containing their opposites.

The things you don’t know or realize are an ocean, and your mind is a tiny boat upon its waves.

I was so caught up in my own misery that I forgot a simple truth: As long as our hearts are beating, there is always opportunity.

Luca is worth it. Perhaps that was what surprised Ryder most. No matter who found out about him and Luca, or how people's opinions of him might change, anything he might lose would pale in comparison to what he had gained. He felt the truth of that right down to his bones.

So, you’re hitting on Clare the Fair.” “I’m not hitting on her. I’m exploring the possibility of seeing her on social terms.” “He’s hitting on her,” Owen said around a mouthful of chips. “You’ve still got that thing you had for her back in high school. Are you still writing bad song lyrics about heartbreak?” “Suck me. And they weren’t that bad.” “Yeah, they were,” Ryder disagreed. “But at least now we don’t have to listen to you playing your keyboard and howling them down the hall.

So Jude was still Jude, I was still me, and we were still us. About the only thing that had changed was our bank account, just like he’d promised.

He leaned closer, his lips almost touching my ear. “I don’t need to see your face or smell you. I could tell it was you by the way you rode your horse.

That's why an Angelina Jolie is always going to win over a Winona Ryder. Fuckups are more interesting.

The more content you try to capture during a lecture or a meeting, the less you're thinking about what's being said. You burn through most of your attention parroting the source.

Suzanne had totally forgotten about their court date since she'd been a little busy having tons of condom-free sex with Ryder, planning Nikki's wedding, and forming a placenta.

We can be friends for now. But West Ryder, if you think this means I won't fight for you with every last breath I have, you're in for a hell of a surprise.

Garrett Graham battling tears when he handed his daughter over to Ryder was probably the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.

We don’t always understand other people’s pain, Ryder. Just because we can't see it, doesn’t mean they aren’t hurting.

Ever heard of knocking, asshole?" I spat, not bothering to look at him. "Ever heard of locking the door, whore?" Turning, I glared at him and slammed the door in his face, locking it. Smirking, he yanked the door back open. "Oh I guess I forgot to mention that the lock is broken." - Christopher Mason & Mia Ryder

Bend me over, pull my hair, whisper more dirty things that will make me tremble with need, Ryder, and then fuck me like you mean it.Fuck me like I am the air you need to live. I don't want to be your world; I just want to be your favorite part of it

Marten blinked at me and said in a hushed voice, “Why are we hiding in the bathroom?” “We are not hiding. We’re executing an evasive maneuver.

Like building muscle, we need to train our intentions to make them resilient and strong.

Prove it to me,” I whispered. “Prove to me you aren't an ass and I'm all yours.

Okay. I hear you. Be careful what you wish for, Princess.

Eight years had passed. Everything about me had changed, but I was still in love with Derek Gaunt.

Ninety-five percent of all the species that have ever existed are now extinct, so don’t look so goddamn smug. —GERARD RYDER

I would never have to wonder what it was like to be loved, because Weston Ryder would love me all the way.

Not everyone works like that. Some need, and want to be loved by one man alone. When I love someone, I give them everything I have and don’t expect to get anything back in return for it. I’d never tear you down, Ryder; not if you were mine. Besides, you told me once before that love was worth fighting for.

Hold on.” Beckett shot out a hand, shoved Ryder back. “Are you saying Mom and Willy B are . . .” “That’s what I’m saying. And they have been for a couple years now.” “Fuck,” Ryder muttered. “Don’t say fuck when he’s telling us about Mom and Willy B. I don’t want that verb and those names together in my head.

Something was fighting back, telling my gut to take a hike. Something wanted Jude Ryder in my life, no matter the consequences or the outcome. And whatever that something was, I liked it.

Ryder: “Well, you’re not the type I want to be my first either.” Grace:“What?” Ryder: “You’re the type I want to be my last. You know...the settle down and marry sort. If you’re my first, then I won’t get to—I don’t know—sow any wild oats or anything.

Fortunately, Luke's unwavering faith in his father's innate goodness had proved to be a stronger force than the power of the dark side.

I should have spanked you harder,” Ryder growled. “Wow, can I watch?” Aodhan said as he rounded the corner and interrupted our fight. “No!” we both shouted as one. “Damn, but I like bitches who like to be spanked. If you hit that sweet spot…they melt.” I turned and glared at him. Ryder growled, which was ten times scarier than my glare.

