Torres Quotes

A gentleman holds my hand. A man pulls my hair. A soulmate will do both.

The true measure of a man is how he treats you when others are not looking.

I'm done. I don't need anything more out of life. I have you, and that's enough.

No one is normal. Everyone is just pretending to be normal.

The heart is stubborn. It holds onto love despite what sense and emotion tells it. And it is often, in the battle of those three, the most brilliant of all.

I don’t love you despite this. I love you, including this. Every part of you, even parts you don’t know.

True love makes a person reckless, makes them take risks and make sacrifices. True love tests the boundaries of our person, makes us yearn to be better and fight for the ground we stand on. I will fight for this love. Lie for it. Steal for it. It’s worthy of that.

Vive muchos años... Vive intensamente, vivelo todo... Vive por mi la vida que yo no pude vivir. Kai

(Regarding Marriage) Both people need to care deeply about the other person, to put the other’s needs before their own, and to make a daily commitment to that person to stick it out.

I love you. Every dark and light piece of you.

Love isn't about being happy. Be single and be happy. Love is about putting him, his sanity, his happiness, first. If you aren't willing to do that then you aren't really in love.

Pity is a bitch I’d like to avoid.

Go ahead. Judge me. You have no idea what my love entails. I love two men. I fuck two men. If you think you've heard this story before, you haven't

But I will never forget you. I will always miss you.

El destino suele estar a la vuelta de la esquina. Como si fuese un chorizo, una furcia o un vendedor de lotería: sus tres encarnaciones más socorridas. Pero lo que no hace es visitas a domicilio. Hay que ir a por él. -Fermín Romero de Torres.

Life is short. Eat dessert first.

This love is worth the unsaid truths. The hidden lies.

Let me give you a bit of advice.' the girl said bitterly, 'from one working girl to another; life isn't easy, no matter where you are. You'll make choices you think are right and then suffer for them.' Those remarkable eyes flickered. 'So if you're going to be miserable, you might as well go to Antica and be miserable in the shadow of the Torre Cesme.

When you really love someone, you cannot walk away. No matter what they do. No matter the lies from their mouth, or the actions from their bodies, you tie yourself tightly to their sail and vow to be there through thick and thin. Let the wind blow you where it may. Even if that place is a crash. Even if that place tears you apart and kills anything good.

I loved you. I still love you. Even when I hate you, I love you. I always will. I’m not a smart man, but I know that.” ... “Tell me what you want. If you want it, I’ll leave. Not for him. I’ll never do anything for him. But for you, I’ll do it. I’ll fucking kill myself inside of him.

Lust is a dangerous thing. It can make you believe things that are not real. It can seduce your mind and lead it blindfolded to the cliff that will be its demise.

To girls with broken hearts and vengeful souls. Go forth and raise hell.

I've wanted to win at everything, every day, since I was a kid. And time doesn't change a person, it just helps you get a handle on who you are. Even at age 41, I still hate losing--I'm just more gracious about it. I'm also aware that setbacks have an upside; they fuel new dreams.

Hope, in general, is dangerous. Hope can be the loose thread that pulls apart your sanity.

Wait for the man who will do anything to be your everything. And will continue to do it after he has your heart.

Above all else, it is about leaving a mark that I existed: I was here. I was hungry. I was defeated. I was happy. I was sad. I was in love. I was afraid. I was hopeful. I had an idea and I had a good purpose and that's why I made works of art.

Sex should be about mutual enjoyment, connection, the borrowing from another’s fire at a moment when you want it most.

He went full frontal in The Evidence Locker. America swooned and my vibrator got a fresh round of batteries.

The black wolf’s curse awakes every time that a full moon points in the middle of the sky.

The act of sex is healthy, normal, God-given. It's the emotions and entitlement that everyone attaches to it that is harmful.

Army, Marriage, the Church, and Baking: the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. Fermin Romero de Torres - The Shadow of the Wind.

She fucks because she loves it and loves through it. It is her gift to the world, and I am lucky enough to be a part of that world.

True love tests the boundaries of our person, makes us yearn to be better and fight for the ground we stand on.

I hate society’s notion that there is something wrong with sex. Something wrong with a woman who loves sex.

His looks are my weakness, his mind my undoing.

The water doesn't know how old you are.

Marrying the wrong person only denies you both a chance at your soul mate.

I won’t stop until my mouth is imprinted on your mind and your taste is my fucking middle name.

Gentlemen are a dying breed. Do your part to help out by supporting them sexually.

