Coldest Girl In Coldtown Quotes

If one of the people who'd gone Cold drank human blood, the infection mutated. It killed the host and then raised them back up again, Colder than before. Cold through and through, forever and ever. ~ Holly Black

Tell them I'm like you," Gavriel said as they began to slow down.
Aidan laughed. "I think they can see you're not like us anymore."
"No," he said. "Tell them you know me. That I'm like you, one of you. From the party. Tell them."
"Wait," said Winter. "Wait. Is he saying he wasn't at the party? Did you meet him by the side of the road? Did you pick up a hitchhiker who coincidentally turned out to be a vampire?"
Gavriel fixed his gaze on Winter. "You know me," he said, and a chill went up Tana's spine. "You've known me since outside the rest stop, when I turned and the light hit my face."
"What does he mean?" Midnight asked.
"I don't know," Winter said in an odd voice. "Nothing. ~ Holly Black

The basement smelled damp, like mold and minerals, as she started down the creaking, wooden stairs. Her mother had stopped screaming the moment the door opened. Everything was very quiet as Tana descended, the scratch of her shoes on the wood loud in her ears. Her foot hesitated on the last step. Then something knocked her down. ~ Holly Black

Haven't you watched the feeds?" Winter asked her, more gently. "Vampires like anything and everything that keeps them from getting bored. Anything and everything." ~ Holly Black

He reached into the bag and drew out an odd array of manga, ripped paperbacks of books both classic and modern, and a small stack of crumpled magazines. See, I even brought some things to read aloud. I wasn't sure what you'd like, so there's a bit of everything. ~ Holly Black

Fine, fine, everyone's fine," said the vampire, a mad gleam in his red eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as Bela Lugosi did in black-and-white films. "Fine as scattered pieces of sand."
She wondered how much effort it had taken him to talk to her the way he had - to, what was it he'd said? Keeping my thoughts clearly ordered - and how crazy he was going to be now, as a result of that strain. ~ Holly Black

Midnight rolled her eyes, as though Aidan was being ridiculous. "I bet you were a good girl back home," she said to Tana. "A good girl all your life until you finally met the trouble you want to get in."
"You obviously don't know her at all," Aidan told Midnight gruffly. Then he turned back to Tana. "Did he bite you? ~ Holly Black

They have a friend - " Tana began.
"I have a friend, too," said Gavriel. "And I mean to kill him. ~ Holly Black

Why fear death? It is the most beautiful adventure in life. ~ Charles Frahman

He smiled, a real smile, the kind real boys gave real girls. "It's been a very long time since anyone worried for me. ~ Holly Black

She was unprepared for how much the way into Coldtown looked like a shoddily run DMV. ~ Holly Black

What got you chained up?" she asked the vampire.
"I fell in with bad company," he said, straight-faced, and for a moment she wasn't sure if he was joking. It rattled her, the idea that he might have a sense of humor.
"Be careful," Aidan called from the bed. "You don't know what he might do."
"We all know what you'd do, though, don't we?" the vampire accused Aidan in his silky voice. ~ Holly Black

Little mouse," a voice said through the keyhole. "Don't you know the more you wriggle, the greater the cat's delight? ~ Holly Black

He just looked like a pretty boy, tall and lanky. She thought again of the crumpled paper in her purse and of him, caged beneath a cemetery. How long had he been there? How long had he looked just as he did now? A hundred years? Two hundred? Could he even remember the press of time? Maybe having stepped outside of it would drive anybody crazy. ~ Holly Black

Maybe it was that nearly everyone else was dead and she felt a little bit dead too, but she figured that even a vampire deserved to be saved. Maybe she ought to leave him, but she wasn't going to. ~ Holly Black

It had worked in the past, being calm, acting as though everything were normal. She hoped it would work again. "Gavriel, we have to go. Stop being so scary."
At that, he looked over and smiled again, spinning Midnight in his arms as if they'd been dancing. Winter caught her and held her upright.
"I can wait a little longer," Gavriel said. "A very little longer."
"The car keys," Tana demanded, holding out a trembling hand. He fished in his pockets - an utterly normal gesture - then dropped them into her palm ceremoniously. She picked up the bag of cash and jewels from beside the hood of the car, shoving it into her purse.
"I won't always obey you," he said softly. "One night you will ask me for something I cannot give."
She'd started to relax, but his words sent a fresh spike of terror up her spine. ~ Holly Black

