Blood fills my mouth. Fire sears my veins. I choke back a howl. The silver knife slips--the choice is mine. I am death or life. I am salvation or destruction. Angel or demon. I am grace. I plunge in the knife. This is my sacrifice-- I am the monster.
a raped girl is bad for the family: it shows that they can’t protect their women; that they have little social standing; and that they’re not respectable. It’s worse for the victim because once a woman, or a girl—or a boy—is known as the ta...
Another of them died last night. His body was in the bazaar this morning. It lay, with a collecting bowl at its feet, on the charpoy that is reserved for those who die without money or family to bury them. He looked desiccated and his skin had the sh...
All the color had been leached from Winterfell until only grey and white remained. Theon did not know whether he ought to find that ominous or reassuring. Even the sky was grey.
There’s always been sadness hidden at the core of Hitch, but it’s never been big enough to taste. Occasionally, I’d get a whiff of it, salty on the wind, but it never pressed in between us like it does now, threatening to drown us both.
It is a well-worn truth that cops grow callous, a cliché so tattered that it is even common on television. All cops face things every day that are so gruesome, brutal, and bizarre that no normal human being could deal with them on a daily basis and ...
Arch turned and looked at Ian. The other man was fiddling with the neckline of his shirt. “You're just jealous, Ian, and wishing you had a soul mate of your own. In fact, I don't think any woman will be safe until you get one.” Ian shot him an un...
You his brother?' 'Yes, damn it!' I burst out. "And all I want is to get my hands on whoever did this to him!' 'Funny,' said a dick dryly, 'but so do we.' I didn't like him much after that. Sarcasm is out of place when a man has just been brought fac...
Red, orange and green geometric designs painted its body as well as the flimsy collar around its neck. The creature flicked its tail and blinked its deep-set eyes, apparently oblivious to their presence. "That's a yraglian lizard," Deven whispered. "...
Red, orange and green geometric designs painted its body as well as the flimsy collar around its neck. The creature flicked its tail and blinked its deep-set eyes, apparently oblivious to their presence. "That's a yraglian lizards," Deven whispered. ...
When I was little, I had this science book. There was a section on 'What would happen to the world if there was no friction?' Answer: 'Everything on earth would fly into space from the centrifugal force of revolution.' That was my mood.
The business of scepticism is to be dangerous. Scepticism challenges established institutions. If we teach everybody, including, say, high school students, habits of sceptical thought, they will probably not restrict their scepticism to UFOs, aspirin...
No wonder she was so underweight. She was desperate to please a woman that could never be pleased, in the hopes of being loved and accepted by the very person that should be giving that freely.
I'm persnickety," I confessed. "Not, incidentally, to the point of being snarly. But still. Delightful and persnickety are not a common blend." "Do you want to know why I never married?" "The question wasn't at the top of my list," I admitted. The ol...
Never invest so much in anyone romantically that you lose your head. The Buddha of casual sex, I remain detached at all costs.
There was no question to answer. He would rather die with er than live a single day more without her.
In fact, Shakespeare was right when he said ‘twice a babe once a man’. We are born into the world as helpless, weak infants, and some of us end our lives as vulnerable, frail adults, unable to speak coherently, or do even the simplest tasks.
But sometimes shame is a more powerful engine than rage. Like rage, it burns hot; and like rage it tends to consume its own furnace.
The theologian Meric Casaubon argued—in his 1668 book, Of Credulity and Incredulity—that witches must exist because, after all, everyone believes in them. Anything that a large number of people believe must be true.
Is it snowing where you are? All the world that I see from my tower is draped in white and the flakes are coming down as big as pop-corns. It's late afternoon - the sun is just setting (a cold yellow colour) behind some colder violet hills, and I am ...
It was such an unexpected and genuine smile that if I only had a soul I'm sure I would have felt quite guilty.
