Sheehan Quotes

His blue eyes glittered with amusement. “Naïve, darlin'," He murmured. "I stole you a long time ago. Round the time you f**kin' stole me.

There will always be a reason why you meet people. Either you need them to change your life or you’re the one that will change theirs. - Angel Flonis Harefa

GIRL, write YOUR book dammit. Who cares what people think? If writers in the past cared what other people thought we'd still be glossing over 'inappropriate' kissing scenes. Break the fucking rules. Push yourself to the edge. Show the world what YOU can do. This is YOUR book. YOUR blood and guts. AND, don't you EVER, EVER, write one single line for SOMEONE ELSE.

Hey," I said softly and cupped his cheek. "Yeah?" “What about your dream?” His face went dimples. “I’m lookin’ at it, darlin’.” Oh. Crap. My heart felt near bursting. I was absolutely done for. This man owned me, body and soul, and everything in between.

Can't fuckin' live without you. Want you on my bike and in my bed. Want my kids inside you. Want you by my side babe for as long as I got left

Everything has beauty. Even the ugly. Because without the ugly, there would be no beauty. Because without beauty, we would not survive our pain, our sorrow and our suffering.

She doesn’t belong to one of my boys, she’s fuckin’ mine.

It wasn’t easy. Nothing worth doing ever is. And love is worth everything.

If your old man caps me, you better be front and center at my fuckin’ funeral, cryin’ your goddamn eyes out.

He looked down at his flaccid cock. "Congratulations," he said. "You've just fucked yourself to death.

What’s wrong with you?” He sneered. “You’re not her, that’s what’s wrong with you. What’s she got that you don’t? Bitch, she’s got me and you never fuckin’ did.

Back of a bike is comin' for ya and soon too, cuz baby the way you’re lookin’ at me is tellin’ me you want it. And you want it bad." - Deuce to Eva (Undeniable)

Been tryin’ to let you go, been tryin' for fuckin' years,” He said roughly. “Haven’t figured out how yet.” - Deuce to Eva (Undeniable)

Whatever this shit is between us it’s always been there and it’s always gonna be there. I’m shit-fuckin’-tired tryin’ to ignore it. I’ll try to do right by you Eva, you’d be the first, but I’ll fuckin’ try my damndest. And baby, true freedom is the open road, the wind on your face and a good woman on the back of your bike holdin’ you tight like you’re her reason for breathin’ because she sure as fuck is yours.

Life may not always go the way you'd planned, you may not have the perfect family, you may not be the most beautiful, but that doesn't mean you can't make the best of what you do have.

If his girl was broken, someone sure as fuck was going to die for that.

Daddy!” Eva whirled around, glaring. “I’ve been fucking Deuce since I was eighteen! I wanted to fuck him when I was sixteen! Maybe I even wanted him when I was twelve too! Who knows! What I do know is I have been in love with him since I was five! So get over it! And don’t you dare shoot him or I’ll shoot you!

Shhh,” He growled into my mouth. “I got you, I fuckin’ got you. Just let it go baby girl, just fuckin’ let it go.

And babe, when I kissed you and you kissed me back, not knowing that the fuck you were doin’ but doin’ it anyway, not carin’, just feelin’, I fuckin’ lost myself in that kiss. Couldn’t remember ever losin’ myself in a kiss until then. That fuckin’ kiss, Eva, has gotten me through some pretty bad nights. That fuckin’ kiss reminds me that life ain’t all bad.

When it comes to you darlin’ I got no fuckin’ sense. You fuckin’ pull me in until you’re all I can fuckin’ see and suddenly I can’t fuckin’ breathe but I don’t care cuz, babe, you’re you, and I ain’t never met anyone as fuckin’ perfect as you.

I am free. I am haunted. But if nothing else, I am wide awake.

I haven't finished revisiting Sleeping Beauty. As a faerie tale, that one is rife with inherent difficulties. After all, the world doesn't stop just because one person is asleep.

I am Preachers little girl. And I'm gonna be just like him when I grow up. I'm gonna have a Fatboy but I want mine to be sparkly and I want a pink helmet with skulls on it. And instead of being the club President, I'm gonna be the club Queen cuz I'm gonna marry the biggest, scariest biker in the whole world and he's gonna let me do whatever I want because he's gonna love me like crazy.

