Quotes About Intensity

Hockey is murder on ice.

Bjorn was a different breed, I threw my best material at him, but he would never smile, but that added to the charm when he played me and Mac. We were going nuts and losing our mind and he was sitting back like he was on a Sunday stroll.

Ten inches of raw uncut power.

coffee strong enough to grow hair on a frog,

I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dryrot. I would rather be a superb meteor every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of a man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.

Fuck me, Gray. Make me forget my own name." He couldn't speak for her, but he certainly forgot his.

Grayson James, on the other hand,could give me a tongue-lashing of a different sort. A very welcome one.

Why do you think, A.J.," they say in unison, "that you find these boys so attractive?" I didn't say that this fiery chemical explosion leaps from somewhere inside me. Parents don't want to hear these things. I shrugged and said nothing. "Maybe you should try sitting on the intensity," Mom suggests, "just until your feelings catch up with reality." "We could chain you to the water heater," Dad offers, "until these little moments pass." You see what I'm up against.

I think there's nothing better than seeing a three-chord straight up rock 'n' roll band in your face with sweaty music and three minute good songs.

She yanked open his shirt, put the injector against his heart and pulled the trigger. She held her breath waiting to see if it would work, ticking off the seconds. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. The twitching stopped. Forty. Fifty. Sixty. Owen opened his eyes. Bay smiled at him. "Those are the loveliest red-rimmed eyes I've ever seen." Owen managed a wobbly grin. "Ditto.

The works must be conceived with fire in the soul but executed with clinical coolness.

But woman's grief is like a summer storm, Short as it violent is.

This book is written in blood. Is it written entirely in blood? No, some of it is written in tears.

Gonna fuck you now." "Sure," I whispered, dazed. "Not sure I'm gonna be able to participate too much, think you blew a circuit or something.

You're all mine, babe. Knew it the first time I saw you. Couldn't give you up if I tried.

I want to own every part of you," he continued, his breath hot against my skin. "I want to throw you face-first across this counter, rip off those shorts, and fuck you hard and fast until my goddamned cock stops hurting and my balls don't feel like they're gonna explode. Because they've felt that way for a helluva long time, Soph, and I'm startin' to think it's not gonna go away unless I do something about it.

To hell with this slow shit. "You're wearing too much," I said. "Take something off, because otherwise I'm going to start ripping things.

I'd fallen in love with Melanie Tucker. Not some little-boy, bullshit needy "love"… This was deep, almost painful in its unholy intensity. It was like she'd sent tendrils burrowing deep inside, binding us together so tightly I'd die if I ever tried to pull them out. I was truly, deeply, and utterly fucked, because I fucking loved this girl…and she wasn't for me.

I don't say sweet things and make love and all that bullshit. I like sex hard and rough, no holding back.

Pull down your fucking pants," I repeated, reaching down to grab my cock. "I want in. Now.

Ruger's eyes darkened. "You want this as much as I do," he said, voice soft. "It's not goin' away. We're just going to burn up higher and higher until one of us explodes and we get hurt. Let's end it now. I need inside you, Sophie.

If you look at me like that for even one more second, I'm gonna throw you down on that bed and fuck every part of you, starting with your tits. Unless that's on the menu, you need to grab your shit and leave while you still can. This is the only warning you'll get.

Jesus . . ." he groaned. "You got two seconds before I lay you over that table and fuck you so hard it breaks. Swear to God, Soph.

Fuck me," Ruger muttered, leaning his forehead down against mine. I was still wrapped around him, back against the van, enclosed in his arms