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“Every time you strip my sword, I owe you a kiss. How's that sound?" I bit my lip to keep from giggling.

"That sounds really dirty."

Patch waggled his brows. "Look whose mind just rolled into the gutter.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Ready?"

Despite the grim mood, I smiled and cracked my knuckles.

"Ready to wrestle with my gorgeous boyfriend? Oh, I'd say I'm ready for that."

Amusement softened his eyes.

"I'll try to control where I put my hands, but in the heat of things, who knows what could happen?" I added.

Patch grinned. "Sounds promising.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“I was terrified of what might have happened to you," I choked out.

"I was terrified thinking the same about you."

"The devilcraft-" I began.

Patch exhaled beneath me, and my body dipped with his. His breath carried relief and raw emotion. His eyes, stripped of everything but sincerity, found mine. "My skin can be replaced. But you can't, Angel. When Dante left, I thought it was over. I thought I'd failed you. I've never prayed so hard in my life.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“I have a free couple of hours," I told him, walking toward my car, which was parked on the next block. "There's a very private, very secluded barn in Lookout Hill Park behind the carousel. I could be there in fifteen minutes."

I heard the smile in his voice. "You want me bad.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“If I could make this go away, I would. If I could stand in your place, I wouldn't hesitate. But I'm left with one choice, and that's to stand by your side through the end. I won't waver, Angel, I can promise you that.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Patch tipped my chin up. "If I could make this go away, I would. If I could stand in your place, I wouldn't hesitate. But I'm left with one choice, and that's to stand by your side through the end. I won't waver, Angel, I can promise you that.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Step one: Invade your opponet's mind. This is just like using mind-speak. Try it on me."

"That's easy," I said, casting my mental nets toward Dante, ensnaring his mind, and pushing words into his conscious thought. I'm in your mind, having a look around, and it's awfully empty in here.

Wiseacre, Dante returned.

Nobody says that anymore. Speaking of which, how old are you in Nephilim years? I'd never thought to ask.

I swore fealty during Napoleon's invasion of Italy-my homeland.

And that was in what year...? Help me out. I'm not a history buff.

Dante smiled. 1796.

Wow. You're old.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“I dug the untraceable phone Patch had given me out of my handbag and dialled his number.

"I have a free couple of hours," I told him, walking toward my car, which was parked on the next block. "There's a very dark, very secluded barn in Lookout Hill Park behind the carousel. I could be there in fifteen minutes."

I heard the smile in his voice."You want me bad."

"I need and an endorphin boost."

"And making out in an abandoned barn with me will give you one?"

"No, it will probably put me in an endorphin coma, and I'm more than happy to test the theory.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Patch's eyes grazed me with silent heat. My reflection swirled in them, red hair and lips aflame. I was connected to him by a force I couldn't control, a tiny thread that tethered my soul to his. With the moon at his back, shadows painted the faint hollows beneath his eyes and cheekbones, making him look breathtakingly handsome and equally diabolical. His hands steadied my face, holding me still before him. The wind tangled my hair around his wrists, twining us together. His thumbs moved across my cheekbones in a slow, intimate caress. Despite the cold, a steady burn coiled up inside me, vulnerable to his touch. His fingers traced lower, lower, leaving behind a hot, delicious ache. I closed my eyes, my joints melting. He lit me up like a flame, light and heat burning at a depth I'd never fathomed. His thumb stroked my lip, a soft, seductive tease. I gave a sharp sigh of pleasure.

"Kiss you now?" he asked.

I couldn't speak; a wilted no was my reply.

His mouth, hot and daring, met mine. All play had left him, and he kissed me with his own black fire, deep and possessive, consuming my body, my soul, and laying waste to all past notions of what it meant to be kissed.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“I saw you, and I wanted to be close to you. I wanted you to let me in. I wanted to know you in a way no one else did. I wanted you, all of you.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Nice costume," he said.

"Ditto. I can tell you put alot of though into yours."

Amusement curled his mouth. "If you don't like it, I can take it off."

I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "That just might be the best proposal I've had all night."

"My offers are always the best, Angel.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“If we're doing this for ten hours, I'm going to need a little incentive to stay motivated."

Patch hooked his elbow around my neck and dragged me into a kiss. "Every time you strip my sword, I owe you a kiss. How's that sound?"

I bit my lip to keep from giggling. "That sounds really dirty."

Patch waggled his eyebrows. "Look whose mind just rolled into the gutter. Two kisses per strip. Any objections?"

