Sm Love Quotes

Remember that grief is a necessary pain. It’s your only way to heal. To starve it will destroy you.”~The Grimoire

I think we’re all just searching for someone to accept us the way we are, love us the way we are.

Winter’s head snapped around, away from Scarlet. Scarlet’s pace slowed, dread pulsing through her as she, too, heard the footsteps. Pounding footsteps, like someone was running at full speed toward them. She reached for the knife Jacin had given her. A man barrelled around the corner, heading straight for the princess. Winter tensed half a second before he reached her. Grabbing Winter’s elbow, he yanked back the red hood. Scarlet gasped. Her knees weakened. The man stared at Winter with a mixture of confusion and disappointment and maybe even anger, all locked up in eyes so vividly green that Scarlet could see them glowing from here. She was the one hallucinating now. She took a stumbling, uncertain step forward. Wanting to run toward him, but terrified it was a trick. Her hand tightened around the knife handle as Wolf, ignoring how Winter was trying to pull away, grabbed her arm and smelled the filthy red sleeve of Scarlet’s hoodie, streaked with dirt and blood. He growled, ready to tear the princess apart. “Where did you get this?” So desperate, so determined, so him. The knife slipped out of Scarlet’s hand. Wolf’s attention snapped to her. “Wolf?” she whispered. His eyes brightened, wild and hopeful. Releasing Winter, he strode forward. His tumultuous eyes scooped over her. Devoured her. When he was in arm’s reach, Scarlet almost collapsed into him, but at the last moment she had the presence of mind to step back. She planted a hand on his chest. Wolf froze, hurt flickering across his face. “I’m sorry,” said Scarlet, her voice teetering with exhaustion. “It’s just…I smell so awful, I can hardly stand to be around myself right now, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you with your sense of sm-“ Batting her hand away, Wolf dug his fingers into Scarlet’s hair and crushed his mouth against hers. Her protests died with a muffled gasp. This time, she did collapse, her legs unable to hold her a second longer. Wolf fell with her, dropping his knees to break Scarlet’s fall and cradling her body against his. He was here. He was here.

Gold is cold, and men who possess much of it are infected with its chill.

Grief is the tribute we pay the dead," she said, matter-of-fact sympathy in her voice. "But they don't ask more than we can afford to give. They've never really gone from us, you know, those we love; they're part of our story, and we of theirs.

Have I told you today how beautiful you are?" I stand there, taken by surprise at his words. I am speechless so I mutely shake my head. He places his hands at my jaw line while he slowly runs his thumbs over my cheekbones. Then he looks into my eyes and says, "You are the most beautiful thing I keep in my heart. ~Ian

All he knew for certain was that he had fallen in love with her twice now.

Looking her in her now tear-filled eyes, I cupped her face in my hands. "We may not be together, but we will never be through. ~ Beckett

You know the saying, ‘love thy neighbor’? Well, I’m really starting to fucking hate thy neighbor.

Cas’s reply was quick: “Love is not weakness.” “I think you’re mistaken, little mortal.” “And I think you’re kind of a bitch, middle goddess.

Like its elder sibling love, friendship was a set of obligations willingly assumed, truth and trust among them, not just a pleasure or a feeling. At least it was if you were to be a friend worth having.

Yes, she loved the Lord and Lady in Their many forms . . . but those forms spanned the universe of space and time that sprang from Them, and They could be as terrible as the fiery death of suns, as inexorable as Time. A mother's kiss on her child's face came from Them, but so also the glaciers that grind continents to dust.

But God, most importantly, I pray that through our union, you will pour your love into someone that needs it. That you will shine your light through us so that our marriage will bring nothing but honor and glory to your name.

Grief is the tribute we pay the dead,” she said, matter-of-fact sympathy in her voice. “But they don’t ask more than we can afford to give. They’ve never really gone from us, you know, those we love; they’re part of our story, and we of theirs.

BDSM isn’t about bondage, domination, or sadomasochism. You don’t have to be bound or dominated or tortured or enjoying to be tortured. It’s about a loved one who takes the world off your shoulders for a few blessed hours through the use of bondage, domination and sadomasochism.

He pouted—full on pouted. A prince. Pouting. - Kara, re: Braeden

Transform your future by healing your past.

His was a burning love, a fire that set my soul alight and weakened me with desire for him, for his arms, for his heart.

But that is just the thing about chasing love—you can’t. Love comes to you when it’s ready. Love comes at the most inopportune times. And if you are lucky, love won’t find you at all.

In a disembodied floating space, S/m offers little pockets of theatricality and connection. So long as they are playing, two people are totally accountable and listening to each other. S/m radically preempts romantic love because it is a practice of it.