Her screams spiraled up into the night air ~ Holly Black

His voice had a faint trace of an accent she couldn't place - one that made her pretty sure he was no local kid infected the night before. ~ Holly Black

I don't want to be a vampire' she told herself. But in her dreams, she kind of did. ~ Holly Black

In the dream, Tana's mother loved her more than anyone or anything. More than death. ~ Holly Black

She took a deep breath, "Last chance. Are you in need of rescuing?"
His expression turned very strange, almost as if she'd struck him, "Yes," he said finally. ~ Holly Black

You said you were allowed to lose it,' some part of her reminded herself.
'Not yet, not yet. ~ Holly Black

His wax-white skin was cool to the touch when she brushed his neck to find the knot of cloth. She'd never been this close to a vampire,never realized what it would be like to be so near to someone who didn't breathe, who could be as still as any statue. His chest neither rose not fell. Her hands shook. ~ Holly Black

When you're in danger , everything becomes clear,doesn't it? Everything else falls away. Danger is a terrible addiction, but that's what I like - the clarity of thought that it provides. How about you? ~ Holly Black

Tana," Aidan said as soon as he saw her. "Tana, they're going to come in as soon as it's dark. They told us." He looked pale and frantic, worse than she remembered him looking when she'd left. "We're going to die, Tana."
"Condamné à mort," a voice rasped from the other side of the door. She could hear the creatures whispering to one another in the hall, shifting hungrily, waiting for the sun to set.
Her hands shook.
She whirled on Gavriel, who was watching her with those eerie garnet eyes, huddled in the corner like a black crow. "What does that mean?"
"There are so many odd dappled patches of sunlight here," he called to them from his pile of blankets and jackets, ignoring her. "Come in. I long to watch your skin blister. I long to - "
"Don't say that!" she cut him off, panicked. If the vampires pushed their way in, she had no idea what she would do. ~ Holly Black

Are you sure?" Aidan asked, "Gavriel's still a vampire."
"He warned me about you and about them. He didn't have to. I'm not going to repay that by-" she hesitated, then frowned. "What did you call him?"
"That's his name," Aidan sighed, "Gavriel. The other vampires, while they were tying me to the bed, they said his name."
"Oh." With a final tug she pulled the blanked free and tossed it over to 'Gavriel ~ Holly Black

He let out a hiss of pain,then smiled that crooked, sheepish smile he always fell back on when he was caught doing something bad. Sorry. I-I didn't mean to. I just- I've been lying here for hours, thinking about blood. ~ Holly Black

The Thorn of Istra, her mind supplied. That's the Thorn of Istra.
Lots. He's killed lots and lots and lots. ~ Holly Black

My view of writing "Coldest Girl in Coldtown" was to take every single thing that I loved from every vampire book I had ever read and dump it into one book
everything I like
trying to evoke some of the decadence ... Vampires are a high-class monster: They want to dress up. They want to drink a lot of absinthe, or force their victims to drink a lot of absinthe. They have big parties and have elegant rituals. I think that's a thing we associate with vampires
they are the royalty of our monsters. We expect them to be rich, we expect them to be well-dressed. I wanted to have some of that be true because I like it, and have some of it not be true because it's kind of weird.
I wanted to put in the idea of infection, which I was really interested in and which was a big feature of the vampire books I read growing up. And, the fear and desire for infection
the way in which our urge towards loving vampires is nihilistic. Our fear of them is our survival instincts kicking in. ~ Holly Black

She had shrieked and shrieked for her mother, but her mother was already there. Her mother was the monster. ~ Holly Black

She made her voice as firm as possible. "Don't let them catch you."
He hesitated, clearly surprised by her words. Then he smiled again, inclining his head in a shallow bow, acknowledging everything she'd left unsaid. "Traveling with you was a delight worth any delay, but I can delay no longer. ~ Holly Black

Death is the dropping of the flower, that the fruit may, swell. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

