Because he tells me. All the fucking time. I’m precious to him and I know it because he shows me and he tells me. It’s beautiful. It’s real. It’s right.
Day, the boy from the streets with nothing except the clothes on his back and the earnestness in his eyes, owns my heart. He is beauty, inside and out. He is the silver lining in a world of darkness. He is my light.
That's when he hit her, when he saw how scared she was. He couldn't bear it that she was frightened and asking for help. Asking for help is wrong. Because there isn't any such thing as help in this world.
Don't do this to us." He warned, his voice hoarse with angry desperation as he realize he was losing her. "You're letting eleven years of mistrust color everything you've discovered I've done".
He who causes another to become powerful ruins himself, for he brings such a power into being either by design or by force, and both of these elements are suspects to the one whom he has made powerful.
That night he ate so much spaghetti, Mom said he was in danger of turning into a big noodle, which made him laugh so hard, he fell out of his chair.
I mean, he was something that happened to me, you know? But before he was this minor figure in the drama of my life he was - you know, the central figure in the drama of his own life.
And whosoever fears Allah and keeps his duty to Him, He will make a way for him to get out (from every difficulty).And He will provide him from (sources) he never could imagine.
He was the owner of the moonlight on the ground, he fell in love with the most beautiful of the trees, he made wreaths of leaves and strung them around his neck.
He doesn’t let me argue further as he returns to his room. I pray for my sanity that he clothes himself, because the last thing I need is the image of Blake’s naked torso dripping in sweat.
Olga was better, in the sun, where he could see every pore in her skin. Get closer. Feel her next to him. It was all he wanted in the world. It was the last thing in the world that he could do.
God, if he believed in Him, and his conscience, if he had one, were the only judges to whom he was answerable.
He seemed to swallow the lie I fed him. I hope he’s not still hungry. If he is, I’ll give him the illusory dessert known as the American Dream.
I had no idea he thought he was funny, tried to be funny, or actually is funny until he made me laugh so hard I peed all over his feet at the urinal.
An anonymous man has no power, because nobody knows who he is. But he also has all the strength, because he can attack invisibly and without being identified.
Steve, on the other hand, has plenty of friends, but he wouldn't bleed for any of them, because he wouldn't trust them to bleed for him. In that way he's just as alone as me.
Take a few minutes." "No. He's already had more of my time than he was entitled to." Yes, he thought as she walked out of his office. Very much like her grandmother.
He put his sister's card in his pocket. He left home for a strange new life and carried her love with him, as he had once before.
He has never told anyone this story. He doesn't mind talking to Richard, to Rafe about his past--within reason--but he doesn't mean to give away pieces of himself.
He pulled out a dagger from ... she wasn't sure where. Did he have that in his loin cloth? What else does he have in there? (Amy's thoughts, The Witching Pen)
It was easier when all we wanted to do was eat them and take their stuff,” he grumbled. And it had been easier when he hadn’t cared if he made any of them cry.