I never stopped loving you,” he whispered. “Not even for a second. Even when I hated you.

From chaos, the strongest sort of love is usually born.

I didn't want the sun to rise. I didn't want the world to continue turning. I wanted the whole planet put into stasis until I could catch up.

You’re my reason, Deuce … You always have been.

Deuce," I whispered, "You love me"? His eyes went skyward, and he snorted. "Babe.Yeah. Long time now".

Jesus. Why couldn’t he have had boys? All boys. Little fucking shits like Cage. A whole slew of ‘em he could throw condoms at and be done with it.

The things this man made me feel just by speaking was unreal. At times I wanted to weep from the sheer sensation of never before experienced feelings that I knew had already wrecked me for any other man.

I damn well know a good thing when I see it and babe all I’ve ever been able to fuckin’ see is you. Not many chances a man has in his lifetime to do right, to earn the love of a good woman, and to get a taste of true freedom. And babe, for me, you’re all fuckin’ three. Have been for a good while now.

Where’s you’re fuckin’ bitch?” Cox looked right then left. “Shit,” he muttered. “I thought I heard something earlier. Figured she was fuckin’ Ripper again. Fuckin’ hell. I was gonna ask her to marry me.” “You’re already married shithead. This ain’t fuckin’ Utah.

Babe,” he whispered. “Can’t look at me like that and expect me to be keepin’ it reeled in.” “Baby, don’t ever keep it reeled in,” she whispered back. “Not with me.

I know I’m a fuckin’ bastard with a bad temper and I don’t fuckin’ deserve you but, shit Eva, if you woulda stayed put I woulda done better by you than you’ve had. You feel me?” I stared at him. And fell in love with him all over again.

Cox shrugged. "if that's what it takes to get laid, then I'm a fuckinin'poet. Other times I'm a fuckin' accountant. Or a plumber. Sometime's a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

When I'm ninety, I want you to tell me that it's my turn to ask you a question, and if that miracle happens, then my question is going to be, 'Do you still love me?' and I hope that answer will still be yes.

Mark Twain said, “The two most important days in your life is the day you were born and the day you find out why” I don't remember the day I was born but I remember the day I found out why. His name was Deuce. He was my “why”. And this is our story. It is not a pretty one.  Some parts of it are downright ugly. But it’s ours. And because I believe everything happens for a reason, I wouldn’t change a thing

Before you go, you need to know - I'd do anything for you. Even kis you goodbye and watch you go.

Danny," Ripper whispered in my ear. "Three songs gone by and there's some old fuckin' bitch makin' statutory rape faces at me.

Because baby, I'm wild pussy and wild pussy can't be bought. Wild pussy doesn't like having pretty things thrown at it and being expected to do the samba on someone's cock in return. Wild pussy doesn't do deals. Wild pussy lives free and for itself and takes it however it likes it; on a bed, on a couch, on the hood of a car, in a bathroom stall or up against a wall in an alleyway and it laughs the entire time. I've known you for a while now Chase. I know you've never had wild pussy and I know you never will. Wild pussy doesn't fuck uptight cock. And it sure as hell doesn't like silk boxers

There it is, darlin',"He said softly, his lips curling slowly in a sexy grin. "Nothin'like seein' a pretty girl gettin' all fired up.

Perspective is a bitch when it slaps you in the face, after the fact

Baby,” he said, “listen to me. I ain’t beautiful, you are. You’re so damn beautiful you got it spillin’ out all over the place, blindin’ you into thinkin’ I’m beautiful when I ain’t. Farthest thing from it.

You scared of your old lady, Ripper?”… “Fuck you,” he shot back. “I ain’t scared of shit except havin’ nowhere to put my dick when it gets cold and sad and wants a motherfuckin’ hug.

There are weak men; men who run and hide when life slaps them in the ass. Then there are men; men who have a backbone yet occasionally, when life slaps them in the ass, will rely on others. And then there are real men; men who don’t cry or complain, who don’t just have a backbone, they are the backbone. Men who make their own decisions and live with the consequences, who accept responsibility for their actions or words. Men who, when life slaps them in the ass, slap back and move on. Men who live hard and die even harder. Men like my father and my uncles. Men I loved with all my heart. Men like Deuce.

