A Quote by Kelley Armstrong

He looked at me. " I do know how to deal with demons, Savannah." "I know. Sorry." "So I get a hug?" "No, but I won't smack you, and we'll call it even. — © Kelley Armstrong
He looked at me. " I do know how to deal with demons, Savannah." "I know. Sorry." "So I get a hug?" "No, but I won't smack you, and we'll call it even.
He gives me a kiss that barely touches my lips – it means nothing or everything. After he’s gone, I think, Happy birthday to me. Jack says, ‘That was the guy?’ ‘That was him.’ Jake shakes his head. ‘What?’ ‘He’s not for you,’ he says. I say, ‘How do you know?’ but what I mean is, How do you know? ‘He’s like Ashley Wilkes,’ he says. ‘Any one of these guys is Rhett-ier than he is.’ Again, I ask my benignly inflected, ‘How do you know?’ ‘How do I know?’ he says, tackling me into a bear hug. ‘How do I know? I know, that’s how I know.
We are hunting the demons that haunt others. We get a smell and off we go. And you know why, Sunil? You know why we are so good at hunting the demons of others? Because we are so good, gifted even, at stalking and evading our own. But all demons hunters think that they are really heroes, and you know what all heroes need?
Just because you "liked" my picture, doesn't mean you shouldn't call me and ask me how I'm doing. You know what's funny? If you ever owe someone a call, and it's something you're trying to avoid, notice how many times they "like" your photos until you call them back. It's an alarm, and people abuse that. They know you can see that. They know you'll see their name.
I can't even tell you how good it felt to see him. It felt even better when he reached through the metal grate, wrapped his fingers around the front of my shirt, dragged me forward, and kissed me through the bars. "Sorry" he said-only not looking to sorry, if you know what I mean.
Every once in a while, I hear somebody call me Tracy to try to let me know that they know me, you know, personally. But most of my real friends will call me Trey, or 'Ice' was basically short for Iceberg. So they would call me - some of my boys call me Berg.
I never thought of it as God. I didn't know what to call it. I don't believe in devils, but demons I do because everyone at one time or another has some kind of a demon, even if you call it by another name, that drives them.
You know, people do call it homophobia, and even that term alone is interesting to me. Because I don't even know how they call it homophobia, because that's a fear of the same. It's more heterophobia. It's a fear of something different from yourself.
You know, I'm the mayor of Realville. I'm Mr. Literal. And I never saw the benefit of complaining and whining and moaning. I don't complain and whine and moan anyway, and I don't deal well with people that do. I don't know how to react to complaining, other than say, "Oh, gee, I'm sorry." I don't know how to react to whining and moaning. It kind of bothers me. So I don't do it myself. Lord knows, I got all kinds of things. I could spend the rest of this week whining and moaning if you wanted me to about things. I just don't.
If someone you know is diagnosed with cancer, give them a call or send them a letter to tell them how sorry you are and to let them know how much you care.
A second later, when he looked up at me, we were face to face, and again, even under these circumstances, I was struck by how good looking he was, in that accidental, doesn't-even-know-it kind of way. Which only made it worse. Or better. Or whatever. "Yup", he said, as if there'd been any doubt, "you're in there, all right." "I was warned, too,"I told him, as he stood up. "I just saw that sculpture, and I got distracted." "The sculpture?" He looked at it, then at me. "Oh, right. Because you know it.
Southern women always know how to make you feel welcome, loved and admired, even when we're talkin' smack!
I guarantee you, as president of the United States, I know how to heal the wounds of war, I know how to deal with our adversaries, and I know how to deal with our friends.
Whenever someone calls me ugly I get super sad and hug them, because I know how tough life is for the visually impaired.
We [Americans] know Martin Luther King Jr. as a statue. We know him as a holiday. We know him as a speech. We don't know him as a man. Most people don't even know the whole speech, just "I have a dream." They don't know what his speaking voice was like, how he looked at his wife, or that he had four kids.
I was in my peak physical condition when I was about like, uh... one. Oh God, I looked good, young and fresh! You wouldn't know me now if you'd seen me when I was one, you know? I even looked good for my age. People would come up to me and go, what are you, zero? And I'd go, no, I'm one over here!
I deal out of a reality that isn't real. I'm sorry. I don't know what that means. I don't really know what I do.
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