Tammara Webber Quotes - Page 5

Really, he could have just punched me in the stomach, because my brain refused to comprehend the words he was saying. A physical assault, it might have understood.

Minus my relationship with Kennedy, I had no automatic invitation to Greek Parties or events, though Chaz and Erin could invite me to some stuff since I fell under the heading of acceptable things to bring to any party: alcohol and girls. Awesome. I'd gone from independent girlfriend to party paraphernalia.

He stuck the pencil over his ear, looking unconvinced. "Mmm. What position would you be the most comfortable for you?" I couldn't say aloud the answers that popped into my head at that question, but the flush that spread across my face like wildfire gave me away. He caught his lower lip in his teeth, and I was sure it was to contain a laugh. Most comfortable position? What about with my head stuck under a pillow?

I'm going to arrange you, if that's okay?" I swallowed. "Uh... sure." My hands were clutched to my ribcage, my shoulders hunched almost to my ears. What, this isn't how you want me positioned?

If someone had asked, How does this compare to kissing Kennedy? I would have answered, "Who?"

Too much quiet left me depressed and consuming condiments for meals.

Ugh! Erin. You have a one-track mind." She smiled deviously. "I prefer to think of it as target-driven.

I'm gonna make that asshole gnaw his own hand off that night, dammit.

Erin and I spent four hours shopping for dresses and shoes Tuesday night. She was going all out in her intention to make Chaz regret any decision he'd made that didn't include worshipping at her feet.

We talked--recent history only--and Lucas relayed the story of how Francis came to be his roommate. "He showed up at the door one night, demanding to be let in. Napped on the sofa for an hour, then demanded to be let out. It turned into a nightly ritual, with him staying longer and longer, until at some point I realized he'd moved in. He's basically the most brazen squatter ever.

I've been known to slum it and shop in the gag-him-and-bag-him aisles, believe it or not.

"You're full of contradictions, Ms. Wallace." I looked up at him and arched a brow. "I'm a girl. That's part of the job description, Mr. Maxfield."

I don't know why it's so hard for me to say those three words. Most guys throw it around like breath, like bait.

And then she told me she didn’t want someone who needed her in order to be a better guy. She wanted someone who was better by himself, with or without her.

I suppose love is never a sure thing, no matter what words are spoken. Love requires a leap of faith into the abyss, every time.

Something about first love defies duplication. Before it, your heart is blank. Unwritten. After, the walls are left inscribed and graffitied. When it ends, no amount of scrubbing will purge the scrawled oaths and sketched images, but sooner or later, you find that there’s space for someone else, between the words and in the margins.

That macho protective bullshit is just some asshat man pissing on his territory so the other dogs will stay away.

I was so afraid of wanting too much that I couldn't trust her handing me a shot at getting it. I don't want to be that senselessly fearful ever again.

It isn't fair how I doubt him, and I wonder if he'll ever gather that my loss of faith extends further than I'd ever known it would, severing lines of trust and leveling my confidence like a city-flattening tornado.

I thought I dreamed you." The words whisper from my parched throat. His head tilts to one side, his mouth shifting to something less sarcastic, more amused. "That may be the most enchanting thing I've ever been told after spending the night with a girl.

Oh No! My wings are effed up!

Sorry, boyfriends everywhere—you’re doomed to sit through an hour and forty-seven minutes of syrupy drivel. The payoff? Between my face, Tadd’s abs and Quinton’s biceps, your girl will be ready for takeoff as soon as the credits roll. You’re welcome.

How could I not love you? No one has ever affected me like you do. When you told me goodbye last month, I tried to let you go. I told myself it was the best thing for you because you wanted it. But you’re wrong, Dori. I’m good for you even if you don’t know it yet. I know because I’ve never been good for anyone before.

She's the ulimate heroine, strong-willed and independent, intelligent, loyal, but at the same time, she's not flawless, she's not above mistakes, or falling in love.

She's like a wind-up monkey that winds itself.