#pat

You're crazy. You're impossible.' 'I'm crazy?' He tipped my chin up and planted a quick, rough kiss on my mouth. 'And I must be crazy for putting up with it. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#patch #crazy

Patch was dressed in the usual: black shirt, black jeans and a thin silver necklace that flashed against his dark complexion. His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, and I could see his muscles working as he punched buttons. He was tall and lean and hard, and I wouldn't have been surprised if under his clothes he bore several scars, souvenirs from street fights and other reckless behavior. Not that I wanted a look under his clothes. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#patch #work

You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read. It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, or who had ever been alive. ↗

— James Baldwin

#empathy #pain #reading #people

Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world. ↗

— Harriet Tubman

#always #begins #change #change the world #dream

Of all the hardships a person had to face, none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting. ↗

— Khaled Hosseini

#acting

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