Richelle Mead: Frases en inglés (página 8)

“Can't you… I don't know. Find a hobby or something?"
"Being charming is my hobby," said Adrian obstinately. "I'm the life of the party— even without drinking. I wasn't meant to be alone.”

“Because it gives him and excuse to be around her--without making it look like he gave in first. That way, he can still seem manly."

"That's ridiculous." Especially the part about Christian being manly.

"Guys do ridiculous things for love.”

“I supposed if you were going to make a career of breaking laws, you might as well know them.”

“Throughout history, people with new ideas—who think differently and try to change things—have always been called troublemakers.”

“Adrian stood there leaning against the doorframe, watching me with his heart in his eyes. In my chest, my own heart was breaking. On my cheek, the lily reminded me who I was.”

“You're better than this. Better than whatever it is you're going to do now.”

“At the same time, we both pulled back briefly still oh so close. Everything in the word rested on that moment.
"We can't…" He told me.
"I know," I agreed.
Then his mouth was on mine again, and this time I knew there would be no turning back.”

“My cigarettes and I are going outside. At least they show me respect.”

“I realized I’m in love. It's always been right in front of me.”

“No, thank you," said Adrian. "These hands don't sully themselves with fighting.”

“You have an interesting set of morals," he observed. "Breaking out of jail is okay. But steal a car, and you sound totally outraged.”

“I'm glad you're better," he said. His mouth sounded like it was almost in my hair, just above my my ear. "When I saw you fall…"
"You thought, 'Wow, she's a loser.”

“Okay," I said, clasping her hand. "I swear it. The next time I do something stupid that might get me killed, you can come along.”

“Okay, so. You, Belikov, the Alchemist, Sonya Karp, Victor Dashkov, and Robert Doru are all hanging out in West Virginia together.”
“No,” I said.
“No?”
“We’re, uh, not in West Virginia.”

“You made your own jean shorts… with a butter knife?”

“Is Adrian here?”
“Who?”
“Adrian. Tall. Brown hair. Green eyes.”
She frowned. “Do you mean Jet?”
“I … I’m not sure. Does he smoke like a chimney?”
The girl nodded sagely. “Yup. You must mean Jet.”

“For once, you're going to hear something that doesn't fit into your neat, compartmentalized world of order and logic and reason.”

“You see something you like?”

“Rose? Is that you?" I peered behind him. Lissa. "What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" She asked
"Ladies, ladies" he said teasingly. "No need to fight over me."
I glared. "We're not.”