Stefan And Elena Quotes

You're talking!" "I know I am." "And making sense!" "Thank you kindly." "And in sentences!" "I've noticed." - Stefan and Elena

It doesn't matter if you can't say it right now. I'll say it for both of us. And someday you'll learn.

I want him to love me as much as I love him.

Elena startled both of them by flying up so quickly that Stefan had to grab her by the waist to keep her from shooting toward the ceiling. I thought you had gravity!” So did I! What do I do?” Think heavy thoughts!” What if it doesn’t work?” We’ll buy you an anchor!

You always were selfish. Your one fault. Not willing to share anything, are you?" Suddenly, Damon's lips curved up in a singularly beautiful smile. But fortunately the lovely Elena is more generous. Didn't she tell you about our little liaisons? Why? The first time we met she almost gave herself to me on the spot." "That's a lie!" "Oh, no, dear brother, I never lie about anything important. Or do I mean unimportant? Anyway, your beauteous damsel nearly swooned into my arms. I think she likes men in black." As Stefan stared at him, trying to control his breathing, Damon added, almost gently, "You're wrong about her, you know, You think she's sweet and docile like Katherine. She isn't. She's not your type at all, my saintly brother. She has a spirit and a fire in her that you wouldn't know what to do with." "And you would, I suppose." Damon uncrossed his arms and slowly smiled again. "Oh, yes.

It's not wrong to hustle hustlers. It's like killing murderers, a public service. -Damon Salvatore

There’s nothing to read into. I’m here to collect my beloved Damon and Stefan is just helping me.” Bonnie looked at her with her brows knitted and her mouth pursed, but didn’t venture a word. “Bonnie?” “Um-hm?” “Did I just say what I thought I said?” “Um-hm.” Elena, with one motion, gathered an armful of pillows and deposited them on her face.

You know why I don’t leave,” he said again to Damon, who wouldn’t look at him. “You can pretend you don’t care. You can fool the whole world. But I know differently.” It would have been kindest at this point to leave Damon alone, but Stefan wasn’t in a kind mood. “You know that girl you picked up, Rachael?” he added. “The hair was all right, but her eyes were the wrong color. Elena’s eyes were blue.

Something was shining on Damon's face. She reached toward it, touched it, and lifted her fingers away in wonder. "Don't be sad," she told him, feeling the cool wetness on her fingertips. But a pang of worry disturbed her. Who was there to understand Damon now? Who would be there to push him, to try to see what was really inside him? "You have to take care of each other," she said, realizing it. A little strength came back to her, like a candle flaring in the wind. "Stefan, will you promise? Promise to take care of each other?

I would write, Dear Diary, Today I convinced myself it's ok to give up. Stick with the status quo, now just isn't the time. But my reasons aren't reasons, they're excuses and the truth is, I'm scared Stefan. I'm scared that if I let myself be happy for one minute, that the my world's going to come crashing down and I don't know if I'll be able to survive that.

But then she remembered something else, just a flash: looking up at Damon’s face in the woods and feeling such—such excitement, such affinity with him. As if he understood the flame that burned inside her as nobody else ever could. As if together they could do anything they liked, conquer the world or destroy it; as if they were better than anyone else who had ever lived. I was out of my mind, irrational, she told herself, but that little flash of memory wouldn’t go away. And then she remembered something else: how Damon had acted later that night, how he’d kept her safe, even been gentle with her. Stefan was looking at her, and his expression had changed from belligerence to bitter anger and fear. Part of her wanted to reassure him completely, to throw her arms around him and tell him that she was his and always would be and that nothing else mattered. Not the town, not Damon, not anything. But she wasn’t doing it.

She heard Stefan’s voice. “Elena! Let go! Fall and I’ll catch you!” How strange, Elena thought, as if in a dream. His love and panic had distorted his voice somehow - making him sound different. Making him sound almost like- “Elena! I’m with you!” -like Damon. Shaken out of her dream, Elena looked below her. And there was Damon, standing protectively in front of Meredith, looking up at her, with his arms held out. He was with her.

Damon spoke without moving. “I’m not like you.” “You’re not as different from us as you want to think,” Matt said. “Look,” he added, an odd note of challenge in his voice, “I know you killed Mr. Tanner in self-defense, because you told me. And I know you didn’t come here to Fell’s Church because Bonnie’s spell dragged you here, because I sorted the hair and I didn’t make any mistakes. You’re more like us than you admit, Damon. The only thing I don’t know is why you didn’t go into Vickie’s house to help her.” Damon snapped, almost automatically, “Because I wasn’t invited!” Memory swept over Bonnie. Herself standing outside Vickie’s house, Damon standing beside her. Stefan’s voice: Vickie, invite me in. But no one had invited Damon. “But how did Klaus get in, then—?” she began, following her own thoughts. “That was Tyler’s job, I’m sure,” Damon said tersely. “What Tyler did for Klaus in return for learning how to reclaim his heritage. And he must have invited Klaus in before we ever started guarding the house—probably before Stefan and I came to Fell’s Church. Klaus was well prepared. That night he was in the house and the girl was dead before I knew what was happening.” “Why didn’t you call for Stefan?” Matt said. There was no accusation in his voice. It was a simple question. “Because there was nothing he could have done! I knew what you were dealing with as soon as I saw it. An Old One. Stefan would only have gotten himself killed—and the girl was past caring, anyway.” Bonnie heard the thread of coldness in his voice, and when Damon turned back to Stefan and Elena, his face had hardened. It was as if some decision had been made. “You see, I’m not like you,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.” Stefan had still not withdrawn his hand. Neither had Elena.

