An This Tell Us Everything Quotes

Lana was with me," I rushed. "I mean… I went with her. She had to go because her parents were there and - "

I was rambling and I knew it. Yet it was the blank expression on Lachlan's face that made me stop talking. His eyebrows were pinched together. Eyes scrunched as if he was trying to peer very carefully at me.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in a low voice.

I stared at him miserably; it was all I could do.

"It's me…" He pushed away part of his jacket and gripped the material of his shirt. "Lachlan. ~ Calia Read

Don't get me wrong. I'm not recommending one form of love over another. I don't know if prudent or reckless love is the better, monied or penniless love the surer, heterosexual or homosexual love the sexier, married or unmarried love the stronger. I may be tempted towards didacticism, but this isn't an advice column. I can't tell you whether or not you're in love. If you need ask, then you probably aren't, that's my only advice… But I can tell you why to love. Because the history of the world, which only stops at the half-house of love to bulldoze it into rubble, is ridiculous without it. The history of the world becomes brutally self-important without love. Our random mutation is essential because it is unnecessary. Love won't change the history of the world (that nonsense about Cleopatra's nose is strictly for sentimentalists), but it will do something much more important: teach us to stand up to history, to ignore its chin-out strut. I don't accept your terms, love says; sorry, you don't impress, and by the way what a silly uniform you're wearing. Of course, we don't fall in love to help out with the world's ego problem; yet this is one of love's surer effects.'
Love and truth, that's the vital connection, love and truth. [. . .] How you cuddle in the dark governs how you see the history of the world. ~ Julian Barnes

Mental pictures offer us an opportunity to practice new traits and attitudes, which otherwise we could not do. This is possible because again - your nervous system cannot tell the difference between an actual experience and one that is vividly imagined. ~ Maxwell Maltz

You needn't be confused about which "expert" to believe, just talk to elders around you, people who have lived in your part of the world for the past seventy or eighty years. Ask them what they remember about the air, about other species, about the water, about neighbourhoods and communities, about caring between people and the ways they communicated and entertained each other. Our elders tell us of the immense changes that have occurred in the span of a single human life; all you have to do is to project the rate of change they have experienced into the future to get an idea of what might be left in the coming decades. Is this progress? Is this way of life sustainable? ~ David Suzuki

As Psalm 136:5--9 tell us, creation was God's power expressed in love. By reading and understanding the Bible as a series of love letters to men and women, you begin to recognize the tender and mighty love of God. The Bible is not a rule book for life or a collection of fairy tales; it's a weapon of mass instruction. It's a love letter from God to humanity. It's an introduction to Jesus Christ, who is God in human form. It declares to the world: God is for you, not against you. To me, the Bible is a work of nonfiction broken into three parts: from Genesis to Malachi, it's about Jesus Christ coming to earth; from Matthew to John, it's about Jesus' life on earth; and from Acts to Revelation, it's about Jesus coming back to earth. It's all about Jesus and how we can have a relationship with the omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal, holy, and righteous Almighty. This relationship is more important than simply joining a church or doing a few good things. ~ Jase Robertson

But you must admit,it's taking up an inordinate amount of your time. Why it's taken us six months to have dinner together."
"Is that all?"
He misinterpreted the quiet response, and the gleam in her eyes.And leaned toward her.
She slapped a hand on his chest. "Don't even think about it.Let me tell you something,pal.I do more in one day with my school than you do in a week of pushing papers in that office your grandfather gave you between your manicures and amaretto lattes and soirees. Men like you hold no interest for me whatsoever,which is why it's taken six months for this tedious little date.And the next time I have dinner with you,we'll be slurping Popsicles in hell.So take your French tie and your Italian shoes and stuff them."
Utter shock had him speechless as she shoved open her door.As insult trickled in,his lips thinned. "Obviously spending so much time in the stables has eroded your manners, and your outlook."
"That's right, Chad." She leaned back in the door. "You're too good for me. I'm about to go up and weep into my pillow over it."
"Rumor is you're cold," he said in a quiet, stabbing voice. "But I had to find out for myself."
It stung,but she wasn't about to let it show. "Rumor is you're a moron. Now we've both confirmed the local gossip."
He gunned the engine once,and she would have sworn she saw him vibrate. "And it's a British tie."
She slammed the car door, then watched narrow-eyed as he drove away. "A British tie ~ Nora Roberts

