No subscription or hidden extras
Read through the most famous quotes by topic #lena
Everything has taken on a strange, distant quality - the sounds of running and shouting outside get warped and weird like they're being filtered through water, and Alex looks miles away. I start to think I might be dreaming, or about to pass out. And then I decide I'm definitely dreaming, because as I'm watching, Alex starts peeling his shirt off over his head. ↗
As I recall, I was still dressed when I fell asleep." "Just making sure you were comfortable." "And making yourself equally comfortable, I see. ↗
Because I think you're right. You can make a difference." He told me experiences were kind of like fate, and fate usually came in the form of a test. He told me fate liked to be worshiped. It liked to see us fall on out knees before it offered to help us up..." ♥ ↗
She was still looking down and she saw tears spill from her eyes and fall toward Damon’s outstretched arms. Elena didn’t know why she was crying, but part of it was sorrow for her ever having doubted him. Because Damon wasn’t just on her side. Unless she was wrong, he was willing to die for her - was courting death for her. ↗
A tick of amusement flashed in Tomas’ eyes. “I can see you are not quite comfortable with leaving your quarters just yet, so may I order you some food?” Helena lifted her chin. She was determined to bury her fear, and that included her wobbly knees that seemed to recognize she was talking to a lion who, under normal circumstances, viewed her as a tasty gazelle. “Sausage Pizza and…Dr. Pepper.” Tomas stared for several moments, fear filling his eyes. “I am certain we can find you a pizza, but I was not aware you are ill and require a doctor. Niccolo will have my head.” This was going to be a very, very long day. ↗
I put you through hell and then I only made it worse, all the mistakes I made trying to get you back.' 'I've forgiven you.' 'Forgive, yes. Understand, yes. Forget, no. ↗
Run,” he whispered. “Run.” “No, Rand,” I said, brushing the dirt from his face. “I’m tired of running.” “Forgive me, please.” He clutched my hand as his eyes beseeched me through tears of pain. “You’re forgiven.” He sighed once, then stopped breathing. The shine in his brown eyes dulled. I pulled his hood over his head. ↗
He has left nothing except for a note, which I find neatly folded under one of my sneakers. The Story of Solomon is the only way I know how to explain. And then, in smaller letters: Forgive me. ↗
