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Chaos and love when hand in hand and oh, the glorious grace of the world because of it.

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
Chaos
Grace
Hand
Hands
Love
World
Glorious

More quotes by J.R. Ward

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The weight of the dead was heavier than the pounds of the body.
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I feel as though I am shelved. That I have been given the words to the story of my life, but that I have remained largely unread.
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This place is just too frickin precious, the cop said, eyeing a guy dressed in a hot pink leisure suit with makeup to match. Give me rednecks and home-grown beer any day of the week over this X-culture bullshit.
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If you're going to insist on being reasonable, I'm going to stop hanging with you.
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you told me I could beat him. You promised.
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There was a heavy, dark pause of vast significance. Which Jim broke by flashing his hands and belting out, “Booga-wooga!” At least Eddie laughed. Adrian flipped Jim the bird and headed to the fridge for another beer.
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Some things are destined to be -- it just takes us a couple of tries to get there.
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Phury nodded. And if she lives with us, we get to keep the cat.
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You never realized how thick your fog was until it lifted.
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When he nodded, the physician disappeared into thin air, and then a moment later, Payne felt a warm palm encompass hers. It was Vishous's un-gloved hand against her own and the connection between them eased her in ways she couldn't name. Verily, she had lost her mother . . . but if she lived through this, she still had family. On this side.
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Are you wet for me, Mary? I think you are. I think you're covered with honey.
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As much as we have free choice, absolute destiny is immutable. What is meant to happen does, through one measure or another.
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Gallows humor is part of having a doctor in the house. Deal with it.
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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.
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His cheeks were slick with tears that spilled over his diamond eyes, a ceaseless flow he neither noticed nor appeared to care about. And she had a feeling it was going to be a while before the leaking stopped-an inner artery had been nicked and this was the blood of his heart, spilling out of him, covering him.
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When I lie this close to you, when I smell your scent, when I hear your voice, I know everything that matters. She looked down the length of him. You are the male I want to mate with. That's who you are.
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I love you. And I'm going to keep loving you even after you don't know I exist.
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You are so beautiful, he mouthed. But of course she couldn’t see his lips. Guess he was going to have to show her.
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In the far corner, a tenor began to sing, Zsadist's crystal-clear voice sailing up toward the warrior paintings on the ceiling far, far above them all. At first John didn't know what the song was...although if he'd been asked what his name was, he would have said Santa Claus, or Luther Vandross, or Teddy Roosevelt. Maybe even Joan Collins.
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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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