I love you, and I want you to be happy, I want you to have the life you deserve. And if that means … if that means I have to stand here and watch you walk away, then I’ll do it. I won’t be happy about it. It’ll break my heart. But … if that’s what you really need, then we’re done.

Motherfuck,” Deuce muttered, staring after him. “Ten bucks says he fucked that mouthy little asshole. Motherfuckin’ little fuck can’t keep it in his pants for shit. Cocksucker would fuck a hole in the wall. Probably has.

He knew Danny, she was a fucking chatterbox. She was always rambling on and on about music and clothes and some asshat named Chan-a-something Tater Tots.

For fuck’s sake, Tegen, stop overthinkin’ every damn thing. Just get on my goddamn dick and start fuckin’ bouncin’.” Well, how could I deny such sweet talk?

Aw, fuck,” Ripper muttered. Crossing his arms over his chest, the guy leaned back against the doorjamb. “Danny,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Shit just got real, baby.

FUCK THIS SHIT. Fuck the club and the code, and fuck brotherhood. He would give it all up for her. For his woman. Because she sure as shit was his, and he’d go to hell and back ten times over before he lost her forever.

Sometimes things aren't what they appear. We all have hurts that we don't show.

Because you make me better. You make me-you make me feel like I matter. Like my life matters. I feel like, with you, I can do anything in the world. That we can do anything in the world. And we will.

Love is a feeling, a real, raw, and unscripted emotion so sensationally pure, unable to dull even under the strain of a world against it, strong enough to heal the broken and warm even the coldest of hearts. Innate. Unavoidable. Undeniable. And sometimes, love is unconventional and it breaks all the rules and blurs all the lines and basks in its glory, shining as bright as the sun, unapologetically glowing even under the narrowed stares of society and its screaming, self-righteous morals, berating and judging that which it doesn’t understand.

I’d say you’re worth falling in love with twice.

Ripper was my rainstorm, my skin-drenching frenzy, where you couldn’t tell right from left, where all you could feel was the phenomenon exploding throughout your body, feverishly burning through you even as it pleasurably cooled.

Dad?" "Yeah?" "She the reason you’re pissed off all the time?" "Yeah." "She the reason you left mom?" "Yeah." "You love her?" "Yeah." There was a long pause. "Cool." "…yeah." "Dad?" "Jesus, Cage.  What?" "Does this mean I can have at Miranda?" Christ. "Yeah, you fuckin' hornball.  Have at it." "Cool.

It's very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants you to quit.

that feeling that I could touch the sky? That’s exactly how you make me feel.” (Ray)

Success means having the courage, the determination, and the will to become the person you believe you were meant to be.

All scares tell a story beautiful girl....mine tell the story of how I found you.

Sometimes … I think parents work so hard to keep us from making their mistakes, they won’t allow us to make our own.

Next time you call my kid a whore, I will end you, you fuckin’ feel me?

And sometimes, love is unconventional and it breaks all the rules and blurs all the lines and basks in its glory, shining as bright as the sun, unapologetically glowing even under the narrowed stares of society and its screaming, self-righteous morals, berating and judging that which it doesn't understand.

This wasn't love. It was hate. And love. That fine line had been destroyed. Mutilated.

I'm tryin' to figure out whether I'm gonna slap some sense into you or fuck the shit outta you.

Damn, Ripper,” Cox said, snorting. “You’re so pussywhipped you need your old lady defendin’ you?” “Cox, don’t speak,” Kamie said. “It makes you less hot.

Eva,” he rasped, cupping the back of her head and forcing her to look at him. “Marry me, darlin’.

You don't otta like someone to like fuckin' 'em. You can even hate their fuckin' guts and still like fuckin' 'em. Sometime's that's the best kinda fuckin'. Angry, crazy, fucked up, fuckin'...

Travellers understand, instinctively and by experience, that travel and adventure change and elongate time, even while navigating the deadlines of airline and train departures.

Who’s fuckin’ pussy-whipped now, asshat?” Cox laughed over his shoulder. “That would be you, bitch!” “You did not just call me a bitch!” Mick roared, chasing him. “Bitch! I fuckin’ did! Bitch!

You still smell like strawberries, and it’s breaking my heart.

