Best 53 quotes in «cassie quotes» category

Bear proves that true love doesn’t have to be complicated—or even reciprocated.

You don't have to dance. Just brood in beat to the music.

You’re the mayfly,' he murmurs. And then Evan Walker kisses me. Holding my hand across his chest, his other hand sliding across my neck, his touch feathery soft, sending a shiver that travels down my spine into my legs, which are having a hard time keeping me upright. I can feel his heart slamming against my palm and I can smell his breath and feel the stubble on his upper lip, a sandpapery contrast to the softness of his lips, and Evan is looking at me and I’m looking back at him.

Because that's what you do when the curtain is falling, you say the line the audience wants to hear.

Vielleicht bin ich die Letzte, aber ich bin diejenige, die noch da ist. Ich bin diejenige, die dem gesichtslosen Jäger im Wald auf einem verlassenen Highway entgegentreten wird. Ich bin diejenige, die nicht wegläuft, nicht bleibt, sondern ihm entgegentritt. Denn wenn ich die Letzte bin, dann bin ich die Menschheit. Und wenn das der letzte Krieg der Menschheit ist, dann bin ich das Schlachtfeld.

What about your servant? Did he see anything?" [...]As soon as the crisis was over, Billy had fled into his necklace and I hadn't seen him since. I gave him little poke, just for the hell of it, and got back the metaphysical version of the finger. "Billy doesn't know anything," I translated. "Are you certain?" Tell him to suck my balls! "Pretty certain.

Who are you Evan? If that's evan your name. Even your name.

You and everyone else on the planet," I said. "Nobody actually knows, and they won't tell us, so everybody sits around guessing and theorizing, and it's all kind of pointless. Maybe they're spacefaring micemen from Planet Cheese and they've come for our provolone.

You can put the girl in a relationship...," I began, putting my arm around her. "But you can't take the boy-crazy out of the girl," Cassie finished.

You can't tell me you're not cold in those shorts." "Freezing," she admitted, handing Alex her messenger bag as she got to her feet. "But dammit, I look cute and we both know that's what counts." "Naturally.

You know, you really don't have to kill anyone over this. I'll get an annulment. It will be like never happened" His eyes came to her, briefly meeting her gaze before dropping to her mouth. "You'll have to make that a divorce instead" "No you don't understand. An annulment will be much easier to obtain" His gaze locked with hers now. Cassie became slightly breathless with the intensity of his stare. "Not after tonight, it won't." He said in his mesmerizing drawl. "Why?" She barely got the word out. "Because i'm in the mood to play husband" "You're what?" He started toward her. She was too stunned to move, so he was there and reaching for her before she had time to think about running. "We're having a wedding night," he said as he lifted her off her feet.--

You’re breathtaking,” he explained. “All you have to do is stand there and breathe and the earth beneath my feet moves.

Aliens are stupid. (Cassie in The 5th Wave, part one, chapter one, page one)

Are pervs only pervs if you don't find them attractive?

Earlier, I was sitting on a bench on the banks of the Tiber, and there were all these people there holding hands and kissing. Happy and in love. They made it seem so easy. Like giving their heart to someone else isn't the scariest thing in the world. I still don't understand that. Don't they know the power they're giving to that other person? The absolute future-forming dominion? Don't they understand how much it's going to hurt when it all goes wrong? And let's face it, ninety percent of those couples won't still be together a year from now. Even six months from now. And yet, there they are, hugging and lip-locking, completely oblivious to the pain that's coming for them. Unconcerned and trusting.

Dance it off.

Home isn't a place. Home is the people who love you most, the people who will always love you, forever and ever, no matter what.

He touched her as he would touch his violin: it was how he knew to touch something that was precious and loved.

Home isn't a place, Cassie.' The memory crept up on me. 'Home is the people who love you most, the people who will always love you, forever and ever, no matter what.

I dab at the blood with some gauze from the kit, fighting back hysterical giggles. I blame it on the unbearable stress, not on the fact that I'm wiping Evan Walker's ass.

I am the one not running, not staying, but facing. Because if I am the last one, then I am humanity. And if this is humanity's last war, then I am the battlefield.

I know,” he said, looking down at himself — skin like papier-mache, ribs like violin strings. “I am not — I mean, I look —” “Beautiful,” she said, and the word was a pronouncement. “You are beautiful, James Carstairs.

I've never felt so... light.

I'm having a bad day," I told him. My little brother hated me, my human-alien personal security guard confessed he doesn't know compassion from compost, and now my old high school crush informs me he's embarking on a suicide mission to rescue two missing and probably dead people. PLUS I wanted a sandwich that I could never have. -Cassie

I narrowed my eyes at it. Ming-de’s little gift, I assumed. “You look better in color,” I snapped. He sent me a sultry look over his shoulder. “Really? Most women think I look better in nothing at all.

Is this how humanity waves good-bye? Hell no.

