Dorian Blackwell Quotes

You understand, don't you, Mrs. Mackenzie?" Blackwell murmured, his hard mouth barely moving as the intensity of his regard pinned her to her seat. "The deeds of a willful youth."
A thrill of danger kissed her spine.
"Horseshit!" Morley roared.
Dorian turned back to face him, and Farah was able to let out a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding as the black spell he'd woven over her suddenly dissipated.
"For shame, Morley," he mockingly chided. "Such language in front of a lady."
"She is my employee," Sir Morley gritted through clenched teeth. "And I'll thank you not to bother about her if you want to keep the vision in the eye you have left."
"I can hardly help myself. She's such a ripe piece of skirt. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

Still canna resist the draw of the devil."
A tremor sliced through Farah at the old woman's words. Dougan had called himself a demon the first time they'd met. If that sweet boy had been a demon, then Dorian Blackwell certainly was the devil.
And Farah was, indeed, helpless to resist his dark allure. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

A dark shadow leaped from the stairs, his long coat flowing behind him like demon wings, landing in between her and Warrington.
Dorian.
He looked like the devil, come to take his minion. His hair black as obsidian. His scarred eye glittering with so many dark things, Farah couldn't identify a single one through her shock. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

Blackwell had become that jaguar she'd evoked the first time she'd laid eyes on him. His shoulders rolled and bunched just so he settled in for a feast. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

Christopher Argent kept stealing disbelieving looks at Farah, his blue eyes reflecting the ambient glow like an alley cat's. Dorian understood why the man would dare in his presence.
First, because Christopher Argent was an unfeeling, fearless killer-for-hire.
And second, because most of the incarcerated men at Newgate had considered Dougan's Fairy some mythical creature, a sight too rare and beautiful to be beheld by a common man. Maybe even a fancy born of an imagination keen enough to take possession of the prison. To meet her was to gaze upon a fantasy realized, to remember the desperate yearnings of a lonely prisoner bereft of kindness, mercy, or beauty. To be blinded by the embodiment of all three of those things. For a man like Argent, one born to incarceration, the sight might have him reassessing some long-held cynical philosophies. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

As much as I approve of your change in tactics, Morley, dangling this tasty piece in front of me still won't have the desired effect." Blackwell's voice reached out to her like the first unwelcome tendrils of frost in winter. Deep, smooth, caustic, and bitter cold. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

An eye patch covered his damaged eye, only allowing glimpses of the edge of his scar, but the message illuminated by the fire didn't need both eyes to be conveyed.
'I have you now.'
How true that was. Her life depended on the mercy of this man who was infamous for his lack of mercy. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

Oh, Dougan, why send me this dark horse?' Farah inwardly railed. 'Why ask the devil in the flesh to find and protect me?'
Young Dougan couldn't have known how the man in front of her would affect her. How dangerous he truly was, because of the reckless impulses pouring through her veins and settling in the most secret of places.
He couldn't have known how much Dorian Blackwell secretly thrilled her. How his eyes on her made her feel helpless and powerful at the same time. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

And you consider yourself as what, some sort of Count of Monte Cristo?"
He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Not particularly, though the book is a favorite of mine."
Farah frowned. "I thought you said you couldn't read."
That Dorian Blackwell could laugh at a time like this astounded her. But he did. The sound so devoid of true mirth, it caused goose pimples to rise on her skin and her nipples to tighten painfully. It was a dark sound, like the rest of him, and it washed over her with chilling totality. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

Rich as Midas, they said, powerful as a Caesar, and ruthless as the devil. So he didn't have a pretty face for the ladies to coo over, but a man such as Dorian Blackwell drew feminine notice wherever he prowled. Fear and fascination proved to be powerful tools of seduction, and women reacted one way or the other toward the dark giant. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

Of all the evil Farah had had a chance to glimpse in this room, Dorian Blackwell's smile, full of his own blood and teeth and challenge, had to be the most frightening Farah had witnessed in her entire life. His eyes were dead, devoid of any hope or humanity, the milky blue one utterly motionless but for the reflection of the torchlight lending it an unnatural pagan gleam. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

As the soap slid through sparse curls and into the cleft between her thighs, ribbons of unexpected sensation stirred from her most intimate flesh and unfurled across the expanse of her skin. Her mouth dropped open, but she caught the moan before it escaped.
Their gazes collided, the flames in his eyes darkened as his pupils dilated.
He knew. Though he could see nothing, he knew exactly where her fingers drifted, and precisely where the soap slicked over already moistened skin.
Despite her mortification, Farah also marveled. She'd been bathing for almost three decades and, while she'd found a tremor of pleasure whilst lingering here, it had never been so achingly insistent, so full of demand and promise.
That demand, those promises, were mirrored in the stare of Dorian Blackwell. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

