This was her destiny, and it was a fit and proper one. She was not unwilling, but she knew this was a fateful moment, and she had a sense of doors closing behind her and the path of her life being fixed irrevocably.
Her Prince! He might not be the handsomest man on earth. Not even the richest one too but he would have the purest of the heart and soul and he will love her with the same purity throughout eternity. He would be her Prince.
When I was interviewing Beth as a potential flatmate, I asked her about her hobbies. She said she enjoyed cooking for others. I asked her when she could move in.
The loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable - that one false step involves in her endless ruin - that her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful - and that she cannot be too much guarded in her behavior towards the undeserving of the ...
For the lips of an immoral woman drip honey, and her mouth is smoother than oil; but in the end she is as bitter as wormword, sharp as a two-edged sword. Her feet go down to death, her steps lay hold of hell
Her unusual upbringing had made her worldly enough to understand that every female, no matter her genus and species, had the ability to physically coerce a male into full cooperation. And yes, she knew just the male to coerce.
She was famous, and she was insane. Her voice soared out over the audience, holding them spellbound and enraptured, delivering their hopes and fears tangled in chords and rhythm. They called her an angel, her voice a gift. She was famous, and she was...
He kissed her, and the magic that had been building up steadily around them exploded, raining down in arcs of silver fire that made her half-remember a prophecy from her dreams. Something had been set into motion.
She didn't know how to love, to give herself to someone, to out herself in someone else's keeping and take him into hers. She didn't trust anyone with her heart - or the darker places of her soul.
I won't discuss non-discussable things with her, like the sound of silence or the vertical dimensions of an awkward moment. Those sorts of things are best left unsaid, like the last time I told her I loved her.
The moment I heard her name I fell in love. Of course I fell in love with the wrong name, so I made her legally change her name to match that of my love interest.
Here's a tip. If you touch a girl, even as joke, and she pushes you off, leave... her... alone. Don't touch her. Anywhere! Just stop. Your touch does nothing but sicken her.
He found himself fighting the urge to reach out and take her chin between his thumb and forefinger. To tilt her head so that she had to look at him. So that her lips were so close to his a slight movement would—
... I felt something and vowed that if I ever got a girl I would treat her right and never be bad or dirty to her or hurt her, ever. I vowed it and had all the confidence in the world that I would keep the vow.
For two years, she and Cassie had been inseparable. And then one night, Cassie had disappeared from her bed. In her place, her abductor had left his calling card, a macabre nursery rhyme. Cassie had never come home.
She thought he might have said her name, but it was background radiation accompanying the hum in her ears and the symphony in her head— —a song of quantum mechanics and trajectory calculations and astroscience physics and where to go, where to go...
We knew that Cecilia had killed herself because she was a misfit, because the beyond called to her, and we knew that her sisters, once abandoned, felt her calling from that place, too.
Ready to hit the sack?" She choked on the last slide of her ice cream and cleared her throat, "With you?" ... "You offering?" "No! I'm not offering." She pushed to her feet and then with a softer tone added, "Are you asking?
I believe this is yours." I hand her the last dart in my hand. "And this is mine." I cup her face in my hands before she can think anything else, and I kiss her.
Mum loves me being famous! She is so excited and proud, as she had me so young and couldn't support me, so I am living her dream, it's sweeter for both of us. It's her 40th birthday soon and I'm going to buy her 40 presents.
Mrs. Dalloway raised her hand to her eyes, and, as the maid shut the door to, and she heard the swish of Lucy's skirts, she felt like a nun who has left the world and feels fold round her the familiar veils and the response to old devotions.
