Tl Martin Quotes

You understand what I’m telling you, Tommy? You have a light inside you, and the only person who gets to decide whether that light shines or not is you.

I felt it. I heard the snap of my heart tearing in half. It wasn’t a messy, dirty rip like I’d expected, but a smooth, clean line that knew just where to break to hurt me the most.

I desire very little, but the things I do consume me

His eyes close, and he draws a long breath. When they open again, they’re colder than ever. “And that’s where you’d be disappointed, Lou.There is no good to be found in Death.

I part my lips, but no words come out. I want to cry. Want to beg. Want to scream. But mostly, I want to hold him until I know he’s going to be okay. Then I want him to hold me until I’m okay, too.

Heartache is my constant companion, and we’re perfect for one another. Two co-dependent peas in a pod. My past and my future.

Two lines. Seven words. 'I’m so sorry. I’ll never give up.

Why would he call the cops if you’re just cleaning his house?” “Because I’m stalking him. I gotta go.

He doesn’t look at me like he’s owed anything. He looks at me like I’ve already given him everything.

He was unhinged. Shameless. Everything wrong and everything right. And he held the key to my cage in his palm.

Crawl inside this body, find me where I am most ruined— love me there

Sometimes I think people like you are the strongest of us all. The kind of person who can find beauty in anything. Who chooses to believe in love before hate. Who doesn’t just hope for happy endings, but has what it takes to create the happy ending. It’s so easy to be angry, to hate, to see the worst in a situation. But to actively choose to see the best? That’s where all the courage is.

His gaze, lowered toward the ground, slowly, leisurely drifts up, until it slams into mine with the heavy force of steel against steel. The green is back, emerald flames dancing behind clouds of black and grey. And with just that single look, his head slightly dipped, I know . . . Here, right now, I’m the one with all the power.

Now no one has to know.” “Know what?” “About the damage, of course. You show people what they want to see, and they’ll never suspect what’s underneath.

She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire

I need someone who sees the fire in my eyes and wants to play with it

The conversation between your fingers and someone else’s skin. This is the most important discussion you can ever have

Darkness watches me from every angle. My only friend. From its own place within the silence, it speaks to me in a strange way. It whispers secrets in my ear, telling me this is where I’m meant to be. It’s so certain, not a trace of doubt. And I think . . . I think it may be right.

You should be. I would tell you to run”— his strong hand clutches my throat, and I gasp as somersaults go off in my stomach—“ but I’d only catch you. And then I’d crush you.” “So crush me,” I breathe,

And maybe . . . maybe he’ll even get more comfortable having me around. Open up, wanna chat more, and we’ll become almost friends, or— “Hey,” he grumbles from behind me, “am I paying you to stand there and stare at the wall?” Yeah, too soon, Lou. Too soon.

Now I wonder if maybe allowing another person to give you strength takes a certain kind of strength in itself. To be able to lean all your weight on someone else with confidence in the knowledge they won’t drop you. How often does a person really find that kind of trust in another?

My hand. Is on. His penis.

Eva’s an enigma, and she’s my enigma. My secret. My lifeline.

Embrace the glorious mess that you are

Pushing out a breath, I lean against the wall and slide to the floor. I sit beside her for as long as it takes. Listening until her sobs fade and the shower turns on.

I’m a bird trapped in a self-made cage

We stopped looking for monsters under our bed when we realized that they were inside us

The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls

Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive

All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living

When she turns to leave, the bottom of her slip snags on the bed frame, revealing a tight, round ass and tiny G-string. Shit. My throat tightens, my skin burns, and the energy pulsing through my veins spikes so fast my vision blurs. I blink, and she’s tugging at the snag. Another blink, and she’s twisting around, her bare, plump ass facing me head on. Another blink, and my hand is wrapped around her throat, pulling her slowly toward me and onto the bed. I never claimed to be a predator, but right now she’s certainly the prey.

With a wink, I whisper, “Tell Daddy I miss him.

Resting my head against the wall, I breathe. And I drift to a faraway land. A land where bad men meet Karma. And bad girls get their happily ever after.

We have no use for people who don’t want to be here

I don’t deal with them. And if I don’t deal with them, I have no reason to learn their names

You are my blue crayon, the one I never have enough of, the one I use to color my sky

Not everyone knows what to do when they come across a snowflake in the desert

Lips red as blood, hair black as night, bring me your heart, my dear, dear Snow White

Pretty sure there’s a rule book that says brothers shouldn’t look at their sisters that way.” “Coming from a girl who breaks all the rules.

As long as we’re quiet,” I whisper, letting my hand wander lower, and lower, “no one ever has to know the things you do to me.

respectable girls don’t fantasize about their brother.

Because people like him—the one whose blood is caked on the shard beneath my thumb—they never stop searching. And people like me, well, we never stop running.

Having Easton’s attention on me is what I imagine a long pull of nicotine feels like to someone trying to quit smoking. It’s a shaky buzz and a serene calm all at once. It’s comfort wrapping around your lungs, with just enough squeeze to threaten your air supply. It’s home and longing, because all you want is to live in it, but you know you can’t.

I might have a fancy roof over my head and soap to wash away the dirt, but I’m still the same girl beneath. It’s important neither of us forget it.

Maybe I’ve dragged myself through the mud since then, but even mud hardens beneath your shoes. I must be standing on a mountain of it by now. And no one can touch me from way the hell up here.

