Your whole world ceases to exist and you're nothing but a shell of a person you once were. Your mom has dealt with it her way, me in mine, and you in yours," he said, lifting his hand off of John's gravestone and rising. "Your mom hates the world, I ...
Things separate from their stories have no meaning. They are only shapes. Of a certain size and color. A certain weight. When their meaning has become lost to us they no longer have even a name. The story on the other hand can never be lost from its ...
We pull our boots on with both hands but we can't punch ourselves awake and all I can do is stand on the curb and say Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine. I couldn't get the boy to kill me, but I wore his jacket for the longest ti...
Hi,' he says. 'Hi,' she says back, and then to her great surprise, she begins to cry. 'You know,' Nick says as he hands her a tissue from the bedside table,' for all this talk about how you don't cry, you sure are sprouting a lot of water.
With hand gestures, you can fill in a lot of gaps, and the words thing and stuff and -ness also help: patientness instead of patience, fastness instead of speed, honestness instead of honesty. With these choices, many words can be indicated, and poin...
Queenie, herself again, took hold of Maddie’s hand and squeezed it tightly. She walked all the way back across the airfield without letting it go. Maddie closed her eyes and flew again in the ethereal pale green light. She knew she would never let ...
She drank in the sight of him, the power, the virility, the sheer sexiness. She knew just how well those lips of his kissed, how gentle and coaxing his hands could be, and how mouth-watering his body was.
He cups my face with both hands leans in, eyes lingering a sweet second before his lips are there on mine, teasing, playing, tasting, kissing. When he pulls away, I'm breathless. He nuzzles my ear. "Now that's thrilling." You got that right.
A dragon just gave me a piece of jewelry,” she said. She took another swig and handed the bottle back to Graydon. “Have I been added to his hoard?” He shook his head and drank too. “No, cupcake,” he said. “I’m pretty sure you’ve repla...
...some people become hypercritical when stressed. Then again, he hadn't been stressed last week. She giggled, remembering how he'd instructed her on the proper way to fold hand towels. Talk about nitpicky. Perhaps this would be a good time to call i...
The real inferiority of women to men is shown by their hate of , which they regard as unfair competition. Men on the other hand rather approve of , as saving them trouble & expense. — . 1929-03-09 diary entry.
They had fallen into that instant, easy friendship which feels as though it had begun before any of your memories and will last until you are so old that the humped veins on the back of your hands show dark blue-purple through your wax-white skin.
People are dying out there, and I’m not faring much better.” “Worrying about the demise of anonymous people won’t bring them back.” Pursing my lips, I planted a hand on a hip. “How very demon of you.” “Thank you.” “That wasn’t a...
Nick snatches the picture from the man's hand and laughs. "This is funny to you, asshole?" Nick tosses the picture back behind him. "No. No, it's not. What is funny is that you believe your whore of a wife." "Stand up your spineless punk!" The man ye...
They departed in the form of white smoke, rose easily upward, waved their hands in parting, and viewed with pity all those who remained behind. Then they danced gaily in celebration of their new freedom, before disintegrating into the air.
Work is a blessing. God has so arranged the world that work is necessary, and He gives us hands and strength to do it. The enjoyment of leisure would be nothing if we had only leisure. It is the joy of work well done that enables us to enjoy rest, ju...
... what I'm doing in here isn't all that different from what I was doing outside. I'll hand you a pretty cynical axiom: the amount of financial help an individual or company needs rises in direct proportion to how many people that person or business...
Four flips the gun in this hand, presses the barrel to Peter's forehead, and clicks a bullet into place. Peter freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth. "Wake. Up," Four snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it.
Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up. I've seen it. It's fascinating." He releases me but doesn't pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just...want to see it again. Want to see you awake.
So... Boris. Are you evil?' [said the Doctor]. 'Not at all, my dear sir,' chuckled Boris. 'You just chuckled,' groaned the Doctor. 'Chuckling's a dead givaway in my books. Along with putting your hands on your hips and snogging another man's wife.
I had never realized a woman could have to struggle to keep her hands off a man, but here I was, digging my nails into my palms, staring at the inside of my eyelids as though I could maybe see through them if I peered hard enough.
