J.A. Redmerski Quotes - Page 3

When we pull away, he rests his hand on my thigh pressed next to his and we ride like that for a long time; the only time he moves his hand is to take better control of a sharp curve or to adjust the music, but he always puts it right back. And I always want him to.

I don’t want to sleep alone,” she says gently. And I don’t force her to. Sarai falls fast asleep curled up next to me in my bed. Right where I want her.

You were the missing piece of my soul, the breath in my lungs, and the blood in my veins.

Parents have this twisted belief that anyone under the age of about twenty simply can’t know what love is, like the age to love is assessed in the same way the law assesses the legal age to drink. They think that the ‘emotional growth’ of a teenager’s mind is too underdeveloped to understand love, to know if it’s ‘real’ or not.

It's the people y'gotta watch out for. You never know who y'might meet, or what Ol' Man Fate has in store for yah.

Laugh, I Nearly Died," Andrew answers. "You've probably never heard that one before.

Truthfully, he lives right next to the Sexy Tree and I think that's the only thing that bothers me about this whole situation.

I could die in this bed with him right now, wrapped in his arms and I would never know that I had died.

He never leaves my side. And I know he never will.

I believe there’s someone out there for everyone,” he {Isaac} says, “and when you meet that person, sometimes you know right away they are who you were meant to be with. And sometimes, years can go by before you let yourself believe that the feeling you’ve had about a person for so long, is actually love. And what a waste that is.

Well, I suppose he’s stuck with you forever then.” “Yes, and forever is a very long time.” He pauses and then says, “Well, for the record, something tells me he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Promise me that if I ever get Alzheimer’s or dementia, and I don’t remember anyone that you’ll visit me every day and read to me like Noah read to Allie.

I tried to will them with my super mental powers so he’d put them around my waist, but apparently I had no super mental powers.

Our story is over, yes, but our journey isn't, because we'll always live on the edge until the day we die.

Because this is our life. We met on the road; we grew to know and to love each other on the road. It's where we were meant to be for however long, and it's what we're going to do until it becomes clear that we're meant to do something else.

To love someone so deeply means also that it will hurt a thousand times more when he disappoints or leaves you

I think it was the one thing I didn’t like about him or about guys in general: when a girl says she doesn’t want to talk about it, the truth is that she usually does. I wanted him to pry it out of me. Of course, I would’ve pretended to be a little angry that he didn’t just leave me alone, but eventually I would’ve told him, when I was tired of pretending.

You’re sleeping with an assassin, running for your life every single day from men who want to kill you and you’re convinced you’re going to die of discomfort.

I love the smell of Waffle House; it's the smell of freedom, being on the open road and knowing that ninety percent of the people eating around you are also on that road. Truck driver's, road-trippers, hangovers--those who don't live that monotonous life of society slavery.

Coincidence is just a safe conformist for fate.

I don't know myself. I don't know what I want or how I feel or how I should feeland I don't think I ever really have.

But as I stood there dressed in a cute black pants suit and white button-up shirt and heels, I felt completely out of place. Not necessarily because of the clothes, but…I just don’t belong there. I can’t put my finger on it, but that Monday and the rest of that week when I woke up, got dressed and walked into that store, something was itching the back part of my consciousness. I couldn’t hear the actual words, but it felt like: This is your life, Camryn Bennett. This is your life.

I loved Ian in the now, the way he looked at me, how he made my stomach swim, how he held my hair when I was puking my guts up after eating a bad enchilada. That’s love.

What compels any of us to do the things we do when deep down a part of us just wants to break free from it all?

To lovers and dreamers and anyone who hasn’t truly experienced either.