Sugar Daddy Quotes

Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible.

Sometimes a woman needs a man for company, no matter how useless he is.

Many times in life I've regretted the things I've said without thinking. But I've never regretted the things I said nearly as much as the words I left unspoken.

Opening up to the wrong person is like putting ammo in their hands.

Most men don't seem to get that telling a pissed-off woman to calm down is like throwing gunpowder on a fire.” ~ Liberty Jones

If loneliness was a choice, what was the other option? To settle for second-best and try to be happy with that? And was that fair to the person you settled for?

I'd do almost anything for you. I think I'd kill for you. But I'm not going to comfort you while you cry in my arms over another man. - Gage Travis

You have to rely on whatever sparks you have inside.

... I discovered life sometimes has a way of giving you what you need, but not in the form you expect.

I'd sell my soul to have you. In my whole life, you'll always be what I wanted most." ~ Hardy Cates

Shock is a merciful condition. It allows you to get through disaster with a necessary distance between you and your feelings.

Dating is like trying to make a meal out of leftovers. Some leftovers actually get better when they've had a little time to mature. But others should be thrown out right away, No matter how you try to warm them up, they're never as good as when they were new.

A couple of times in your life, it happens like that. You meet a stranger, and all you know is that you need to know everything about him.

The span of three or four minutes is pretty insignificant in the scheme of things. People lose hundreds of minutes everyday, squandering them on trivial things. But sometimes in those fragments of time, something can happen you'll remember the rest of your life.

Some people there's no getting over.

I realized I wasn't going to find a man until I was willing to expose myself to possible harm, to assume the risks of rejection and betrayal and heartbreak that came along with caring about someone. Someday, I promised myself, I would be ready for that kind of risk.

Darlin'...I know what you look like when you've been kissed.

What are you thinking?" he asks. I know Gage hates it when I cry - he is completely undone by the sight of tears - so I blink hard against the sting. "I'm thinking how thankful I am for everything," I say, "even the bad stuff. Every sleepless night, every second of being lonely, every time the car broke down, every wad of gum on my shoe, every late bill and losing lottery ticket and bruise and broken dish and piece of burnt toast." His voice is soft. "Why, darlin'?" "Because it all led me here to you.

I've always thought it was about finding the right person. But it's about choosing the right person, isn't it?

A sixty - eight, he wants you to go down on him but he won't return the favor. It would be sixty-nine but he owes you one.

And I wonder how Gage knew this is what my soul has craved. He turns me to face him, his eyes searching. It occurs to me that no one in my life has ever concerned himself so thoroughly with my happiness.

Alone-sex didn't count. It's like the difference between thinking to yourself or having a good conversation with someone----the pleasure is in the exchange." -Liberty Jones

When you're walking through the darkness, you can't depend on anything or anyone else to light your way. You have to rely on whatever sparks you've got inside you. Or you're going to get lost.

I want you to admit just once what you feel for me. I want to know if you'll miss me even a little. If you'll remember me. If you're sorry for anything.

Poor people have few choices in life, and most of the time you don't think too much about it. You get the best you can and do without when necessary, and hope to God you won't be wiped out by something you can't control. But there are moments it hurts, where there is something you want in the very marrow of your bones and you know there is no way you can have it.

Gravity is matter’s sugar daddy.

Be happy, honey. No one deserves it more. But don't forget... I'm keeping one little piece of your heart for myself. And if you ever want it back.. .you know where to find it.

Some folks are happier not being saved.

Asking an eight-year-old girl if something is a little over-the-top is like asking a Texan if there are too many jalapenos in the salsa. The answer is always no." -Liberty Jones

Why is life so difficult for some people and not for others? Why do some people have to struggle so much?

I shut my eyes and pray: “Please, God. Please send me a sugar daddy. I promise I’ll be so good. I’ll never do anything bad again.

I'm scared of making the biggest mistake of my life. I'm just trying to figure out what the mistake is.

His kisses tapped into deep mines of memory, and the years that had separated us fell away as if they were nothing.

Why was love so easy for some people and so hard for others?

I thought about the future, the oceans and continents he would cross, far away from everyone who knew and loved him. Far outside the sphere of his mothers prayers. Among the women of the future, there was one who would know his secrets and bear his children, and witness the changes the years worked on him. And it wouldnt be me. -Liberty Jones

You can't love someone new without getting over the last one.

Our gazes met. It seemed an entire conversation took place in that one glance. Each of us saw what we needed to know.

I guess I thought the strength of my wanting would be enough to make him appear.

I didn't expect it was going to be easy. But hard work is a lot easier to tolerate when it's something you want to do instead of something you have no choice about.

Don’t get all sugar daddy on me.” “Why not? You enjoy it.

Some questions change everything.

