Quotes from J.R. Ward

What's up with the statue routine?" Trez muttered. "Someone move your My Little Pony collection again?

Blay thought of the text that he didn't intend to ignore. "You suck." "Yes, I do, don't I." Qhuinn licked his lips. "And you like me to.

No offense," she muttered, "but fucking drink.

Sometimes dragon slayers... Were just slayers.

But the ignition did, in fact, occur. And it changed everything.

Here was the thing: People felt the way they did and it wasn't their fault or yours if the connection was one-sided. It just . . . was.

She looked into the room. So many machines and wires and tubes - a reminder that the human body was an incredible miracle, its countless autonomic functions a gift when they were operating as intended, and a cumbersome nightmare to have to approximate when they were not.

Sometimes kindness and love could be just as difficult as violence to witness. Sometimes, when you were on the outside looking in, watching two in-sync people was a scene from a horror film, the kind of thing that you wanted to look away from, forget about, banish the memory of - especially when you were about to go to bed for the day and facing hours upon hours of being alone in the dark. The knowledge that she would never have that special love with anyone was-

The thing was all mortals were going to lose the ones they loved. It was the way life worked. But for the most of the time, that reality was so far off in the mind that it had no more weight than a mere hypothetical. There were reminders, however, and the almost's, the near-misses, the oh-God-please-no's, snapped your chain and got you to stop and feel what was in your heart.

The past is what it is—good and bad, it's written and unchanging. And there's solace to be had in that.

Everyone needs something from their mother. It's the way it works. When he smiled, she said, What? No one ever disagrees with me. But you. Jane looked down at her own hands, her brows getting tight. Not one of my virtues, huh. Actually, it's a part of you I love most. When she glanced at him in surprise, he leaned in quick and kissed her on the mouth--even though he shouldn't have.

But if you had to have something to live for, it might as well be love, right?

Welcome to the wonderful world of jealousy, he thought. For the price of admission, you get a splitting headache, a nearly irresistible urge to commit murder, and an inferiority complex.

Joy was worn like a new suit of clothes on people. You could see it on every inch of them, from their step to their stare. But sadness and loss were hidden, kept quiet under composure and the shelter of daily activity.

The waitress looked a little awkward. "Is all that for both you and your sister?

There was a reason for rituals. When you were lost in your own life, they provided a false structure, like paper walls for your house of cards, the illusion that things were predictable and safe sometimes the only thing that got you through.

Staring at her in his arms, he knew that he would lay his life down for hers without regret. He would slay dragons and move mountains for her. He would conquer whole worlds at her command and starve to skin and bones just to ensure she had food. She was not his sun or moon, but his galaxy.

Without time, you have only the bottomless, shapeless mire of eternity....Time is what gives life significance.

As V dropped the bomb, there was a momentary period of silent saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay-whaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Then a shit-ton of gasps and cursing in the room, all kinds of WTF hitting the airwaves.

You are the male I might have been. You are the potential I had and lost. You are the honor and the strength and the kindness she needs. You'll take care of her.

He tapped the artificial leg. "I am not whole." True, she thought sadly. He was not whole, although it had nothing to do with him missing part of a limb.

When it comes to… things … about you and sex, I've always worried that I might not be quite enough for you. - Jane Fuck … no … you're everything to me. - Vishous

All around, grown men were getting out of cars and shoving at each other like fifteen-year-olds, the bunch of juiced-up, armchair quarterbacks ready to peanut-gallery it up: The closest they were going to get to the octagon was standing on the outside of the chicken wire looking in.

As Jane stared at Vishous and felt his body against hers, she knew she was never letting him go. Ever. And she also knew that if they could make it through the past week, they had the staying power that good marriages—or matings—required.