THIS TORTURE
Why should we tell you our love stories
when you spill them together like blood in the dirt?
Love is a pearl lost on the ocean floor,
or a fire we can't see,
but how does saying that
push us through the top of the head into
the light above the head?
Love is not
an iron pot, so this boiling energy
won't help.
Soul, heart, self.
Beyond and within those
is one saying,
How long before I'm free of this torture! ~ Rumi

It was a wonderful experience. She mistrusted his very slumbers
and she seemed to think I could tell her why! Thus a poor mortal seduced by the charm of an apparition might have tried to wring from another ghost the tremendous secret of the claim the other world holds over a disembodied soul astray amongst the passions of this earth. The very ground on which I stood seemed to melt under my feet. And it was so simple too; but if the spirits evoked by our fears and our unrest have ever to vouch for each other's constancy before the forlorn magicians that we are, then I
I alone of us dwellers in the flesh
have shuddered in the hopeless chill of such a task. ~ Joseph Conrad

Yes,' Montriveau went on in an unsteady voice, 'this Catholic faith to which you wish to convert me is a lie that men make for themselves; hope is a lie at the expense of the future; pride, a lie between us and our fellows; and pity, and prudence, and terror are cunning lies. And now my happiness is to be one more lying delusion; I am expected to delude myself, to be willing to give gold coin for silver to the end. If you can so easily dispense with my visits; if you confess me neither as your friend nor your love, you do not care for me! And I, poor fool that I am, tell myself this, and know it, and love you! ~ Honore De Balzac

Hey!" said the guy in the video. "Greetings from your friends at Camp Half-Blood, et cetera. This is Leo. I'm the ... " He looked off screen and yelled: "What's my title? Am I like admiral, or captain, or-"
A girl's voice yelled back, "Repair boy."
"Very funny, Piper," Leo grumbled. He turned back to the parchment screen. "So yeah, I'm ... ah..supreme commander of the Argo II. Yeah, I like that! Anyway, we're gonna be sailing towards you in about, I dunno, an hour in this big mother warship. We'd appreciate it if you'd not, like, blow us out of the sky or anything. So okay! If you could tell the Romans that. See you soon. Yours in demigodishness, and all that. Peace out! ~ Rick Riordan

(Five) thinkers since Galileo, each informing his successor of what discoveries his own lifetime had seen achieved, might have passed the torch of science into our hands as we sit here in this room. Indeed, for the matter of that, an audience much smaller than the present one, an audience of some 5 or 6 score people, if each person in it could speak for his own generation, would carry us away to the black unknown of the human species, to days without a document or monument to tell their tale. ~ William James

Raven paced restlessly across the floor of the cabin, sending Jacques a little self-mocking smile. "I'm very good at waiting."
"I can see that," Jacques agreed dryly.
"Come on, Jacques" - Raven made the length of the room again, turned to face him - " don't you find this even a little bit nerve-racking?" He leaned lazily back in his chair, flashing a cocky grin.
"Being caged up with a beautiful lunatic, you mean?"
"Ha, ha, ha. Do all Carpathian males think they're stand-up comedians?"
"Just those of us with sisters-in-law who bounce off walls. I feel like I am watching a Ping-Pong ball. Settle down."
"Well, how long does something like this take? I thought he implied he'd be in and out of the hospital in two minutes, Jacques. What could have gone wrong? Mikhail was very upset."
"Mikhail did not actually say anything went wrong, did he?" Jacques asked, blankly innocent.
Raven's large blue-violet eyes settled on Jacques's face thoughtfully. Jacques squirmed under her suspicious, steady gaze. There was far too much intelligence in her enormous eyes to suit him. He held up a placating hand. "Now, Raven."
"Don't you now-Raven me. That brother of yours, worm that he is, male chauvinist unequaled in modern times, told you something he didn't tell me, didn't he?"
Leaning back with studied casualness, Jacques tipped his chair to a precarious angle and raised an eyebrow. "Women have vivid imaginations. I think you have a susp ~ Christine Feehan

