And she never could remember; and ever since that day what Lucy means by a good story is a story which reminds her of the forgotten story in the Magician's Book.
Something potent, something that fused them together, that made her beginning entwine with his end, passed between them. He'd marked her his. And she didn't want to fight it.
CUSTOMER: I don’t know why she wants it, but my wife asked for a copy of The Dinosaur Cookbook. BOOKSELLER: The Dinah Shore Cookbook?
This was getting bloody ridiculous, he thought savagely. If she became any more adorable, endearing, or delectable, something was going to get broken. Most likely his heart.
Wow. This place looks classy. The smell of fertilizer and rot is really in this season. Remind me, what are we doing here?” she asked looking at him with a coy smile. “Did we come for bait?
To her surprise, Lucky tilted his head and looked her in the eye, appearing oddly…crestfallen, she thought. “Don’t be nervous,” he said. “I hate making you nervous.
She could see that to lose a sibling was hard: it could only seem unnatural:out of time, out of order, a vicious re-run of your own departure into nothingness.
My mum translated this in her head to "witchfinder," which was good because like most West Africans, she considered witchfinding a more respectable profession than policeman.
For I chase but one hind, he says, one strange deer timid and wild, and she leads me off the paths that other men have trod, and by myself into the depths of the wood.
You cannot penalize a man for one slip. Then she lay wondering about the word slip. When you slip, you fall, but maybe it is not such a sore fall because you have slipped.
India has always had a strange way with her conquerors. In defeat, she beckons them in, then slowly seduces, assimilates and transforms them.
She wants another spin on the wheel of fortune? This was always my problem with her: I could never tell the difference between the feeling of love and the feeling of danger.
But now, here she was, very wishful to pray, while not knowing how to explain her dilemma: ‘I’m terribly unhappy, dear, unprobable God—’ would not be a very propitious beginning.
As far as she could see, children mostly argued, shouted, ran around very fast, laughed loudly, picked their noses, got dirty and sulked.
Nothing can dwindle to nothing, as Nature restores one thing from the stuff of another, nor does she allow a birth, without a corresponding death.
Well I am young." Just as he felt a flicker of ease, she murmured in a sexy voice, "But, baby, I've been busy.
A witch ought never to be frightened in the darkest forest, Granny Weatherwax had once told her, because she should be sure in her soul that the most terrifying thing in the forest was her.
Whenever she turned her steep focus to me, I felt the warmth that flowers must feel when they bloom through the snow, under the first concentrated rays of the sun.
Always learn poems by heart,' she said. 'They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like fluoride in the water, they'll make your soul impervious to the world's soft decay.
Every person has the right to be loved in the way she/he wants to be loved. Making love is not something you do to someone; making love is something you share.
He pulled out a dagger from ... she wasn't sure where. Did he have that in his loin cloth? What else does he have in there? (Amy's thoughts, The Witching Pen)