Where are we? -Braeden In the deepest part of your mind, where Carden can never find you. It's the goodness you've developed despite everything, the kindness and love you're capable of even though you were born to kill. Hide here with me, and he'll never find us. -Kara

I wanted to feel like there was a reason I felt so attached to the moon. Maybe there was; maybe there wasn’t. But that’s what I loved about the moon. The ability it has to change lives. Change the earth. It’s stronger and much more resilient than people give it credit for.

Because you’re gorgeous.” She pauses mid-chew, her skin flushing red with embarrassment. “Stop that. I look like a beluga whale.” My brows tug down into a frown. Leaning forward, I press my forearms against the table and lean into her space. “Stop saying that. Do you realize how gorgeous you are? How fucking sexy you look, carrying my child? Do you know how hot it is that when I look at you, I see you swollen with my seed? We made him, and fuck me, if I don’t enjoy looking at you.” Her lip quirks at the corner. “Didn’t know you were such a sweet talker.” I shrug, leaning back. “Neither did I.

As much as I enjoy her laughter, I don’t like the sound of her doubting herself. And that’s something else I’m going to have to think about later on because the more I get to know Tori, the more I start to understand how she thinks and what makes her tick, the more I start to realize. . . This woman could be dangerous.

I almost let him die. I did. I’m not proud of that now. It was a mistake. But when all you can think of is revenge, you don’t think straight. I haven’t for a long time. I’ve plotted and manipulated and stolen to get what I want, and it’s cost me everything. When I lost my mother, I lost a bit of myself to the hatred. It clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think straight anymore, and I lost both my father and brother because of it. I lost the love of my life. I lost the respect of my fellow Bloods. I lost control over you. By using deception to get my revenge, I lost everything, Kara. I lost everything that ever used to matter to me. - Blood Gavin

E infine lord Barron le sorrise come un predatore che abbia appena fiutato nella foresta la scia della preda. «Non vi preoccupate, mia cara, vi condurrò io.» Iniziarono a piroettare sulla pista, seguendo il ritmo del Wiener Bonbons di Strauss, mentre tutte le altre figure divenivano forme sfocate e indistinte. Lei non aveva mai ballato un valzer in vita sua, ma quella poteva dirsi l’ultima delle sue preoccupazioni. La vicinanza palpabile con quel torace le impediva di produrre pensieri razionali, soprattutto visto che la giacca skinny del completo di Barron gli aderiva come una seconda pelle, evidenziando ogni linea della massa compatta che si nascondeva sotto la stoffa. Bisognava riconoscere che in abiti formali tutti i Ragusia-Selvatia rendevano al meglio. Anzi. Nonostante fosse il fratello di Sua Signoria “PURA LUSSURIA”, il Gobbo non ne era affatto una pallida imitazione. Riusciva a intrigarla quasi di più, proprio perché era massiccio e sostanzioso. Un corpo così invitava le giovani avvocatesse affamate a banchettare. Dio ci manda la carne, e il diavolo i cuochi.

You’re hurt, and I can’t guarantee I can be gentle with you right now.” My core spasm at the naughty threat in his voice. “I can handle it.” My voice is husky, and by the tic in his jaw, I know he hears it. Creed leans forward into my personal space and my lids grow heavy with lust. My lips part on instinct like he’s going to kiss me, but instead, he reaches out, caressing my face with such a soft and gentle touch, it completely belies his next words. “I assure you, you can’t.” I drop my head back and groan, the stirrings of desire running rampant through my body and core. “That’s not very nice, Mr. Sabella.” He grins now, it’s devious, and hell if it doesn’t make me want to jump his bones. “And I’m not a very nice man.” Sliding my wet hand up his arm, over the protruding veins, tattoos, and old scars, I glance up at him through my lashes and smile. “To me you are.” “Always,” he whispers, pressing his lips against mine.