I looked around for the tunic so I could leave the room; not for worlds would I go out dressed thus into the midst of a lot of staring Renselaeus warriors.
Unless Galdran has won! The terrible thought froze me for a moment, but then I looked down at that fire and realized that if Galdran had beaten us, I'd hardly be in such comfortable surroundings again. More likely I'd have woken in some dungeon somewhere, with clanking chains attached to every limb.
I held my head in my hands, trying to get the strength to stand; then my door opened, thrust by an impatient hand. Branaric stood there, grinning in surprise.
"You're awake! Healer said you'd likely sleep out the day."
I nodded slowly, eyeing his flushed cheeks and overbright eyes. His right arm rested in a sling. "You are also sick," I observed.
"Merrily so," he agreed, "but I cannot for the life of me keep still. Burn it! Truth to tell, I never thought I'd live to see this day."
"What day?" I asked, and then, narrowly, "We're not prisoners, are we? Where is Galdran?"
"Ash," Bran said with a laugh.
I gaped. "Dead?"
"Dead and burned, though no one shed a tear at his funeral fire. And you should have seen his minions scatter beforehand! The rest couldn't surrender fast enough!" He laughed again, then, "Ulp! Forgot. Want tea?"
"Oh yes," I said with enthusiasm. "I was just looking for my tunic. Or rather, the one I was wearing."
"Mud," he said succinctly. "Galdran smacked you ~ Sherwood Smith

The gospel commends itself to me because of its truth, because it does not just say, "Well now, let's forget our troubles and think of something beautiful." It says, "In the world you shall have tribulation..." (John 16:33). It says that in a world like this, dominated by Satan, there will be "wars and rumors of wars" (Matthew 24:6). It is psychology and not the gospel that just tries to ask us forget our troubles for the time being. The gospel of Jesus Christ always, therefore, of necessity annoys certain people, people who think that a place of worship is just a place where you listen to beautiful things, and therefore while you are sitting there, you forget your problems and the problems of the world. These people are certain to be annoyed.

The gospel confronts us with the facts. It is all based upon a person; it is based upon certain things that happened historically. It comes and tells me, "Let not your heart be troubled." But it comes in the light of Gethsemane and Jesus' trial and cruel death upon the cross, the broken body, the burial, the utter hopelessness, and despair. Then, and only then, it goes on to tell me of the Resurrection and the glory of the Ascension and the sending of the Holy Spirit that puts me in an entirely different position. It has taken me through the facts, through the tunnel of darkness to the dawn that lights the other end. ~ D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones

Patrick Henry said 'give me liberty or give me death.' I think his famous quote makes it crystal clear that the Constitutional framework of this country values liberty as an essential element of life, worth dying for. If something is worth such a sacrifice, how can the loss of it be justified for the argument that it will make us safer to give up our liberty and our civil rights? Are we to tell the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers of all the soldiers lost in foreign wars that it was all a big lie? That they died for nothing? ~ Kenneth Eade

America," he begged.
I turned to Maxon.
"They're fine. The rebels were slow, and everyone here knows what to do in an emergency."
I nodded. We stood there quietly for a minute, and I could tell he was about to move on.
"Maxon," I whispered.
He turned back, a little surprised to be addressed so casually.
"About last night. Let me explain. When they came to prep us, to get us ready to come here, there was a man who told me that I was never to turn you down. No matter what you asked for. Not ever."
He was dumbfounded. "What?"
"He made it sound like you might ask for certain things. And you said yourself that you hadn't been around many women. After eighteen years...and then you sent the cameras away. I just got scared when you got that close to me."
Maxon shook his head, trying to process all this. Humiliation, rage, and disbelief all played across his typically even-tempered face.
"Was everyone told this?" he asked, sounding appalled at the idea.
"I don't know. I can't imagine many girls would need such a warning. They're probably waiting to pounce on you," I noted, nodding my head toward the rest of the room.
He gave a dark chuckle. "But you're not, so you had absolutely no qualms about kneeing me in the groin, right?"
"I hit your thigh!"
"Oh, please. A man doesn't need that long to recover from a knee to the thigh," he replied, his voice full of skepticism.
A laugh escaped me. Thankfully, Maxon join i ~ Kiera Cass

