Quotes About Confrontation

I didn't want to hide the memory from you. I wanted to cram it down your goddamn throat. I wanted to force you to face it, to want it, to want me, to be willing to fight for what was possible between us with the same single-minded devotion as you fucked.

He bristles with impatience. I feel the lust rolling off him, the violence beneath it. "You said you wanted something. What is it, Ms. Lane?" I smile coolly. "The deed to my bookstore, Barrons. What else?

Have you no sense at all, that you would provoke me? I'm twice your size, you know," he murmured against her ear.

Seni onunla yine Silvers'daki gibi yatakta görürsem onu öldürürüm.

Confronted by something she couldn't explain, she pretended it wasn't there. Dude, ostrich much?

I don't know what I can and can't do, Cruce, but I will learn, and quickly, and if you make me learn the hard way, I'll turn every bit of it against you. I can be the sheepdog that walks at your side, or I can be the wolf you don't want living in your backyard. The powerful, hungry, savage, and pissed-off wolf, and I promise you, I will delight in destroying your backyard. I have a long memory and few scruples left. It's your call, babe.

I glanced back at the two darknesses. They were moving toward us. Quickly. I looked up at Barrons. He was motionless, staring down at me. He turned and looked over his shoulder where I had been staring, then back at me. Then he pushed open the door, shoved me inside, shut the door, and slid three dead bolts behind us.

I must have stood there for five minutes trying to talk myself into opening it. The unknown is a vast paralyzing limbo. I'd like to tell you that the monster under the bed is rarely as bad as your fear of it, but in my experience it's almost always worse.

A part of me wishes they'd all just stand up and battle to the death. Make it simple. Take control through bloodshed and war.

I speak belligerence in every language known to man.

I smashed my fist into his face. Lies roll off us. It's the truths we work hardest to silence. "Then you weren't looking hard enough! I'm the one with boobs!" "I know you're the one with boobs! They're in my fucking face every fucking time I turn around!

I will confront the wasp in our nest come morning.

She had a sudden insight that wherever she was, women didn't usually wear jeans. Perhaps not even trousers. His jaw tensed and his breathing quickened noticeably. He looked every inch a predator, poised in the heightened alertness that precedes the kill. "They're all I have!" she said defensively. He raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I doona wish to discuss it, lass. Not now. Perhaps never.

Who are you?" he began quietly. He would continue in a gentle voice until she demonstrated resistance. Then he might roar at her. With a small measure of amusement, he conceded the probability that this lass would roar back.

Drop your blinders and raise the sewer to eye level; admit you're swimming in shit. If you don't acknowledge the turd hurtling down the drain toward you, you can't dodge it. You have to face every challenge together.

If that was how he asserted his control, she might just have to challenge his authority more often.

Perhaps, Ms. Lane, you and I are fighting different wars." If he thought becoming evil was a solution, not a problem, he was right, we were.

Don't make it war, he said, and I won't. I don't have to. He already did.

There's no place on Earth, feck, there's no place in all of heaven or hell that they'll ever be safe from me again!

The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were trouble." "Ditto." "I wanted to drag you between the shelves, fuck you senseless, and send you home." "If you'd done that, I never would have left." "You're still here anyway." "You don't have to sound so sour about it." "You're upsetting my entire existence." "Fine, I'll leave." "Try and I'll chain you up.

I couldn't tell the difference between the two of you anymore!" he roared. I smashed my fist into his face. Lies roll off us. It's the truths we work hardest to silence. Then you weren't looking hard enough! I'm the one with boobs!" I know you're the one with boobs!They're in my fucking face every fucking time I turn around!

Over my dead body was his first thought. His second? No, Over Carls.

Cillian fixed his uncle with a homicidal stare. Under the table, he touched his girlfriend's foot with his foot; his eyebrows lifted in apology. His mother shot up with her steaming cauldron of beans, giving everyone another punitive lima ladle and removing the beer from the table.

Stupid people rarely want to hear the truth.