Maybe like the bat in the birdcage, Gavriel had been waiting for dark, waiting to get out of the chains, drink Aidan's blood, and escape. But when she showed up, he figured he could use them for a ride through daylight, so long as he seemed harmless enough to need saving. A chill crept up her spine. ~ Holly Black

Be careful," Aidan called from the bed. "You don't know what he might do."
"We all know what you'd do, though, don't we? ~ Holly Black

On the lawn one late summer day, her pale hair tangled because she'd cry if anyone tried to brush it, spinning around and around until she got so dizzy she fell in a pile of bare feet and dandelions and sundress. ~ Holly Black

They snatched the girl off her tire swing in the backyard and dragged her into the woods; her body made a shallow track in the snow, from her world to mine. I saw it happen. I didn't stop it.
It had been the longest, coldest winter of my life. Day after day under a pale, worthless sun. And the hunger- hunger that burned and gnawed, an insatiable master. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Group therapy was the only place I could feel "not crazy." Every time we met, I exhaled. Because when you've been raped, you really feel like you're on an island. Then to be in this room, where everyone could relate, changed everything. Wow, that girl is getting straight A's. That girl got a great internship. This girl is engaged. It gave me the calm I so desperately needed. I saw the possibility of hope. ~ Gabrielle Union

She trained the girls in her Girl Scout troop to believe that they could be anything, and she went to lengths to prevent negative stereotypes of their race from shaping their internal views of themselves and other Negroes. It was difficult enough to rise above the silent reminders of Colored signs on the bathroom doors and cafeteria tables. But to be confronted with the prejudice so blatantly, there in that temple to intellectual excellence and rational thought, by something so mundane, so ridiculous, so universal as having to go to the bathroom...In the moment when the white women laughed at her, Mary had been demoted from professional mathematician to a second-class human being, reminded that she was a black girl whose piss wasn't good enough for the white pot. ~ Margot Lee Shetterly

I was the Duff. And that was a good thing. Because anyone who didn't feel like the Duff must not have friends. Every girl feels unattractive sometimes. Why had it taken me so long to figure that out? Why had I been stressing over that dumb word for so long when it was so simple? I should be proud to be the Duff. Proud to have great friends who, in their minds, were my Duffs. ~ Kody Keplinger

I did not tremble when his eyes met mine. One can only shudder in fear for so long until all trepidation is replaced by unearthly bravery. ~ Meredith T. Taylor

One time I told her that she reminded me of that charming tale, the one with the red shoes."
Helen had always hated that story, in which a little girl who had dared to wear red shoes to her confirmation had been doomed to dance in them until she died. "You're referring to the one by Hans Christian Andersen? It's a morality tale about the wages of sin, is it not?"
His smile faded, and his gaze returned to hers, now appraising rather than dismissive. "I confess, I don't recall the moral of the story."
"No doubt it's been a long time since you've read it." Helen made her face into the inscrutable mask that had always annoyed the twins and provoked them to call her a sphinx. "The red shoes become instruments of death, after a girl yields to temptation. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Ideals, my girl," she says. "Always easier to believe in than live."
"But if you don't at least try to live them," Bradley says, "then there's no point in living at all. ~ Patrick Ness

I love you. Like really love you, and you offered me a pity date, went off and fucked another girl.. If I mattered, if you felt half of what I feel for you, then it would have been me in your arms; it would have been me under you that night. It would have been me, and it wasn't. It never is. ~ Leigh Ann Lunsford

I walked to the bookcase and examined the storybooks inside. As a girl, I had dreamed of having stacks of books at my disposal
stories to get lost in, other worlds to live in when mine was so bleak. ~ Sarah Jio

As a woman, I know you're young but you gotta hear it now,the most valuable part about you is your brain. Get an education,don't let anybody tell you that your body or the size that you wear or any of that bullshit matters because it doesn't. Your brain matters, so be the smart girl in the room because to be funny you have to be smart, because you have to get the joke ~ Sophia Bush