A peek-a-boo world, where now this event, now that, pops into view for a moment, then vanishes again. It is an improbable world. It is a world in which the idea of human progress, as Bacon expressed it, has been replaced by the idea of technological progress. The aim is not to reduce ignorance, superstition, and suffering but to accommodate ourselves to the requirements of new technologies. We tell ourselves, of course, that such accommodations will lead to a better life, but that is only the rhetorical residue of a vanishing technocracy. We are a culture consuming itself with information, and many of us do not even wonder how to control the process. We proceed under the assumption that information is our friend, believing that cultures may suffer grievously from a lack of information, which, of course, they do. It is only now beginning to be understood that cultures may also suffer grievously from information glut, information without meaning, information without control mechanisms. ~ Neil Postman

The Lama of the Crystal Monastery appears to be a very happy man, and yet I wonder how he feels about his isolation in the silences of Tsakang, which he has not left in eight years now and, because of his legs, may never leave again. Since Jang-bu seems uncomfortable with the Lama or with himself or perhaps with us, I tell him not to inquire on this point if it seems to him impertinent, but after a moment Jang-bu does so. And this holy man of great directness and simplicity, big white teeth shining, laughs out loud in an infectious way at Jang-bu's question. Indicating his twisted legs without a trace of self-pity or bitterness, as if they belonged to all of us, he casts his arms wide to the sky and the snow mountains, the high sun and dancing sheep, and cries, Of course I am happy here! It's wonderful! Especially when I have no choice! ~ Peter Matthiessen

As they split to prepare for the meeting with the Ravkans, Jesper followed Wylan down the hall. "Hey."
Wylan kept going.
Jesper jogged past him and cut off his path, walking backward. "Listen, this thing with Kuwei isn't a thing." He tried again. "There is no thing with Kuwei."
"You don't owe me an explanation. I'm the one who interrupted."
"No, you didn't! Kuwei was sitting at the piano. It was an understandable mistake."
Wylan stopped short. "You thought he was me?"
"Yes!" Jesper said. "See? Just a big mis - "
Wylan's gold eyes flashed. "You really can't tell us apart?"
"I … I mean, usually I can, but - "
"We're nothing alike," Wylan said indignantly. "He's not even that good at science! Half his notebooks are full of doodles. Mostly of you. And those aren't good either. ~ Leigh Bardugo

You sound off," he said. "Why are you whispering? I thought you and Ana were having dinner together." I bit my lip.
"It's kind of a funny story, but you have to promise not to yell."
"Why would a funny story make me yell?" he asked warily. "Well," I drawled. "I was on my way to meet up with Ana, and there was this truck parked in an alley that didn't look right. So, I left my bike on the street and went to check it out." "Jordan." I didn't need to see him to know he was pinching the bridge of his nose, something he'd been doing a lot in the last few months.
"Don't worry. They didn't see me."
His tone sharpened. "Who didn't see you?"
"The Gulaks. They were too busy loading the girls into the back." I paused as the truck slowed going around a curve. "I slipped on without them having a clue I was there."
He swore. "Do not tell me you climbed into a truck with a bunch of Gulak slavers." I scoffed softly. "Of course not. Give me some credit. I'm on the roof of the truck." He growled something, and I heard another male laughing. It sounded like Mario, one of the warriors we were working with on this job, along with his mate, Ana. We'd been in Panama for two weeks, at the request of the government, to locate and shut down a human trafficking ring. But this one was a lot more sophisticated than any other Gulak operation we'd encountered, and they'd managed to evade us completely. Until now.
"This is not a funny story," he said in an exasperated ~ Karen Lynch

Our friends cannot understand why we make this voyage. They shudder, and moan, and raise their hands. No amount of explanation can make them comprehend that we are moving along the line of least resistance; that it is easier for us to go down to the sea in a small ship than to remain on dry land, just as it is easier for them to remain on dry land than to go down to the sea in the small ship. This state of mind comes of an undue prominence of the ego. They cannot get away from themselves. They cannot come out of themselves long enough to see that their line of least resistance is not necessarily everybody else's line of least resistance. They make of their own bundle of desires, likes, and dislikes a yardstick wherewith to measure the desires, likes, and dislikes of all creatures. This is unfair. I tell them so. But they cannot get away from their own miserable egos long enough to hear me. They think I am crazy. In return, I am sympathetic. It is a state of mind familiar to me. We are all prone to think there is something wrong with the mental processes of the man who disagrees with us. ~ Jack London