Derek leaned toward me. “You paid him?” “It’s faster.” “Or I can put his head into my mouth.” “That doesn’t seem sanitary. Wouldn’t you taste their hair? Is that just a thing you do because you get bored in Alaska?

To succeed in life, you need three things: a wishbone, a backbone and a funnybone!

Cultivating this self-awareness is a lifelong process, but it starts by simply checking in with yourself.

It was dead contrary to the common experience of such encounters, when time is found to have built its own defensive lines, camouflaged vulnerable points, and laid a field of mines across all but a few well-trodden paths, so that, more often than not, we can only signal to one another from either side of the tangle of wire.

This caveman just made your panties wet with a kiss, and you’re the only item on the menu that I want to dine on.” A delicious shiver crept down my spine. “I'm not food.” “You’re right, Syn. You are so much more…and I wouldn’t want word getting out that I like to play with my food.” I pulled away. “It's not funny, and I'm not a fucking Fairy happy meal, Ryder!

We walked home in silence,which I guess was pretty normal, since he was a dog after all.When we arrived at the house, he wasn't impressed at all.In fact, he showed me just how unimpressed he was by growling at the walls for at least three straight hours. “Enough already. The wall is not gonna bark back, Mister Fancy Pants!” He growled at me.Maybe he didn’t like his name? “Don't pee on my carpet,no sniffing, no barking, and no chewing while I'm gone. Stay away from the coffee—touch it and you're gone.” He blinked at me and then snapped his head back at the walls and went back to circling them like a sentry—well,a growling, whining sentry. My cell phone rang, startling me, and I answered it.I winced as the dog continued to go off at the walls as if they would attack him. “Stop barking!” “What?” Ryder asked. “I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Mister Fancy Pants.” I should seriously change his name. It was too long. “Who the fuck is Mister Fancy Pants?” I snickered as he said my dog's name. Coming out of his mouth, it really sounded bad.

Kissing Red must've killed off some of your brain cells," Ryder decided. "You can tell a woman what to do---if you play it right---and maybe, maybe half the time she'd do it, or something close to it. That's a live woman. A dead one? I figure that's closer to zero.

it's a great thing in life to have a place you can't be moved from - too few of them

It's part organization, part soul-searching, part dream-weaving.

One should not, in any case, attempt to make a virtue out of one's limitations.

Tell him my girl comes before football. Tell him my girl's breakfast comes before football.

I wanted you to show me that you loved me. I wanted you to fight for me.

Hi, I’m Jude Ryder Jamieson,” he began, extending his hand. I took it, shaking it. He held onto it when I tried to pull it back. “My mom left when I was thirteen. My dad’s serving a life sentence for killing a young kid. I spent the last five years in a boys’ home being bullied, beat, and abused by the kids, the staff, and even the goddamn dog. I sold drugs. I did drugs. I got arrested. A lot. I screwed a lot of faceless women.” He paused, sucking in a breath. “And then I met one whose face I couldn’t forget. I fell in love with her. I hurt her because I fell in love with her and was afraid she was going to leave me the way everyone else had.” He lifted his other hand, cradling mine between his. “I still love her.

I'll be strong for you, Syn …if you need it. You don’t always have to be the strong one. I'll be your glue if you want to crumble. I'll hold you together," he said, lifting his eyes and meeting mine. "And what if you're what's making me crumble, Ryder? What then?" His lips lifted into his sexy smirk. "Then I'll put you back together. I will never tear you down, Syn. I will always protect you from anything and everything that would.

I would strangle her in a minute. I sat down at the table and smiled at her. “My patience is an infinite lake. Feel free to drown yourself.” There were times when ancient proverbs came in handy.

I wanted you to show me that you loved me. I wanted you to fight for me. I wanted you to do the ridiculous werewolf mating thing, where you bring me food, and flirt with me, and growl at any other male who tries to hit on me.

Dakkan, my spear. My grandmother had a huge problem with that name, because the closest translation of it to English would be “Stabby.” She claimed it wasn’t a proper name for a weapon, so after the first Dakkan broke, I offered to name the new one Sharpy McStabbison, the Son of Stabby, after which she groaned and left my quarters, followed by a throng of her advisors all giving me reproachful looks.

Here I am,' I thought, 'back from the jungle, back from the ruins. Here, where wealth is no longer gorgeous and power has no dignity.

The problem with Conlan was that he had his father’s unshakeable confidence and his mother’s mouth.

