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“You can’t ever take your love for granted. It’s like a flower than needs sun, water, and food to survive. Without them, it cannot bloom. And besides, it’s never too late to fall in love all over again, even for us old folks.”
― Please Remember Me
― Please Remember Me
“whiff. I inhaled his scent, and my body trembled. “All I can smell is you,” I replied. “And it’s pretty fucking incredible.” Hank rested his forehead against mine. “I’m glad you like it. I made it myself.”
― Please Remember Me
― Please Remember Me
“My type tended to have lean muscles, a firm bubble butt, and a nice cock. Now someone like that would have my complete and undivided attention.”
― Spell Bound
― Spell Bound
“The kid was about as exciting as a bowl of cold oatmeal.”
― Spell Bound
― Spell Bound
“There are no fools... or rules. It's Provincetown!”
― When Love Takes Over
― When Love Takes Over
“He didn’t have to tell me that. I knew Hank better than anyone else. He went out of his way not to hurt people. “And I love you even more for it. But you should know, I’m willing to be hurt because that’s what love is.”
Hank stared at me out of the corners of his eyes. Clearly he was questioning my sanity.
“It’s true,” I said with a firm nod. “It’s not always hot sex and romantic candlelit dinners. Or picnics in the park or fun days at the zoo. True love exists in the gaps between those moments. It’s in the arguments, where you’re so angry at each other that you may want to throw a tantrum and walk out the door, but you don’t. It lives in the hard times when one of you is sick or exhausted, and you have to carry each other for miles with no rest, and even though your body aches and you want to let go, you don’t.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever known that kind of love.” He glanced at his hands in his lap. “My relationships have always been the bad kind. Where one of us gives up or gives in.”
“Well, love that is worth anything isn’t like that. It blooms in the dead of winter because we have fed its soul in the spring and summer. That is what I fight for. You may not feel what I do because you lack the memories I have, but you feel something. I can see it in the way you look at me or touch me, and I can see you fighting it. Maybe because you’re afraid of hurting me or because you don’t understand what these emotions are. I don’t really know, but you should know this: Fighting it won’t make it go away, and it won’t change how our story will end. We will get married. We will grow old together. And before we breathe our last, the final words we will utter will be each other’s names.”
― Please Remember Me
Hank stared at me out of the corners of his eyes. Clearly he was questioning my sanity.
“It’s true,” I said with a firm nod. “It’s not always hot sex and romantic candlelit dinners. Or picnics in the park or fun days at the zoo. True love exists in the gaps between those moments. It’s in the arguments, where you’re so angry at each other that you may want to throw a tantrum and walk out the door, but you don’t. It lives in the hard times when one of you is sick or exhausted, and you have to carry each other for miles with no rest, and even though your body aches and you want to let go, you don’t.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever known that kind of love.” He glanced at his hands in his lap. “My relationships have always been the bad kind. Where one of us gives up or gives in.”
“Well, love that is worth anything isn’t like that. It blooms in the dead of winter because we have fed its soul in the spring and summer. That is what I fight for. You may not feel what I do because you lack the memories I have, but you feel something. I can see it in the way you look at me or touch me, and I can see you fighting it. Maybe because you’re afraid of hurting me or because you don’t understand what these emotions are. I don’t really know, but you should know this: Fighting it won’t make it go away, and it won’t change how our story will end. We will get married. We will grow old together. And before we breathe our last, the final words we will utter will be each other’s names.”
― Please Remember Me
“These witches were like Martha Stewart on crack.”
― Soul Struck
― Soul Struck
“We all have it rough. It’s just a different kind of rough for everyone.”
― Being True
― Being True
“spells,”
― Soul Struck
― Soul Struck