Our minds tell us, and history confirms, that the great threat to freedom is the concentration of power. Government is necessary to preserve our freedom, it is an instrument through which we can exercise our freedom; yet by concentrating power in political hands, it is also a threat to freedom. Even though the men who wield this power initially be of good will and even though they be not corrupted by the power they exercise, the power will both attract and form men of a different stamp. ~ Milton Friedman

Go ahead. Ask me who the father is."
He only smiled. "Do I look that stupid to you?"
She pushed back her short hair with a sigh. "He doesn't know, and you're not to tell him. In English, Apache or Lakota," she emphasized, covering all her bases.
He nodded. "What are you going to do?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," she confessed. "I only used the home-pregnancy test this morning, but I was pretty sure before then. I've got to find a place to live where Leta won't see me for a while. I can't risk having her tell Tate." She glanced at him. "Where were you all this time?" she wanted to know.
"Sitting calmly in a wing chair sipping coffee and trying to look invisible." He lifted his eyebrows at her disbelieving expression. "Somebody had to keep his head."
"There's an old saying that, if you can keep your head when everyone around you is losing theirs, you don't have a clue what's going on," she misquoted.
"Could be. But I'm not sporting a bruised face, like some I could name." He leaned forward. "Want to marry me?"
"Thanks, Colby," she said softly. "I really mean it. But it wouldn't be fair to any of us. Especially you."
He folded his arms and leaned back. "The offer doesn't have a time limit. I really do love children. ~ Diana Palmer

Listen: I'm not going to tell you what to do. We cannot make decisions for you. We came to help, but we do not want to interfere. We gave you a gift, yours to do with as you will. But you've heard all that before. We're happy to talk. To answer questions about why we don't stop war and suffering, cure cancer, end poverty, point the way to heaven or point out that there is no heaven. Ask us anything. We don't mind. We try our best to be candid, but there is an inevitable degree of mutual incomprehension. Because your qualia aren't our qualia. Because we're running models of who you think you are and what you think you know, but they're just models. Because the map isn't the territory. Because we aren't gods. We aren't even close. You know? At best, we're pipers at the gates of dawn. Who have come to this little blue planet to help. ~ Paul McAuley

An honorable human relationship – that is, one in which two people have the right to use the word "love" – is a process, delicate, violent, often terrifying to both persons involved, a process of refining the truths they can tell each other.

It is important to do this because it breaks down human self-delusion and isolation.

It is important to do this because in doing so we do justice to our own complexity.

It is important to do this because we can count on so few people to go that hard way with us. ~ Adrienne Rich

Many building custodians across the country would tell you that UCLA left the shower and dressing room the cleanest of any team. We picked up all the tape, never there soap on the shower floor for someone to slip on, made sure all the showers were turned off and all towels were accounted for. The towels were always deposited in a receptacle, if there was one, or stacked nearly near the door. It seems to me that this is everyone's responsibility-not just the mangers's. Furthermore, I believe it is a form of discipline that should be a way of life, not to please some building custodian, but as an expression of courtesy and politeness that each of us owes to his follow-man. These little things establish a spirit of togetherness and consideration that help unite the team into a solid unit. ~ John Wooden

You spoke of a wolf god,' Skintick said. 'You began to tell us a story.'
'So I did. But you must be made to understand. It is a question of essences. To see a wolf and know it as pure, one must possess an image in oneself of a pure wolf, a perfect wolf.'
'Ridiculous,' Kallor grunted. 'See a strange beast and someone tells you it is a wolf - and from this one memory, and perhaps a few more to follow, you have fashioned your image of a wolf. In my empires, philosophers spewed such rubbish for centuries, until, of course, I grew tired of them and had them tortured and executed. ~ Steven Erikson

