His eyes burned with intensity. I wondered briefly if someone he knew was being held in that cold room that smelled like death. Someone he loved?
Sabine used to maintain that preparation for a dance is comparable to what goes on in the back room of a butcher's shop: the meat for consumption is sliced and dressed and put in nice little paper packages, ready for the kitchen.
I know one thing about men," Bunny says with finality, leaving the room to check on A. "They never die when you want them to.
The pillow whistled across the room and smacked him in the face. Nicolas smiled, satisfied. If he was going to die, this was the man he wanted to die beside.
Maybe if the empty space inside her was filled with love there'd be no room for sad and dark things.
Grief was like a newborn, and the first three months were hard as hell, but by six months you'd recognized defeat, shifted your life around, and made room for it.
Fear gripped her like hands around the neck, the way it could only happen in an unfamiliar room in the pitch black of night.
"The less random stuff you hear about, the more room in your ears for music, that's what I always say" -Paisley
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those winter Saturdays all alike.
The night of my accident, when I opened my eyes and you were there? Seeing you again, Rebecca...It was like someone let the air back into the room.
Some man would come to her room. Maybe she would hesitate, and he'd grab her, pin her to the mattress, force her to cooperate.
Evil people can still keep promises. Many have done just that, girl, though they are usually not promises you ‘rational’ people wish them to keep.
She wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps, or maybe quiet conversations in candlelit rooms, or perhaps something as simple as not being second.
The minute you get a religion you stop thinking. Believe in one thing too much and you have no room for new ideas.
You little subs make me nervous. Being around you is too much like walking into a room filled with tiny kittens and trying not to step on one.
Let life be the foundation. Be brave. Wander deep inside yourself to the little room no one knows about. Fling the door wide open and write.
What’s next? The size of my cock?” “Hey, even pencils can get the job done—I’ve heard the moaning from your room to prove it.
It was strange walking through the empty apartment. My battered purple room was gone, Brittany’s bruised blue was gone. Two coats covered everything. It was like none of it had ever happened.
The door that closed kept us from entering a room, but what now lies before us is the rest of reality.
When you understand who you are by knowing what God created you to do, you have no room for becoming jealous over what someone else is doing.
You think horror enters spectacularly. It doesn't. It just prosaically turns up. Even in the first seconds you know you'll find it a room.
