Quotes from J.R. Ward

Algunas veces la única manera de saber lo lejos que has llegado es regresar al lugar de donde saliste.

Nunca sobreestimes el poder del odio a uno mismo, V. Es un motivador infernal.

Are you always so extreme?" "This is calm, cool, and collected, you little bitch. You don't want to see me pissed off.

The guy took off, which meant short of braining him with the glass, there was no other way of expressing his I-am-an-island opinion. Although really, that would just be a waste of good booze--Qhuinn was so hardheaded, you could have hit his frontal lobe with a crowbar and made no impression on him whatsoever.

Morning is coming." Just like a freight train.

Christ. You can be a real pain in the ass, you know that? No impulse control, but totally single-minded. Helluva combination.

Still, she felt as though she mattered, and not just in some ephemeral emotional sense, but in a nuts-and-bolts, chassis, gas-tank kind of way.

sometimes comfort could be found in the predictability of the unpleasant.

I love you," he said again as he began to shake. "God, I love you…." —

Sabes una cosa? —¿Qué? —Me gusta la forma en que me miras, Manello. —¿De verdad? —Sí. Me hace pensar en el momento en que tu boca estaba sobre mí, y me encanta recordar eso.

V sucked at sympathy. What was that saying? It was just a word between "shit" and "syphilis" in the dictionary.

No, non hai capito niente, John.» Leggendo le sue emozioni scosse la testa. «Tu non vali la metà del maschio che avresti potuto essere per colpa di quello che ti hanno fatto. Vali il doppio di chiunque altro, perché sei sopravvissuto.»

Without warning, she started to laugh so hard, tears came to her eyes. The good kind of tears, that was. And as she gave herself up to the angel's ridiculousness, Lass just sat there on the couch, staring up at Melrose Place, a sly, quiet smile on his beautiful, deranged face. What an angel he was, she thought to herself. A total angel.

He was from the land of labels. Which was not the same as quality, was it.

He willed the lights in the room off. Then he used his mind to close the back door, usher the cat into the bathroom, and slide home every lock in the apartment.

Entonces vamos, Manello. Vamos hacia la noche, hacia los nuevos conocimientos.

Hey. You still all right? Butch said softly Flicking up a light, he inhaled. Yeah. I really fucking am, true. Then he glanced into the hazels of his best friend. And... you? Yeah. Me, too. Cool. Cool. Heeeeeeeeeey, check his shit out with the relating. Any more od this and he was going to get a gold star on his chart.

The essential truth of life, he was coming to realize, wasn't romantic and took only two words to label: Shit. Happens. But the thing was, you kept going. You kept your friends and your family and your mate as safe as you were able. And you kept fighting even after you were knocked down. Goddamn it, you dragged your ass off the ground and you kept fighting.

You're some freaky shit, my brother. You really are.

Además, la mente era el arma más poderosa que uno tenía para atacar a los demás y para destruirse a sí mismo.

You don't have to say it," he murmured. "I already know." "Know what?" "That you don't want anyone to know about this soft side to you. So I'm just going to tell them that you came over, kicked me in the balls, and took my liver when I coughed it onto the floor. I had to follow you home or I wouldn't be able to cleanse my own blood.

the whole clean-break thing had been an illusion. Just because you moved on didn't mean you shed your personal history like a suit of clothes. Your past was the same as your skin: with you for life, both the proverbial beauty marks . . . and the scars. Mostly the scars

Wait, does that mean I can watch Melrose or not? The double negative confused—" "Jesus Christ, will you just go!" Lassiter was muttering as he got to his feet. "How many times do I have to tell you that is not my name." "I need a drink.

You said you wanted to remember something." His palms slid up to the tops of her thighs and squeezed. "So lie back and let me do my thing." That tongue of his made a reappearance—and didn't that make her get on board with the plan. "G'on now," he murmured with that Southern drawl. "Lie on back and let me take care of you. I promise to go slow . . . real slow.