The first movements of the fetus produce this sense of the splitting subject; the fetus's movements are wholly mine, completely within me, condition my experience and space. Only I have access to these movements from their origin, as it were. For months only I can witness this life within me, and it is only under my direction of where to put their hands that others can feel these movements. I have a privileged relation to this other life, not unlike that which I have to my dreams and thoughts, which I can tell someone but which cannot be an object for both of us in the same way... Pregnancy challenges the integration of my body experience by rendering fluid the boundary between what is within, myself, and what is outside, separate. I experience my insides as the space of another, yet my own body. ~ Iris Marion Young

I turn on my heel, which is no easy feat in a gravel parking lot. Not losing eye contact with Galen, I stare him down until I get to the door he's opened for me. He seems unconcerned. In fact, he seems downright emotionless. "This better be good," I tell him as I plop down.
"You should have returned my calls. Or my texts," he says, his voice tight.
As he backs out of the parking space, I yank my cell out of my purse, perusing the texts. "Well, doesn't look like anyone died, so why the hell did you ruin my date?" It's the first time I've ever cursed at royalty and it's liberating. "Or is this a kidnapping? Is Grom in the trunk? Are you taking us on our honeymoon?"
You're supposed to be hurting him, not yourself, moron. My lip trembles like the traitor it is. Even though I'm looking away, I can tell Galen's impassive expression has softened because of the way he says, "Emma."
"Leave me alone, Galen." He pulls my chin to face him. I knock his hand away. "You can't go forty miles an hour on the interstate, Galen. You need to speed up."
He sighs and presses the gas. By the time we reach a less-embarrassing speed, I've abandoned my hurt for rage-o-plenty, struck by the realization that I've turned into "that girl." Not the one who exchanges her doctorate for some kids and a three-bedroom two-bath, but the other kind. That girl who exchanges her dignity and chances for happiness for some possessive loser who beats her when she makes eye contact with some ra ~ Anna Banks

We're still going to Loggerhead this afternoon, right?" Hi glanced around, then dropped his voice. "For that ... home movie thing?"
I nodded. "We might as well deal with what we can. Let's take the afternoon shuttle. I'll think of an excuse for Kit, thought I'm open to suggestions."
"Ben?" Shelton asked.
"Not today. I think the two of us need a little distance."
The bell rang. We gathered our things and headed for the door.
"Tell Kit we're cutting a music video," Hi suggested as we walked. "Something real gangster, so we need to smash-cut our dance routines. Lay down some visuals. We could offer to let him rap over the second verse."
I gave him a thumbs-up. "Foolproof. Anyone need a locker stop? ~ Kathy Reichs

It used to be that when I made mistakes like this or came close to losing my life, I would just call Miguel. He'd drop it all to come to me - his movies, media engagements no matter how big they were, and even his criminal activities went on hold for me. It made me think he cared.
Miguel canceled an appearance on the Dave Letterman show just because he called me and thought my voice sounded like something was wrong.
He directed his gaze to the bruises decorating my face. "You said you weren't hurt."
With those big arms, he picked me up and slammed the door behind us. "When I ask you if you're okay, you tell me the truth. ~ Kenya Wright

In this he was like most Midwesterners. Directions are very important to them. They have an innate need to be oriented, even in their anecdotes. Any story related by a Midwesterner will wander off at some point into a thicket of interior monologue along the lines of "We were staying at a hotel that was eight blocks northeast of the state capital building. Come to think of it, it was northwest. And I think it was probably more like nine blocks. And this woman without any clothes on, naked as the day she was born except for a coonskin cap, came running at us from the southwest... or was it the southeast?" If there are two Midwesterns present and they both witnessed the incident, you can just about write off the anecdote because they will spend the rest of the afternoon arguing points of the compass and will never get back to the original story. You can always tell a Midwestern couple in Europe because they will be standing on a traffic island in the middle of a busy intersection looking at a windblown map and arguing over which way is west. European cities, with their wandering streets and undisciplined alleys, drive Midwesterners practically insane. ~ Bill Bryson

What's wrong?" he said. "I'll tell you what's wrong: you're killing us."
"But I thought that's what you wanted?"
"We did," my mother wept, "but not this way."
It hadn't occurred to me until that moment, but I seemed to have come full circle. What started as a dodge had inadvertently become my life's work, an irony I never could have appreciated had my extraordinary parents not put me through Princeton. ~ David Sedaris