Farah gaped, unable to fathom his brutality. She shouldn't be shocked, she'd been around the worst sort of criminals for more years than she'd care to admit. But, somehow, it astounded her that one so cultured, so relaxed and wealthy and tailored, could issue such a threat with a civil tongue. The criminals of her acquaintance were dirty and foul with explosive tempers and crude language. Blackwell threatened violence as though discussing the price of Irish potatoes. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

What's your name?" he asked above the roar of the music.
She leaned close. "My name is Wind," she whispered. "And Rain. And Bone and Dust. My name is a snippet of a half-remembered song."
He chuckled a low, delightful sound. She was drunk and silly, and so full of the glory of being young and alive and in the capital of the world that she could hardly contain herself.
"I have no name," she purred. "I am whoever the keepers of my fate tell me to be."
He grasped her by her wrist, running a thumb along the sensitive sknin underneath. "Then let me call you Mine for a dance or two. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Once a state has completely withered away, it is an extremely difficult task to re-create it, as Blackwell quickly discovered. If Blackwell had been under any illusions that the Quakers were a meek and passive people, he was in for a rude surprise. He was to find very quickly that devotion to peace, to liberty, and to individualism in no sense implies passive resignation to tyranny. Quite the contrary. ~ Murray N. Rothbard

I never liked the whole thing about pictures with the artists. You look back at an Elvis Presley record, and you don't see any producer credits, because the audience is not supposed to know about the producer credit. ~ Chris Blackwell

Why did you come back here, then? Why risk it? Couldn't you find a place where you wouldn't have any other Packs to deal with?"
He cupped my face in his hands, his thumb gently brushing a snowflake from my eyelashes.
"You know why I came back."
My heart started beating against my ribcage as if it was trying to break free. "The fried chicken they serve at The Farmhouse?"
"I came back for you, Scout."
I had to say something. Something clever. Something dazzling. Something to make this moment perfect.
"I hope the snow sticks. ~ Tammy Blackwell

It was knowledge that could change everything. It could change the world. Dorian ~ Sarah J. Maas

This wasn't my plan." "I know," Dorian said with a half smile. "That's why you don't like it." Manon ~ Sarah J. Maas

I want people to enjoy the simplicity in the natural. ~ Chris Blackwell

The idea of winning a doctor's degree gradually assumed the aspect of a great moral struggle, and the moral fight possessed immense attraction for me. ~ Elizabeth Blackwell

After a moment, his father looked up from the list and surveyed her. "Well done, Champion. Well done indeed."
Then Celaena and the King of Adarlan smiled at each other, and it was the most terrifying thing Dorian had ever seen.
"Tell my exchequer to give you double last month's payment," the king said. Dorian felt his gorge rise- not just for the severed head and her blood- stiffened clothing, but also for the fact that he could not, for the life of him, find the girl had loved anywhere in her face. And from Chaol's expression, he knew his friend felt the same.
Celaena bowed dramatically to the king, flourishing a hand before her. Then, with a smile devoid of any warmth, she stared down Chaol before stalking from the room, her dark cape sweeping behind her.
Silence. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Never miss a political meeting if you think there's the slightest chance you'll wish you'd been there. ~ Morton Blackwell

Make the opponents' goal more expensive than it's worth. ~ Morton Blackwell

Success in relationships takes death to the flesh. Singles stop begging for what you won't die for and couples start dying so your marriage can live. ~ Hope D. Blackwell

Of course it's all-consuming, but love- real love- doesn't destroy or smother. It's the very opposite of a weakness. Love strengthens. It liberates. It molds itself to every fiber of your being and fortifies you where where you may be broken. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

Basil Hallward is what I think I am: Lord Henry what the world thinks me: Dorian what I would like to be - in other ages, perhaps. ~ Oscar Wilde

I find him in the curves of certain lines, in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours. ~ Oscar Wilde

I don't know how long we stayed frozen in that moment, but it was a long time. Sometimes I think there are parts of us still there, forever staring into the emotional maelstrom of one another's eyes. ~ Tammy Blackwell

The whole thing made me a little wrist-slitty. ~ Tammy Blackwell

His hands clenched. Sugar, I'm this close to tearing off your clothes and teaching you exactly how badly I take you keeping secrets from me. Your choice. Talk or get naked. ~ Nalini Singh

The gargoyles were worth the climb: Some seemed so real they could easily have been demons turned to stone. One appeared to be biting the head off of some much smaller creature - a tiny man? - clutched in his claws. Another was contemplative, his monkeylike face resting in the palms of his oversized hands, as he observed his domain. Others stuck out their tongues, bared their teeth, made faces. Their expressions were so elastic and whimsical it was hard to believe they were carved of stone. ~ Juliet Blackwell

