Keep practicing," he told her. "Until I get it right?" she said. But he corrected her. "No. Until you don't get it wrong.
Her mouth was a gash of red, like the torn-open stomach of a sacrifice, bloody and oracular. Behind it her teeth shone sharp and white as bone.
No, she's been killing me with kindness." She pointed her finger in his face. "There's a difference, and if you didn't have her on a pedestal, you could tell the difference.
You're absolutely gorgeous. But you look too empty." Holding her gaze he slid his thumbs in to circle the rim of her opening. "Want something to fill you up?
It was as if she had reached into her own pocket and discovered a small pebble, as hard as a diamond, that she had forgotten belonged to her.
She is a beauty. She is a challenge. She is the earth. She is the nature. She is the power that keeps the balance of this world. Respect her wisdom and be intimidated by her power.
She smiles, and her eyes look as if they can see back into her memory, into all the things that have gone into making a person what they are.
Will ye be wantin’ this now, madam?” “Yes, please,” she whispered. She wanted to engrave the sight of him thus, about to make love to her, in her mind.
Elisabeth had not had her future and her parents had not had theirs, there was nothing to this so-called future which was always promised to the young.
And the more he was irritated by her basic personality, the more he was drawn to her by a harsh, bestial sensuality, illusions of a moment, which ended in hate.
she looked up at the stars and gave Tibby thanks. She didn't have to throw her thoughts far to know they reached her.
because the past was always around her and might return at any time. It prowled the world searching for her, and she knew it was growing angrier at every passing day.
He suggested devils, skulls, harsh masculine drawings. This thing was…heart poundingly good. She wanted to pluck it, and bury her face in it, and keep it in a vase by her bedside.
In March 1853 she was afflicted with a pain in the chest; her tongue seemed to be covered with a film; leeches failed to make her breathing any easier.
You, know I'm the Queen's favorite great nephew, Well, yeah I'm her only great nephew, but that's not important, I'd still be her favorite...
There wasn't a shed of doubt in her mind that he'd fulfill her every sexual fantasy and them some. But was a brief, hot affair worth losing his friendship?
Believe this," he whispered, and kissed her with the sharp, sleek kiss, the silver kiss, so swift and true, and razor sharp, and her warmth was flowing into him.
She’d found him. She’d helped him. She’d saved him. He was hers. And they’d taken him away, ripped him from her arms, literally.
Cats were not, in her experience, an animal with much soul. Prosaic, practical little creatures as a general rule. It would suit her very well to be thought catlike.
A woman's got one life: She's got to reach out and grab it with both hands, or it'll pass her by and leave nothing but a smelly old fart in her face.
Mother is fading for him, her face receding into shadows, her memory diminishing with each passing day, leaking like sand from a fist.
