So, 'reaper' is really just a nice word for 'covert pervert?' Is that what you're saying?
Can’t clean up after you anymore, baby brother, so don’t punk out. Make it count.
Did he show himself?” Nash asked, and I glanced to my right to see him staring at my father, as fascinated as I was. My dad nodded. “He was an arrogant little demon.” “So what happened?” I asked. “I punched him.” For a moment, we stared at him in silence. “You punched the reaper?” I asked, and my hand fell from the strainer onto the edge of the sink. “Yeah.” He chuckled at the memory, and his grin brought out one of my own. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen my father smile. “Broke his nose.
I still loved Marc desperately and couldn’t imagine life without him. Jace was…something else. Something I could feel but couldn’t articulate. Something I wanted, and hadn’t been able to resist in my grief-weakened state. He was something that would have to wait.
Faythe…?" The tremor in his voice broke my heart. Then understanding surfaced, and his tear-filled eyes searched mine desperately. "No. No," he whispered through clenched teeth. "This was not wrong. It’s the only thing I’ve done right in months. Don’t you dare regret this.
Unfortunately, what my head wanted and what my heart wanted were two completely different things.
So you’re saying the afterlife is hard on the libido? FYI, that’s probably not a good bullet point for your recruiting brochure.
Now if you’ll excuse me, Death waits for no man. Except me.
Why do you hang out with him?" "We're teammates." Ahhh. And if blood was thicker than water, then football, evidently, would congeal in one's veins.
You mostly.” Her hands went still again as her eyes stared off into the past with a look so wistful it made me ache for her. “The boys tended to take care of each other but you were too much for anyone else to handle.” I poked at the ball of yarn avoiding her eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.” She smiled. “You broke Ethan’s arm.” “It was self-defense. He wouldn’t let go of my foot.” “He was helping you tie your shoe.
How does Parker’s body compare with yours ” Great. A pop quiz I thought recognizing his transition into lecture mode. “How does Parker’s body compare with mine Hmm.” I gave Parker a quick theatrical once-over and he smiled clearly catching on to my line of thought. “Nice legs and killer biceps. But I have better boobs. No question.
Because the alternative sucks!
You think I need to be rescued?" "I think it doesn't hurt to let someone else do the rescuing every now and then, when your own armor starts to get banged up.
He shrugged, looking right into my eyes. "Right now, this is all I feel." He held our intertwined hands up for me to see and I wanted to look away, but I couldn't break the hold his gaze had on me, like he could see more than anyone else saw. Things I couldn't see myself.
How long can you keep me invisible?" "As long as were in physical contact." My throat felt dry. "Holding hands?" That's how we'd done it last time. "Unless you had something else in mind?
You think he left a big flashing arrow pointing to a filing cabinet labeled 'Evidence Here!'? He's a Stray, Ethan, not Wile E. Coyote!
Well that's too bad, because this is an assassination." "No, this is an execution." "The difference would be...?" "Assassination is murder. Execution is justice.
Her mouth was open, as if she wanted to say something, and I wanted to kiss her to show her that sometimes you don't need words. Sometimes they only get in the way, and you end up talking yourself out of things you need. People you want.
Wow," Liv said, when I dropped the mallet back into the drawer. "That looked like fun. I call dibs on the next over-the-top destruction of evidence.
I realized that I'd rather die with you than live with someone else.
I love you, Olivia," he whispered, and my heart ached as if it would break in half. "You think we'll die if we stay together, but I've been dying slowly for the last six years. I'm taking my life back, Liv. Our life together. And this time, I'm not going to let you go.
The other three incoming calls were from his building superintendent, his pharmacy and a telephone survey company." "Bastards. They always call during dinner." Liv laughed as I slid the sliced steak onto a platter and topped it with sautéed vegetables. "Forget crime lords and corrupt politicians - telemarketers are the root of all evil." "Now you're getting it.
Great. "So not only am I not-human, but Death is my arch foe?" Who, me? Panic? "Anything else you want to tell me, while we're confessing?
You should be careful, tossing descriptors like that around in a situation like this. My ‘problem’ isn’t little. Unless you’re drawing some pretty wild comparisons. Please tell me you’re not drawing wild comparisons. Or blood-relative comparisons.
As a matter of fact, I was going to offer you something.” “What did you have in mind?” "A field trip. You interested in doing something dangerous, and possibly illegal?” “Does it involve underage girls, broken curfews and assorted fruit toppings?
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: