E: When one has at last reached freedom, can one even contemplate going back? HC: But if it is not possible to go back, or to choose to go back, then it is not freedom! ~Ericsson; Hilary Craven
Goddammit, Pen!" Lightning lit him from behind. "That's not happening. And if you ever use magic on me again without my permission, we're done. You owe me a fucking apology for last time.
In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold; Alike fantastic, if too new, or old: Be not the first by whom the new are tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
... the rules of transcendence insist that you will not advance even one inch closer to divinity as long as you cling to even one last seductive thread of blame.
At times I felt that the universe fabricated from the power of imagination had stronger and more lasting contours than the blurred realm of the flesh-and-blood creatures around me.
My last coherent thought, as Lucas took his time kissing and touching every part of me he could reach and my body arched into his, was: oh... so this is what all the fuss is about.
Its beauty stirs the imagination, and I wonder if the last refuge of all that is truly wild lies not on earth but in light.
All stones are close to us. The last is behind us. (Toutes les pierres sont près de nous. - La dernière est derrière nous.) (The Bird and its Sun / L’Oiseau et son Soleil)
But you can't make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up around them. It can't last.
There's something about seeing people when they have just wake up--before they have a chance to put on the face they show everyone else. There's like this last hint of innocence.
For years now, I've wanted to fall asleep. The sort of slipping off, the giving up, the falling part of sleep. Now sleeping is the last thing I want to do.
Poverty of young men alone behind the stairways, who practice alchemy inside bottle caps, who know the altruism of a last syringe.
In my old age, I was at last being permitted to make the discovery that lovemaking gets better and better with time, if it's with someone you care for.
Seeing as this is probably my last hurrah, I don't suppose I could get you two bleeding hearts to massacre a village with me? For old time's sake. - Jackal
How Horrid" has a slightly facetious tone that strikes me as Wildean. It appears to embrace the actual horror--puberty, public disgrace--then at the last second nimbly sidesteps it, laughing.
My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends— It gives a lovely light!
Over time, any deception destroys intimacy, and without intimacy couples cannot have true and lasting love.
Let…it…go,” he whispers, his voice a fierce, harsh sound in my hair. “No. No!” The last word is screamed. “You have to. You can’t bleed it out. You can’t keep pretending, drinking it down.
People who buy the little jars and boxes aren’t staying. They only want enough to last them while they’re here.” --Ginger the Checkout girl from The Great Northern Coven
The three rules of the Librarians of Time and Space are: 1) Silence; 2) Books must be returned no later than the last date shown; and 3) Do not interfere with the nature of causality.
When at last I came upon the right book, the feeling was violent: it blew open a hole in me that made life more dangerous because I couldn't control what came through it.