I know it’s fucked up. I’m crossing lines brothers aren’t supposed to cross. Reminding myself I’m supposed to be her brother, that I’m not supposed to want her, isn’t enough to stop the obsession from spiraling, but I do it anyway. Because otherwise, I might do things—take things—I’m not supposed to have.

The thing about mistakes is they’re hard to recognize in the moment. The worst ones are like a drug—once you feel what it’s like to go with your gut, you don’t know how to stop. No matter the consequences.

I love your rough edges and soft parts that bleed. The ruins of your soul are poetry to me.” —Anita Krizzan

When half the town, law enforcement included, has paid the woman in question for an ‘adult evening,’ it’s almost impressive how quickly she loses credibility

be you. All of you. Without consequence. Without judgment

The dark, however, has always been there to comfort me. I love that fleeting moment of pure power that pumps through my veins right before I cloak myself in its shadow. The world is quickly shut out with a simple flick of a switch. Just like that. It’s the only shield no one questions or expects you to justify

A mouse trying hard to come off as a lion

There’s a reason we only hire blondes

Submissive, sure, but someone who wants it all the same

There’s only one way to really see who someone is, past all the bullshit. Let them have their moment of control, then pull their legs out from under them and watch them reach for you before they shatter. It’s fascinating how fast the truth spills when they’re on their knees, without them ever needing to utter a single word

If you are afraid of darkness, you are afraid of your own soul

She loved nothing more than a man who wasn’t afraid to test them. To test her

Like I’m a puzzle to be worked out and he’s got all damn day

Gifts are meant to be wrapped. Honestly, it’s basic etiquette

He’s just as fucked up as the rest of us. Some of us just wear our creep on our sleeves

The devil asked me how I knew my way around the walls of hell. I told him I did not need a map for the darkness I know so well

And without fear . . . you’re limitless

Do not judge my story by the chapter you walked in on

But art and sex? Those are the two things I can count on. My sole releases in this world. The only things within my control powerful enough to drown out the rest of the world

What I mean is that sometimes the things we’re drawn to tell us more about ourselves than we realize

In a place like this, you can’t help but let yourself go to your deepest secrets and desires. Your darkest corners

About the damage, of course. You show people what they want to see, and they’ll never suspect what’s underneath

There’s nothing more dishonest than words

Fit for a princess. Or a devil’s harem

I’m the one who picks up the paintbrush. Dips it into the crimson, ruby, and candy apple reds. Shuts out the voice of reason until all I know is the intoxicating shade of madness

The prince of darkness is a gentleman

You don’t exactly look like a geek who hides behind his computer. But then, you never can tell how small someone’s balls are under their suit

What do you need?” I bite out. “Wh-what do I need?” Her voice is out of breath and confused, and it only frustrates me more. “What’s it going to take to get you to follow some goddamn instructions?

You see, Emmy,” Frankie said, modeling one of the dolls and having it do a full body spin. “Now no one has to know.” “Know what?” “About the damage, of course. You show people what they want to see, and they’ll never suspect what’s underneath.

The man has no idea what real fear tastes like. Yet

Maybe she’d try to understand that the dark images muddled my brain until it hurt, until I had no choice but to let them out

I suppose it was easier to pretend I didn’t exist than it was to exorcise my demons

Art is art

Hatred’s the fuel that keeps me alive

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise

And you can’t outrun something you can’t see

There’s no good that lasts forever nor evil that never ends

I never knew hell would be so spick-and-span

This is good for you. Death is a thing of beauty, and it needs to be executed in such a way that does it justice

I’m here to serve him. I want him to use me. I want him to show me everything

Something tells me your master wouldn’t like finding you here

You think I don’t notice the way he avoids you? Not only would he let me fuck you, he’d sit back and watch. He doesn’t have the balls to touch you himself

Funny how being fucked isn’t nearly as pleasing as I remember

I’ve had rough sex, gentle sex, some unconventional and everything in between. I’ve never considered myself someone who leaned one way or the other, because it was never the act I was after—it was the release. Those blissful moments of pure, blind ignorance an orgasm provides, shutting the world down around me

Instead of ignorance, I tasted what it might be like to finally be me. I didn’t give a show this time. I had no plan, no calculations. No scolding voice inside my head. For a little while, I was free

Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people

I thought I’d felt rage before. Now an inferno eats me alive

You are terrifying and strange and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love

A violent war wages inside his head, and it shows with every twitch, every clench, every ripple overtaking him. He doesn’t just blend in with the darkness surrounding us. He sucks it dry with every inhale then feeds it with each exhale. It’s madness begging to be released. It’s pain so forbidden you can’t cry

I want you to show me. I’m not afraid

I don’t want to be whole anymore. I want you to see my pieces

Love me like the moon intended. All the way through the darkness

In this moment, I don’t care if I’m swallowed up and left as ash scattered in the wind. At least then I’d get to fly

I don’t want to resist. I don’t want to be good or bad or spared or cursed. I just want to explore whatever’s inside me. I want the freedom to be

I finally get why it’s the act of sex people seek, not just the blissful ending. Why people drag it out instead of claiming their release right away. This. This is everything. Bodies melting together as you set each other on fire. Peeling back your mask and baring your soul. Surrendering yourself to another while owning every part of them