I'm serious, Mar, I don't know how to act around him now. I can't be nice, because he'll hate that. But I can't be mean just to be nice." "You really need medication." "I'm in a quandary. A Catch-22. I'm screwed.
Blue is the most common eye color in Oria Province, but there is something different about his eyes and I'm not sure what it is. More depth? I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. If he seems to have depth to me, do I seem shallow and transparent...
This is going to be murder," Fransic whispered to Mr. Trimes. "Pure murder." "I'm glad to see your confidence returning, Mr. Tucket. Just a few minutes ago you were ready to give up. Now you're talking about killing him." "I meant it the other way." ...
Sometimes I hate him. When he does the dishes, he shakes off each one before setting it in the drying rack. Water flies everywhere. A couple of drops always hit me in the face. I have to leave the room to avoid smashing a plate against his head.
Our gifts are very pleasant to Him. He loves to see us lay our time, our talents, our substance on the altar not for the value of what we give, but for the sake of the motive from which the gift springs.
After Supper the Master dismissed all except Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie and Sha the Monk. He took them out with him and said, "Look at that wonderful moolight. It makes me long for the time when I can return home.
Such excessive preoccupation with his faults is not a truly spiritual activity but, on the contrary, a highly egoistic one.The recognition of his own faults should make a man humbler, when it is beneficial, not prouder, which the thought that he ough...
The seeker after stillness should be told that the stillness is always there. Indeed it is in every man. But he has to learn, first, to let it in and, second, how to do so. The first beginning of this is to remember. The second is to recognize the in...
Shiloh had become far too used to it; for all that she paid him no mind, the moment his sharp fangs pierced the skin on the inside of her thigh, her head lolled back against the seat and she closed her eyes. The feeling was still delectable even now.
One Nice Guy asked me, "If a man is talking in the forest and no woman is there to hear him, is he still wrong?
I'd never seen anything more beautiful -even as I ran, gasping and screaming, I could appreciate that. And the last seven months meant nothing. And it did not matter if he did not want me, I would never want anything but him, no matter how long I liv...
Fang let out a low whistle. "Anyone know that Amazons could ride a giant bird?" Ethon gave him a duh stare. "Those of us who fought them, yeah, we know. How you think they keep kicking our asses?" "Cause you're pansies. Everyone knows that.
The bond forged between us was not one that could be broken by absence, distance, or time. And no matter how much more special or beautiful or brilliant or perfect than me he might be, he was as irreversibly altered as I was. As I would always belong...
I want to touch with my mouth. His mouth, with my mouth. Maybe his neck, too. But first things first: Make him aware I exist. It’s possible that he is already aware, if only in a ‘don't step on the small girl’ kind of way.
With that, I splashed some water on my face, fixed on a smile, and stepped out. I would find Jerome. I would make him explain to me what I was missing. We would laugh, then we would kiss with tongue, and all would be well.
Soundlessly whispering into the void, my lips moving quickly, silently, without ceasing. Calling his name, calling him to me. Even though there's no use. Even though it's futile. Even though it's way past too late.
He smiled like he couldn't help it. She couldn't believe it. He was actally , teeth and all. Had she ever seen him smile before? No, she realized, because right now, it was such a jarring thing to witness that for a moment it felt as though she was s...
She held up the pen and gave him a lazy grin. "It's a rose." He came close. "It's a pen." He tried to pluck it from her hand. "You are seriously lacking in imagination.
You did it, Taylor! You did it! You got yourself a backstage pass!" He was screaming in her ear. "I did?" Great. Now the last thing on earth she wanted to do was face that Brody Gallagher backstage. She never wanted to look him in the eye again.
An apocryphal story recounts the dilhemma of a man during the Civil War who could not decide whether to join the Confederate or Union forces. Finally he put on a gray coat and blue pants, and both sides shot him.
I thought: That is the fear: I have lost something important, and I cannot find it, and I need it. It is fear like if someone lost his glasses and went to the glasses store they told him that the world had run out of glasses and he would just have to...