I’d been in Atlanta for less than a day. It was entirely too early to start killing people.

Many painters are afraid of the blank canvas, but the blank canvas is afraid of the painter who dares and who has broken the spell of “you can’t” once and for all. —VINCENT VAN GOGH

I’ve been inside of your head since the day you were created. I set the events in motion that created who you are and who you were meant to be. Ryder was only following what I’d given him for his path. He had to see the evil, which he’d been born of to stop it. You had to endure hell to become a warrior and protector. Sometimes living through something so horrible will shape our minds, and make us stronger in the end. Like you.

Mark Twain once wrote, “I’ve had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened.”49 Worry has a way of holding our attention hostage. This is especially true for things we can’t control due to the elevated level of uncertainty. We burn through a lot of resources obsessing over possible outcomes and forming contingency plans, but in reality we’re just fueling our anxiety. Trying to think our way out of situations beyond our control may feel productive, but it’s nothing more than a powerful distraction. Worry baits us with the promise of a solution but usually offers none.

For most of us, “being busy” is code for being functionally overwhelmed.

Your life can end at any time, and it can end more than once. But it can also begin more than once.

We burn through a lot of resources obsessing over possible outcomes and forming contingency plans, but in reality we’re just fueling our anxiety.

The truth was probably that they were just afraid of vaginas, afraid that they’d fail to understand one as pretty and pink as mine, and they were ashamed of their own sensual inadequacies, afraid of their own dicks, afraid of themselves. So they focused on “abstract ideas” and developed drinking problems to blot out the self-loathing they preferred to call “existential ennui.” It was easy to imagine those guys masturbating to Chloë Sevigny, to Selma Blair, to Leelee Sobieski. To Winona Ryder.

The artist should fear to become the slave of detail. He should strive to express his thought and not the surface of it. What avails a storm cloud accurate in form and color if the storm is not therein?

I love the way you feel inside me,” he said. Ryder made a low, rumbling noise of contentment. “I love the way I feel inside you, too.” “I love that you did this for me because you wanted to give me something special.” Luca started rocking back and forth on Ryder’s cock. “I love that you’ve never done it for anyone else.” Ryder’s brow creased. “Luca…” Luca put his hand over Ryder’s mouth, a domineering gesture that silenced Ryder instantly. He didn’t know where the words were coming from, just that they were clawing at his throat, demanding to get out. “I love the way you treat me,” he said. “I love that you’re so much stronger than me but you never make me feel weak. I love that you take care of me without implying that I can’t take care of myself. I love that you let me take control but always call me on my bullshit.” Luca had to pause for a moment; the pleasure of their slow, rhythmic fucking was making it difficult for him to gather his thoughts. Ryder waited, eyes watchful. “I love that you’re always worried about doing the right thing, even when nobody else is.” Certain that Ryder wouldn’t interrupt now, Luca let go of his mouth and braced his hands on Ryder’s chest. He bounced shallowly on Ryder’s cock, soaking up his size, his strength, his steady, reassuring presence. “I love that I can trust you, and I love that I can rely on you, and – and I love you, Ryder, I do, I love you – ” Because he did, of course he did. It was crazy to pretend that he didn’t. He might be damning them both, but he couldn’t hide from this any longer, couldn’t let Ryder go on thinking he wasn’t head-over-heels in love with him.

Then, lifting me up, his head fell back and he opened his mouth wide. “Once I let Lucy Larson into my heart! I was able to take my sad, shitty song and make it better!” he sung, off key and at full volume. Some of the students around us tipped their beers at him, some broke in during the “Nah, nah, nah,” chorus, and a few looked at him like he was a crazy man. But I just laughed—I already knew he was crazy. And I loved him for it. “I think that’s called taking creative liberties with the lyrics.

Before I knew it, my daily schedule had started to look a lot like this: Monday: Woke up, thought of Ryder; went to school, stared at Ryder; had lunch with J, gaped at Ryder; went to PE, brooded over Ryder's absence; went home, thought of Ryder; took a drive "accidentally" passing by Dave's Garage, spied on Ryder; came home, thought of Ryder; had dinner, no appetite due to lack-of Ryder; went to bed, tossed and turned thinking about Ryder. Tuesday: See above, with minor adjustments. Wednesday: Ryder wasn't in school, my world collapsed Thursday: Same as Monday and Tuesday Friday: See above. Saturday: Nightmarishly long, boring. Drove by Dave's Garage twice, hoping to see Ryder. Sunday: See above, minus the drive-by. But, yay, tomorrow I'll see Ryder in school! God bless Mondays.

