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Christ, don't you ever knock? It's Lassiter. L-A-S-S-I-T-E-R. How is it possible you're still getting me confused with someone else? Do I need a nametag?

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
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More quotes by J.R. Ward

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That's the problem with white horses. You have to pay for them yourself or you'll always be using someone else's reins.
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Word of advice. These have a kick, so don’t suck too hard—” Holy hypoxia, Batman.
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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.
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May I take your vein for a moment? I find myself... curiously depleted Okay, right. Talk about your Johnny-on-the-spots: He locked them in and all but tore off his arm and threw it at her.
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Good? No, that didn't go far enough. She'd made him feel… alive. Awakened.
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Perfect date material, she thought. A vampire with the social equivalent of road rage. ---Beth about Wrath
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She is more beautiful than I have words for. And last night, I was blessed beyond measure to serve her.
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God, I miss you, he said in a voice that cracked. Every night. Every day.
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After a moment the king said, So be it. Zsadist cursed. Butch whistled low. Rhage bit into a Tootsie Pop.
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Falling into ruin was a bit like falling in love: Both descents stripped you bare and left you as you were at your core. And both endings are equally painful.
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You don't know this yet. But you are Mine - Wrath
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Man, you cannot be real, the human said softly. Why not? You just can't. She laughed a little. Well, I am. He cleared his throat again. Offered her a lopsided grin. Mind if I ask you to prove it? How? Can I touch your hair?
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The Destroyer has arrived and you are he.
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Those eerie diamond eyes shifted over to her and she stilled, as if he's willed her to do so. There was a moment of silence. And then in a rough voice the man whose life she saved spoke four words that changed everything...changed her life, changed her destiny: She. Comes. With. Me.
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You are in a prison with no bars. I worry about you.
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Don't make me flip you off Why would I deprive you of a favourite hobby? Because my finger's getting sore.
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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.
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United by their clasped hands, they became again the two halves, the light and the dark. The Destroyer and the Savior. A whole.
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