Home's where the people you love are. It's about finding the things that matter to you, and holding on to them and taking care of them.

Nearly every female that crossed Cage’s path fell immediately into a big bucket of fucking stupid.

Now woman, you need to start doin’ what you came here to do or I’m gonna do it for you.

You respect women, you little fuckin' shit. It was a fuckin' woman who carried you around in her fuckin' body, fuckin' birthed you, and fuckin' loved you. And it's gonna be a woman who keeps you warm at night, who lets you inside her body, and it's gonna be a woman who carries around your fuckin' children. You fuckin' respect that, you feel me? You fuckin' respect women— all of ‘em— or I will end you.

Still wearin' Chucks and singin' out of tune I see.

I love you,” she cried softly. “No one else, baby, not like this, not the way I’ve always loved you.” “How much do you love me?” he asked hoarsely … “You already know,” she whimpered. “You’re everything to me, everything, you always have been, baby…

You’re a good kid, darlin’. A good, sweet kid. Promise me you’ll stay that way, yeah? No matter what you see, no matter what sort of fucked up shit happens to you. Don’t let this life turn you bitter. - Deuce to Eva (Undeniable)

Maybe this is how his miserable life was going to end: death by pussy. Which when he thought about it, it made sense. It was because of pussy that you came screaming into this world; might as well be pussy that took you out of it.

Babe, you’re the most beautiful woman in the whole goddamn world to me. You’re all I fuckin’ want, Teacup.

I love her," he rasped, his eyes on Danny. "You want me to beg, I'll fuckin' beg. I'll do whatever I gotta do if it means she keeps breathin'.

Coulda fuckin’ told me, little sister,” he said quietly. “Would never let you go through all this shit by yourself.” Grabbing my hand, he threaded his large fingers through mine and squeezed. “This is what big brothers are fuckin’ here for … To pick their little sisters up when they fall the fuck down.

I can imagine a life without you, but it seems impossible dreary, imperfect, unhappy.

I'm gettin' old babe. Got grown ass kids and gray fuckin' hair. Spent too much time married to a bitch I couldn't stand, too much time beatin' myself up for wishin' I was balls deep in a bitch eighteen years younger than me. Add that shit together and that equals me being fuckin' miserable for a long fuckin' time. So yeah, I can't do this anymore. Can't fuckin' live without you. Want you on my bike and in my bed. Want my kids inside you. Want you by my side babe for as long as I got left - Deuce West

Cause when it comes to you, darlin', I got no fuckin' sense. You fuckin' pull me in until you're all I can fuckin' see. Suddenly, I can't fuckin' breathe, but I don't care 'cause you, babe, you're you. And I ain't ever met anyone as fuckin' perfect as you.

If you send me on my way today," I whispered "If you tell me to get the hell out of your life and never come back...I'll accept it. But it will be the one and only permanent regret of my life: that we never made love.That we lost our future together.

Darlin’, we live in a fuckin’ cesspool of shit and dirty-ass motherfuckers, but if you found somethin’ good and true, somethin’ that you can bank on bein’ there for you when everything else is fallin’ apart around you, whoever it is, I’m good with it.

Why?” He asked brokenly. “Why would a woman like you want anything to do with a man like me?” “You may have done bad things,” she whispered tearfully. “But you’re not a bad man, Michael. You saved my life, and you saved my life because you have a good heart. Now I want to do the same for you.” Dirty’s heart exploded. He was done. Motherfucking done for.

You're better than you think," I whispered. "I didn't realize it when I was little, didn't understand that look in your eyes, why you always looked so sad, but I get it now. Someone got inside of you and messed you all up, made up down and left right so now you think you're shit when you're not even close. So you need to listen to me when I tell you that you are better than you think. You're even better than that. To me, you're the best." - Eva to Deuce (Undeniable)

Oh god, Anabeth,” Ellie muttered. “Your whole life is based around sex.” “So?” she shot back. “It’s better than having sex with fictional characters!” Ellie shot up out of my desk chair. “I do not have sex with fictional characters!” “Oh puh-lease, I’ve seen the books you read, all big muscley men and virginal women and steamy sex. Why else would you read that crap if not to get off?