I want to end here with the most common and least understood sexual problem. So ordinary is this problem, so likely are you to suffer from it, that it usually goes unnoticed. It doesn't even have a name. The writer Robertson Davies dubs it acedia. “Acedia” used to be reckoned a sin, one of the seven deadly sins, in fact. Medieval theologians translated it as “sloth,” but it is not physical torpor that makes acedia so deadly. It is the torpor of the soul, the indifference that creeps up on us as we age and grow accustomed to those we love, that poisons so much of adult life. As we fight our way out of the problems of adolescence and early adulthood, we often notice that the defeats and setbacks that troubled us in our youth are no longer as agonizing. This comes as welcome relief, but it has a cost. Whatever buffers us from the turmoil and pain of loss also buffers us from feeling joy. It is easy to mistake the indifference that creeps over us with age and experience for the growth of wisdom. Indifference is not wisdom. It is acedia. The symptom of this condition that concerns me is the waning of sexual attraction that so commonly comes between lovers once they settle down with each other. The sad fact is that the passionate attraction that so consumed them when they first courted dies down as they get to know each other well. In time, it becomes an ember; often, an ash. Within a few years, the sexual passion goes out of most marriages, and many partners start to look elsewhere to rekindle this joyous side of life. This is easy to do with a new lover, but acedia will not be denied, and the whole cycle happens again. This is the stuff of much of modern divorce, and this is the sexual disorder you are most likely to experience call it a disorder because it meets the defining criterion of a disorder: like transsexuality or S-M or impotence, it grossly impairs sexual, affectionate relations between two people who used to have them. Researchers and therapists have not seen fit to mount an attack on acedia. You will find it in no one’s nosology, on no foundation's priority list of problems to solve, in no government mental health budget. It is consigned to the innards of women's magazines and to trashy “how to keep your man” paperbacks. Acedia is looked upon with acceptance and indifference by those who might actually discover how it works and how to cure it. It is acedia I wish to single out as the most painful, the most costly, the most mysterious, and the least understood of the sexual disorders. And therefore the most urgent.

We think that this thought does a nice job of expressing the tension that often happens in good S/M – the “oh-my-god-this-is-terrible-please-don’t-stop” energy that we all know and love.

How can anyone willingly go their whole life without loving someone? Even though you might want to, or you do—but your job won’t allow it. I can’t help but feel like it’s an impossible task. We’re all human beings, without love, we’re just soulless machines

He makes lists every morning, telling me what errands to run during the day. Go to the cleaners or the drugstore or the market. His list is always coded. Cl for cleaners. RX is medicine. SM is supermarket. And then he signs the lists. With his initials. As if otherwise, I won’t know who wrote it.” —Alissa, Fort Wayne, IN

I risked all our lives over something so foolish.

Gone are thoughts of Wendy and the what if’s—what could’ve been. The only person I’m ready to focus on is Sophia and her safety.

The Ghost was done playing games. Done keeping quiet. He really was becoming the King of Chicago. And what was even more terrifying? The fact that my sister would be there alongside him.

You only get one chance to live. Why waste it pretending to be something you’re not for the comfort of others? It’s easier to love the things that make you different, than to be miserable over the things you can’t change.

After all, don’t we all get that one intense teenage love that others struggle to live up to?

Be kind, be humble, be the love <3

discovered something important over the last week: lovely things were far less exciting when there was nobody to share them with.

Wildfire, do you not understand? I love who you are. Not what. Who you are, and who you were, and who you’re becoming. Your fire, your ashes, your everything in-between…

You have infiltrated me completely, you make me feel alive Harlow, and I love that feeling. I have had my heart walled off for so long, and you have melted it so I can feel again. ~Beckett

A tear rolls from Harlow's eye. "You've already won me. Your best quality is your heart Beck. It was your heart I fell in love with. ~Harlow

Mitch you are fighting it so hard and you know you are going to lose. It's like a willow root. It quietly makes its way, winding and twisting around you until it's too late and there is no way to stop it. Even if you cut it off, that root will continue to grow, shooting out more roots until it takes over. ~Beckett

This was the place where I fell in love with you Harlow, and even though I had a lot of bad memories here, I had the best memories here too. Memories of when we would sit on the swings and talk about the future when times were innocent, what do you want now Harlow? What are your dreams for the future? ~Beckett

″May you leave without returning and fall without rising, addressed to the lovely darlin′ man himself. The which is perhaps a little too close to a curse for comfort, but sometimes things need to be said.″

Beckett, love is something I can't do. I don't even know that I believe in it, it's like unicorns, you want to believe in them, but have you ever seen one? ~Mitchell

Fear never solved anything, sweet girl. It only makes everything worse. But love? Love can heal. Love is a seed, and life grows from it. But as always, in all things there must be balance. A heart that feels pain is a heart that has loved.

Dearest Josh, I can’t. It just hurts too bad. If you ever find my baby, please tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I loved her. Thank you for being my only friend. Thank you for caring about my sweet girl. I’m sorry. Love, Sherry “Damn.

1. The End of Summer The moon rose high in the sky. Rylie’s veins pulsed with its power. It pressed against her bones, strained against her muscles, and fought to erupt from her flesh. A wolf’s howl broke the silence of the night. It called to her, telling her to change. “No,” she whimpered, digging fingernails into her shins hard enough to draw blood. “No.” Rylie burned. The fire was going to consume her. The moon called her name, but it would be the end of her humanity if she obeyed it. She would never see her family again. She would never see her friends or graduate high school. Rylie might not die, but her life would be over. Yet if she didn’t change, the boy she loved would die at the jaws of the one who changed her. Rylie had to lose him or lose her entire life. But was love worth becoming a monster?

