Once you’re already in hell, it’s too late to beg for mercy.

Emily smiled mischievously. "Your engagement was a rainy day occurrence? Afraid she would say no on a good day?

Just for the record, the way to a man's heart isn't through his stomach, but through the best fucking blow job ever. You want a man to be your bitch? Perfect your craft.

But there's one thing all the pixies do have in common. There's no magic left in any of their wings. No shimmer. No luminescence. And I have this awful feeling that my wings look no different.

Why can't our existence be like the stars? Happily twinkling and dancing in the night sky, bringing light and entertainment to all who see? The stars make everyone ponder unanswered questions, makes everyone smile. And no matter who you are, where you are or what you've done, they're always there for you. No matter what.

She was my gravity, the very thing that kept me grounded. And I was hers, and I no longer wanted her to feel like she was falling. She was mine to catch. To steady. To hold.

I asked you here today because the police department asked me to assess your mental health."I huffed and rolled my eyes. "Already? Seriously? It's been a week." I am fucking sunshine.

Leave already, because I'm on the verge of hypothetically kicking my foot up your ass, and I doubt the pain of it will be pretend.

With a firm hushed tone, she replied, "Just let him go. Women like Anne will always be the best choice for our lifestyle""Well, that may be true, but at least when he was with me, he didn't have to drink himself to death just to get through the day

I'm not looking for the perfect man. I'm looking for the man whose imperfections I can put up with.