I couldn’t peel my eyes off her face or her body. Even if she had asked me not to follow her, I would have followed anyway. I was in a Norah state of mind.
You’re scaring the dog,” Trish pointed out. She rarely called me by name. They do that in prisoner of war camps, I’ve heard. Depersonalization.
Seduced her? Every time I turned round she was up a library ladder. In the end I gave in. That reminds me—I spotted something between her legs that made me think of you.
It was an obsession, it was a compulsion. "The way to banish temptation is to give into it," the saying went. Maybe if she experienced a gangbang, it wouldn't be such a big deal, and would no longer be the focus of her sexual imagination.
This, she realizes, is the basis of all fear. That a light you are powerless to stop will turn on you and usher a bullet to its mark.
The only pride of her workday was not that it had been lived, but that it had been survived. It was wrong, she thought, it was viciously wrong that one should ever be forced to say that about any hour of one's life.
A rumble gurgled through the space between them. "Was that you?" She looked down. "Was that me?" "That noise. It sounded like a growl." Well according to you, I am a ferocious car burglar.
He flipped back the covers. “Come here, I want to show you something.” She raised a brow impishly, “You still have moves I haven’t seen? Impressive.
Faith for her was habit and family loyalty, a reverence for the Bible which was also literary, admiration for her mother and father. And then that thrilling quiet of which she had never felt any need to speak.
take words and make them useful,' she told me. 'drain them of all the crappy meanings they used to mean and make them mean something useful instead.
You didn’t,” she said in a resolute voice. “And you won’t in the future, because with each purging of your soul, your anger will subside until the only release you’ll need will be in my arms.
Here, eat this. The chicken gives it protein and I got them to hold the bacon bits." We'd watched on cable last week, so I knew it'd be at least a month before she would eat pork again.
Are you one of my students?’ She laughed again. ‘No. No. GCSE maths was enough for me. I hated it.’ This angered me. ‘Hated it? How can you hate mathematics? Mathematics is everything.
Frailty, thy name is woman!— A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears:—
She had never known that ice could take on so many shades of blue: sharp lines of indigo like the deepest sea, aquamarine shadows, even the glint of blue-green where the sun struck just so.
He left her. She was dissatisfied with him. He had preferred to incur her anger rather than cause her pain. He had kept all the pain for himself.
Rita looked as though she would have liked nothing better than to seize the paper umbrella sticking out of Hermione's drink and thrust it up her nose.
A day will come when a woman will be elected to the top of the pyramid, to be a prime minister or a president, and the whole world will know her and hear about her. She may be sitting here amongst us.
She didn't know that all her life would be spent gambling with the stark rigidity of words, words that were coin: save, spend and all the time George with his own counter had found her a way out.
And when he got home he started on Mumma. He hated her then, because in her fatness and untidiness and drabness she reminded him of what he himself was when he was sober.
A woman's destiny, they say, is not fulfilled until she holds in her arms her own little book.
