Best 34 quotes of Alessandra Torre on MyQuotes

A gentleman holds my hand. A man pulls my hair. A soulmate will do both.

And when one loves kills another, can you still love the one who's left?

Being a writer all boils down to this: It's you, in a chair, staring at a page. And you're either going to stay in that chair until words are written, or you're going to give up and walk away. The great writers have to fight for their words. They have to choose to write, choose words over distractions, and their characters over their friends. Great writers can be lonely, exhausted souls. But through our characters, we live.

Death. It is a strange stalker, one that we spend our whole lives running from, some more successful than others.

Dicen que amor es encontrar el complemento de tu alma en otro...

Fate was funny that way; it had its own way of changing our lives.

First loves were supposed to be flimsy and temperamental. They were supposed to burn bright and fade fast. They weren't supposed to stick. They weren't supposed to eat away at a man's heart, his capacity for life.

Gentlemen are a dying breed. Do your part to help out by supporting them sexually.

Get up and get on the bed in the Master. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you.

His looks are my weakness, his mind my undoing.

Hope, in general, is dangerous. Hope can be the loose thread that pulls apart your sanity.

I hate society’s notion that there is something wrong with sex. Something wrong with a woman who loves sex.

Incredible how quickly a world can change. How my entire person, our friendship, can be reduced to nothing, with just one confession.

I stare across the table at Jeremy, and wonder if I will make it through our first date without trying to kill him.

I thought women enjoyed affairs. I thought they got sparks of pleasure at the buzz of their phone, thought they ran around with a glow, their world suddenly on fire with new love. I thought they were women with terrible husbands and unhappy lives, an affair the first step in an eventual ending of their marriage. I thought that they were horrible, selfish women. I never thought that I would be one of them. I never thought that I'd be so weak. It turned out being the perfect wife was only easy when there was no temptation, no mistake haunting and overshadowing your marriage.

Love is only made more valuable by the risk of heartbreak.

Lust is a dangerous thing. It can make you believe things that are not real. It can seduce your mind and lead it blindfolded to the cliff that will be its demise.

Marrying the wrong person only denies you both a chance at your soul mate.

No one is normal. Everyone is just pretending to be normal.

One of the hardest things for a writer to do is delete words.

On the bed - now,” he ordered, yanking the band of his shorts and dropping them on the floor. “I need to fuck right now more than I need to breath.

Security is a strange thing, a myth that the brain allows in exchange for a brief moment of peace.

Sex should be about mutual enjoyment, connection, the borrowing from another’s fire at a moment when you want it most.

...spikes first had been our code. Our mantra in life, the thought that you dove full force into confrontation, damn the repercussions to others, should they be too dumb to move out of the way. Sometimes you made it there safely. Sometimes you didn't, the enormous effort a waste. But if you had the opening, you had to try.

Thank you for meeting me. And for not being a serial killer.” I laugh, and take his hand. “Agreed. I was actually planning on being a serial killer but decided against it. My day is kind of full. Meetings.

The act of sex is healthy, normal, God-given. It's the emotions and entitlement that everyone attaches to it that is harmful.

The attraction of reading is that it allows you to live, for a few hours, as someone else—grants you access to their head, their thoughts, their secrets.

The heart is stubborn. It holds onto love despite what sense and emotion tells it. And it is often, in the battle of those three, the most brilliant of all.

There is nothing like young love. It comes at a time before the heart knows to protect itself, when everything important is raw and exposed—the perfect environment for a soul-sucking, heart-crushing burst.

The true measure of a man is how he treats you when others are not looking.

Today is the day that you create worlds, you change lives, you make a something, a someone, out of nothing. Today is the day you become a writer.

Wait for the man who will do anything to be your everything. And will continue to do it after he has your heart.

When had I gotten so afraid of love and hope that I strangled it to death with my insecurity? Maybe it was easier to date an ugly man, one with obvious flaws, one who belched and couldn’t dress, and wasn’t so damn perfectly tempting. At least then I’d feel confident.

Women rarely need the things they want