I pulled on an innocent face. "None whatsoever.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Patch backed me into a tree and kissed me, hard.
I regained my breath. "Boys take not everywhere: That was a kiss.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Don't pour a lifetime of effort into a seasonal relationship. Not everyone from the pilot belongs in the finale.”
― Mandy Hale, The Single Woman–Life, Love, and a Dash of Sass: Embracing Singleness with Confidence

“Patch wore black jeans and a matching T- shirt that hugged his form. He rested his hands on my shoulders, facing me. "Ready?"
Despite the grim mood, I smiled and cracked my knuckles. "Ready to wrestle my gorgeous boyfriend? Oh, I'd say I'm ready for that."
Amusement softened his eyes.
"I'll try to control where I put my hands, but in the heat of things, who knows what could happen?" I added.
Patch grinned. "Sounds promising.”
― becca Fitzpatrick, Finale

“Is this how we make our way to death? Blue wondered. A stumbling fade-out instead of a self-aware finale?”
― Maggie Stiefvater, The Raven Boys

“-"you dress to impress"
-"No Angel,I undress to impress”
― Becca Fitzpatrick Finale

“But strength doesn’t always mean brute force. You don’t have to kick ass to be a fighter. Violence doesn’t equal strength.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick , Finale

“There can be no greater agony, nothing can be more painful than the not knowing, which will never end.”
― Paula Hawkins

“For the fragment of a life, however typical, is not the sample of an even web: promises may not be kept, and an ardent outset may be followed by declension; latent powers may find their long-awaited opportunity; a past error may urge a grand retrieval.”
― George Eliot, Middlemarch

“Furono trovati tra tutte quelle carcasse raccapriccianti due scheletri di cui uno teneva l'altro strettamente abbracciato. Uno di questi due scheletri, che era quello di una donna, aveva ancora qualche brandello di una veste la cui stoffa doveva essere stata bianca e intorno al collo una collana di adrézarach con un sacchettino di seta, ornato di vetri verdi, che era aperto e vuoto. Quegli oggetti avevano così poco valore che senza dubbio il boia non li aveva voluti. L'altro, che teneva questo primo scheletro strettamente abbracciato, era lo scheletro di un uomo. Fu notato che aveva la colonna vertebrale deviata, la testa nelle scapole, e una gamba più corta dell'altra. Non aveva però alcuna rottura di vertebre alla nuca, ed era evidente che non era stato impiccato. L'uomo al quale apparteneva era dunque andato là, e là vi era morto.
Quando si cercò di staccarlo dallo scheletro che abbracciava, si disfece in polvere. "

- Notre-Dame de Paris, V. Hugo”
― Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

“That´s the problem with planning a late night supper after the opera, not only does the hero or the heroine die singing, but you end up famished after the last notes of the finale.”
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

“As the world continually multiplies, are we in a generation where people are divided, or people are equal?”
― Anthony Liccione

“He wouldn't grovel, wouldn't fall to his knees and beg forgiveness. He was the son of the Leo, the King of all lions. He would, one day soon, be the Leo and reign over his people. He couldn't fall for her more than he already had, but he could hope she could see how he felt.

Because if she didn't, he wasn't sure what he would do next.”
― Carrie Ann Ryan, Prowled Darkness

“She'd been the one to push him away this time, yet it hurt just as much as it had before. The door clicked closed behind him, and she gasped out a sob, her body shaking. Why had she said what she'd said? Why had she pushed him away like that?

It made no sense. The only thing she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and never let him go.

And that was why she didn't do it.

Because once she did, she'd never let go. And she wasn't sure she'd survive if she had to watch him leave her again.”
― Carrie Ann Ryan, Prowled Darkness

“Dude. I’m going to have a baby. A baby cub. What the hell am I going to do?â€�
Amara hugged her close and kissed her temple. Her friend warmed her when Eliana hadn’t been sure she could ever feel any form of warmth again. “You’re going to be a kickass mom. You and Malik are going to talk and figure out a plan. Whether you are together or apart, you’ll be there for this baby. We all will. I know fate just threw you a curveball of epic proportions, but you can handle it. You’re stronger than you think you are.�
Eliana hoped her friend was right. Because everything had changed once again and now she had to be the rock for not only herself but her baby, as well. Only she was tired of being the rock. She wanted to lean against someone. She wanted a partner.
She just didn‘t think Malik knew what it meant to be a partner. Because she sure as hell didn’t.”
― Carrie Ann Ryan, Prowled Darkness

“Quasimodo allora alzò nuovamente lo sguardo sull’egiziana di cui vedeva il corpo, appeso alla forca, fremere da lontano sotto l’abito bianco negli ultimi spasimi dell’agonia, poi li abbassò sull’arcidiacono disteso ai piedi della torre senza più forma umana, e disse con un singhiozzo dal profondo del petto: «Oh! Tutto ciò ce ho amato!»"

-Notre-Dame de Paris, V. Hugo”
― Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre Dame