How old are you? Twelve?" "Fourteen & three quarters." His eyes sparkled. "You're kind of little for fourteen and three quarters." "Am not," I replied indignantly. "I'm a sophomore this year. How old are you?" "Seventeen and two fifths." Hardy Cateses & Liberty Jones.

Criminals did not have friends. They had associates, suppliers, fences, whores, sugar daddies, enablers, dealers, collaborators, co-conspirators, victims and bosses, any of whom they might rat out and none of whom could be trusted.

When you love a child, you forgive her before she can even ask. Basically you've already forgiven her for things she hasn't even done yet.

The sight of a sullen teenager is common no matter where you go. Teenagers want things so powerfully and can never seen to get them, and to add insult to injury, people make light of your feelings because you are a teenager. They say time will mend a broken heart and they're often right. But not where my feelings for Hardy were concerned.

I loved him so much, loved his fearlessness, his strength, even the ambition that would someday take him away from me.

Somehow I knew that no matter what I chose to tell or to keep secret, he would understand.

I wondered how many times in my life I had done something just because I wanted to without weighing the consequences.

Where do you wanna belong?" I half whispered. His expression changed with quicksilver speed, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Anywhere they don't want me." -Hardy Cateses & Liberty Jones

I knew I would replay the scene countless times in the years before me, each time thinking of different things I should have said and done. But all I did was walk away without looking back.

She was a beautiful woman, if not a happy one, and attracting a man was never a problem. Keeping one, however, was a different matter.

You're so full of it, darlin'.

I have always hated flying. The idea of it is an affront to nature. People are meant to stay on the ground.

I had to let go of him. But I knew that as long as I lived, I would feel the phantompain of his absence.

So if you were dating the UPS guy, he could buy you whatever the hell he wanted. But I cant."well...yes, but I'd never date the UPS guy. Those brown shorts are just not a turn-on for me.

Sugar Lips, you have a guest in the fourth dimension. I repeat, you have a guest in the fourth dimension. This is Tijuana Daddy, over and out. ~Julian

The feeling of relinquishing responsibility to someone else, letting him take control, was a relief beyond words.

I closed my eyes, thinking, Let me love you, Hardy, just let me.

Girlfriend, if you're waiting for a fairy godmother to show up with a dress and a ride, you're not going to make it to the party.

I didn't know how to stop wanting him. It wasn't that I had any hope—I knew I'd never see him again. But that didn't stop me from comparing every other man to Hardy and finding them all lacking. I had exhausted myself loving him.

But we have to find ways of compromising when we disagree on something. You know what compromise is, right?" "Uh-huh. It's when you don't get to have everything your way and I don't get to have everything my way, and no one's happy.

Aaron’s mouth dropped open when he entered the “room;” it was more like a huge open loft … no walls, huge floor to ceiling windows, shiny hardwood floors … perfect for a studio. He had no idea how Jake had acquired such a huge space in Manhattan. As if reading his mind, Alyson leaned over and whispered, “He bought the place next door and tore down the walls.” “Perfect,” replied Aaron, “and did he happen to find a treasure chest hidden in one of the walls as well?” “What do you mean?” “I mean, how the holy hell does he afford this place? He looks like he’s twelve.” “He’s twenty-​two, and he happens to be quite successful.” “At twenty-​fucking-​two?” “He was born with talent?” Alyson said questioningly. “He’s a lucky wanker who blew the right people?” suggested Aaron. Alyson tried to scowl but grinned instead, “A child prodigy?” “A deal with the devil?” “Naturally gifted?” “An indulgent sugar daddy?” “How about ‘c) All of the above’?” asked a third voice from behind the partition at the far corner of the studio.

Hardy was every loose-limbed cowboy in warn denim, every pair of blue eyes, every battered pickup, every hot cloudless day." -Liberty

There is no peace in poverty

He stared at me with bitter understanding. We both knew there was no room in this for friendship. Nothing left but childhood history.

If I never have anything from him except this one moment I am going to take it. Take it now, or drown in regret later.

Love is love, David. Commitment is commitment. Integrity and consideration and communication, honesty and genuine care, compassion, support… those are the things that make a worthwhile relationship, whether that’s two people, or three people, or ten people.

I never get sick. Besides, I have this compulsion to take care of ailing Travises." "You would be the only one. We Travises are bad-tempered as hell when we're sick." "You're not all that nice when you're well either.

And you're not the kind of girl I want." Surely he couldn't mean the fact that I was Mexican. From what I knew of Hardy, there wasn't a bit of prejudice in him. He never used racist words, never looked down on someone for things they couldn't help. "What kind do you want?" I asked with difficulty. "Someone I can leave without looking back.