Respeta a las mujeres, pequeña mierda. Fue una jodida mujer quien te llevo en su jodido cuerpo, quien parió y te amo. Y será una mujer quien te mantenga caliente por la noche, quien te permitirá entrar en su cuerpo, y será una mujer quien traiga al mundo tus putos hijos. Respeta a las putas mujeres a todas o te mataré.

Mark Twain dijo: “Los dos días más importantes de tu vida es el día en que naces y el día en que descubres por qué.” No recuerdo el día en que nací, pero recuerdo el día en que descubrí por qué. Su nombre era Deuce. Él era mi “por qué” Y esta es nuestra historia. No es una bonita. Algunas partes de ella son francamente feas. Pero es nuestra. Y porque creo que todo pasa por una razón, no cambiaría nada.

I’m layin’ fuckin’ claim to you, Tegen, every single fuckin’ part of you, right the fuck now.” “You can’t have any part of me!” I cried, trying to turn my head but his grip on my hair was too tight. Grunting, he yanked my head backward, forcing me to look up at him. “Wrong,” he growled. “I’ve always had you. Only difference is now, I’m takin’ you.

Alex, I don't want to date you. I don't want you to be my girlfriend. I don't want us to be together for just a little while. I want you forever. I want us to look at each other, and say we love each other, and decide to be together forever. Alex...I want to spend our lives together. If we ever decided we want to have kids, I want it to be me and you.

No, he didn’t care about anything else in the world except for his woman, the sweetest kid he’d ever met, the smartest too, a kid who’d turned into the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. A woman who didn’t just love with her whole heart but with her body and soul. A woman who time and time again, brought him to his fucking knees, had him prayer to a god he didn’t believe in just so he could keep her by his side. A woman whose motherfucking smile made the world and his life seem somewhat livable. Even worth it sometimes.

The difference between a self-induced orgasm and an orgasm given by a man is like comparing a rainy day and a rain storm. Rain was a sure thing, you knew exactly what you were going to get: a clean and crisp, both sweet and refreshing experience. But rainstorms were unpredictable, they were riddled with surprises, messy and wet; they were something you had no control over.

I was just telling Steve how much you appreciate motorcycles and it just so happens that he has one” Whoopee. Like I fucking cared. “Oh yeah?” I said, glancing at Steve. “What kind of ride?” The douche canoe grinned at me, revealing two perfectly straight and glaringly white rows of teeth. “A BMW,” he said. “R12—“ “A sports bike?” I interrupted, wrinkling up my nose. “How super gay for you.” … “Sports bikes are for pussies. True fucking story.

The difference between a self-induced orgasm and an orgasm given by a man is like comparing a rainy day and a rainstorm. Rain was a sure thing, you knew exactly what you were going to get: a clean and crisp, both sweet and refreshing experience. But rainstorms were unpredictable, they were riddled with surprises, messy and wet; they were something you had no control over. Rainstorms brought you to your knees, soaking you in uncontrollable need, lightning flashing before your eyes while you dug your fingers deep into the earth, trying to hold on; unable to tell which was louder...the thunder roaring in your ears or the pounding of your heart.

Hate Poem I hate you truly. Truly I do. Everything about me hates everything about you. The flick of my wrist hates you. The way I hold my pencil hates you. The sound made by my tiniest bones were they trapped in the jaws of a moray eel hates you. Each corpuscle singing in its capillary hates you. Look out! Fore! I hate you. The blue-green jewel of sock lint I’m digging from under by third toenail, left foot, hates you. The history of this keychain hates you. My sigh in the background as you explain relational databases hates you. The goldfish of my genius hates you. My aorta hates you. Also my ancestors. A closed window is both a closed window and an obvious symbol of how I hate you. My voice curt as a hairshirt: hate. My hesitation when you invite me for a drive: hate. My pleasant “good morning”: hate. You know how when I’m sleepy I nuzzle my head under your arm? Hate. The whites of my target-eyes articulate hate. My wit practices it. My breasts relaxing in their holster from morning to night hate you. Layers of hate, a parfait. Hours after our latest row, brandishing the sharp glee of hate, I dissect you cell by cell, so that I might hate each one individually and at leisure. My lungs, duplicitous twins, expand with the utter validity of my hate, which can never have enough of you, Breathlessly, like two idealists in a broken submarine.