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"My brain must have felt sorry for me, so it'd created the only type of guy I could touch-a fantasy one."
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"Musicians do not get on stage without hearing the song singing inside of them. Poets do not write as if they are jotting down a sermon, they see everything in their subconscious before presenting it to the conscious, which they later turn to readable materials. Artist do not draw and paint without painting in dream states, trance, or see an art form that others do not see. Being creative does not calls for being any supernatural entity, but in creating with the entities inside of you."
"I have found, in short, from reading my own writing, that my subject in fiction is the action of grace in territory largely held by the devil.I have also found that what I write is read by an audience which puts little stock either in grace or the devil. You discover your audience at the same time and in the same way that you discover your subject, but it is an added blow."
"Unfortunately, bureaucratic problems at the federal level are causing many other small Washington companies to be denied federal funding that would help transfer their ideas from their laboratories into our homes and hospitals."
"Now is not the time for bigots and racists. No time for sexists and homophobes. Now, more than ever, is the time for ARTISTS. It's time for us to rise above and to create. To show humanity. To spread hope. We must prevent society from destroying itself, from losing its way. Now is the time for love."
"Generally, people who are good at writing letters have no need to write letters. They've got plenty of life to lead inside their own context."
"You know you're writing well when you're throwing good stuff into the wastebasket."
"As I suspect is true of many who write for a living, as I write I think about all sorts of things. I don't necessarily write down what I'm thinking; it's just that as I write I think about things. As I write, I arrange my thoughts. And rewriting and revising takes my thinking down even deeper paths."
"The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say."
"I like music," she said slowly, "because when I hear it, I . . . I lose myself within myself, if that makes any sense. I become empty and full all at once, and I can feel the whole earth roiling around me. When I play. I'm not . . . for once, I'm not destroying, I'm creating."
Explore more quotes by Jennifer L. Armentrout
"Your sarcasm and general assholeness are not necessary, Apollo remarked casually.I grinned at him. "I don't think 'assholeness' is a word."It is if I say it is. Apollo drew in a deep breath, a sure sign his temper was reaching its knock-Seth-into-the-nearby-ocean point."
"A few seconds after he stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him, there was a fleshly smack and then Andrew yelling, "Ouch. What in the hell was that for? "Your timing sucks on an epic level, Daemon shot back."
"I frowned as my fingers throbbed. "Wait a sec. There's a chance I can't work with fire and you let me do that?"How else am I going to figure out your limitations?"What the hell! I pulled my hand free, furious. "That's not cool, Blake. What's next? Trying to stop a moving vehicle by standing in front of it, but whoops, I can't do that and now I'm dead?"
"I don't want to know about love.''But you should, my child. You need to know about love. The things people will do for love. All truths come down to love, do they not? One way or another, they do. See, there is a difference between love and need. Sometimes, what you feel is immediate and without rhyme or reason.' She sat up a little straighter. 'Two people see each across a room or their skin brushes. Their souls recognize the person as their own. It doesn't need time to figure it. The soul always knows... whether it's right or wrong."
"A demigod? I repeated like I'd just learned to speak a few seconds ago. "A real, live demigod?"Opposed to a fake, dead one? He chuckled, proud of himself, and then sighed when my eyes narrowed on him. "You used to have a sense of humor, Seth."
"I'll accept your apology on one condition." He folded his arms across his chest."Anything?""You trust me."I cocked my head to the side. "I trust you, Cam.""No, you don't." He walked over to my small table and pulled out a chair. "Have a seat."Sitting down, I tugged the hem of his shirt down as he headed back to the stove, putting the tiny skillet over the burner."If you trusted me, you wouldn't have reacted the way you did," he simply said, cracking an egg. "And that's not me judging you or any of that kind of shit. You got to trust me that I'm not going to be an ass or freak out over that kind of stuff. You have to trust that I care enough about you."
"I don't know how we made it to the bed or if the water was ever turned off in the shower. But we were together, our bodies slippery, our wet hair soaking the sheets we were tangled in. And then we were tangled, our legs and arms. His hands were everywhere, paying reverence to the many scars on my body. His lips followed, and I grew reacquainted with the hard muscles of his stomach, the feel of him."
"Oh, shimmer down, Hunter. You're too testy. How many times have I've told you that you need to chill out, take a vacay. Disney World is really fun this time of the year. you should check it out."
"Can I tell you something?"Yeah. I wished I could tell him it was okay to keep touching my face, but that would probably be weird. Totally sounded weird in my head. And would be really inappropriate. Totally inappropriate.His lashes lowered and the lopsided grin appeared. "I always knew you'd be beautiful one day.My breath hitched as I sat straighter. What was left of the pizza, just the crust, was totally forgotten. My ears had to be smoking crack or something.A flush swept across his cheeks as one side of his lips kicked up. "I just never thought I'd get to see how beautiful you'd become."
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