J.R. Ward Quotes

Funny thing about glass. When you broke the shit up, it got pissed and bit back.

He swiveled his head towards Eddie. "Tell me how to get over to the Four Lads. Do I have to die again?"If he did, he had a Beretta on him and he knew what kicking the bucket from a gunshot was like. Snore."Don't bother." Adrian cracked his knuckles. "They're not going to tell you anything. They can't."What the fuck? "I thought I worked for them.""You work for both sides, and they've given you all the help they can."Jim looked back and forth between the two angels. Each of them had the tight expression of a guy with a shoestring noosing up his balls."Help?" he said. "Where's my goddamned help?""They gave you us, asshole," Adrian snapped. "And that's all they can do--I've already gone over and asked them who's supposed to be next. I figured it would help you, you ungrateful bastard.

If sex were food, Rhage would have been morbidly obese.

Welcome to the wonderful world of jealousy, he thought. For the price of admission, you get a splitting headache, a nearly irresistable urge to commit murder, and an inferiority complex. Yippee.

The staircase that was revealed was lit with a soft red glow.I feel like I'm walking down into a porn movie," V muttered as they took the steps with care.Wouldn't that require more black candles for you," Zsadist cracked.At the bottom of the landing, they looked left and right down a corridor carved out of stone, seeing row after row of...black candles with ruby color flames.I take that back," Z said, eyeing the display.We start hearing chick-a-wow-wow shit," V cut in, "can I start calling you Z-packed?"Not if you want to keep breathing.

But then, gifts are like beauty, are they not. It is in the eye of the recipient that they find their seat, not in the hand of the giver.

he(Quinn)put his hand out to his friend. “I’ll lay my life down for you.With or Without that piece of paper

husband and my family and the better half of WriterDog. Prologue

Fear of change was a weakness

As the Brotherhood got down to business, he found himself putting his hand on the dog’s big head and stroking the soft fur…playing with an ear…dipping down and finding the long waves that flowed from the animal’s broad, strong chest.Not that any of that meant he was keeping the the animal, of course.It just felt nice, was all.

Letting go meant you accepted what couldn't be changed. You didn't try to hold on to hope in order to coerce a change in fortune...nor did you battle against superior forces of fate and try to make them capitulate to your will...nor did you beg for salvation because you assumed you knew better. Letting go meant you stared at what was before you with clear eyes, recognizing that unfettered choice was the exception and destiny the rule.

V had a passing thought that she used the word "anyway" like an eraser on a crowded chalkboard. She said it whenever she needed to clear off the things she'd just shared to make room for more.

You know,” he said, “this is why I love you so much.”Her tone was heartbreakingly warm. “What do you mean?”You don’t ask me to go inside because it’s cold. You just want to make it easier for me to be where I want to stand.

Tell you what, you let me go, and I’ll ask you plenty of questions about your race. Until then, I’m slightly distracted with how this little vacation on the good ship Holy Sh*t is going to pan out for me.

Z: "You know, this was a hell of a lot easier when you were out cold in the back of that truck."Phury: "That was you?"Z:"You think it was Santa Claus or some shit?

Rule number four for me as a writer? Plotlines are like sharks: They either keep moving or they die. ~J.R. Ward

Time to the face the music,

Sometimes your whole life could hinge on a fraction of an inch. Or the beat of nanosecond. Or the knock on a door.Kind of made a male believe in the divine. It really did.

Some things are destined to be -- it just takes us a couple of triesto get there.

He had been aware of the distance traveled by his heart, similar to the way a hiker became lost in the wilderness. A half mile out and you could still see where you had started, could easily find the way back home. But ten miles and a number of forks in your trail later and there was no going back. At that point, you had no choice but to marshal the resources to build yourself a shelter and put down fresh roots.

