It made him feel like less of a man. And given how much less of a man he’d felt the past several weeks, that was really saying something. He was surprised someone from the Man Club hadn’t come by to revoke his dick and balls.
And I watched the first man I ever kissed walk away from me forever. My heart full of nothing but regret, my brain full of nothing but reassurance that I was making the right choice, and my voice, completely void of any will to call him back.
Had mankind listened to the Creator when he advised his children to never create his image, or give him a name, then humanity would not be so confused and divided in believing that every faith is worshiping a different god.
I feel claimed and bonded to him like animals do. I feel like I've already been caught and trapped and he's merely priming me, leaving me to simmer in my juices, anxiously waiting for the moment when he takes his first bite of me.
Over the years, I have been subjected to many indignities, all for the sake of Art. If I ever catch him, I'm going to kill the guy.
Damoder climbed slowly to his feet. 'Buy lot!' he wheedled, 'I am poor man. I sell you cheap. I am bank-Rupert! Apparently the only things that could save him from bank-rupertcy were our dollars.
Did you see her again in France?" I asked him.” “No. When I got to France, she was already dead. She committed suicide ...” “Why?” “She often told me she was frightened of getting old...
He still loved her—and every moment that he didn’t have her hurt him deeply. That was why he’d spent the past nine days with a shadow of her soul, why he’d sought to reset the entire universe to have her back.
Be a wife of whom he can make no complaint, Margaret. That is the best advice I can give to you. You will be his wife; that is to be his servant, his possession. He will be your master. You had better please him.
I wanted to thank Trent, but all I could do was give him a faint smile before I lost consciousness. Everything had worked flawlessly. I had planned the perfect murder - my own.
I assigned him to help me trim the Brussels sprouts, but instead he kept trying to throw them away when he thought I wasn’t looking. “Brussels sprouts, Grace, really? These are our friends. Why are you doing this to them?
He got out of bed and peeped through the blinds. To the east and opposite to him gardens and an apple-orchard lay, and there in strange liquid tranquility hung the morning star, and rose, rilling into the dusk of night the first grey of dawn. The str...
What do you think of the old boy?" said Jean. "He's got a strangely sunny view of ten years of defeat", said Locke, "but if I get killed in the next six weeks, I want him to speak at my funeral.
She's fine," said Declan, defensive. "You're fine, right?" She gave him a look. "Peachy." "See? Both Alex and her astounding wit have made it here intact. Her sense of humour seems to be M.I.A, but I'm pretty sure that was a pre-existing condition.
The fact that you don't hate him for this breaks my heart. And if we weren't leaving because of what they'd done to you, we'd be leaving because the pack has twisted you enough to make you think that it's okay for someone to treat you that way.
Casey doesn't trust him." "Casey doesn't trust anyone," I replied. "He's paranoid like that. I mean, come on, he's a werewolf who installed a nanny cam in his kids' room." I pointed my spoon at Ali for emphasis. "A nanny cam.
Harry sometimes wished that Lucille and Trinket could swap personalities; he thought Lucille was prettier, but Trinket rarely gave him any shit, which was nice.
Adrian Mole's diary Easter Poor Jesus, it must have been dead awful for him. I wouldn't have the guts to do it myself.
It was a sickening, humbling, maddeningly powerless sensation this watching them and waiting for them to come to him. For the time they could be a family again. But Mickey did it like one’s tongue pointlessly finds a mouth sore over and over again,...
There is something more powerful than any army. Something strong enough to topple kings, and even Darklings. Do you know what that thing is?” I shook my head, inching away from him. “Faith,” he breathed, his black eyes wild. “Faith.
The smell of her hair lingered just out of reach of his memory and left him with a nervous hum resonating throughout his body like a child forced to sit in church while the sun was shining outside on a perfectly good summer's day.