-Como podemos amar, incluso despues de muertos? ¿Como podemos sentir cosas, si no tenemos cuerpos? ------(Kai) -Porque los sentimientos van mucho mas allá de lo material, Kai. ---(Aonia)

Liar.” I accused. He laughed and leaned in, close enough for only me to hear his response. “Yes, baby. And so are you.

Kissed. Worshipped. Seduced. Fucked within an inch of her life.

No tienes ni la menor idea de lo que ha significado para mi recoger todos los pedazos de mis sueños rotos" Shi-Mae

Diré cómo nacisteis, placeres prohibidos, Como nace un deseo sobre torres de espanto

She’s worse than your ex,” Torres mumbled. “She’s your what-if.

I need you to be fully mine. I need you to love only me.

Yo he visto cosas, he vivido cosas. No creo en el destino." Salamandra

I don’t mind being killer-crazy, but I don’t want to be loony-bin-crazy. That would probably be bad for business—a bit of a turnoff.

Hard, fast. He fucked me as if he hated me, but the words spilling out were nothing but love.

There is a level when your heart breaks past the point of repair. When it shatters into pieces that cannot be glued back together.

Death. It is a strange stalker, one that we spend our whole lives running from, some more successful than others.

Kissed you. I just kissed you. Big fucking deal. You wouldn’t shut up.

Existo en un plano diferente al tuyo, podemos estar eternamente juntos y eternamente separados'' Kai

The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.

We hit and we kept on hitting; we were allowed to be what we were, frightened and vengeful — little animals, clawing at what we needed.

Life is a series of stupid decisions interrupted by luck.

Let Jesus be your boyfriend for now and save yourself from all that trouble.

Security is a strange thing, a myth that the brain allows in exchange for a brief moment of peace.

I don’t love you despite this. I love you, including this.

Disappointment in others is tough. But disappointment in yourself is far worse.

The attraction of reading is that it allows you to live, for a few hours, as someone else—grants you access to their head, their thoughts, their secrets.

The man shouldn’t be allowed to have a mouth. Shouldn’t be allowed to use that thing like a weapon.

Between two naive and innocent souls, anything can happen. Soulmates or Tragedy. And sometimes, both.

Others letting you down is ice cream and cookies compared with the rejection of your own soul. I don’t know what is sadder, expecting myself to fail or being too scared to dream of success.

Paul loves me with unconditional warmth, his affection public and obvious, his arms pulling me into him, his mouth littering my body with frequent kisses.

A child is the quickest to trust because they have no concept of the depravity of our species.

In this moment, he takes my heart as well as my body.

Wherever you need to go... Gods or fate or just pure coincidence and kindness, it was a gift. This was a gift. The world was wide-open—wide-open and hers for the taking, if she dared. She could go to Antica, attend the Torre Cesme, go anywhere she wished. If she dared. Yrene smiled. An hour later, no one stopped Yrene Towers as she walked out of the White Pig and never looked back.

Love is only made more valuable by the risk of heartbreak.

I love her completely . She returns the love wildly. This love is worth the unsaid truths. The hidden lies.

I am content, in these four walls, without normality. Money? Yes. Miserable? At times. But that is what being content is. Comfortable enough with the situation not to prompt change.

How much money I have is not indicative of my worth. If it was, then I would be the lesser individual on this porch.

Casi había olvidado el dolor que se siente por dentro cuando es tan evidente que tú y yo no somos iguales.

They believe what they see, because they want to believe. They want to believe that I am normal. And for the brief moments I am with them, I fool myself into thinking the same thing.

There is nothing like young love. It comes at a time before the heart knows to protect itself, when everything important is raw and exposed—the perfect environment for a soul-sucking, heart-crushing burst.

There was so much bullshit flying around that our flies were confused.

Nawin: Patética humana Salamandra: Elfa engreída

I am a woman. I don’t always act rationally, especially when it’s a week before my period, my brain was still strung out from orgasms, and I was looking at another woman’s lipstick on my man.

Never put an age limit on your dreams

God's dreams for us is far better than our own. He desires that we be able to maximize every potential and every gift that He has given us.

The word ‘tight’ has twenty-two definitions, but my favorite is Webster’s fifth - “a bond which cannot be broken.

Now I knew why they said you fell in love. I plummeted with no parachute, and hoped like hell he would catch me when I hit the bottom. Only, there hadn’t been a bottom. There was just him.

True love makes a person reckless, makes them take risks and make sacrifices. True love tests the boundaries of our person, makes us yearn to be better and fight for the ground we stand on.

I will fight for this love. Lie for it. Steal for it. It is worthy of that.