Love doesn't have to be like a thunderbolt; you can meet someone and fall in lov anytime. Sometimes it's just always been there... thing is... you never noticed...

For true love is only born of sacrifice,

Greed, one of the badliest capital sins, is not good, is not good for knolege, love, money. Greed "the capital sin" is necessary

The greatest, most loved & revered human beings in the world have first born the pain of hatred ~ but the most revered and powerful, corrupt & wicked leaders have only been followed for the promises of avaricious & evil gain ~sm

If it has a condition or a limit then it’s not love and thus is not free. 

He smiled sadly. “Love doesn’t wait forever.

zahia is the shay to my lauren. i love zahiar sm.

This trait seemed wholly worthy of an age whose love of utility is such that the Prince Puckler Muskau suggests the probability of men coming to put the bodies of their dead parents in the fields to fertilize them,

It doesn’t mean love and it doesn’t mean marriage and it doesn’t mean anything beyond the moment.

Rylie had to lose him or lose her entire life. But was love worth becoming a monster?

This is your chance to learn from my greatest mistake. Any love you let yourself have must still be guarded. Any trust must come as a result of complete control.

It’s easier to love the things that make you different, than to be miserable over the things you can’t change.

I frown. “Camilla, having a baby sister isn’t like having a doll. She’s not for dress up. Babies are lots of work.” “Well,” she starts, with a haughtiness in her tone. I honestly don’t know where she gets all this sass from. “My daddy always says I can have whatever I want, and I told him I want a baby sister already.” I laugh. “Oh, did you now? And what ever did your daddy say?” “My daddy said he was trying. That he wants you to have a school bus filled with babies for all of us. Can we have a school bus of little bruvers and sister’s, Mommy?” I shake my head, trying to hold in my laugh. Freaking Creed.

You know what my tito Jose told me, Mommy?” my little chatterbox asks again, unable to sit in silence for long. “He told me when I get older, if any boys try to talk to me, all da boys in my family were gonna dig the holes six feet under. I want to help them dig the holes too, Mommy.” I scowl. Looks like I’ll need to have a talk with Jose about what he says in front of Camilla. She’s a sponge this one. “Oh no. You don’t need to dig any holes. That’s for sure.” She shrugs. “You know what else my—” Jesus. My sweet girl could talk for days.

I think I fell in love with her because, as the goddess of the moon, she personified life’s constant changes. In the myths, as the Titan goddess, she would drive her chariot with the moon across the sky at night. She was considered this all-seeing eye of the night because the moon would always be visible in the black sky, and no one could run from it.

Are you ready to see what I see? A vessel to pain and beauty We grow cold We go bitter We love

I had to pretend the news of her marriage didn’t bother me. I pretended that Dean marrying the only woman I’ve ever loved didn’t matter. It fucking did.

thought myself superior to her because I was drug-free, but I’ve succumbed to the cruelest drug of all: love.

I do like it. The moon. My name…my name belonged to the moon goddess. Guess I’ve just always been a little obsessed.” “Ah. Yeah. That makes sense. What did this goddess do?” I want to tell him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say she drove the moon across the sky and fell in love with a handsome shepherd by the name of Endymion, but I don’t say that.

The moon is a wonder. Not only is it the largest and brightest object in the sky, but, just like the stars, it has always inspired awe in many people. From scientists, to the mythologists, to regular people like me, who look up and wonder what the significance is on nights like this. It’s always radiated an air of mystery and magic, love and, obviously, unattainable beauty. It’s been used to measure time. The waxing and waning have made it a symbol of change in cycles around the world. One cycle being the constant alternation of birth and death, creation and destruction. The moon belongs to things that transgress the boundaries of astronomy, astrology, and even religion. I feel a connection to the moon in the myths and legends. The moon gives me a friend when I feel like I have no one—when I am lonely. On nights when things seem bleak, as if nothing in life will ever go according to plan, staring up at the moon brings me a sense of peace. Because when I stare up at the sky that’s lit up by the stars and silver light, I know I’m not the only one. I know I’m not the only one who feels invisible or lonely. For all intents and purposes, it feels like I am the moon, and Endymion is the sun. Our non-present love affair was condemned from the beginning.

He shrugs. “I like sitting here with you just fine.” My heart stumbles at his words. It’s not like he’s professing his undying love to me or anything, but hell, tell that to my battered heart that has waited years for this man to show me an ounce of his attention.

There's a lot of assholes in this world...don't ever let them quench the fire or steal your smiles

For that is the true, dual nature of love, isn’t it?” she said. “A terrible, wonderful force. Nothing can break things so completely. Nothing can heal things so fully. And

That’s the problem with loving deeply, she’d once said to him. It means you have to hurt deeply too.