[to Mortimer] Elaine Harper: We were married today. We were going over Niagara Falls in a barrel. Your brother tries to kill me. A taxi is waiting and now you want to sleep on a window seat. You can take the honeymoon, your wedding ring, your taxi, y...
Mortimer Brewster: Now look, darling, how did he die? Abby Brewster: Oh, Mortimer, don't be so inquisitive. The gentleman died because he drank some wine with poison in it. Mortimer Brewster: Well, how did the poison get in the wine? Martha Brewster:...
Teddy Brewster: Gentlemen, what news have you brought me? Police Sgt. Brophy: [salutes] Colonel, we have nothing to report. Officer Patrick O'Hara: Huh? [Brophy elbows him and he salutes also] Officer Patrick O'Hara: Oh, no! Absolutely nothing to rep...
The connoisseur's hushed, museum-trained gaze is not well-designed for these purposes. That gaze values subtlety, complexity, ambiguity, and irony. Its most characteristic grace note is self-congratulation at being the kind of person who likes this r...
There's no way on God's green earth that I'm dressing up like Mr. Darcy." Brooks stretched out on Caroline's bed, hanging his suede wing tips off the edge and crossing his ankles. He laced his fingers behind his head and looked infuriatingly cool and...
Oh, oh. My heart starts that quivering, fluttering thing it does whenever he hints at his desire for me. Lacing his fingers through mine, he moves to close the gap between us. I know he’s only holding my hand, but it’s the manner in which his fin...
The girl had a special way of saying “anything”. The gods had blessed her voice with a special monopoly. It delivered an acoustic chocolate that was laced with all flavours of euphoria. The substance led to surges in testosterone in all types of ...
I´m just not sending out the right vibe lately. Perhaps the fact that I wear stained sweatpants and free T-shirts is holding me back. I just can´t seem to get back into the intelligent-slut-for-hire outfits that lure men; even shoes with laces evad...
Truly, more than removing the partition between vectors and values, we would have needed to talk about strengthening crisscrossed lacings: an intertwined kind of understanding that would de-ideologize 'ideologies,' desanctify sanctities, but also men...
Yes, when I get big and have my own home, no plush chairs and lace curtains for me. And no rubber plants. I'll have a desk like this in my parlor and white walls and a clean green blotter every Sunday night and a row of shining yellow pencils always ...
In my rush, I hadn’t tied my shoelaces. Noah was now tying them for me. He looked up at me through his dark fringe of lashes and smiled. The expression on his face melted me completely. I knew I had the goofiest grin plastered on my lips, and didn�...
I’d start by laying her down on my bed and undressing her. Slowly. Carefully. So she wiggled and stretched and soft pants escaped her lips. My hands would be all over her. My mouth, too. When she wore nothing but the blue scrap of lace between her ...
Whatever the unknown in Europe, it had to be better than the known in a small town, where truth was hidden behind smiles, pleasantries, and an abundance of stretch lace at weddings. Whatever, the yet-to-be-written truth about her own life, it seemed ...
My love for you is immeasurable My respect for you immense You're ageless, timeless, lace and fineness You're beauty and elegance You're a rhapsody, a comedy You're a symphony and a play You're every love song ever written But honey what do you see i...
Celestia laughed wickedly. "Danny is your BBB, silly. I’d never ask you to marry him." "BBB?" Now she had to learn abbreviations? She didn’t have the patience to deal with this tonight. "Bodyguard, Blood Bag, and cover Boyfriend." Celestia counte...
I looked inward at my heart. And indeed, there too, the criss-cross corsetry was slackened and gaping. I was all undone. Potentially, I could spill. Or tangle. And so I began to tug at my own heartstrings, pulling them up tight until there was just t...
Mortimer Brewster: I saw a play last week, it had a character in it, reminded me of Jonathon. Abby Brewster: Oh, really? Mortimer Brewster: Yeah, a honey of a lunatic. One of those whodunits called "Murder Will Out". Abby Brewster: Oh, dear! Mortimer...
Jonathan Brewster: Teddy, I think it's time for you to go to bed. Teddy Brewster: I beg your pardon. Who are you? Jonathan Brewster: I'm Woodrow Wilson. Go to bed! Teddy Brewster: No, you're not Wilson, but you're face is familiar. Let me see. You're...
Mortimer Brewster: But there's a body in the window seat! Aunt Abby: Yes, dear, we know. Mortimer Brewster: You know? Martha Brewster: Of course! Aunt Abby: Yes, but it has nothing to do with Teddy. Now, Mortimer, you just forget about it. Forget you...
The sun's champagne streamed from one body into another. And there was a couple on the green silk of the grass, covered by a raspberry umbrella. Only their feet and a little bit of lace could be seen. In the magnificent universe beneath the raspberry...
After that, a strange thing happened: Amy couldn't stop her expectations from rising. She imagined herself transformed and beautiful, like Molly Ringwald in , with her homemade dress and mysterious lace boots. She pictured her hair in an upsweep of l...
