He gave his life to save the thing that mattered most to him: his Clanmates,” he meowed softly. “He truly has the stars at his paws now. You will see him again, when it is time.
He realized, you see, that he was stupid enough to fall in love with a woman he never saw with his eyes, but that's okay, my dear, because the heart doesn't need eyes to fall in love.
Rather he consoled himself with the fact that, in the real world, when he looked closely into the darkness he might find the presence of a light, damaged and bruised, but a little light all the same.
He had short hair. The technical term is bald. I’m sure he would have made a better lover if he were wearing a Donald Trump wig.
God, he suddenly understood, was love in its purest form, and in these last months with his children, he had felt His touch as surely as he had heard the music spilling from Ronnie's hands.
I asked you a question. What are you doing here?" Resting his elbows on the side of the tub, he smiled lazily. She hated it when he smiled lazily. "Waiting for the bubbles to evaporate," he said.
Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.
He lunged for the maps. I grabbed the chair and hit him with it. He went down. I hit him again to make sure he stayed that way, stepped over him, and picked up the maps. "I win.
This boy wore the ocean in his eyes, green-gray-blue, ever shifting, and I recognized him immediately. Knew before he said another word that he was as dangerous as he was beautiful.
He no longer grasped to a strong sense of self. To him life felt more like a dream, a cascade of cause and effect that was completely up for grabs—and he was no longer separate from any of it. Because of that, he could do amazing things.
I have this beast. He comes and goes at will. Silence. He's very powerful. Silence. He has control over me. Silence. I want to come and go at will. Silence. I want to be the powerful one.
Directly beneath the Lotus Pond of Paradise lay the lower depths of Hell, and as He peered through the crystalline waters, He could see the River of Three Crossings and the Mountain of Needles as clearly as if He were viewing pictures in a peep-box.
The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want for nothing. He makes me lie down in the green pastures. He greases up my head with oil. He gives me kung-fu in the face of my enemies. Amen
Oooo...He's being a saucy motherfu*ker tonight. He does wrong and I'm the one who gets treated like the whore of Babylon. Fine, he wants a show I'll give him a damn show.
Talk to me. Say something, anything," he pleaded quietly as if he was trying to tame a wild animal. "There's nothing to say." He looked up and lowered his eyebrows on his eyes. "Why did you kiss me?
He understood it when other kids were mean to him. It didn't bother him. He simply hated them. As long as he hated them, it didn't matter what they thought of him.
Once upon a time," he said out loud to the darkness. He said these words because they were the best, the most powerful words that he knew and just the saying of them comforted him.
Since there was nowhere else he wanted to be and no one else he wanted touching him, Drake shot Gabriel a smug look over his shoulder as he let Victoria take him wherever she wanted.
He imagined them sitting somewhere, just enjoying each other's company, her head on his chest, his arm around her. And he realized how desperately lonely he had become.
The taste for books was an early one. As a child he was sometimes found at midnight by a page still reading. They took his taper away, and he bred glow-worms to serve his purpose. They took the glow-worms away and he almost burnt the house down with ...
For him I was like the land, something to care for...well, he loved to make things grow. But he resembled the land more than me. He needed constant cultivation, or the fruit turned wild.