Tú no eres un error. Eres una criatura extraordinaria, Fenris, seas lo que seas'' Ronna

I'd proven to the world that maturity, experience, dedication, and ingenuity can make up for a little senescence. Muscle tightening is not the only thing that happens to our bodies over time. We gain knowledge, focus, and understanding, and those things can help us win.

Stay at my house. The minute I get off that plane I will drive there, pin you down on my bed, and worship your pussy. I won’t stop until my mouth is imprinted on your mind and your taste is my fucking middle name.

Stewart loves me with a tiger’s intensity, his need taking my breath away, his confidence in our relationship strong enough to not be bothered by the presence of another man. He stares into my soul as if he owns it, and shows his love with money, sex, and rare moments of time.

Recuerdo muy bien la emoción, la alegría que sentí al pisar el acelerador. Si ha habido alguna vez una mujer enamorada, ésa era yo. Si alguna vez he estado enamorada, fue entonces, el día que viajé desde la provincia de Cuenca hasta la de Castellón, conduciendo por carreteras secundarias con un Ford Fiesta rojo que se ahogaba en todas las cuestas y un corazón tan grande que no me cabía en el cuerpo. Era demasiado amor. Demasiado grande, demasiado complicado, demasiado confuso, y arriesgado, y fecundo, y doloroso. Tanto como yo podía dar, más del que me convenía. Por eso se rompió. No se agotó, no se acabó, no se murió, sólo se rompió, se vino abajo como una torre demasiado alta, como una apuesta demasiado alta, como una esperanza demasiado alta.

Our economic order is tightly woven around the exploitation of animals, and while it may seem easy to dismiss concern about animals as the soft-headed mental masturbation of people who really don't understand oppression and the depths of actual human misery, I hope to get you to think differently about suffering and pain, to convince you that animals matter, and to argue that anyone serious about ending domination and hierarchy needs to think critically about bringing animals into consideration.

Pero la vida tiene el engañoso ritmo del stop motion. Crees asistir al laborioso paso de los días, tomados foto a foto, cuesta arriba en la producción, y cuando te das cuenta en realidad estaba corriendo la película. Y te ves de pronto leyendo los créditos.

He couldn’t. Never again, not with anyone else. Nothing would ever, after that moment, compare. Not with her cry, not with her reaction, not with her kiss. A woman shouldn’t be created in such heartbreakingly beautiful combinations. A woman shouldn’t, in fifteen minutes, have the ability to ruin him for life.

We wanted more. We knocked the butt ends of our forks against the table, tapped our spoons against our empty bowls; we were hungry. We wanted more volume, more riots. We turned up the knob on the TV until our ears ached with the shouts of angry men. We wanted more music on the radio; we wanted beats; we wanted rock. We wanted muscles on our skinny arms. We had bird bones, hollow and light, and we wanted more density, more weight. We were six snatching hands, six stomping feet; we were brothers, boys, three little kings locked in a feud for more.

Yes, I was a twenty-nine year old woman who lived with her mother. One who didn’t do drugs, party, or have sex. I read books, drank the occasional beer on a hot afternoon, and did the Times crossword puzzle on Sunday afternoons. I hadn’t attended college, I wasn’t particularly gorgeous, and I often forgot to shave my legs. On the upside, I could cook some mean dumplings and bring myself to orgasm within five minutes. Not at the same time, mind you. I wasn’t that talented.

Being a writer all boils down to this: It's you, in a chair, staring at a page. And you're either going to stay in that chair until words are written, or you're going to give up and walk away. The great writers have to fight for their words. They have to choose to write, choose words over distractions, and their characters over their friends. Great writers can be lonely, exhausted souls. But through our characters, we live.

This is your heritage,' he said, as if from this dance we could know about his own childhood, about the flavor and grit of tenement buildings in Spanish Harlem, and projects in Red Hook, and dance halls, and city parks, and about his own Paps, how he beat him, how he taught him to dance, as if we could hear Spanish in his movements, as if Puerto Rico was a man in a bathrobe, grabbing another beer from the fridge and raising it to drink, his head back, still dancing, still steeping and snapping perfectly in time.

My journey in this relationship hasn’t been as difficult as hers, but there were times I struggled. Thank God I didn’t walk away when I suspected an affair. Thank God my heart kept an iron grip on her and wouldn’t let me move. The frustration, the unknowing, the jealousy… it was grueling, but reinforced one of the first things I said to Lana: ‘It was worth it as soon as I saw you’. And it was. It was more than worth it. It was the start of my life, the day my heart started beating. I love this woman. I will always love her, as will every part of my soul.