You look ill," Matthew observed. "Is it my dancing? Is it me personally?"
"Perhaps I'm nervous," she said. "Lucie did say you didn't like many people."
Matthew gave a sharp, startled laugh, before schooling his face back into a look of lazy amusement. "Did she? Lucie's a chatterbox."
"But not a liar," she said.
"Well, fear not. I do not dislike you. I hardly know you," said Matthew. "I do know your brother. He made my life miserable at school, and Christopher's, and James's."
"Alastair and I are very different," Cordelia said. She didn't want to say more than that. It felt disloyal to Alastair. "I like Oscar Wilde, for instance, and he does not."
The corner of Matthew's mouth curled up. "I see you go directly for the soft underbelly, Cordelia Carstairs. Have you really read Oscar's work?"
"Just Dorian Gray," Cordelia confessed. "It gave me nightmares."
"I should like to have a portrait in the attic," Matthew mused, "that would show all my sins, while I stayed young and beautiful. And not only for sinning purposes - imagine being able to try out new fashions on it. I could paint the portrait's hair blue and see how it looks."
"You don't need a portrait. You are young and beautiful," Cordelia pointed out.
"Men are not beautiful. Men are handsome," objected Matthew.
"Thomas is handsome. You are beautiful," said Cordelia, feeling the imp of the perverse stealing over her. Matthew was looking stubborn. "James is beautiful too, ~ Cassandra Clare

For what is done or learned by one class of women becomes, by virtue of their common womanhood, the property of all women. ~ Elizabeth Blackwell

She leaned against the stone wall of the narrow landing, a hand on her thundering heart. It was the smart thing to do, the right thing to do. She had survived this long, and would only survive the road ahead if she continued to be unnoticed, reliable, quiet.

But she did't want to be unnoticed - not with him, not forever.
He made her want to laugh and sing and shake the world with her voice. ~ Sarah J. Maas

I have been right, Basil, haven't I, to take my love out of poetry, and to find my wife in Shakespeare's plays? Lips that Shakespeare taught to speak have whispered their secret in my ear. I have had the arms of Rosalind around me, and kissed Juliet on the mouth. ~ Oscar Wilde

Basically, I'm not interested in doing research and I never have been ... I'm interested in understanding, which is quite a different thing. And often to understand something you have to work it out yourself because no one else has done it. ~ David Blackwell

The first step on the path to positive change is acknowledgement that change is necessary and possible. Open yourself to the possibility of seeing the world in a new way. What do you have to lose? ~ Alex Blackwell

Everything that mattered, I learned from surfing. ~ Dorian "Doc" Paskowitz

What the ... ? "Holy S***! You're 250 years old!?"
He gives me a wink of his beautiful eye in response. "Surprised?"
"Um, hell yeah. Ok, that's pretty much disgusting. Chester the Molester. I've been screwing an ancient artefact!" Dorian & Gabriella ~ S.L. Jennings

Life has everything in store for you, Dorian. There is nothing that you, with your extraordinary good looks, will not be able to do."
"But suppose, Harry, I became haggard, and old, and wrinkled? What then?"
"Ah, then," said Lord Henry, rising to go, "then, my dear Dorian, you would have to fight for your victories. As it is, they are brought to you. No, you must keep your good looks. We live in an age that reads too much to be wise, and that thinks too much to be beautiful. We cannot spare you." (8.19) ~ Oscar Wilde

A jewelry box? Ballerinas? She'd been such an active girl that any jewelry she'd been given would have been lost or broken right away. It was Faye Marie who'd loved-
"My sister," she gasped, then louder. "My sister!" She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. "My lord, I beg pardon of you, but you're mistaken. I believe you gifted that treasure box to my older sister, Faye Marie. She's the one who loved ballerinas. I was obsessed with-"
"Pegasus." The old justice's eyes melted from cold to kindness. "It was a trick question. I'd forgotten your birthday was so close to mine, and shared my spice cake out of pure guilt." His lined face wrinkled as he smiled with a fond memory. "You were a kind little soul, unspoiled for a girl raised in such wealth. You forgave me instantly and informed me that spice cake was, indeed, your favorite present ever received. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

He grasped her by the wrist , running a thumb along the sensitive skin underneath. "Then let me call you Mine for a dance or two"

She grinned but someone was suddenly between them, a tall, powerfully built person. Sam. He ripped the stranger's hand off of her wrist. "She's spoken for," he growled, all too close to the young man's maked face. The stranger's friend was behind him in an instant, his bronze eyes fixed on Sam.

