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Kindle Notes & Highlights
My favorite books, love songs, movies, the ones that resonated with me, have kept me grieving long after I turned the last page, the notes faded out, or the credits rolled.
The only love I’ve ever known or craved is the kind that keeps me sick, sick with longing, sick with lust, sick with need, sick with grief. The distorted kind that leaves scars and jaded hearts.
“You’re fucking adorable. And beautiful. But let’s be honest, a little too young and good of a girl to be hanging out with us assholes.”
Happy people can’t pick up pennies with their ass cheeks.
I expect passion and butterflies, and one or two fairy tale moments. When we fight, I want it to hurt. When we fuck, I want to feel it with every fiber of my being. When a man confesses his love to me, I expect him to mean it. I don’t want to question the words’ authenticity. I want to be claimed and owned and ruled and possessed by love.
My greatest hope is to be in all-consuming love. My biggest fear is to be in all-consuming love.
“You catchin’ feelings for me, Pup?” All I can do is give him the same honesty. “Yes, of course I am. We . . . I was hoping . . . I don’t know.” “That’s right, we don’t, so let’s not go around getting offended and slinging drama where it isn’t needed. You want to trust me, but you’re not letting yourself, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I can tell you every day you’re safe with me, but unless you believe it, it’s pointless. And for the record, I caught feelings the minute I laid eyes on you.”
“It’s okay to want his dick, baby, I’ll watch it go inside you and fucking love the view, and the savage it’ll make me.”
“My rainy days are yours, Dominic. If you want them.” “It rains a lot here,” he says after a few long beats. “Fine with me. But my sunny days belong to Sean.”
A group of ravens is called a conspiracy; the irony of that not at all lost on me.
“You’re the only woman who can keep this bird circling back. Know that, Cecelia.”