I'll tell you about Ryder. He's the star quarter back of our Division 1A state championship football team. Top student in our class, he doesn't even have to work for it. He plays the piano like some kind of freaking prodigy, and I wouldn't be surprised if he composed sonatas or something in his spare time. Oh, and did I mention that he's gorgeous? Of course he is. Six foot four, two hundred ten pounds of swoon-worthy good looks. Spiky dark hair, chocolate brown eyes, and full-on dimples.

She tried to offer Ella help but was shooed back into her seat between Magnus and Irini. She watched incredulously at the amount of food these males piled onto their plates. She hadn’t touched her own plate yet, her eyes jumping from Lucien to Ryder, to Aidan, to Magnus, as they scoffed large amounts of beef down. Irini giggled beside her before elbowing her to get her to stop staring and start eating. Ella laughed, obviously having noticed and understood the reason behind Caia’s wide eyes. “Don’t mind them, honey. They’re just animals. You’ll get used to them.” Ryder choked in amusement as he took swig of water, and Aidan and Magnus joined his laughter. Lucien merely shrugged. “What?” This set them off again. “Dude, we’ve frightened Caia with our non-existent manners,” Aidan explained smiling at her. “No, no-” she tried to protest. Lucien frowned. “We’re just eating.” “Caia’s not used to eating at the watering hole.

Ese chico roto en la playa parecía como hace una vida. Los años habían pasado, colegio y la NFL, matrimonio y un bebé, pero de vez en cuando, cuando Jude miraba hacia mí y me daba esa lenta mirada, con esa sonrisa conocida en él, yo era esa chica en bikini negro de nuevo, anhelando por un chico que nunca pensé que podría ser mío.

Well, you see, she was saintly but she wasn't a saint. No one could really hate a saint, could they? They can't really hate God either. When they want to hate him and his saints they have to find something like themselves and pretend it's God and hate that. I suppose you think that's all bosh.

I sit down and say, and I run all my friends and relatives and enemies one by one in this, without entertaining any angers or gratitudes or anything, and I say, like 'Japhy Ryder, equally empty, equally to be loved, equally a coming Buddha,' then I run on, say to 'David O. Selznick, equally empty, equally to be loved, equally a coming Buddha' though I don't use names like David O. Selznick, just people I know because when I say the words 'equally a coming Buddha' I want to be thinking of their eyes, like you take Morley, his blue eyes behind those glasses, when you think 'equally a coming Buddha' you think of those eyes and you really do suddenly see the true secret serenity and the truth of his coming Buddhahood. Then you think of your enemy's eyes.

BD: It gets better. Ted Moynohan at this point is in charge of the Atlanta Chapter. DA: That fuckhead again. The gift that keeps on giving. I still don’t understand how he got to be the Knight-Protector. If that man was in charge of nothing except his own dick, sooner or later he’d suspect it of presenting a danger to humanity.

Bronagh,” I said, grinning at my sister. “What is your favourite position in bed?” Dominic looked at his lady, a smirk playing on his lips. Bronagh mulled my question over in her mind then after some serious consideration she said, “Near the wall, so I’m closest to me phone when it’s chargin’.” I tittered at her answer, then looked to Dominic and burst into laughter. The look of hurt and betrayal was plastered all over his sculpted face. “Kicking me in the nuts would have been less painful, Bronagh,” he muttered as he stood up and practically dragged himself, and his wounded ego, out of the room

[...] but they and I had fallen apart, as one could in England and only there, into separate worlds, little spinning planets of personal relationship; there is probably a perfect metaphor for the process to be found in physics, from the way in which, I dimly apprehend, particles of energy group and regroup themselves in separate magnetic systems; a metaphor ready to hand for the man who can speak of these things with assurance; not for me, who can only say that England abounded in these small companies of intimate friends, so that, as in this case of Julia and myself, we could live in the same street in London, see at times, a few miles distant, the rural horizon, could have a liking one for the other, a mild curiosity about the other's fortunes, a regret, even, that we should be separated, and the knowledge that either of us had only to pick up the telephone and speak by the other's pillow, enjoy the intimacies of the levee, coming in, as it were, with the morning orange juice and the sun, yet be restrained from doing so by the centripetal force of our own worlds, and the cold, interstellar space between them.