Quote

And besides . . . I don’t want to leave you. Er, you guys.” He smiled, and it lit up his whole face. “Well, ‘we’ are certainly happy to hear that. Oh, and I’m also happy to watch our darling little love child dragon while you’re in St. Louis.” I grinned back.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 47
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Wells
Guy
Besides
Well
Face
Guys
Grinned
Faces
Certainly
Dragon
Whole
Happy
Watches
Louis
Children
Also
Watch
Lit
Love
Littles
Leave
Smiled
Back
Hear
Darling
Little
Child
Dragons

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What do you mean it wasn't anything? Didn't the earth move or the planets align or something? -Rose to Lissa on sleeping with Aaron
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When you've got everything you need, why complicate it?
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It doesn't matter. Take Eddie's blood. Take Belikov's blood. Take your own for all I care. But If she doesn't want to give hers, then that's all there is to it. She said no. This conversation is done.
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I shook my head and turned away, unable to hear this. “I’m leaving now. I really don’t want to see you again. Nothing personal. Well, yeah, actually it is.
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I don’t belong to anyone. I make my own choices. And you’re with Adrian, said Dimitri. But I was meant for you.
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How is Angeline?” asked Dimitri. “Is she improving?” Eddie and I exchanged glances. So much for avoiding her indiscretions. “Improving how exactly?” I asked. “In combat, in following the dress code, or in keeping her hands to herself?” “Or in turning off caps-lock?” added Eddie. “You noticed that too?” I asked. “Hard not to,” he said.
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What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someone's jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?
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Fortunately for Dimitri, I had his back.
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Life’s like that. As we grow and change, some things we’ve experience before take on new meaning. It’ll happen for the rest of your life.
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I’m sorry ma’am,” I said. Really, I had no idea what else to say. I’d spent the weekend caught up in an epic battle to save humanity, and now… jean shorts?
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I'm sorry. Be sorry you lied, he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Don't be sorry you loved him. That's part of you, part you have to let go, yeah, but still something that's made you who you are.
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Sydney, this is the kind of shirt that says, ‘You’re never getting in here.
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For a moment, I was captivated as I studied them side by side. My mother: the perfect picture of guardian excellence and decorum. My father: always capable of achieving his goals, no matter how twisted the means. Uneasily, I began to understand how I’d inherited my bizarre personality.
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