Novel Quotes - Page 14

If she spoke, she would tell him the truth: she was not okay at all, but horribly empty, now that she knew what it was like to be filled.

Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and he passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud. There is always something(All The King's Men)

Robert Penn Warren

Please, touch me, I pray.

A man is like a novel: until the very last page you don't know how it will end. Otherwise it wouldn't even be worth reading.

Yevgeny Zamyatin

For a moment, I wondered how different my life would have been had they been my parents, but I shook the thought away. I knew my father had done the best he could, and I had no regrets about the way I'd turned out. Regrets about the journey, maybe, but not the destination. Because however it had happened, I'd somehow ended up eating shrimp in a dingy downtown shack with a girl that I already knew I'd never forget.

Nicholas Sparks

Vane grabbed me. “DuLac, let’s chat.” British-speak for “Stand still while I yell at you.

and all I could think was that I would like to spend every morning for the rest of my life waking up beside her

Nicholas Sparks

Do you think we can be friends?” I asked.He stared up at the ceiling. “Probably not, but we can pretend.

I suppose it’s not a social norm, and not a manly thing to do — to feel, discuss feelings. So that’s what I’m giving the finger to. Social norms and stuff…what good are social norms, really? I think all they do is project a limited and harmful image of people. It thus impedes a broader social acceptance of what someone, or a group of people, might actually be like.

Maybe you could be mine / or maybe we’ll be entwined / aimless in this sexless foreplay.

And when her lips met mine, I knew that I could live to be a hundred and visit every country in the world, but nothing would ever compare to that single moment when I first kissed the girl of my dreams and knew that my love would last forever.

Nicholas Sparks

Isn't it funny how the memories you cherish before a breakup can become your worst enemies afterwards? The thoughts you loved to think about, the memories you wanted to hold up to the light and view from every angle--it suddenly seems a lot safer to lock them in a box, far from the light of day and throw away the key. It's not an act of bitterness. It's an act if self-preservation. It's not always a bad idea to stay behind the window and look out at life instead, is it?

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