Wrath: look at how their folklore portrays our species. There's Dracula for Christ's sake, an evil bloodsucker who preys on the defenseless. There's piss-poor B movies and porn. And don't get me started on the whole Halloween thing. Plastic fangs. Black capes. The only thing the idiots got right are that we drink blood and that we can't go out in daylight. The rest is bullshit, fabricated to alienate us and stimulate fear in the masses. Or just as offensive, the fiction used to create some kind of mystique for bored humans who think the dark side is a fun place to visit.

What’s next? The size of my cock?” “Hey, even pencils can get the job done—I’ve heard the moaning from your room to prove it.

After a moment, Wrath turned to John. "This is Lassiter, the fallen angel. One of the last times he was here on earth, there was a plague in central Europe-""Okay, that was so not my fault-""-which wiped out two-thirds of the human population.""I'd like to remind you that you don't like humans.""They smell bad when they're dead.""All you mortal types do.

Are you holding her?” Wrath asked. There was a pause. “As soon as I get this bow tied in the back—hold on, girlie. Okay, up you go. She’s in a pink dress that Cormia made her by hand. I hate pink. I like it on her, though—but keep that to yourself.” Wrath flexed his hands. “What’s it like?” “Not totally hating pink? Pretty fuck—ehrm, frickin’ emasculating.” “Yeah.” “Do not tell me Lassiter’s been metrosexualizing even you. I heard he talked Manello into going for a pedicure with him—but I’m praying that’s just gossip.”-Wrath & Zsadist

He cleared his throat and reminded himself that if you pissed Her Holiness off, they'd need barbecue tongs to pick up your steaming pieces.

What is your name?" she murmured.He cocked an eyebrow at her and then went back to staring at his brother. "I'm the evil one, in case you haven't figured it out.""I wanted your name, not your calling.""Being a bastard's more of a compulsion, really. And it's Zsadist. I am Zsadist.

Destiny was a machine built over time, each choice that you made in life adding another gear, another conveyor belt, another assemblyman. Where you ended up was the product that was spit out at the end—and there was no going back for a redo. You couldn‟t take a peek at what you‟d manufactured and decide, Oh, wait, I wanted to make sewing machines instead of machine guns; let me go back to the beginning and start again. One shot. That was all you got.

Life. In all it's mundane majesty.

Mary.” Turning at the soft sound of her name, she glanced behind herself. Then frowned. “Lassiter?” “I’m over here.” “Where?” She looked all around. “Why is your voice echoing?” “Chimney.” “What?” “I’m stuck in the fucking chimney.” She raced over to the fireplace and got on her hands and knees. Looking up into the dark flue, she shook her head. “Lass? What the hell are you doing up there?” His voice emanated from somewhere above her. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?” “What are you—” An arm came down. A very sooty arm that was encased in a red sleeve that had white trim. Or what had been white trim and which was now smudged with ash. “You’re stuck!” she exclaimed. “And thank God no one lit this fire!” “You’re telling me,” he muttered in his disembodied voice. “I had to blow out Fritz’s match like a hundred times before he gave up. Fuck, that sounds dirty. Anyway, just remind me never to try to be Santa for your kid, okay? I’m not doing this again, even for her.” Mary stretched a little farther in, but the logs on the hearth stopped her. “Lassiter. Why can’t you free yourself by dematerializing—” “I’m impaled on a hook that’s iron. I can’t go ghost. And will you just take this?” “Wha

Terrific. A bisexual dominant vampire with kidnapping expertise.

There aren't any syringes." Red Sox came over and held a sterile pack out. When she tried to take it from him, he kept a grip on the thing. "I know you'll use this wisely.""Wisely?" She snapped the syringe out of his hand. "No, I'm going to poke him in the eye with it. Because that's what they trained me to do in medical school.

You could lose the ones you loved in the blink of an eye—and he was willing to bet, when it happened, you weren’t thinking about all the reasons that could have kept you apart. You thought of all the reasons that kept you together. And, no doubt, how you wished you’d had more time. Even if you’d had centuries… When you were young, you thought time was a burden, something to be discharged as fast as possible so you could be grown-up. But it was such a bait-n-switch—when you were an adult, you came to realize that minutes and hours were the single most precious thing you had. No one got forever. And it was a fucking crime to waste what you were given.

