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594 books
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378 voters
Abbie Blick
https://www.goodreads.com/mason19
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.
“His hands are holding my cheeks, and he pulls back just to look me in the eye and his chest is heaving and he says, "I think," he says, "my heart is going to explode," and I wish, more than ever, that I knew how to capture moments like these and revisit them forever.
Because this.
This is everything.”
― Ignite Me
Because this.
This is everything.”
― Ignite Me
“He's still looking at me, searching my eyes like he's found something he can't bear to walk away from. His hands move to my face; his thumb brushes my cheek. His voice is so tender when he speaks.
"You will go on to greatness," he whispers. "I have never deserved you."
My heart.”
― Ignite Me
"You will go on to greatness," he whispers. "I have never deserved you."
My heart.”
― Ignite Me
“Words are like seeds, I think, planted into our hearts at a tender age. They take root in us as we grow, settling deep into our souls. The good words plant well. They flourish and find homes in our hearts. They build trunks around our spines, steadying us when we’re feeling most flimsy; planting our feet firmly when we’re feeling most unsure. But the bad words grow poorly. Our trunks infest and spoil until we are hollow and housing the interests of others and not our own. We are forced to eat the fruit those words have borne, held hostage by the branches growing arms around our necks, suffocating us to death, one word at a time.”
― Ignite Me
― Ignite Me
“It's the kind of kiss that inspires stars to climb into the sky and light up the world. The kind that takes forever and no time at all.”
― Ignite Me
― Ignite Me
“So she told me a story. A story about a boy who was born with very green eyes, and the man who was so captivated by their color that he searched the world for a stone in exactly the same shade.” His voice is fading now, falling into whispers so quiet I can hardly hear him. “She said the boy was me. That this ring was made from that very same stone, and that the man had given it to her, hoping one day she’d be able to give it to me. It was his gift, she said, for my birthday." He stops. Breathes. “And then she took it off, slipped it on my index finger, and said, ‘If you hide your heart, he will never be able to take it from you'.”
― Ignite Me
― Ignite Me
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Abbie’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Abbie’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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