But I think if it's the right person, you wouldn't have to work so hard at intimacy. I think—hope—it would just happen naturally. Otherwise, opening up to the wrong person..." I made a face. "Like putting ammo in their hands.

I don’t think our sugar daddy contract included kinky blindfolds.” A palm came to my butt and he squeezed, mouth near my ear. “Say kinky again, and I’ll fuck you against this wall.” He warned, kissing the side of my neck and for a second … a crazy fucking second, I was going to tell him yes please.

I had never felt the allure of another human being this strongly, warmth and curiosity mixing to form an unspoken question in the air.

Pity goes hand in hand with contempt. Don't ever forget that, Liberty. You can't take handouts or help from anyone, because that gives people the right to look down on you.

As with so many other aspects of our lives, we were never prepared for trouble. We just tried like hell to get out of the way when it came.

Miss Marva's driving technique was at best creative, and at worst she was an accident waiting to happen.

Bitterly I wondered if Hardy was going to overshadow every relationship for the rest of my life, haunting me like a ghost. I didn't know how to let him go. I'd never even had him.

I have the feeling, Liberty, that you're hoping for someone to give you permission to do what you want to do.

It would only lead to disappointment, even heartbreak, and her heart was too precious for me to let that happen.

They had studied law, information technology and art history as part of their beauty treatment, they had let Norwegian taxpayers finance years at university just so that they could end up as overqualified, stay-at-home playthings and sit here exchanging confidences about how to keep their sugar daddies suitably happy, suitably jealous and suitably on their toes.

It's just...Hardy was always the one I was supposed to end up with. He was everything I dreamed of and wanted. But damn it, why did he have to show up when I thought I'd finally gotten over him?

Damn it, he’s not my boyfriend!” “Boyfriend. Fiancé. Sugar daddy. Whatever.” “He’s none of those things.” Trace jerked back around. “Please enlighten me then. What the hell is he?” “My past.” “And what am I?” I swallowed and stared intently at him with a nakedness I couldn’t hide. “You’re…my everything.” Trace and Shannon from "Within Temptation

He’d fit. They’d fit. Surely. Definitely. Hopefully. I mean, you can push a whole fucking baby out of that hole, right? Right? But

As it turned out, Welcome was where I lost everything, and gained everything. Welcome was the place where my life was guided from one track to another, ending me to places I'd never thought of going.

The freedom of saying anything to him, telling all, relieved a burden I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying. In my relentless push to keep moving forward, there had been so many emotions I hadn't let myself inhabit fully, so many things I hadn't talked about. Now I couldn't quite catch up to myself.

When the pace of our feet matched perfectly, I felt a deep inner pang of satisfaction. I could have gone on walking like that forever, side by side with him. There had been few times in my life I had ever inhabited a moment so fully, with no loneliness lurking at the edges.

I think you could probably thaw out a glacier, honey." -Hardy Cates

I looked down at the brochure nearest me."We're going to Nigeria," I threatened. "I hope you like elephant polo." -Liberty Jones

It seemed to be a matter of general agreement that Hardy Cates was born for trouble, and sooner or later he would find it.

The next day I woke up in a sullen simmer, as if sleep had catalyzed my depression into a general state of pissed-offedness.

He never knew what hit him, and that would have comforted me, except . . . just for one second, he would have had to know, wouldn't he? There must have been a blur, a sense of the world exploding, a flashpoint of receiving more damage than a human body could endure.

What are their names? Psycho and Killer?" He shook his head. "Cupcake and Twinkie." My mouth dropped open. "You're kidding." A grin flitted across his lips. "Afraid not." If naming them after dessert snacks had been Miss Marva's attempt to make them seem cute, it wasn't working.

The house is big and sturdy and charming. I know without being told that children have been born here and couples have married here, and families have argued and loved and laughed beneath the gabled roof. It's a place to feel safe in. A home.

My feet ached in my Cinderella shoes. I shifted my weight and wiggled my toes beneath the cutting Lucite straps. My Prince Charming had finally showed up, I thought wretchedly, and he was too damn late.