Rhage exhaled slowly, air easing out of his nose. As he sank into his skin, he reveled in the perfection of peace. The heavenly silence. The great roaring absence.

Someone put opera on inside the house. Someone changed it to hip-hop, thank God. Someone started a shower. Someone vacuumed. Again.Life. In all its mundane majesty.And you couldn't take advantage of it if you were sitting on your ass in the shadows... whether it was in actuality, or metaphorically because you were trapped in an attic's darkness.

That's you," Wrath said. You shall be called the Black Dagger warrior Dhestroyer, descended of Wrath son of Wrath.""But you'll always be Butch to us," Rhage cut in. "As well as hard-ass. Smart-ass. Royal pain in the ass. You know, whatever the situation calls for. I think as long as there's an ASS in there, it'll be accurate.""How about bASStard?" Z suggested."Nice. I feel that.

God, now she knew what decent men felt like, the disquiet before taking someone for their first time.

You've won the evolutionary lottery: You're a vampire. Let's go to Disneyland!

and Billy rolled in. “Thought you might like some wake-up.” Bingo,

Sometimes the only thing that got you through hell was that you were in too deep to pull out.-Ehlena's thoughts

His thumb went back and forth over the satin, as if he were rubbing her hip as he had when they’d been together, and he moved his leg over so that it was on top of the skirting.It wasn’t the same, though. There was no body underneath, and the fabric smelled like lemons, not her skin. And he was, after all, alone in this room that was not theirs.“God, I miss you,” he said in a voice that cracked. “Every night. Every day…

Michael Rafferty was a goodman. A solid man. He was never going to be Hugh Jackman handsome or Bill Gates rich or King of England powerful. But he was hers and he was Sean's and that was more than enough

And why had those prayers been focused heavenward? Well, it kind of made sense, didn't it? Even when there were no more options for the body, the heart's wishes find a way out, and as with all warmth, love rises. Besides, the will to fly was in the nature of the soul, so its home had to be up above.

I'm sorry," he muttered. "If I... uh, hurt your feelings or something." She glared at him. "I'm not hurt. I'm pissed off and sexually frustrated." His head snapped back on his spine. Well... then. Okaaaaay.

Wrath: What the hell are you supposed to ask?Rhage: I know! Who do you like the most? It's me right?Come on, you know it is. Come oooooonnnnn-Butch: If its you,, I'll kill myself.V: No, that just means she's blind.Rhage: It has to be me.V: She said she didn't like you at first.Rhage: Ah, but I won her over, which is more than anyone else can say about you, hot stuff.J.R.: I don't like anyone the bestWrath: Right answer.Rhage: She's just sparing all of you feelings. (grins, becoming impossibly handsome) She's so polite.J.R.: Next question?Rhage: Why do you like me the best?

Life is such a glorious trauma, is it not?

The place is also big enough. We could all live there without killing each other." -Rhage"That depends more on your mouth than any floorplan." -Phury

The hardest thing is being with other people - it's like they're on a different wavelenght, but only you know it. They talk about their lives and what's wrong with them, and you kind of, like, just let them go. It's a whole different language, and you've got to remember that you can only respond in their mother tongue. It's really hard to relate.

One thing, though," Qhuinn murmured."What?"The voice that came out his throat was unlike anything he'd ever heard from himself before. "If any guy breaks your heart or treats you like shit, I will bust him apart with my bare hands and leave his broken, bloody body for the sun."Blay's laughter rumbled around the tiled walls. "Of course you will--""I'm dead fucking serious."Blay's blue eyes shot over his shoulder."If there are any who dare to hurt you," Qhuinn growled in the Old Language, "I shall see them staked afore me and shall leave their bodies in ruin.

