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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
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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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With his fantastic mane of multicoloured hair, Phury should have been in Hollywood's league with the ladies, but he'd stuck with his vow of celibacy. There was room for one and only one love in his life, and it had been slowly killing him for years.
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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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...Bringing the very heavens close enough to touch. It was Zsadist. His eyes closed, his head back, his mouth wide open, he sang. The scarred one, the souless one, had the voice of an angel.
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Nothing that passes between us will ever be wrong. Come back to me.
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And love … love was worth dying for. Worth living for, too.
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Vishous, could you stop grinning like that? You're beginning to freak me out.
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Pull up your big girl panties and just do it.
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The look in Manny´s eye was the ocular equivalent of a middle finger.
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Sometimes your whole life could hinge on a fraction of an inch. Or the beat of a nanosecond. Or the knock on a door.
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To his mind, free will was a privilege, not a right.
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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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In an earlier life, were you a pair of brakes? Try a brick wall.
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So will you meet me?” “Yeah. Sure. Where.” “Montrag’s safe house in Connecticut. If you were the one who killed him, you know the address.
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Without time,” the angel said, “you have only the bottomless, shapeless mire of eternity.” “FYI, philosophy bores me.” “Not philosophy. Reality. Time is what gives life significance.
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If I can live through the events,” she said, “I can get through the memories.
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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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Love’em or hate’em, by blood or by heart, family was a kind of oxygen. Necessary for the living.
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It was the wife, John thought. And she was giving this tough guy a tongue-lashing. And the man was taking it. Okay. I love you. Bye. Tohrment flipped the phone closed and put it in his pocket. When he focused on John again, he clearly respected his wife enough not to roll his eyes and make some macho, shithead comment about pesky women.
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