Lovers Quarrel Quotes

“The men watched as Annwyl the Bloody took a stand against something from their darkest nightmares. Too afraid to fight, but too terrified for their leader to run away.
And then Brastias saw the girl do something he would never forget.
She kicked the beast. Right in the knee.
Brastias and Danelin exchanged glances.
“Well, you always thought she was insane,” Brastias offered.
“I didn’t think I was right.”
“You lying toe-rag!” she yelled up at him.
“Let me explain.”
“Go to hell!”
“Annwyl.”
“No!”
― G.A. Aiken, Dragon Actually

“To love, and be loved, this is the greatest challenge that any of us face in our lives.”
― T. Scott McLeod, All That Is Unspoken

“My love, you are always on my mind. I love you so much.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita, Think Great: Be Great!

“We are all Romeos looking for our Juliet, but never finding her.”
― Rae Hachton, Frankie's Monster

“Does it undermine my image as a warrior to be with you?'

'No. Does it undermine Feyre's when she's seen with Rhys?'

Her stomach tightened. Her heartbeat pulsed in her arms, her gut. 'It's different for them,' she made herself say as they reached the end of the bridge and turned to walk along the quay flanking the river.

Cassian asked carefully. 'Why?'

Nesta kept her focus on the glittering river, vibrant with the hues of sunset. 'Because they're mates.'

At his utter silence, she knew what he'd say. Halted again, bracing herself for it.

Cassian's face was a void. Completely empty as he said, 'And we're not?'

Nesta said nothing.

He huffed a laugh. 'Because they're mates and you don't want us to be.'

'That word means nothing to me, Cassian,' she said, voice thick as she tried to keep the people who strode past from overhearing. 'It means something to all of you, but for most of my life, husband and wife was as good as it got. Mate is just a word.'

'That's bullshit.'

When she only began walking along the river again, he asked. 'Why are you frightened?'

'I'm not frightened.'

'What spooked you? Just being seen publicly with me like this?'

Yes. Having him kiss her and realising that soon she'd have to return to the world humming around them, and leave the House, and she didn't know what she would do then. What it would mean for them. If she would plunge back into that dark place she'd occupied before.

Drag him down with her.

'Nesta. Talk to me.'

She met his stare, but wouldn't open her mouth.

Cassian's eyes blazed. 'Say it.' She refused. 'Say it, Nesta.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Ask me why I vanished for nearly a week after Solstice. Why I suddenly had to do an inspection right after a holiday.'

Nesta kept her mouth shut.

'It was because I woke up the next morning and all I wanted to do was fuck you for a week straight. And I knew what that meant, what had happened, even though you didn't, and I didn't want to scare you. You weren't ready for the truth- not yet.'

Her mouth went dry.

'Say it,' Cassian snarled. People gave them a wide berth. Some outright turned back toward the direction they'd come from.

'No.'

His face shuttered with rage even as his voice became calm. 'Say it.'

She couldn't. Not before he'd ordered her to, and certainly not now. She couldn't let him win like that.

'Say what I guessed from the moment we met,' he breathed. 'What I knew the first time I kissed you. What became unbreakable between us on Solstice night.'

She wouldn't.

'I am your mate, for fuck's sake!' Cassian shouted, loud enough for people across the river to hear. 'You are my mate! Why are you still fighting it?'

She let the truth, voiced at last, wash over her.

'You promised me forever on Solstice,' he said, voice breaking. 'Why is one word somehow throwing you off that?'

'Because with that one word, the last scrap of my humanity goes away!' She didn't care who saw them, who heard. 'With that one stupid word, I am no longer human in any way. I'm one of you!'

He blinked. 'I thought you wanted to be one of us.'

'I don't know what I want. I didn't have a choice.'

'Well, I didn't have a choice in being shackled to you, either.'

The declaration slammed into her. Shackled.

He sucked in a breath. 'That was an incredibly poor choice of words.'

'But the truth, right?'

'No, I was angry- it's not true.'

'Why? Your friends saw me for what I was. What I am. The mating bond made you stupidly blind to it. How many times did they warn you away from me, Cassian?' She barked a cold laugh.

Shackled.

Words beckoned, sharp as knives, begging for her to grab one and plunge it into his chest. Make him hurt as much as that one would hurt her. Make him bleed.

But if she did that, if she ripped into him... She couldn't. Wouldn't let herself do it.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“When I threw the stick at Jamie, I hadn't intended to hit him with it. But the moment it left my hand, I knew that's what was going to happen. I didn't yet know any calculus or geometry, but I was able to plot, with some degree of certainty, the trajectory of that stick. The initial velocity, the acceleration, the impact. The mathematical likelihood of Jamie's bloody cheek.

It had good weight and heft, that stick. It felt nice to throw. And it looked damn fine in the overcast sky, too, flying end over end, spinning like a heavy, two-pronged pinwheel and (finally, indifferently, like math) connecting with Jamie's face.

Jamie's older sister took me by the arm and she shook me. Why did you do that? What were you thinking? The anger I saw in her eyes. Heard in her voice. The kid I became to her then, who was not the kid I thought I was. The burdensome regret. I knew the word "accident" was wrong, but I used it anyway. If you throw a baseball at a wall and it goes through a window, that is an accident. If you throw a stick directly at your friend and it hits your friend in the face, that is something else.

My throw had been something of a lob and there had been a good distance between us. There had been ample time for Jamie to move, but he hadn't moved. There had been time for him to lift a hand and protect his face from the stick, but he hadn't done that either. He just stood impotent and watched it hit him. And it made me angry: That he hadn't tried harder at a defense. That he hadn't made any effort to protect himself from me.

What was I thinking? What was he thinking?

I am not a kid who throws sticks at his friends. But sometimes, that's who I've been. And when I've been that kid, it's like I'm watching myself act in a movie, reciting somebody else's damaging lines.

Like this morning, over breakfast. Your eyes asking mine to forget last night's exchange. You were holding your favorite tea mug. I don't remember what we were fighting about. It doesn't seem to matter any more. The words that came out of my mouth then, deliberate and measured, temporarily satisfying to throw at the bored space between us. The slow, beautiful arc. The spin and the calculated impact.

The downward turn of your face.

The heavy drop in my chest.

The word "accident" was wrong. I used it anyway.”
― David Olimpio, This Is Not a Confession

“No one wants to get into an argument with a partner who can repeat back what they said word for word."
"I hope you're not referring to me." Jack made a mark on the graph he'd drawn in his notebook. "I didn't make any promises."
"Of course not," I snapped. "You didn't have time for promises. You were too busy running out the door with your ass hanging out of your pants.”
― Sara Desai, To Have and to Heist

“If have the gift of prophesy, all wisdom and knowledge and have no love, I have failed to manifest my true soul.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita, Pearls of Wisdom: Great mind

“If a couple can’t argue well, nor will they be able to live together well.”
― Donna Goddard, Love's Longing