#pat

Patience is power. Patience is not an absence of action; rather it is "timing" it waits on the right time to act, for the right principles and in the right way. ↗

— Fulton J. Sheen

#power #timing #waiting #acting

If I didn't care for fun and such, I'd probably amount to much. But I shall stay the way I am, Because I do not give a damn. ↗

— Dorothy Parker

#fame #pleasure #fun

He ran his finger along my jawline and down my neck. "The wait will be fun, but it's not going to be easy. ↗

— Amy Plum

#die-for-me #lust #vincent #fun

You're mine, Angel," he murmured, brushing the words across my jawbone as I arched my neck higher, inviting him to kiss everywhere. "You have me forever. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#fidelity #patch-cipriano #words

I watched him pitch the ball at a table neatly lined with six bowling pins, my stomach giving a little flutter when his T-shirt crept up in the back, revealing a stripe of skin. I knew from experience that every inch of him was hard, defined muscle. His back was smooth and perfect too, the scars from when he’d fallen once again replaced with wings—wings I, and every other human, couldn’t see. “Five dollars says you can’t do it again,” I said, coming up behind him. Patch looked back and grinned. “I don’t want your money, Angel.” “Hey now, kids, let’s keep this discussion PG-rated,” Rixon said. “All three remaining pins,” I challenged Patch. “What kind of prize are we talking about?” he asked. “Bloody hell,” Rixon said. “Can’t this wait until you’re alone?” Patch gave me a secret smile, then shifted his weight back, cradling the ball into his chest. He dropped his right shoulder, brought his arm around, and sent the ball flying forward as hard as he could. There was a loud crack! and the remaining three pins scattered off the table. “Aye, now you’re in trouble, lass,” Rixon shouted at me over the commotion caused by a pocket of onlookers, who were clapping and whistling for Patch. Patch leaned back against the booth and arched his eyebrows at me. The gesture said it all: Pay up. “You got lucky,” I said. “I’m about to get lucky. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#hush-hush #nora #patch #rixon #experience

If I'd wanted you dead five minutes ago, you'd have died five minutes ago. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#archangel #becca-fitzpatrick #fallen-angel #hush-hush #patch

Hate, it has caused a lot of problems in the world, but has not solved one yet. ↗

— Maya Angelou

#hatred #problems

Then I place the blade next to the skine on my palm. A tingle arced across my scalp. The flood tipped up at me and my body spiraled away. Then I was on the ceiling looking down, waiting to see what would happen next. What happened next was thet a perfect, straight line of blood bloomed from under the blade.The line grow into a long, Fat bubbel, A lush crimson bubbel that got bigger and bigger. I watch from above, waiting to see how big it would get before it burst. when it did, I felt awesome. Satisfied, finally. Then exhausted. ↗

— Patricia McCormick

#patricia-mccormick #awesome

If you can't feel, why did you kiss me?" Patch traced a finger along my collarbone, then headed south stopping at my heart. I felt it pounding through my skin. "Because I feel it here, in my heart," he said quietly. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#hush-hush #nora #patch #heart

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived. ↗

— Margaret Mitchell

#best #broken #fragments #glue #good