It doesn’t begin inside my head like I expected. Instead a delicious warmth spreads through my body, expanding from my heart outward, and my bones and muscles and skin dissolve in the warmth that spreads out from me, until the warmth overcomes the Earth and the boundaries of the universe. The warmth is everywhere and everything. My body and everything outside my body belongs to it. Then I feel him; he is in the warmth, too, and there’s no separation between us, no spot where I end and he begins, and I open up like a flower to the rain, achingly slow and dizzyingly fast, dissolving in the warmth, dissolving in him and there’s nothing to see, that’s just the convenient word he used because there is no word to describe him, he just is. And I open to him, a flower to the rain.

It's an alien toilet!" -Cassie

I made a promise. The kind of promise you don't break because, if you break it you've broken part of yourself, maybe the most important part.

I’m also the man who’s gonna eventually have to take a job but I’m gonna do it thinkin’ of when I can get back to you, and when it’s done, I’m gonna haul ass back to you. And I probably won’t sleep or eat while I’m doin’ that so you’re just gonna have to suck it up, feed me when I get back, fuck me hard like you just did, and let me crash.” I had something to say to that. “I don’t want you to get in an accident.” At that, he dipped his face so close to me, I could feel his breath on my lips. “Baby, that shit happened, my ghost would come to you.

I… What are you doing " Mircea had run a hand through his waterfall of hair and now he was sliding those beautifully shaped hands down his chest to glide over his nipples. His torso was hairless and perfectly sculpted with toned muscles and a long waist. He followed the lines of his flat stomach to the low-slung border of his only remaining garment. His fingers lingered there sliding along that insubstantial barrier teasingly drawing my eyes to the line of dark hair that started below his navel and disappeared beneath the black silk. It was startling against the pale perfection of his skin and except for the faint pink of his nipples gave the only color to his upper body. "Doing dulceaţă " he asked innocently. "I am trying my best to seduce you.

I will not let anything hurt you,” Balik promised. “I will not let anything come between us,” I replied with my own whispered oath. “You and me,” Balik smiled a little. “Always,” I agreed as I reached up to draw his face to mine and pressed my lips onto his.

Maybe, to do what you and I do, we have to have a little bit of the monster in us.

Mr. Complete Lack of Sympathy

My sometimes friend, sometimes enemy, all the time pain in the ass.

Not Cassie for Cassandra. Or Cassie for Cassidy. Cassie for Cassiopeia, the constellation, the queen tied to her chair in the northern sky, who was beautiful but vain, placed in the heavens by the sea god Poseidon as a punishment for her boasting. In Greek, her name means “she whose words excel.

Nothing hurts you unless you let it.

Oh, Shit list

Pip was trembling with fatigue. "I gotta sit down." He made it to a chair before he collapsed and Cassie was immediately there with a medikit, pulling up his shirt, examining gel patches. He'd felt them stop working some time ago and they were now dried and covered in dirt. "Stop trying to get my clothes off, woman!" He made a weak attempt to fend her off, but she smacked his hands away.

Pritkin, it’s a hotel room, not a death trap!” A glance over his shoulder showed him impatient blue eyes under a fall of messy blond curls. “Anyway, you’re here.” “I can’t protect you from everything,” he forced himself to say, because it was true. It was also frankly terrifying in a way that his own mortality was not. He’d never had children, but he sometimes wondered if this was how parents felt when catching sight of a fearless toddler confidently heading toward a busy street. Not that his charge was a child, as he was all too uncomfortably aware. But the knowledge of just how many potentially lethal pitfalls lay in her path sometimes caused him that same heart-clenching terror. And the same overwhelming need to throw her over his lap and spank the living daylights out of her, he thought grimly, when she suddenly popped out of existence. “Cassie!

It's okay. You aren't my type. What's your type? Someone who gets into less trouble.

Puede que sea la última, pero soy la que sigue en pie. Soy la que se vuelve hacia el cazador sin rostro del bosque en una autopista abandonada. Soy la que no huye, la que no se queda, soy la que planta cara. Porque, si soy la última, significa que yo soy la humanidad.

¿Qué eres, baptista?

She looks tan...-ish." "There's a fine line between 'tan', and looking like you just rolled around in a giant bag of Doritos. And Miranda seems to prefer the nacho cheese variety.

Sólo podemos saber que alguien está loco si hay un cuerdo con quien compararlo.

Something weird," Ben said. "You would think, with ninety-nine percent of us gone, the two percent would get along better." Um, that would be one percent, Parish.

Sometimes, the hardest thing to be is the one who lives.

That's my name. Not Cassie for Cassandra. Or Cassie for Cassidy. And it's not Cassie for Cassiopeia. Not anymore. I am more than her now. I am all of them, Evan and Ben and Marika and Megan and Sam. I am Dumbo and Poundcake and Teacup. I am all the ones you emptied, the ones you corrupted, the ones you discarded, the thousands you thought you killed, but who live in me. But I am more than this. I am all those they remember, the ones they loved, everyone they knew, and everyone they only heard about. How many are contained in me? Count the stars. Go on, number the grains of sand. That's me. I am humanity.

I've decided to trust him, but like somebody once said, you can't force yourself to trust. So you put all your doubts in a little box and bury it deep and then try to forget where you buried it. My problem is that buried box is like a scab I can't stop picking at.

Speaking of fruit, I'm down--I mean, he's down--to his underwear.