Her [Odette's] eyes were beautiful, but so large they seemed to droop beneath their own weight, strained the rest of her face and always made her appear unwell or in a bad mood.
Buradaki insanların nasıl bir karaktere sahip olduklarını merak ediyorsan söyleyeyim ki, her yerde olduğundan farksız. Insan cinsi değişmez, her yerde aynıdır. Aşağı yukarı hepsi yaşamak için çalışıyorlar. Calışmaktan geriye ka...
She wanted to punch her father in his snout, but she wouldn’t. He was her father after all. True, a father whose funeral rite she planned to dance at and toast with ale, but her father just the same.
She suddenly felt herself gasping for air, as if she’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe. She rocked back in her chair and nearly fell over, then slumped against the green-covered table. The bowl fell from her fingers, shattering at her feet, br...
Then you look at her and smile a smile your dissembling face will remember until the day you die. Baby, you say, baby, this is part of my novel. This is how you lose her.
Intrigued by that enigma, he dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her.
Arcadio had seen her many times working in her parents' small food store but he had never taken a good look at her because she had that rare virtue of never existing completely except at the opportune moment.
Her exceptional beauty also helps her to keep her secrets. Most people tend to think the best of those who are blessed with beauty; we have difficulty imagining that physical perfection can conceal twisted emotions or a damaged mind.
Mr. Chan," Grace said as the wind whipped strands of her hair across her face. "What are you doing here?" She shouted over the howling wind as it lashed around them. "Catering," the old man said flashing her a toothy gold grin.
You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite.
She was my friend and I loved her and relied on her, even though there were days when her moodiness and fragility frightened me, because they reminded me of my own tenuous grasp on life.
She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on his mouth. Name. He wanted her name. She had to think about it for a second before she remembered. Great. She must have hit her head. Which, duh, explained the headache.
She wanted to stay out there, to hang on her branch in the world until the cold had burned down to her bones. She could leave her whitened bones scattered on the snow and depart like light. Whitened bones. A whited sepulcher.
A pulse. Beat-beating against her palm. Alive. Beat by beat the bottomless whirlwind of perceptions and data and images and sensations careening through her mind—so many how can this tiny skull hold them all—began to abate in time to the rhythm o...
She says he says, but she could be lying to me, and he could be lying to her, so I can’t believe her, even if I could believe her.
He couldn’t read her these days; it was as though she’d been taken away from him, and in her place some alien had dropped a figure that looked like Alice, but was a cheap imitation of her with half the emotions missing or malfunctioning.
I had a hot date last night. Things were going well so I took her back to her house, dropped her off, and went home to masturbate.
There were times Ruma felt closer to her mother in death than she had in life, an intimacy born simply of thinking of her so often, of missing her. But she knew that this was an illusion, a mirage, and that the distance between them was now infinite,...
Dana’s window? More like her snow globe, Janice thought. She pictured Dana standing in a tiny glass-enclosed world, snow gently falling around her. Her world could be shaken but never broken. She was far too insulated.
Elias could not have prepared himself for the moment that he walked into that cottage and laid his eyes on her. Her emerald green eyes--the way they gazed upon him like there were no surroundings or time or sounds to distract her, like he was all tha...
A singer who refused to sing, a friend who wasn't her friend, someone who was hers and yet would never be hers. Kestrel looked away from Arin. She swore to herself that she would never look back