Celaena grabbed Sam's elbow. "Enough," she warned him.

The masked stranger looked Sam up and down, then held up his hands. "My mistake," he said, but winked at Celaena before disappeared into the crowd, his armed friend close behind.

Celaena whirled to face Sam. "What in hell was that for?"

"You're drunk," he told her, so close her chest brushed his, "And he knew it, too."

"So?" Even as she said it, someone dancing wildly crashed into her and set her reeling. Sam caught her around the waist, his hands firm on her as he kept her from falling to the ground.

"You'll thank me in the morning."

"Just because we're working together doesn't mean I'm suddenly incapable of handling myself." His hands were still on her waist.

"Let me take you home. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Take full ownership if your thoughts, then you can start taking full ownership of your life and the impact you will make with it. ~ Trish Blackwell

Make me forget." A whisper, a plea.
Not giving her what she wanted wasn't even an option. He switched their positions so she was under him. "Aren't you afraid I'll take advantage?"
She wiped away her tears. "Please do."
"Ask nice."
"Why don't I make you angry instead? That gets me kissed a lot. ~ Nalini Singh

And why is he here?" "Because an illustrious client has placed her piteous case in my hands. It is the Lady Eva Blackwell, the most beautiful debutante of last season. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

There's something in there," Matt said. "Something alive. It punched me."
"Punched you?" Baldwin's face screwed up. "Are you sure a bat didn't fly into you? I bet there are a few in there."
Matt rubbed his tender jaw. "Unless its name is Bruce Wayne, that wasn't a bat. ~ K.L. Armstrong

There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, either after one of those dreamless nights that make us almost enamoured of death, or one of those nights of horror and misshapen joy, when through the chambers of the brain sweep phantoms more terrible than reality itself, and instinct with that vivid life that lurks in all grotesques, and that lends to Gothic art its enduring vitality... Veil after veil of thin dusky gauze is lifted, and by degrees the forms and colors of things are restored to them, and we watch the dawn remaking the world in its antique pattern. The wan mirrors get back their mimic life... Nothing seems to us changed. Out of the unreal shadows of the night comes back the real life that we had known. We have to resume it where we had left off, and there steals over us a terrible sense of the necessity for the continuance of energy in the same wearisome round of stereotyped habits, or a wild longing, it may be, that our eyelids might open some morning upon a world that had been refashioned anew in the darkness... a world in which the past would have little or no place, or survive, at any rate, in no conscious form of obligation and regret... It was the creation of such worlds as these that seemed to Dorian Gray to be the true object... of life. ~ Oscar Wilde

Dorian gave a smug grin. "My mate thinks I'm the most gorgeous leopard she ever saw."
"Show us the footage before your head explodes," Lucas muttered, but his own cat was grinning to see Dorian so happy. The sentinel had been latent most of his life, unable to shift into leopard form. Now that he could, he did so at every opportunity. "Have you managed to catch a rabbit yet?"
A single eloquent finger. "Fuck you."
Lucas snickered. "What about trying for a turtle?"
Dorian lunged out of the chair and went for Lucas's throat. ~ Nalini Singh

The path to added muscle is consuming more calories than the amount needed to keep your current bodyweight unchanged. ~ Dorian Yates

Effort is admirable. Achievement is valuable. ~ Morton Blackwell

Slavery is malignantly aristocratic. ~ Antoinette Brown Blackwell

Shoulder width is an absolute requirement for displaying the V taper that will make or break your physique. ~ Dorian Yates

Ask yourself something. Have you ever thought about why guys want you gone the next day? It's not because they've got things to do, though I'm sure there are a few assholes who think like that, either because they repeated the folly so often they learned to bury the guilt or because they didn't have a conscience to begin with but, truthfully, it's because they can't stand to look at the reason they feel a hole in their chest. They don't like reminders of who helped put that sick feeling in the pits of their stomachs. As long as they had a decent mama, the guilt is always substantial. Always. If they say differently, they're liars. - Spencer Blackwell, GREED ~ Fisher Amelie

It is a well-established fact that in healthy loving women, uninjured by the too frequent lesions which result from childbirth, increasing physical satisfaction attaches to the ultimate physical expression of love ... Love between the sexes is the highest and mightiest form of human sexual passion. ~ Elizabeth Blackwell

Know that every day we wake up is an opportunity to ride up, and be the best we can be. ~ Trish Blackwell

I'd discovered that when the most precious thing in your life could slip through
your fingers, investments, money, those
things suddenly meant absolutely jack.
Spencer Blackwell ~ Fisher Amelie

What o'clock is it, Victor? asked Dorian Gray, sleepily. ~ Oscar Wilde