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Another one from the immortals and again i cant remember what book. Haven to Ever In every relationship there is always someone who loves more, my point is no matter how it looks from the outside the truth is, its never really equal, that's just not the way it works,there is always the pursued and the pursuer, the cat and the mouse.

Alyson Noel

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Alyson Noel
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There are only two emotions. Love and fear.... Love and fear is all there is == Everything else is just an offshoot motivated by those two.
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We don't always get the journey we want. But we always get the journey we need.
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I'm after something far more esoteric than a virginal shag. Though, if you'd like, darlin', I'm certainly up for the task.
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Haven's warm, clammy palms press hard against my cheeks as the tarnished edge of her silver skull ring leaves a smudge on my skin.
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Everything passes. Everything experiences the birth and death cycle.
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The two of us warmed by a bold beam of light that wicks the moisture from my dress, my hair, and my skin—returning it to the sky where it promises to find me again in the form of dew, snow, or rain.
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The soul is the immortal part of us. It recycles, over and over again from what I've seen, but it never dies. We're meant to strive beyond the physical world, not... not settle for it and only it.
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Hating requires caring. In which case, I couldn't possibly hate you.
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But I've strayed so far from normal now, I'll never find my way back. And the truth is, I no longer want to.
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The weird thing about saying good-bye is that it never gets easier.
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What if it can't be worked out? What if I'm—what if I'm broken for good?
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Four hundred years of losing out on the girl of my dreams isn't sitting very well with me these days.
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And just as I start to move past him, my hip accidentally rubs against his, and his face is so close, and his eyes so deep, that I can't help but lift my fingers to his smooth, sculptured cheek. Then without even thinking, I close my eyes, lean in, and kiss him.
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There is an old and very wise Native American saying: Every time you point a finger in scorn—there are three remaining fingers pointing right back at you.
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What is going on with you? she says, shaking her head and pushing me away. What's up with all the love and affection? I mean, you of all people, you of the eternal iPod-hoodie combo.
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Though I have to admit, I had a good laugh when I realized you thought I was a bloodsucker. He smiles. Oh, well excuse me. I mean since there are immortals running around, I figure we may as well bring on the faeries, wizards, werewolves, and— I shake my head. I mean jeez, you talk about all this like it's normal!
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No: What the heck happened? Or: Why did you go from nearly kissing me to tossing me across your yard and into the patio furniture?
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So it's a yes, then? To blue-corn pancakes or being your girlfriend?
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I guess by now I should know enough about loss to realize that you never really stop missing someone-you just learn to live around the huge gaping hole of their absence.
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Remember when you picked me up like a frisbee and tossed me across you yard?
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