After a week, it's better. I miss her. I mourn her. But some peace has returned. She had been so unattainable - so young, so much a citizen of a different era - that it is hard to feel fully deprived.
This was the curse of the voracious reader, she realized. Real life never quite measured up to the heightened and precise contours of her literary worlds. A real war was never as true as a fictive one.
If you tell an eight-year-old she has a talent for something, she'll never give it a rest.
Fozzy was slowly realising his mistake of not having taken his friends words of warning more serious all those years ago. 'She's an expensive filly, with double standards,' he had said. Fozzy had not listened.
Keep driving," said a soft voice in my ear. "She will not bite if you keep driving." Fuck that. Fuck that idea like the fucking Captain of the Thai Fuck Team fucking at the fucking Tour de Fuck.
Incarceration is the way a woman is expected to date like a soccer goalie, shuffling back and forth to block the balls constantly flying in her direction and shamed the moment she lets one slip in her net.
In vain we roared;in vain we tried To rouse her into laughter: Her pensive glances wandered wide From orchestra to rafter - "TIER UPON TIER!" she said,and sighed; And silence followed after.
...she lost twenty minutes sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees, smiling into the pretty glow and imagining herself a contented farmer's wife waiting for her man to come in from the fields.
If you don't tell her just that, if you don't give her your heart, Aidan, if you don't bare it for her and give her the time to trust what she sees there, you'll never have her.
Maybe he was overwhelmed, like I am overwhelmed, by that mysterious intersection where love meets luck, where fate meets will. Because he'd been waiting for her. And there she was.
They laughed too, even Rose Dear shook her head and smiled, and suddenly the world was right side up. Violet learned then what she had forgotten until this moment: that laughter is serious. More complicated, more serious than tears.
She knew the soothing power of a human touch on aching flesh. Knew the strange bond that formed when two creatures united in mutual need, one hurting, the other healing.
Any requests on the kind of car?” “Something with armor?” she said. “Oooh, and headrest DVD. Bonus for surround sound.” “Rocket launchers,” Michael said. “One hot yellow Hummer with optional mass destruction package, coming up.
And she says, “Then let’s just take the effing road and get ourselves to Haven.” I smile, a little. “You said ,” I say. “You actually said the word .
As Isabel acted out her date, both of them laughing, I stayed in the kitchen, out of sight, and pretended she was telling me, too. And that, for once, I was part of this hidden language of laughter and silliness and girls that was, somehow, friendshi...
But those coins are wishes! You’re stealing other people’s wishes!” The look Matteo gave her was so flinty, she could have chipped a tooth on it. “If you have money to waste on wishes, you don’t need the wishes as badly as I need the money.
She said, "You're a warrior. So how do you kill without rage?" "In compassion. Because of necessity." Hrahima set the empty water bowl back in Samarkar's hands. "The same way you carry water.
War was right: people had to fight for what they wanted. Or maybe balance, as Famine has said -- strength matched with temperance. , she thought. . IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT CONTROL, War agreed merrily. [as in the meaning of why wars happen]
Her fingers dug into the doorframe she leaned on, hoping and praying that he would just step out of the shadows and kiss her the way he had done so often in her dreams.
She was eight years old, with the body of a child, but her spirit was weighed down by an adult suffering.
I had an absurd desire to go down to her and make sure she was all right, and stay with her until dawn. I also had a fierce wish to bludgeon the two frat boys to death with a shovel.
