Okay, I’ve got the hidden microphones with GPS here,” Agent Bounter said. “Let’s get one on you.” “Now, sir?” “The Russians are on the radar. It’s time.” As Bounter turned to pick up the tiny button-size microphone, Grant clenc...
Sometimes no matter how far off course your ship has sailed in the seas of life... it becomes obvious that you must turn around and sail in the right direction. Sometimes it will be a higher calling and mandatory to save your life.
While they were speaking of - in their opinion - great things, around about them only little things - also in their opinion - were happening: everywhere the bushes were turning green, the brooding earth was germinating and beginning to play with her ...
Whenever someone acts one way in public - goes overboard, if you know what i mean - it'll turn out they have an opposite side. The quietest person will have the worst temper. The happiest person will suffer the worst depressions. The best thing about...
What am I to you?’ Sophiel smiled. ‘The sun. You are my sun, like Astrid said. My sun, that lights up my life. That looks after me with its fiery rays. I only have to turn towards it for it to set fire to my heart.
TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY. Not true. Today is another day. We have no idea what tomorrow is going to be. It might turn out to be another day, but we can't be sure. If it happens, I'll be the first to say so. But, you know what? By that time, it'll be t...
Summer turns and marches away, fed up with being handled like a child. Like she’s a glass doll that might break at any minute. She hasn’t been a child since the day she was whipped into muteness. Anxiety might strangle her sometimes, but she’s ...
I will believe that the battle of feminism is over, and that the female has reached a position of equality with the male, when I hear that a country has allowed itself to be turned upside-down and led to the brink of war by it...
A layer of fine powder coats his skin. “My lungs are turning to concrete,” Rob wheezes, hacking and spitting. “So are my eyes. How do I always get roped into these things?” Avery coughs and pats Rob’s back in sympathy. A poof of dust billow...
Noelle slid up Rachel's body and turned her face with a gentle hand on her cheek. "Ace has to make his choice," she murmured, stroking Rachel's lips. "He doesn't get to lock you away from pleasure because he's all tangle up. You're made for joy.
It is a pity that there are no big creatures to prey on humanity. If there were enough dragons and rocs, perhaps mankind would turn its might against them. Unfortunately man is preyed upon by microbes, which are too small to be appreciated.
What they discovered was that not only fish, but spiders and many insects can taste their food by the structures that are most likely to first come in contact with the food. And this in many invertebrate species turns out to be the feet.
A blanket could be used like so many poor people get used and then thrown away like a sack of baloney that’s started to turn green. It’s sad really, when you consider all the sandwiches that could have been made out of all those poor people.
Some words were made up without any thought given. Nice is one of them. Nice has no meaning. Nice gets thrown out there to replace something meaningful. Take Goodreads and turn it into Nicereads. This goes to show that nice provides no justice.
I turned to Dionysus. "You cured him?" "Madness is my specialty. It was quite simple." "But...you did something nice. Why?" He raised and eyebrow. "I am nice! I simple ooze niceness, Perry Johansson. Haven't you noticed?
I huffed out a deep breath. “It’s something huge, isn’t it?” Beezle nodded. “Yup.” There was a sound of several limbs splashing in the water. “Is it all squishy and tentacly?” “Yup.” “I hate my life,” I said, and as I turned I...
In most respects a pretty standard student domicile, there was something very unnerving about the apartment, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Eventually I realized: the light in the bathroom never turns off.
When reading a book, one hopes it doesn’t turn into a painful process. Predictable is bad enough. Laborious is acceptable if the labor produces fruit. But with painfully bad writing, all one can do is grab a hatchet, slice off its head, and bury it...
I’ve wanted you since the moment you first turned up here four months ago,” he whispered, “I have to have you.
As I came down the stairs, all attention turned from the girls, and everyone looked to me as though this were some sort of drama taking place on a stage, and I was the scorned lover come to confront my erstwhile beloved. I was not. I was just a whore...
I have no doubt that they'll tell you a lot of kind things about me when my back is turned. They may not have been behind the door when God passed out the pretty faces, but Heaven only knows where they were when He divided up the gratitude.