The necklace was a good excuse," he murmured."For what?""I thought maybe I could go to Charleston and show up at your front door to give this back and maybe… you might let me in. Or something. I was worried that another male would court you, so I've been trying to go as fast as I could. I mean, I figured maybe if I could read, and if I took a little better care of myself, and if I tried to stop being such a mean-ass motherfucker…" He shook his head. "But don't misunderstand. It's not like I expected you to be happy to see me. I was just… you know, hoping… coffee. Tea. Chance to talk. Or some shit. Friends, maybe. Except if you had a male, he wouldn't allow that. So, yeah, that's why I've been hurrying."His yellow eyes lifted to hers. He was wincing, as if he were afraid of what might be showing on her face."Friends?" she said."Yeah… I mean, I wouldn't disgrace you by asking for more than that. I know that you regret… Anyway, I just couldn't let you go without… Yeah, so… friends.

I ejaculated about ten minutes ago and the stuff was black. So everything is not normal."Silence greeted that happy little announcement. Man, if he had hauled off and sucker-punched V, he would have gotten less of a shocked-out reaction.

Butch tightened his grip on his cell and wished there were an app that let you reach through a phone and bitch slap someone.

Well, wasn't this a night for firsts. Sex. Arson. Pants.

From out of nowhere, Phury felt an overwhelming tide of guilt, like someone had popped the lid off allhis deepest concerns and his fears for the future of the race. He had to respond to it, couldn't bear thepressure. Riding the wave, he found himself saying in a rush, "We live and die for our kind. The species is our firstand only concern. We fight every night and count the jars of thelessers we kill. Stealth is the way weprotect the civilians. The less they know about us, the safer they are. That is why we disappeared.

You would have made a fine warrior, you know that?"I am one. Death is my enemy."Yeah, it is, isn't it." God, it made such sense that he'd bonded with her. She was a fighter… like him. "Your scalpel's your dagger."Yup.

She silenced him with her mouth, then pulled back. "You can't change what I think of you."He reached up and brushed her lower lip with his thumb."If you truly knew me, everything you believe would change.""Your heart would be the same. And that is what I love.

I would do anything for you. Anything."With that, he pushed his way out...and as the door eased shut, she realized that I love you could indeed be said without actually uttering the phrase.Actions did mean more than words.

You're such a pain in the ass. (Butch) Said the SIG to the Glock. (V)

Among the problems with shame was that it in fact did not make you shorter or quieter or less visible. You just felt like you were.

And mortal terror in a female was Z's favorite turn-on. He got off on it like most males favored crap from Victoria's Secret.

-BDB on the board-Knitter's AnonimousMay 8, 2006Rhage (in his bedroom posting in V's room on the board)Hi, my name is V.("Hi, V")I've been knitting for 125 years now.(*gasping noises*)It's begun to impact my personal relationships: my brothers think I'm a nancy. It's begun to affect my health: I'm getting a callus on my forefinger and I find bits of yarn in all my pockets and I'm starting to smell like wool. I can't concentrate at work: I keep picturing all these lessers in Irish sweaters and thick socks.(*sounds of sympathy*)I've come seeking a community of people who, like me, are trying not to knit. Can you help me?(*We're with you*)Thank you (*takes out hand-knitted hankie in pink*)(*sniffles*)("We embrace you, V")Vishous (in the pit): Oh hell no...you did not just put that up. And nice spelling in the title. Man...you just have to roll up on me, don't you. I got four words for you, my brother.Rhage: Four words? Okay...lemme see... Rhage, you're so sexy.hmmm....Rhage, you're SO smart. No wait! Rhage, you're SO right! That's it, isn't it...g'head. You can tell me. Vishous: First one starts with a "P"Use your head for the other three. Bastard.Rhage: P? Hmm... Please pass the yarnVishous: Payback is a bitch!Rhage: OhhhhhhhhhhhhI'm so scuuuuuurred. Can you whip me up a blanket to hide under?