A Quote by Becca Fitzpatrick

Patch was in my life for a reason. I needed him. We were two halves of the same whole. — © Becca Fitzpatrick
Patch was in my life for a reason. I needed him. We were two halves of the same whole.
Someone once said that two halves make a whole. And when two halves move in together, it makes a whole lot of stuff.
I loved my father, but I was not like him. I never needed to believe the best of people. I took them as they were: two-faced, desperate, kind - perhaps all at once. But to Pa, they were all children of god, poor troubled sheep, who only needed love and an even break. He needed the world to back up what his religion told him about people. And when it came down to a choice between reason and faith, he let go of reason.
Linda and I aren't one and one. We are two halves that make a whole -- two halves fitted together are more efficient than either half would ever be alone!
They were two halves that together formed a magical whole.
We couldn't get along without him. We needed Johnny as much as he needed the gang. And for the same reason.
You’re crowding me. I need— room.”... What I needed were boundaries. I needed willpower. I needed to be caged up, since yet again I was proving I couldn’t be trusted in Patch’s presence. I should have been bolting for the door, and yet … I wasn’t.
And after I played them both a few times, I realized they were two halves of the same song.
Does Patch have a restraining order against him?' he read. 'Is Patch a felon?' 'Give-me-that!' I hissed furiously. Patch gave a soft laugh, and I knew he'd seen the next question. 'Does Patch have a girlfriend?
For a modern woman it is important to be supported and that there is equality in every aspect, and that it's not two halves that make a whole - it's two wholes that make a whole.
Two halves do not make a whole when it comes to a healthy relationship: it takes two wholes.
Only - only that, if you believe the tales, it's in the nature of our people to go to war and to kill, just as it is to sing and play and tell stories. Perhaps they are two halves of the same whole.
But instead of taking the cue to leave, Patch crossed to Scott in three steps. He flung him around to face the wall. Scott tried to get his bearings, but Patch slammed him against the wall again, disorienting him further. “Touch her,” he said in Scott’s ear, his voice low and threatening, “and it’ll be the biggest regret of your life.” Before leaving, Patch flicked his eyes once in my direction. “He’s not worth it.” He paused. “And neither am I.
I was particularly drawn to Berlin because of its literal, concrete division. Two halves making a whole, or two entities that were altered doubles of each other? Twins that had been separated and kept in neighbouring houses and raised according to different sets of rules as a social experiment? It was irresistible as a metaphor for division in the mind, for a split personality.
A relationship is not two halves coming together to make a whole. Each of you is already complete.
It is a kiss that, once begun, never really ends. Interrupted, yes. Paused, certainly. But from that very moment onward, Vera sees the whole of her life as only a breath away from kissing him again. On that night in the park, they begin the delicate task of binding their souls together, creating a whole comprising their separate halves.
You see, gentlemen, reason is an excellent thing, there’s no disputing that, but reason is nothing but reason and satisfies only the rational side of man’s nature, while will is a manifestation of the whole life, that is, of the whole human life including reason and all the impulses. And although our life, in this manifestation of it, is often worthless, yet it is life and not simply extracting square roots.
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