He is tangled in Isabelle's arms, he is curtained by Isabelle's hair, he is touching Isabelle's body, he is lost in Isabelle, in her smell and her taste and the silk of her skin.
He is onstage, the music pounding, the floor shaking, the audience cheering, his heart beating beating beating in time with the drumbeat.
He is laughing with Clary, dancing with Clary, eating with Clary, running through the streets of Brooklyn with Clary, they are children together, they are one half of a whole, they hold hands and squeeze tight and pledge never to let go.
He is going cold, stiff, the life draining out of him, he is below, in the dark, clawing his way to the light, fingernails scraping dirt, mouth filled with dirt, eyes clogged with dirt, he is straining, reaching, dragging himself up toward the sky, and when he reaches it, he opens his mouth wide but does not breathe, for he no longer needs to breathe, only to feed. And he is so very hungry.
He is sinking his teeth into the neck of an angel's child, he is drinking the light.
He is bearing a Mark, and it burns.
He is raising his face to meet the gaze of an angel, he is flayed by the fury of angel fire, and yet still, impudent and bloodless, he lives.
He is in a cage.
He is in hell.
He is bent over the broken body of a beautiful girl, he is praying to whatever god that will listen, please let her live, anything to let her live.
He is giving away that which is most precious to him, ~ Cassandra Clare

What if a zombie came in,reeking of death and decay? He'd totally go for te Vicious Redhead Soccer Girl sitting right by the door.I could take a zombie. That ruler on the teacher's desk looked like a sharp edge,and how cool would my classmates think I was? Especially if I had Tasey.
I sighed,leaning my head back and staring up at the ceiling.It would never work. No ruler would be sharp enough. Besides which,I never bring Tasey to school.And even if I saved everyone in the class,I'd probably still be expelled due to the school's zero tolerance policy on violence.
I'd just have to live without the everlasting appreciation and admiration of my classmates. ~ Kiersten White

Anyway ... I'm a firm believe that every girl should get one Barbie dream wedding in her lifetime, but if that marriage craps out, I'm also a firm believer that all future weddings must be banned to beaches and back yards. ~ Chrissy Anderson

I mean to do something grand. I don't know what, yet; but when I'm grown up I shall find out.Perhaps,it will be rowing out in boats, and saving peoples' lives,like that girl in the book. Or perhaps I shall go and nurse in the hospital, like Miss Nightingale. Or else I'll head a crusade and ride on a white horse, with armor and a helmet on my head, and carry a sacred flag. Or if I don't do that, I'll paint pictures,or sing, or scalp – sculp – what is it? you know – make figures in marble. Anyhow it shall be something. ~ Susan Coolidge

Words were weapons, his father had taught him that, and he'd wanted to hurt Clary more than he'd ever wanted to hurt any girl. In fact, he wasn't sure he had ever wanted to hurt a girl before. Usually he just wanted them, and then he wanted them to leave him alone. ~ Cassandra Clare

Are the Trials starting?" The girl claps her hands over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I - "

"It's all right." I don't smile at her. It will only scare her. For a female slave, a smile from a Mask is not usually a good thing. "I'm actually wondering the same thing. What's your name?"

"S-slave-Girl." Of course. My mother would already have scourged her name out of existence.

"Right. You work for the Commandant?" I want her to say no. I want her to say that my mother roped her into this. I want her to say she's assigned to the kitchens or infirmary, where slaves aren't scarred or missing body parts.

But the girl nods in response to my question. Don't let my mother break you, I think. The girl meets my eyes, and there is that feeling again, low and hot and consuming. Don't be weak. Fight. Escape.

A gust of wind whips a strand free from her bun and across her cheekbone. Defiance flashes across her face as she holds my gaze, and for a second, I see my own desire for freedom mirrored, intensified in her eyes. It's something I've never detected in the eyes of a fellow student, let alone a Scholar slave. For one strange moment, I feel less alone.