Hi there, cutie." Ash turned his head to find an extremely attractive college student by his side. With black curly hair, she was dressed in jeans and a tight green top that displayed her curves to perfection. "Hi." "You want to go inside for a drink? It's on me." Ash paused as he saw her past, present, and future simultaneously in his mind. Her name was Tracy Phillips. A political science major, she was going to end up at Harvard Med School and then be one of the leading researchers to help isolate a mutated genome that the human race didn't even know existed yet. The discovery of that genome would save the life of her youngest daughter and cause her daughter to go on to medical school herself. That daughter, with the help and guidance of her mother, would one day lobby for medical reforms that would change the way the medical world and governments treated health care. The two of them would shape generations of doctors and save thousands of lives by allowing people to have groundbreaking medical treatments that they wouldn't have otherwise been able to afford. And right now, all Tracy could think about was how cute his ass was in leather pants, and how much she'd like to peel them off him. In a few seconds, she'd head into the coffee shop and meet a waitress named Gina Torres. Gina's dream was to go to college herself to be a doctor and save the lives of the working poor who couldn't afford health care, but because of family problems she wasn't able to take classes this year. Still Gina would tell Tracy how she planned to go next year on a scholarship. Late tonight, after most of the college students were headed off, the two of them would be chatting about Gina's plans and dreams. And a month from now, Gina would be dead from a freak car accident that Tracy would see on the news. That one tragic event combined with the happenstance meeting tonight would lead Tracy to her destiny. In one instant, she'd realize how shallow her life had been, and she'd seek to change that and be more aware of the people around her and of their needs. Her youngest daughter would be named Gina Tory in honor of the Gina who was currently busy wiping down tables while she imagined a better life for everyone. So in effect, Gina would achieve her dream. By dying she'd save thousands of lives and she'd bring health care to those who couldn't afford it... The human race was an amazing thing. So few people ever realized just how many lives they inadvertently touched. How the right or wrong word spoken casually could empower or destroy another's life. If Ash were to accept Tracy's invitation for coffee, her destiny would be changed and she would end up working as a well-paid bank officer. She'd decide that marriage wasn't for her and go on to live her life with a partner and never have children. Everything would change. All the lives that would have been saved would be lost. And knowing the nuance of every word spoken and every gesture made was the heaviest of all the burdens Ash carried. Smiling gently, he shook his head. "Thanks for asking, but I have to head off. You have a good night." She gave him a hot once-over. "Okay, but if you change your mind, I'll be in here studying for the next few hours." Ash watched as she left him and entered the shop. She set her backpack down at a table and started unpacking her books. Sighing from exhaustion, Gina grabbed a glass of water and made her way over to her... And as he observed them through the painted glass, the two women struck up a conversation and set their destined futures into motion. His heart heavy, he glanced in the direction Cael had vanished and hated the future that awaited his friend. But it was Cael's destiny. His fate... "Imora thea mi savur," Ash whispered under his breath in Atlantean. God save me from love.

He loved her. He did. He fucking loved this woman. He loved her giggle when she couldn’t control it. He loved the mischief in her eyes when she was playful. He loved how her body stiffened and hands balled up and her gaze could eat through a grown man when she was mad. But none of that compared to how much he loved her sighs, the sound of his name when she screamed it, the way her mouth responded to his kisses, her scent—God he could bottle her juices and become a billionaire, but he would never because he couldn’t, in that moment, ever imagine another man with her. He would kill to keep her his, pay every cent of his fortune, destroy his career and never have another if it would keep her his. This was not a rebound, this was not infatuation, this was the end of his life as he knew it, and the realization hit that even if she didn’t want him, he would never ever find another woman like her, he would never ever get over her. He closed his eyes, felt her leg move against his, her chest heaving against his, her mouth by his neck, and he had never been so terrified.

Always more, always hungrily scratching for more. But there were times, quiet moments, when our mother was sleeping, when she hadn’t slept in two days, and any noise, any stair creak, any shut door, any stifled laugh, any voice at all, might wake her, those still, crystal mornings, when we wanted to protect her, this confused goose of a woman, this stumbler, this gusher, with her backaches and headaches and her tired, tired ways, this uprooted Brooklyn creature, this tough talker, always with tears when she told us she loved us, her mixed-up love, her needy love, her warmth, those mornings when sunlight found the cracks in our blinds and laid itself down in crisp strips on our carpet, those quiet mornings when we’d fix ourselves oatmeal and sprawl onto our stomachs with crayons and paper, with glass marbles that we were careful not to rattle, when our mother was sleeping, when the air did not smell like sweat or breath or mold, when the air was still and light, those mornings when silence was our secret game and our gift and our sole accomplishment—we wanted less: less weight, less work, less noise, less father, less muscles and skin and hair. We wanted nothing, just this, just this.