N.M. Kelby Famous Quotes
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He closed his eyes and tried to remember the taste of snow apples. When he was a child, there was a gnarled tree of them behind his father's blacksmith shop. His mother would always pick them but there were never enough for more than a single tart. Spicy and yet sweet, like McIntosh, but the flesh was so impossibly white, pristine, and the juice was so abundant, that it was like no other apple he had ever tasted.
The human heart is a wild and bruised beast and often acts accordingly.
When a writer puts words on paper, it is an intimate act. The reader hears your words in his voice and he becomes the bones of your story. The reader is the foundation that you wrap in muscle and sinew. You build the hero on the reader's delicate frame until your story is his story. Your sorrow is his; your joy is a communion you both celebrate.
And he was forever hers. No matter whom he loved, or was loved by, the shadow of her always remained.
A well-told story, true or not, reminds you that, yes, the world is an exotic and magical place, and yes, it can be yours for a price. Enchantment always has a price--and sometimes the cost is love.
That odd alchemy of married love - passion, betrayal, fury, kindness, and companionship - lay there exposed between them.
Her heart beat with the rattle of broken wings.
