I stared down into her eyes, my voice barely a whisper. "If I stay here any longer, I'm not going to be able to stop myself from kissing you.

You’re not in this alone anymore. I’m not going anywhere, and if you’ll let me, I’ve got broad shoulders for you to lean on whenever you need me.

You've got an empire to run, I'm just your arm candy.

This zipper only comes down for you.

I'd kiss you if I could, " I whispered. Jared's breath caressed my skin. "I have other shirts." I smiled and kissed him.

It's about your mom." "She's not mad at your again, is she?" "No." I set the drill aside. ""In fact, I wanted to ask you for your permission to court your mom." "You're taking her to court?

I'm a pretty patient guy when it's something worth waiting for.

She stepped back, staring up into my eyes. “You’ve given me hope.” She ran her hand up my chest. “I don’t know how to thank you for that.”I grinned. “You can start by taking my calls.

A shard of glass cut my belly as I slid into the battered SUV, but I managed to keep the family jewels intact. I’d be counting every small victory tonight.

My pulse pounded in my ears, heat smoldering deep in my belly. I’d never been so tempted. “This is a dangerous game.

Jason's fingers itched to draw his sword. He'd met plenty of scary demigods, but he was starting to realize that Nico di Angelo--as pale and gaunt as he looked--might be more than he could handle.

My apartment reflects my views as an architect. It is minimal, austere. The architecture doesn't impose itself upon you. The apartment is a stage for other things to take place.

If you are walking with Jesus, in the Spirit, you need not fear going too far. No believer has gone as far as God wants him to go

Do I have a small movie in me? Yeah, probably, when I'm 60. But I'm not Hal Ashby, I'm not Roman Polanski. I'm true to myself. Whether you like it or not.

I think that every film should have its own structure, and that's the beauty of film language - is that we get to express that deeply individualistic side of ourselves.

I don’t think I would ever have been able to be an actress had I not started at nine years old. I would have been the last person to stand up and say, ‘I’d like to star in the play.’

All that (Mr. Bush) wants is Iraqi oil.

I hated Sundays when I was growing up in Streatham, south London. Everything closed down and stopped.

In a letter to a friend the thought is often unimportant, and the feeling, if it be only a desire to entertain him, every thing.