Laurell Kaye Hamilton (born February 19, 1963) is an American fantasy and romance writer. She is best known as the author of two series of stories.
Maybe they know what I know, that the true way to a man's heart is six inches of metal between his ribs. Sometimes four inches will do the job, but to be really sure, I like to have six.
More sex. We must have more sex.
Most of the monsters. . . are based on some sort of mythology. Every culture and even some geographical areas have monsters and mythology that is their own.
He gave a small nod, and I smiled back, and that was it. He understood that I'd understood that he'd understood. It took us one sentence, two looks, and a nod - with another woman it would have been at least five minutes of out-loud talking. Lucky for me I spoke fluent guy.
Surely being in love doesn't cause you to lose your sense of good taste. If I ever buy a gown with sequins on it, someone just shoot me.
What does it mean when the monsters are so afraid of you that you make them cry? That maybe monster depends on which end of the gun your on, or that I was just that good at my job.
I wondered if I had offended him. I wondered if I cared.
If you’re alive, don’t move, if you’re dead, don’t worry about it.
You cannot die of grief, though it feels as if you can. A heart does not actually break, though sometimes your chest aches as if it is breaking. Grief dims with time. It is the way of things. There comes a day when you smile again, and you feel like a traitor. How dare I feel happy. How dare I be glad in a world where my father is no more. And then you cry fresh tears, because you do not miss him as much as you once did, and giving up your grief is another kind of death.
We aren't the good guys, Anita. We're the necessary guys. -Edward
Hatred is a cold fire, and it gives no warmth.
Is this a private fight, or can anyone join?
Death is the last intimate thing we ever do.
I'd made sure I knew his name. You shouldn't ask people to die for you if you don't at least know their name.
I`m not a morning person.
No such thing as a hard woman, Memphis,just soft men. With that, I turned, and the others followed me.
If I wasn't dead already, I'd said I was having a heart attack.
If I went in the cage, I was going to end up eaten alive. That was actually one of my top five ways not to die.
Worry about the things you can control; the rest will either work themselves out, or they'll kill you. Either way, no more worries.
Some wounds cut us so deep that they stop us. Stop us from letting go, from growing up, from seeing the truth.