But then she looks down, and I wonder at my own naiveté. She can't fight. She can't scape. Not from Blackcliff. I smile joylessly; in this, at least, the slave and I are more similar than she'll ever know. ~ Sabaa Tahir

I've recommended girls for jobs that I had a different part in, and agents have been like, "No, don't ... "It's so surprising to me. ~ Winona Ryder

Some of the best motivation in life is trying to impress a girl. ~ Tom Brady

Never mind that he saved your ass more times than you can remember, or that he could have killed you a hundred times over, or that there's something about him, something tormented and sad and terribly, terribly lonely, like he was the last person on Earth, not the girl shivering in a sleeping bag, hugging a teddy bear in a world gone quiet. ~ Rick Yancey

She stepped in closer and studied my face. "What's that?"
"What's what?"
"That weird goofy grin you're giving me - holy face full of sex! You slept with him!"
"What? No, I - "
"Don't try to outsmart the sexoholic, Liz. You totally boned him!"
Like a little girl who'd just gotten her first kiss, I squirmed. "I totally boned him!"
"Sweet Jesus! Yes!" She stood up on the front porch and started chanting. "YES! YES! YES!!! The drought is over!"
Tristan turned our way and raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay, ladies?"
I pulled Faye back down to sit and giggled. "Everything's fine."
"Including that sweet ass of his," Faye muttered with a smirk. "So, how was it?"
"Well, let's just say I gave his thing a nickname."
Tears formed in her eyes and her hands flew over her heart. "My little girl is growing up. Okay, what's the name?"
"The Incredible Hulk."
She cringed. "I'm sorry, what?"
"The Incr - "
"No, no. I heard you the first time. You mean that green monster thing? Liz, are you fucking a guy with a green penis? Because if you are, you need a tetanus shot." She eyed me up and down, cringing. "And higher standards. ~ Brittainy C. Cherry

You are not a woman. You may try-but you can never imagine what it is to have a man's force of genius in you and yet to suffer the slavery of being a girl. ~ George Eliot

I cried so hard that you pushed me further away. I screamed so loud you called the police on me. I got so city girl on you. ~ Tegan Quin

I'm not that girl from Freaky Friday any more! I'm a real adult. In fact, I hate children! I hate them all! ~ Lindsay Lohan

George Washington was in love with one girl after another during his youth, but for some reason he was unsuccessful in all these early courtships. He was probably shy and awkward in the presence of Tidewater belles. He was never to become a fluent conversationalist, had not been educated in England and, comparatively speaking, was a poor young man. In fact he was not a particularly good "catch"--and the Virginia girls let him realize it.

This made him so miserable that he wrote at least two unhappy love poems in a perfect welter of bad grammar and emotional tumult. These poems make him seem far from the statuesque and wooden figure of the Stuart portraits or of the Weems' fables. In fact, they reveal a most human and even pitiable young man. . . .

[A]mong the other girls he courted, there must have been several who in later years wondered why they had been so cool and calculating in refusing the hand of the young man who was soon to become Virginia's greatest hero. ~ Sterling North

Paths of the mirror"

I
And above all else, to look with innocence. As if nothing was happening, which is true.

II
But you, I want to look at you until your face escapes from my fear like a bird from the sharp
edge of the night.

III
Like a girl made of pink chalk on a very old wall that is suddenly washed away by the rain.

IV
Like when a flower blooms and reveals the heart that isn't there.

V
Every gesture of my body and my voice to make myself into the offering,
the bouquet that is abandoned by
the wind on the porch.

VI
Cover the memory of your face with the mask of who you will be and scare the girl you once were.

VII
The night of us both scattered with the fog. It's the season of cold foods.

VIII
And the thirst, my memory is of the thirst, me underneath, at the bottom, in the hole,
I drank, I remember.

IX
To fall like a wounded animal in a place that was meant to be for revelations.

X
As if it meant nothing. No thing. Mouth zipped. Eyelids sewn. I forgot.
Inside, the wind. Everything closed and the wind inside.

XI
Under the black sun of the silence the words burned slowly.

XII
But the silence is true. That's why I write. I'm alone and I write. No, I'm not alone.
There's somebody here shivering.

XIII
Even if I say sun and moon and star I'm t ~ Alejandra Pizarnik

The insidious reasons for a brown girl's self-loathing won't be surprising to any woman of color. I cannot rightly compare my own struggles to those of another minority, as each ethnicity comes with its own baggage and the South Asian experience is just one variation on the experience of dark-skinned people everywhere. As parents and grandparents often do in Asian countries, my extended family urged me to avoid the sun, not out of fear that heatstroke would sicken me or that UV rays would lead to cancer, but more, I think, out of fear that my skin would darken to the shade of an Untouchable, a person from the lowest caste in Indian society, someone who toils in the fields. The judgments implicit in these exhortations - and what they mean about your worth - might not dawn on you while you're playing cricket in the sand. What's at stake might not dawn on you while, as a girl, you clutch fast to yourself your blonde-haired, blue-eyed doll named Helen. But all along, the message that lighter skin is equivalent to a more attractive, worthier self is getting beamed deep into your subconscious. Western ideals of beauty do not stop at ocean shores. They pervade the world and mingle with those of your own country to create mutant, unachievable standards. ~ Padma Lakshmi