To: Anna Oliphant From: Etienne St. Clair Subject: HAPPY CHRISTMAS Have you gotten used to the time difference? Bloody hell,I can't sleep. I'd call,but I don't know if you're awake or doing the family thing or what. The bay fog is so thick that I can't see out my window.But if I could, I am quite certain I'd discover that I'm the only person alive in San Francisco. To: Anna Oliphant From: Etienne St. Clair Subject: I forgot to tell you. Yesterday I saw a guy wearing an Atlanta Film Festival shirt at the hospital.I asked if he knew you,but he didn't.I also met an enormous,hair man in a cheeky Mrs. Claus getup. he was handing out gifts to the cancer patients.Mum took the attached picture. Do I always look so startled? To: Anna Oliphant From: Etienne St. Clair Subject: Are you awake yet? Wake up.Wake up wake up wake up. To: Etienne St. Clair From: Anna Oliphant Subject: re: Are you awake yet? I'm awake! Seany started jumping on my bed,like,three hours ago. We've been opening presents and eating sugar cookies for breakfast. Dad gave me a gold ring shaped like a heart. "For Daddy's sweetheart," he said. As if I'm the type of girl who'd wear a heart-shaped ring. FROM HER FATHER. He gave Seany tons of Star Wars stuff and a rock polishing kit,and I'd much rather have those.I can't beleive Mom invited him here for Christmas. She says it's because their divorce is amicable (um,no) and Seany and I need a father figure in our lives,but all they ever do is fight.This morning it was about my hair.Dad wants me to dye it back, because he thinks I look like a "common prostitute," and Mom wants to re-bleach it.Like either of them has a say. Oops,gotta run.My grandparents just arrived,and Granddad is bellowing for his bonnie lass.That would be me. P.S. Love the picture.Mrs. Claus is totally checking out your butt. And it's Merry Christmas, weirdo. To: Anna Oliphant From: Etienne St. Clair Subject: HAHAHA@ Was it a PROMISE RING? Did your father give you a PROMISE RING? To: Etienne St. Clair From: Anna Oliphant Subject: Re: HAHAHA! I am so not responding to that.

It didn't help matters that I was shy and wore glasses. I was never one to stand out in the crowd. I liked to stay in corners. And I was happiest when I was alone reading. That and the good grades I got in school had doomed any chance of being popular with my peers. So it was a foregone conclusion that boys like Hardy were never going to take notice of me.

May be, Churchill had pointed out, I should stop trying so hard not to love Hardy, and accept the some part of me might always want him. "Some things," he said, "you just have to learn to live with." "But you can't love someone new without getting over the last one." "Why not?" "Because then the new relationship is compromised." Seeming amused, Churchill said that every relationship was compromised in one way or the other, and you were better off not picking at the edges of it. I disagreed. I felt I needed to let Hardy go completely. I just didn't know how. I hoped someday I might meet someone so compelling that I could take the risk of loving again. But I had serious doubts such a man existed.

As we talked, I had the sense of uncovering something precious and long-buried, fully formed. Our conversation was a process of removing layers, some of them easily dusted away. Other layers, requiring chisels or axes, were left alone for now. We revealed as much as we dared about what had happened during the years that separated us. But it wasn't what I had expected, being with Hardy again. There was something in me that remained stubbornly locked away, as if I were afraid to let out the emotion I had harbored for so long.

Being afraid's not always bad." he said gently. "It can keep you moving forward. It can help you get things done." The silence between us was different than any silence I'd known before, full and warm and waiting. "What are you afraid of?" I dared to ask. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if it were something he'd never been asked before. For a moment I thought he wouldn't answer. But he let out a slow breath, and his gaze left mine to sweep across the trailer park. "Staying here." he finally said. "Staying until I'm not fit to belong anywhere else." "Where do you want to belong?" I half whispered. His expression changed with quicksilver speed, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Anywhere they don't want me.

Don’t swear in front of my kids, Papaw,” Bill said hotly. “Daddy, hush,” Mama said. “I’ll swear anytime I goddamn want to, Billy Cantrell,” Papaw replied. “You Christians are so uptight. Every time you sit down, I hold my breath because I’m afraid you’ll suck the whole goddamn world up your asses.” “Daddy!” Mama cried. “It’s true, Martha. You should know. There’s a hole in the sofa where you’re always sitting. Probably got half the living room swirling around in your rectum. Billy’s probably got half of Tupelo up his ass. Next time something comes up missing, Shelly, just tell him to bend over and take a look in his ass because that’s probably where it is.

All my relationships are short and sweet. Well...short, anyway." "Mine too." I sat in a leather chair near the sofa. It was stylish but uncomfortable, shaped like a cube and encased in a polished chrome frame. "I guess that's bad, isn't it?" He shook his head. "It shouldn't take a long time to figure out if someone is right for you. If it does, you're either dense or blind." "Or maybe you're dating an armadillo." Gage shot me a perplexed glance. "Pardon?" "I mean someone who's hard to set to know. Shy and heavily armored." "And ugly?" "Armadillos aren't ugly," I protested, laughing. "They're bulletproof lizards." "I think you're an armadillo." "I'm not shy." "But you are heavily armored." Gage considered that. He conceded the point with a brief nod. "Having learned about projection in couples counseling, I'd venture to say you're an armadillo too." "What's projection?" "It means you accuse me of the same things you're guilty of" "Good Lord," I said, lifting the wineglass to my lips. "No wonder all your relationships are short.