The hell with your secrets,” shouted Bonnie. “Language, language! How about this: One of you has kept a secret all their life, and is doing so even now. One of you is a murderer—and I am not speaking of a vampire, or a mercy killing, or anything like that. And then there is the question of the true identity of Sage—good luck on your research there!One of you has already had their memory erased—and I don’t mean Damon or Stefan. And what about the secret, stolen kiss? And then there is the question of what happened the night of the motel, that it seems that nobody but Elena can recall. You might ask her sometime about her theories about Camelot.

Wait.” Stefan’s voice was hard suddenly. Bonnie and Elena turned back and froze, embracing each other, trembling. “What is your—your father—going to do to you when he finds out that you allowed this?” "He will not kill me,” Sage said brusquely, the wild tone back in his voice. “He may even find it as amusant as I do, and we will be sharing a belly laugh tomorrow.

So," dark Susurre said quietly, "if you follow the curve... in a way your Damon did die to save Fell's Church from another massacre like the one on that Japanease island. He kept saying that was what he'd come to the Nether World to do. Do you not think he would be satisfied? At peace?" "At PEACE?!" Stefan spat bitterly, and Sage growled. "Woman," you obviously have never met Damon Salvatore before." The tone in his voice--more resonant, more threatening somehow--made Elena finally break off her staredown with the red-haired Idola. She turned and looked-- --and saw the enormous room filled with Sage's outspread wings.

I could quit the committee. But that would leave Bonnie and Meredith holding the bag. And I keep remembering what Matt said when I asked him to get Stefan to come to the dance: "You want everybody and everything revolving around Elena Gilbert." That isn't true. Or at least, if it has been in the past, I'm not going to let it be true anymore. I want--oh, this is going to sound completely stupid, but I want to be worthy of Stefan. I know he wouldn't let the guys on the team down just to suit his own convenience. I want him to be proud of me. I want him to love me as much as I love him.

Quería a Stefan. Y a Damon su orgullo jamás le permitiría pedirle a Elena lo que sólo él deseaba, e igualmente tampoco le permitiría tomarlo sin que ella consintiera... O eso esperaba.

Damon opened his mouth to snarl, “And now you’re going to judge how much I love Elena?”  when suddenly he stopped, frozen.   He saw quite clearly the picture that Stefan was projecting of wide brown eyes in a heart-shaped face and tumbled strawberry curls, and he felt all the defensive fury of being trapped in the wrong.

Suddenly Elena wished that Stefan wasn’t the type of boyfriend to give her space.  She wished that he was here with her.  Come to think of it, if they were all grieving for the same person, why shouldn’t he be with her?  Why had he run away instead of staying to support her?

She'd have him, even if it killed her. If it killed both of them, she'd have him

¡Ese vocabulario, queridos! Qué os parece esto: uno de vosotros ha guardado un secreto toda su vida, y lo sigue haciendo en estos momentos. Uno de vosotros es un asesino; y no estoy hablando de un vampiro, ni de eutanasia ni nada por el estilo. Y luego está la cuestión de la verdadera identidad de Sage... ¡Buena suerte con vuestra investigación ahí! A uno de vosotros ya le han borrado la memoria... y no me refiero a Damon o a Stefan. ¿Y qué hay del misterioso beso robado? Y luego está la cuestión de lo sucedido en la noche del motel, que parece que nadie excepto Elena puede recordar. Podríais preguntarle algo sobre sus teorías respecto a Camelot.

Elena was strangely calm now, her mind a humming blank. She said no, of course she didn’t mind, and watched Caroline move away, a symphony in auburn and gold. Stefan went with her. There was a circle of faces around Elena; she turned from them and came up against Matt. “You knew he was coming with her.” “I knew she wanted him to. She’s been following him around at lunchtime and after school, and kind of forcing herself on him. But …” “I see.” Still held in that queer, artificial calm, she scanned the crowd and saw Bonnie coming towards her, and Meredith leaving her table. They’d seen, then. Probably everyone had. Without a word to Matt, she moved towards them, heading instinctively for the girls’ rest room. It was packed with bodies, and Meredith and Bonnie kept their remarks bright and casual while looking at her with concern. “Did you see that dress?” said Bonnie, squeezing Elena’s fingers secretly. “The front must be held on with superglue. And what’s she going to wear to the next dance? Cellophane?” “Cling film,” said Meredith. She added in a low voice, “Are you OK?” “Yes.” Elena could see in the mirror that her eyes were too bright and that there was one spot of colour burning on each cheek. She smoothed her hair and turned away.

elena could live without stefan- she thought. but just as being away from meredith and bonnie was like living without her two hands, living without stefan would be like trying to live without her heart. he was her partner in the great dance; her equal and her opposite; her beloved and her lover in the purest sense imaginable. he was the other half of the sacred mysteries of life to her