When I was a little girl, if someone asked me why I was a Christian, I said it was because Jesus lived in my heart. In high school, I said it was because I accepted the atonement of Jesus Christ on the cross for my sins. My sophomore year of college, during a short-lived Reformed phase, I said it was because of the irresistible grace of God. But after watching Zarmina's execution on television, I decided that the most truthful answer to that question was this: I was a Christian because I was born in the United States of America in the year 1981 to Peter and Robin Held. Arminians call it free will; Calvinists call it predestination. I call it the cosmic lottery. ~ Rachel Held Evans

She has lived under the covers of selfless love, and so was imbibed by her.
Agonies were many that flamed through her heart,
All she found,
were ways to cover it up.
To the world, a girl full of life,
only in solitude she knew her true worth. ~ Priyansha Vashi

This girl is good at voices. She actually wanted to be Isolde, because Isolde has a better part and this girl is pale and stringy and rumpled and always looks slightly alarmed, which are qualities that don't quite fit Isolde, and so she plays Bridget instead. In truth it is her longing to be an Isolde that most characterises her as a Bridget: Bridget is always wanting to be somebody else. ~ Eleanor Catton

We all have that one girl. We can have a handful of relationships, and they might be good, we might even fall in love with those people, but there is always going to be that one girl. The thing is, you don't know it until you meet her, but when you do, it is like nothing else could ever compare. She has the power to change everything. She makes you a better person. She brings out the good in you. She knocks back all the bad. You honestly don't know yourself when you're with her. But you just know, she's the one to bring out the absolute best in you. It's a connection unlike anything you've ever felt, almost like you've known her forever. It's more real than anything you've ever experienced. You don't feel a single bad vibe. And for the first time, you honestly wonder how you ever managed before you met her. ~ Bella Jewel

A girl in a crown of stars was coming toward him, but before she could see who he was he slipped through his curtains of flesh. ~ Kathryn Davis

You're an idiot, Maxon Schreave. Your parents have completely sabotaged you. You could have a thousand girls set before you, and it wouldn't matter. You're too stupid to see love when it stands right in front of you. ~ Kiera Cass

This seat taken?" My eyes grazing over the only other occupant, a guy with long glossy dark hair with his head bent over a book.
"It's all yours," he says. And when he lifts his head and smiles,my heart just about leaps from my chest.
It's the boy from my dreams.
The boy from the Rabbit Hole,the gas station,and the cave-sitting before me with those same amazing,icy-blue eues, those same alluring lips I've kissed multiple times-but only in slumber, never in waking life.
I scold my heart to settle,but it doesn't obey.
I admonish myself to sit,to act normal, casual-and I just barely succeed.
Stealing a series of surreptitious looks as I search through my backpack, taking in his square chin,wide generous lips,strong brow,defined cheekbones, and smooth brown skin-the exact same features as Cade.
"You're the new girl,right?" He abandons his book,tilting his head in a way that causes his hair to stream over his shoulder,so glossy and inviting it takes all of my will not to lean across the table and touch it.
I nod in reply,or at least I think I do.I can't be too sure.I'm too stricken by his gaze-the way it mirrors mine-trying to determine if he knows me, recognizes me,if he's surprised to find me here.Wishing Paloma had better prepared me-focused more on him and less on his brother.
I force my gaze from his.Bang my knee hard against the table as I swivel in my seat.Feeling so odd and unsettled,I wish I'd picked another place to sit, thoug ~ Alyson Noel

If you have twenty guys in the room and you just bring in one girl, you change the entire mood and everyone plays different. ~ Jack White

I'm always have been in my life a big protector of women. If I see a guy slap a girl I would rip their head off; I'm very like that. ~ Vinnie Jones

