“I know I’m doing something wrong and I feel guilty but neither of those things matter enough to make me stop”

I don’t just love her, she owns me. Completely. I’d do anything for her

You feel real good, Lana. Makes me forget everything else

He pressed a kiss to my ear. “Do you feel stretched? Can you tell I’ve been inside you?” I nodded, feeling my knees go a little weak from the tone in his voice. “Good. I like knowing you can feel where I’ve been.

When you find your reason for living, hold onto it. Never let it go. Even if it means burning other bridges along the way.

I never stood a chance. He stole your heart first.

He seems like a man who knows what he wants, and the problem is he wants what I want.

Identifying pain in others was easy for me. I was drawn to it in some strange perverse way.

This was why I loved my Grana. Being with her always made me laugh. She accepted life for what it was. She didn’t pretend or put on airs. She was just Grana.

I dropped my phone on the floor and let the pain assail me. I’d given my heart away to someone who didn’t want it. Even knowing that, I didn’t regret it. I just wanted him to want me. I just wanted him to love me too.

She frowned.”You’re not very friendly.” I let out a short laugh.”What?I’m not friendly to a ghost who floats into my house and starts touching me?Well,excuse my rudeness but this is a little disturbing.

The love she left behind will be the reason dreams are reached. She was the rock in a world that was crumbling. Her strength will remain. It’s in our hearts.

That’s okay. You an be selfish with me all you want. I’m yours.

The heart wants who the heart wants. We can’t help that.

Adjusting to Beau being a caveman over a girl had been almost as hard as seeing him with Ash. Beau didn’t do jealous, not until Ashton had become his. Now he was a freaking lunatic.

Just maybe I was worthy of love.

What are you doing?” “I’m going to enjoy a long overdue make-out session with my girl. That’s what I’m doing.” I explained, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me with one shove of my foot.

A lot of musicians talk about how they were into music from the start; they always wanted to be musicians. It wasn’t like that for me. I didn’t think of it as a job or a career – it was just something that was constant.

The woman spread her legs, and made me look between them. All I could see was something that looked like a dyin’ orchid; consequently, I have never been comfortable around women or orchids.

There’s a bunch of stuff I want to learn. Instead of waiting around on set all day, I’d rather be learning something cool.

We are more than just flesh and bones. There’s a certain spiritual nature and something of the mind that we can’t measure. We can’t find it. With all our sophisticated equipment, we cannot monitor or define it, and yet it’s there.

There’s this myth that women are supposed to compete with each other or something, or we’re supposed to hate each other, and that’s totally not productive.

To a true-blue professor of literature in an American university, literature is not something that a plain human being, living today, painfully sits down to produce. No; it is something dead.

There’s something tangible about the essence of the city. You can taste and smell it.

I have to realise that as I am only English and am allowed to live in America, I have to give something in return. And since I cannot build a hospital, or endow a university, I can only give my infinite availability.