Best 38 quotes of Erin Mccarthy on MyQuotes

And everyone is always saying that marriage is really hard and takes a lot of work. But the thing is, when you know that you love someone, those things don't matter. You have to push all the everyday things and the outside world away, and just enjoy knowing that this is the man who has the chest your head is meant to lie on.

Honey, nobody ever knows someone completely. You have to just enjoy what you do know and have faith in the rest.

I still wasn't convinced that tossing a shoe didn't mean you harbored an anger-management problem, but I did understand love now. How it wrapped around you and made you more aware of the prickles on your skin, the roots of your hair, the intensity of every touch and every inch of you. It was like life on hi-def. Everything was sharper.

I think perfect love is any time you love unconditionally, without selfish intent, without concern for personal gain.

I want you to know that you're the hottest biscuit this side of the gravy boat.

Life is like waiting in line at the grocery store. You wait, you slowly move forward, you pay the price, then you exit unsatisfied and broke.

Literature wasn't intended to be about perfect people, it was about flaws, very real and very deep human flaws.

Love, no matter how it's expressed, is still love. We all have flaws, and so our love will be flawed. But that doesn't diminish it.

Our relationship felt like a Christmas gift that you hadn't asked for and weren't expecting to receive, but the minute you saw it, you knew it was perfect for you.

You need to decide whether you're willing to risk being hurt, plain and simple. You can go for it and have a wonderful relationship. Or you might go for it and crash and burn brilliantly. It's up to you if you want to take that risk, up to you if it's worth it or not.

Alexis grabbed his arm. "Tom Jones? Wow, I totally love Tom Jones. He's like quintessential Vegas—over the top and indecent fun. Let me just go grab a pair of underwear to throw at him and we'll be all set." Over his undead body. If anyone was getting her underwear tossed in his face, it was going to be him. "I don't think so, Ball Buster. You're not giving your panties to an old man." "Oh, and you're so young, Garlic?" "Garlic?" What the hell was that? "Yep. Now we have pet names for each other, isn't that adorable? You're Garlic and I'm Ball Buster. Now everyone will believe we're a real couple.

Amanda meant to move, but somehow her feet didn't do anything. They were like Quebec, determined to be independent.

And the thing is, we can’t fail. We’ve already hit the bottom and come out of it. From here on out, if we just love and listen, we can’t go wrong, babe.

Bet you've never had a bear down your pants before. Though I'm kind of a bear in bed. (Rick from Back to Basics)

But the truth is, I want to be some woman's work boots, not her high heels." "Work boots?" What was sexy about that? And did women have work boots? "Yeah. You know, the boots she pulls out when she wants to get down and dirty, hiking or gardening or boating or painting the kitchen. The ones she relies on and trusts and lives her life hard and good and on her terms in. Her favorites.

Can I get you anything? A drink? A fresh change of clothes? A membership card to Hypocrites International?

Did I ever tell you the difference between a Northern fairy tale and a Southern one?" she asked him, indulging herself and letting her head rest on his shoulder. God, he felt good. Her man. Where her head was meant to lie, right there, on him. "What's the difference?" "A Northern one starts 'once upon a time,' while a Southern one starts 'y'all ain't going to believe this shit.

Does this mean we can eat pie today?" Easton asked. Riley let out a snorting laugh. "I know someone who will be." Nice.

He's a pig and I don't allow livestock in the house.

He was really having a hard time with this. He was not a seductive kind of guy, and if he tried to be sexy, he was going to sound like Romeo, the porn version.

Hey! Give that back!" Panic started to set in. Ignoring the fact that I was only in my panties, I jumped up out of bed and grabbed at the sweatshirt, trying to pull it back to me. I couldn't lose it, I just couldn't. But then his jaw dropped. "You're not wearing pants!" He slapped his hand over his eyes and let me pull the shirt out of his grip. "Damn it, put some clothes on." That gave me pause, and might have made me laugh if I wasn't so freaked out. The demon from hell was unnerved by me being half-dressed?

How does he get that caveman shit to work for him? I would get my balls ripped off and stuffed in my mouth if I pulled what he does.

I am successful because of my brains and my guts, put together, and I don't need some fancy-ass degree from a bunch of sweater-vest-wearing pricks who haven't gotten laid since Bush Senior was president... Do you know who studies sociology? People who would rather observe life than live it.

I mean, it's okay if you're the one with the low sex drive. We'll just have to adjust and learn to accommodate that.

Me? I'm being ridiculous? You're the one flirting for your thesis. What the hell kind of degree is that anyway? A doctorate of dick tease?

No. I'm trying to think like a human, trying to decide if it's selfish to kiss you. If it's not in your best interest. I don't always understand how to be thoughtful." He really did look like he was having an internal struggle over right and wrong. I could practically see the wheels grinding in his skull. "Here's a clue," I told him. "If I ask you if you're going to kiss me, it means I want you to, which means it's not selfish of you." He frowned. "Are you sure?" A demon with a moral streak stronger than any guy I'd ever met. Who would have imagined that.

Now you bitches can stand here quaking in your boots about what your women might do to you. I’m going to get my woman.

Once upon a time she had liked to dance. When she had been about the same age as the little brunette out there who kept lifting her dress up over her head. Now that was living. Just lift your dress if you wanted to get down and don't worry what anyone thought.

Seamus: "I was wondering if you would like to go get some coffee" Cara: "Well that depends ... do you like to take long walks?" Seamus: "Yes" Cara: "Do you like sex?" Seamus: "Yeees" Cara: "Then take a f***ing hike and leave me the hell alone.

Sounds like a plan. I owe Tammy a big thank-you.” Ty sighed. “I think I’m too old for this bachelor party crap.” “We’ll be planning yours soon enough.” That was so not appealing, Ty was almost scared. “Let’s just go fishing and call it good.” “Done.

Suzanne had totally forgotten about their court date since she'd been a little busy having tons of condom-free sex with Ryder, planning Nikki's wedding, and forming a placenta.

Then he was forming letters again, one at a time on her back, while Laurel clung to him, full of heart and body, still joined to him intimately. Wanting his words, needing them, moved profoundly by them. I love you. One letter after the other, until they were all there, telling her everything she needed to know here in the dark.

The only confession Jolene had ever wrenched from him was that he had cared about her.

The path of true love never ran smooth. More likely you ran out of gas, blew a tire, and hit the wall before you crossed the finish line.

This was fun. We should find out we're still married more often." "Why, so every day can be a special new plunge into hell?" "Nobody I'd rather burn with than you, babe.

Though Trish and her bad boy types weren't exactly Kindra's style, she had to agree that Violet went for quiet and uninteresting. Sort of like mild salsa. Why even bother? You'd be better off just biting a tomato.

Why?” she whispered. “Why should I dance with you?” “Because I love you. Because I love you so much I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it go differently this time.”... "Because we should be a married couple, because I never wanted to not be married to you. Because all these men out here dancing with their wives can’t possibly love them as much as I love you. Because for me, there is only one woman, and I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re it.

Your subservience makes me uncomfortable.” That pissed me off. “Then you shouldn’t pay people to do things for you. End of story.