Put me down.” “Nope.” He held her snuggled to his bare chest, tipping her up so he could rub his cheek against hers. “I like carrying you.
Even in the darkness of the closed box she felt trapped inside, she could see light shining in through tiny holes on the lid. They were like the stars beckoning her towards a place where all would be simple . . . away from the shadows, away from the ...
Do they see the lethal insanity of a race to the brink of oblivion, and then over the edge? Apparently not. If they did, surely they wouldn't be racing to begin with. Or is it a simple failure of imagination? One doesn't like to think such a rudiment...
Achan carried Arman inside him. He was part of Arman's light. So was every man, woman and child in Er'Rets who believed. Alone, as one man, Achan could not succeed. But if all the people joined together... Because the temple of Arman was his people.
Don't get pissy with me leech." With a glare, Carrow pressed her print to his torque. "Even tapped out, I can still do a love spell to make you fall in love--with the sun.
The largest one laughed. Until Natalya's glass shard plugged his jugular. Regin aimed and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked as bullets sprayed. It was shredding their torsos like cheese, halving their bodies. "Let's this! Rock out with your cocks ou...
Tell me, if I take you to my room and put you in my bed, what do you think would happen?" "I can draw you a diagram. Hint: I'm slot B, and you're tab A.
When they passed the centaur king's cell, Volos pointed at Regin and slid his forefinger across his throat. She replied, "Hey, didn't I see you in a donkey show down in Tijuana? No? You've got a twin then--
Warlord, you once told me I'd always know what you're thinking. What are your thoughts now?" "Partly, I'm thinking that I might shame myself in my trews, just from the feel of you next to me.
For a long time things were so bad. Very bad. Dark even when there was light. The only thing that kept the dark back was the Forever Shiny Thing that was her secret... It is a word...the word hangs on a silver chain. The word is HOPE.
In any case, this is how all our stories begin, in darkness with our eyes closed, and all our stories end the same way, too, with all of us uttering some last words—or perhaps someone else’s—before slipping back into darkness as our series of u...
I'm afraid of the dark.' And his mother: 'Don't be silly. You know there's nothing to be afraid in the dark.' But he knew hte falsity of the reasoning; he knew how they taught also that there was nothing to fear in death, and how fearfully they avoid...
If there's to be damnation, she had said, let it be of my choosing, not theirs. He knew a little about damnation himself… and he had an idea that the lessons, far from being done, were just beginning.
The secret to being unafraid of the darkness is to challenge the darkness to fear you, to raise your eyes sharp to those few souls who stagger by, daring them to believe that you are not, in fact, more frightening than they are.
Sharon dropped to her knees and reached her hand over the edge. The gesture was supposed to be a sign of support. But she realized then that it was useless. His insanity was like the stream beneath the ground. It only flowed in one direction, into de...
Life is fair. We all get the same nine-month shake in the box, and then the dice roll. Some people get a run of sevens. Some people, unfortunately, get snake-eyes. Its just how the world is.
Seventy times seven" is a medicine for a healing community, not for a community with all the answers beforehand and all the appropriate punishments afterwards.
Although we may encounter dark seasons, when we're filled with joy we'll have confident expectations that the sun will soon return and dark clouds will pass.
The space between the idea of something and its reality is always wide and deep and dark. The longer they are kept apart—idea of thing, reality of thing—the wider the width, the deeper the depth, the thicker and darker the darkness.
You're going to wake up one day, and you're gonna realize he's moved on. He'll quit trying to win you back. And you'll regret it. And if there's anything The Plague taught me, it's that there isn't time for regret anymore.
As for what it's against - the story is against those who pervert and misuse religion, or any other kind of doctrine with a holy book and a priesthood and an apparatus of power that wields unchallengeable authority, in order to dominate and suppress ...