The girl was absorbed in him, without consciousness or shame. ~ Joseph Campbell

I think in general, and in the film industry, that idea of having only one type of girl is changing. There's more variety because it's the world we live, and we want to portray that. ~ Stephanie Sigman

I need to ask, are you afraid of spiders?"
Nicholas blinked, suddenly caught off guard, "Yes, I'm afraid of spiders."
"Were you always?"
"What are you, a psychiatrist?"
Pritam took a breath. He could feel Laine's eyes on him, appraising his line of questioning.
"Is it possible that the trauma of losing your best friend as a child and the trauma of losing your wife as an adult and the trauma of seeing Laine's husband take his life in front of you just recently..." Pritam shrugged and raised his palms, "You see where I'm going?"
Nicholas looked at Laine. She watched back. Her gray eyes missed nothing.
"Sure," agreed Nicholas, standing. "And my sister's nuts, too, and we both like imagining that little white dogs are big nasty spiders because our daddy died and we never got enough cuddles."
"Your father died?" asked Laine. "When?"
"Who cares?"
Pritam sighed. "You must see this from our point of - "
"I'd love to!" snapped Nicholas. "I'd love to see it from your point of view, because mine is not that much fun! It's insane! It's insane that I see dead people, Pritam! It's insane that this," he flicked out the sardonyx necklace,"stopped me from kidnapping a little girl!"
"That's what you believe," Pritam said carefully.
"That's what I fucking believe!" Nicholas stabbed his finger through the air at the dead bird talisman lying slack on the coffee table. ~ Stephen M. Irwin

Westcliff thinks that St. Vincent is in love with you."
Evie choked a little and didn't dare look up from her tea. "Wh-why does he think that?"
"He's known St. Vincent from childhood, and can read him fairly well. And Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent's heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to ... hmm, how did he put it? ... I can't remember the exact words, but it was something like ... you would appeal to St. Vincent's deepest, most secret fantasy."
Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. "I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible."
A grin crossed Lillian's lips. "Dear, that is not St. Vincent's fantasy, it's his reality. And you're probably the first sweet, decent girl he's ever had anything to do with. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Besides,I like working outdoors. Pa and the boys have always let me help with the ranch chores."
This was received with a raised eyebrow. "Indeed. How kind of them. Willow,the men in your family treat you more like a slave than the young lady you are. It's a sin, I tell you, a deplorable sin!"
Willow shrugged. "Hell...er, ah, heck, I'd rather round up cows than be stuck in the house all day. Besides, there ain't much house work with Pa and the boys gone."
"Humph! Too bad your pa didn't teach you more about the joys of being a lady."
The girl bristled. "I am a lady! I may not wear those fancy, highfalutin clothes, or walk around looking helpless, but that ain't what really makes a lady, you know."
"And what, pray tell, in your opinion, makes a lady, Willow?"
"A woman is a lady as long as she keeps her distance from horny critters of the opposite sex." She grinned proudly and declared, "I do.That makes me a lady!"
"Horny crit-" Shocked, Mrs. Brigham stared a moment, then nodded firmly. "My dear, someone needs to take you in hand, and I know my duty when I see it. Now listen to me, young lady-mind you, I use the term lightly. There's much more to being a lady than avoiding the opposite sex. For instance, ladies don't wear men's pants. Ladies don't herd cattle. And ladies don't smoke, curse, or sneak whiskey. I have it on good authority that you've done all those things and more. And, furthermore, ladies don't know the meaning of...horny!"
~ Charlotte McPherren

Tito snored away on the other bed. Out there, all around them to the last fringes of occupancy, were Toobfreex at play in the video universe, the tropic isle, the Long Branch Saloon, the Starship Enterprise, Hawaiian crime fantasies, cute kids in make-believe living rooms with invisible audiences to laugh at everything they did, baseball highlights, Vietnam footage, helicopter gunships and firefights, and midnight jokes, and talking celebrities, and a slave girl in a bottle, and Arnold the pig, and here was Doc, on the natch, caught in a low-level bummer he couldn't find a way out of, about how the Psychedelic Sixties, this little parenthesis of light, might close after all, and all be lost, taken back into darkness ... ~ Thomas Pynchon