Gregori brought Savannah's hand to the warmth of his mouth,his breath heating the pulse beating in her wrist. The night is especially beautiful, mon petit amour.Your hero saved the girl, walks among humans, and converses with a fool.That alone should bring a smile to your face.Do not weep for what we cannot change.We will make certain that this human with us comes to no harm.
Are you my hero,then? There were tears in her voice, in her mind, like an iridescent prism. She needed him, his comfort,his support under her terrible weight of guilt and love and loss.
Always,for all eternity, he answered instantly,without hesitation, his eyes hot mercury. He tipped her chin up so that she met the brilliance of his silver gaze.Always, mon amour.His molten gaze trapped her blue one and held her enthralled. Your heart grows lighter.The burden of your sorrow becomes my own. He held her gaze captive for a few moments to ensure that she was free of the heaviness crushing her.
Savannah blinked and moved a little away from him, wondering what she had been thinking of.What had they been talking about?
"Gary." Gregori drawled the name slowly and sat back in his chair,totally relaxed. He looked like a sprawling tiger,dangerous and untamed. "Tell us about yourself."
"I work a lot.I'm not married. I'm really not much of a people person. I'm basically a nerd."
Gregori shifted, a subtle movement of muscles suggesting great power. "I am not familiar with this term."
Christine Feehan

Let's see," mused the dragon, "that doesn't tell us much, does it? What sort of a word is this? Is it an epithet, do you think?"
Gawaine could do no more than nod.
"Why, of course," exclaimed the dragon, "reactionary Republican. ~ Heywood Broun

He would talk, and I would talk, and he would talk, and each of our words sounded out the deepest secret depths inside us. There are some forms of love that words can do no justice to. There are some scars that can't be seen. Perfection is in itself an imperfection. He had flaws. He was sick. He needed help. Is not everyone sick, at one time or another? That was part of his beauty, his sickness. If he had not been sick, he would not have been beautiful, in the way that consumptives are, burning themselves up in brilliant flashes of light . . . I don't expect you to be able to understand. Love is strong enough to resurrect the dead. I don't like the word scar, because it implies intent and blame. A soul as powerful as his had to burn. I have never known a love like this. You don't know. I would have done anything at all for him. You don't know. It feels so goddamn good to be needed, to have someone tell you that he has a gaping hole in him whose shape is made to fit you . . . I saw that he was burning a piece of art on me, a signature on my psyche because it filled the hole in his own, and he wanted to make me his. ~ Dexter Palmer

And nothing inspires as much shame as being a parent. Children confront us with our paradoxes and hypocrisies, and we are exposed. You need to find an answer for every why - Why do we do this? Why don't we do that? - and often there isn't a good one. So you say, simply, because. Or you tell a story that you know isn't true. And whether or not your face reddens, you blush. The shame of parenthood - which is a good shame - is that we want our children to be more whole than we are, to have satisfactory answers. ~ Jonathan Safran Foer

Cars let us out of the barn and, while they were at it, destroyed the American nuclear family. As anyone who has had an American nuclear family can tell you, this was a relief to all concerned. ~ P. J. O'Rourke

Were you ever going to tell me?"

"About the Grail?" He returned to the couch and handed her a glass. "I wasn't planning on it."

She knocked back the rum and swallowed, setting the empty glass on the table. Impressive.

She met his eyes. "So even if we had slept together last night, you were going to keep telling me you were descended from a pirate, not an actual pirate."

He took a swig, his gaze locked on hers. "Would you have believed me?"

"No." She shrugged. "Just wondering how long you would have lied to me."

"I could ask you the same thing."

She rolled her eyes. "I played you. There's a difference." She shrugged. "Besides that, was before our no lies between us deal."

"I see this as more of an omission." He finished off his drink and placed the glass beside hers. "In my defense, I've never told anyone who I really am. You're the first."

She raised a brow. "Are you saying I should feel…special?"

"Aye." He cleared his throat. "I've never taken a bullet for anyone either, not even my crew."

"Thanks for that." A reluctant smile curved her lips as she met his eyes. "Pretty heroic for a pirate."

He chuckled. "It's less heroic when you're certain you won't die."

"But you knew it would hurt."

He nodded slowly. "True."

She pinched her fingertips close together in the air. "It might've been a tiny bit heroic."

Lisa Kessler