You think her innocent/ Your little lost girl/ Caped in Inquisition red/ Yet when she leads you hunting Hyde/ Mind don't slay Jekyll in his stead
They lost Olivia at Newport Beach. The panic made Alice hyperventilate. You were meant to be watching her, Nick kept saying. As if that were the point. That Alice had made a mistake. Not that Olivia was missing, but that it was Alice's fault.
As I spoke of another's love and looked into the wide, blue windows of her soul, a rich, insistent yearning flooded my senses. --"Tango
You are my star and you have made me see,” he tells her, “and I am the air beneath your wings, never rending, never ending.
I left this conversation hours ago, but somehow my mouth is still moving, words are still forming, and none have seemed to offend. Amazing, the mind. My mind, I mean. Not hers.
She looked at her hand: Just some hand, holding a cheap pen. Some girls’ hand. She had nothing to do with that hand. Let that hand do whatever it wanted to.
What have you done to your hair?” Mom’s broken voice said, pinning me back to this tiny hospital room. “Holy shit!” Icka patted her head as if searching. “You think the nurse stole it? She looked shady.
He turned, as he spoke, a peculiar look in her direction, a look of hatred unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul.
I have been abandoned by people I did not want to leave me and I have deserted people who begged me to stay. Yep…you definitely reap what you sow.
You can call it innocence, or you can call it gullibility, but Celia made the most common mistake of the good-hearted: she assumed that everyone else was just like her.
There's a problem with marrying up. You always worry that someday they'll see through you and leave. Or, worse yet, someone better will come along and take her. In my case, it wasn't someone. And it wasn't something better.
Never believe a man’s claim that he has to harm his partner in order to protect her; only abusers think this way.
There's plenty more fish in the sea than Prince Jonathan," he told her softly. "And this particular fish loves you with all his crooked heart." -George to Alanna
What a face this girl possessed!—Could I neither die then nor gaze at her face every day, I would need to recreate it through painting or sculpture, or through fatherhood, until a second such face could be born.
...I could feel her burrowing into my heart. I didn't know if the burrowing was like a kitten cuddling up to its mother or if it was like a chigger depositing its larvae underneath the skin of my ankles.
Her fingers moved among barnacles and mussels, blue-black, sharp-edged. Neon red starfish were limp Dalis on the rocks, surrounded by bouquets of stinging anemones and purple bursts of spiny sea urchins.
In the purest sensual and intimate act of lovemaking, there is a give and take, and both partners actively choose among and agree to the expressions. In reciprocal lovemaking, a woman is equally satisfied and drives the experience just as much as her...
Women Are Not Roses Women have no beginning only continual flows. Though rivers flow women are not rivers. Women are not roses they are not oceans or stars. i would like to tell her this but i think she already knows.
Halfway down the aisle, Jamie suddenly seemed to tire, and they stopped while she caught her breath...It was, I remembered thinking, the most difficult walk anyone ever had to make. In every way, a walk to remember.
The spectator-buyer is meant to envy herself as she will become if she buys the product. She is meant to imagine herself transformed by the product into an object of envy for others, an envy which will then justify her loving herself.
I love you," she said, and I knew she meant it because she spoke the words from the heart at the center of her chest. This, at least, had not been left behind at the hospital.
