Quotes from Megan Hart

That was the thing about love, though, wasn't it? When you loved somebody, you wanted to give them everything you could. You wanted what was best for them, no matter what. You wanted them to move beyond what was awful and terrible, beyond anything that had ever hurt them.

Elliott took a long, deep breath. "Look. We seem to have had a misunderstanding.…" "Really?" Eyes snapping fire, Simone faced him. "Really. A misunderstanding. What part of 'I don't want to see you again, and I don't want you to come to my office' did I misunderstand? Because it seemed pretty fucking crystal to me." He winced. "No. That part was right.

Don't use the buckle," she told him with a laugh, her eyes closed, head bent. "I haven't beaten a woman with my belt before, Simone. That doesn't mean I don't have any clue about how to do it.

Crazy is a state of mind usually interpreted by other people.

This book is for the wild ones who open their eyes wide into darkness, the ones who love when they should not; this is for the ones who count and take comfort in the stars.

Sometimes you have to take your time to get your reward.

I want you," Heath said. You have me, Effie thought but didn't say aloud. You will always have me.

Could it really be so easy? Could someone who'd almost slipped through my fingers be within my grasp again—just like that? Maybe that's the thing about real love...it comes easier than the kind you have to break yourself for.

There were some things that would never go away, no matter how long ago they'd become a habit or how you tried to get rid of them.

none of them have any idea what it's like to love someone so much you'd die for them. Literally die.

It's easy to love someone when they're all you know.

You learn more from the things that end.

So what, then? You're a ghost? Because that's how it feels to me sometimes, Effie. You're a fucking ghost, and all you do is haunt me.

I'm not sure a man can ever understand the complicated matter of feminine relationships.

And still, we said nothing, like we'd all been trained so well to do.

Faced with too many choices, my mother often chose none.

Everything was heat and sweat, bump 'n' grind. Stroke and sigh.

my voice firm as I took charge. Keeping the surface polished.

More smiling. Fierce. I was getting a headache. I smiled.

It would have been so much easier if he had. If he'd put his foot down and demanded we host my parents' party someplace else. If he'd taken the choice from me, I could've blamed him for making what I wanted come true.

I got it together, of course. I always did. I pushed away what shamed me and made me unhappy, and I smoothed out the rest to make a pretty, perfect surface. It was getting harder and harder to do.

When you love someone," Heath said, "you want them to be happy more than you want it for yourself. You don't care about the price.

For anyone who's ever thought of giving up the dream . . . don't. Keep dreaming.

I want to tell you that you'll know love when it hits you, and it will all be great and you'll find that one person who makes your heart sing, the end, happily ever after. I want to do that for you, I really do. But I'm just not that person. I'm sorry.