And that's what love at first sight is. It isn't really love at first sight until you've been with the person long enough for it to become love at first sight.
A woman knows if she wants to keep a man forever, she has to act like she could get over him in a day.
A terrible sex life is like a virus. Your marriage can be healthy in all other aspects, but once the sex dies out, it starts to infect all the other parts of your relationship.
Find what you love and let it kill you.
The things lurking around inside the mind can be just as dangerous as tangible threats.
I was difficult. An emotionally challenging puzzle he wasn't up for solving. Which was fine. I wasn't in the mood to be solved.
Take care of your physical being. Feed it what it needs, not what the conscience tells you it wants. Giving in to cravings of the mind that ultimately hurt the body is like a weak parent giving in to her child. "Oh, you had a bad day? Do you want an entire box of cookies? Okay, sweetie. Eat it. And drink this soda while you're at it." Caring for your body is no different from caring for a child. Sometimes it's hard, sometimes it sucks, sometimes you just want to give in, but if you do, you'll pay for the consequences eighteen years down the road.
The kiss was full of both desire and respect - two things a lot of men didn't seem to know could go hand in hand.
If we were friends, I would do something to comfort him. Maybe grab his hand and hold it. But there's too much inside me that wants to be more than his friend, which means we can't be friends at all. If an attraction is present between two people, those two people can only be one of two things. Involved or not involved. There is no in-between.
I don't want to call him an a-hole. He's a little kid, and he's been through a lot. But I think he might be an a-hole.
Here, I'm invisible. Unimportant. Manhattan is too crowded to give a sh-t about me, and I love her for it.
It was amazing how different sex felt when a person used more than their body. I involved my heart and my gut and my mind and my hope. I fell in that moment. Not in love. I just... fell.
I'm the awkward writer who posts a picture of my book and says, "It's an okay book. There are words in it. Read it if you want."
A writer should never have the audacity to write about themselves unless they're willing to separate every layer of protection between the author's soul and their book. The words should come directly from the center of the gut, tearing through flesh and bone as they break free. Ugly and honest and bloody and a little bit terrifying, but completely exposed.
Most people come to New York to be discovered. The rest of us come here to hide.
My mother used to say that houses have a soul, and if that is true, the soul of Verity Crawford's house is as dark as they come.
It's natural, to assume the worst in people, even if that assumption is only for a split second.
