Best 476 quotes of Laurell K. Hamilton on MyQuotes

A certain type of man, when he loves for the first time, his love is not really love, it is possession. Possessions don't have rights or feelings; they are something to owned and controlled. He had spent more than a year trying to do just that, and failing.

A girl could never have too much jewelry or too much weaponry.

All I really wanted to do was cuddle back under the blankets, maybe with a certain stuffed toy penguin I knew. Yeah, hiding sounded good.

Always having to have the last word is a bad trait. Pisses people off.

An atheist waving a cross at a vampire was a truly pitiful sight.

And the moment you care that much, a man has you. He owns a little piece of your soul, and he can beat you to death with it.

And your excuse?' I asked. 'I'm a sociopath; I don't have to be nice,' Nicky said. I gave him a look. 'You're mad at him.I can feel it; which means I really don't have to be nice to him.' 'I thought you were friends.' 'What part of sociopath didn't you understand?' he asked.

Anita can speak for herself," Richard said. Jean-Claude's attention flicked back to me. "That is certainly true. But I came to see how the two of you enjoyed the play." "And pigs fly," I said. "You don't believe me?" "Not hardly," I said.

Anyone who doesn't believe that the forest is a deadly place has never been lost in one.

Anyone who tells you size doesn't matter has been seeing too many small knives.

Anything under size five isn't a woman. It's a boy with breasts.

A person likes to think of himself in a certain way, and when something happens that makes that no longer possible, you mourn the old self. The person you thought you were.

a pink taffeta evening gown. It looked like it had run away from a junior high prom... The dress looked like a petunia on steroids to me.

Assuming the worst was always safer. And usually truer.

A vampire victim. I'd never seen a lone kill. They were like potato chips; once a vamp tasted them, he couldn't stop at just one.

A woman will forget that a man is male, if they are good enough friends, but men rarely forget that a woman is feminine.

Being a successful couple was learning what you were willing to compromise on, and what you weren't; learning when to stand your ground, and when to give it up; what was truly important enough to fight over, and what was just you being pissy. You learned each other's hot buttons, the places that hurt, or angered, when you pressed them. Love makes you learn where all the pitfalls are, and how to avoid them, or how to set them off.

being physically intimidating didn't keep you from getting your feelings hurt. Everyone's heart is the same size.

Be nice, be nice, until it's time to stop being nice, then destroy them.

Besides I'm a sucker for a pair of pretty eyes.

Better to assume the worst and be wrong than assume the best and be wrong.

But if anything will turn me off, it's a very practiced approach, as if the man has done it a thousand times before, to a lot of different women. Which always seems to imply that I am no different from all the rest. Not flattering.

But we were all young once. It passes, like innocence and a sense of fair play. The only thing left in the end is a good instinct for survival.

By 17, I was submitting to publications and collecting my first rejection slips.

Can you truly love anyone if you do not first love yourself? If you hate yourself, can you love anyone else? If you do not accept all of who you are, can you accept anyone else? Hard questions. It remains to be seen whether I get any answers, hard, or otherwise.

Compromise is an imperfect act.

Chastity works better if you don't keep testing it.

Children make that big a difference to you? He asked. I nodded. Yeah, they do. I never figured you as the maternal type. I'm not, but kids are people, Edward, little people trapped by the choices the adults around them make.

Confidence is a fine trait. Over-confidence isn't.

Death didn't bother me much. Strong Christian and all that. Method of death did. Being eaten alive. One of my top three ways not to go out.

Death, jewelry, or magic; it sounded like Valentine's Day.

Do you really have the ability to control all types of undead?" Magnus asked. "Can you really make a hundred shoes in a single night?" I asked. Magnus smiled. "Wrong kind of fairie.

Edward's grief if you die will be a terrible thing. It will hurt him, a lot, and men like him never grieve alone. He will spread his grief all over us, not because we failed, but because it'll give him something to focus on so he doesn't have to feel the pain.

Everyone has their weaknesses. Some people smoke. I collect stuffed penguins. If you won't tell, I won't.

Everyone spends their lives trying to balance their world between good and evil.

Everyone wants to grow up to be a faerie princess. Trust me, It's overrated

Every relationship is messed up. What makes it really perfect is if you still want to be there when things suck.

Every religion has demons.... Nothing like a real, live demon to give you some of that old-time religion.

Every ruler should strive for his people to love him. But if they cannot love you, then make them fear you. Love is better, but fear will do the job.

Everything I needed was in my car, even the chickens

Fear, the strength of earth's religions, gripping every living soul, Was a monstrous human error for the making of men whole.

Fear will bind you closer than love, or hate, and it works a hell of a lot quicker.

Fear will keep you alive; indifference won't.

For me the Anita series is built like a mystery series, which means that as much as possible each book stands alone, so you have a mystery to solve from the beginning to the end of the book.

Give a truly good person power, and they’re still a good person. Give a bad person power, and they’re still a bad person. The question is always about the person in between. The one that isn’t evil, or good, but just ordinary. You don’t always know what an ordinary person is like on the inside.

Giving up something that no longer serves a purpose, or protects you, or helps you, isn’t giving up at all, it’s growing up.

Goddess” he said. Her voice floated to us. Yes, Child.” Will I see you again?” Just her voice now, young and old at the same time. “In the face of every woman you meet

Graves are for the living, not the dead. It gives us something to concentrate on instead of the fact that our loved one is rotting under the ground.

Hatred is a cold fire, and it gives no warmth.

Hatred makes us all ugly.