Ghost Of St Giles Quotes

His eyes were dark, dangerous, and not at all cold. He burned with an internal inferno she wanted to touch. She stared into the gaze of a tiger and knew, even as she watched the cat retreat into the camouflage of a gentleman: The Duke of Wakefield was the Ghost of St. Giles. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

You do have to save my brother," she said, "because if you do not I will tell everyone in England that you are the Ghost of St. Giles. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Holding her gaze, he sheathed his short sword and pulled the gauntlet off his left hand with his teeth. He held out his bare hand to her.
She glanced at the proffered hand before laying her palm in his. Hot strength gripped her tightly as he pulled her upright before him, so close she would've had to move only inches to brush her lips across his throat. She watched the pulse of his blood beat there, strong and sure, before she lifted her gaze. His head was cocked almost as if he were examining her - searching for something in her face.
She drew in a breath, parting her lips to ask a question. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Under my head till morning; but the rain, Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh, Upon the glass and listen for reply ... ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

They bear down upon Westminster, the ghost-consecrated Abbey, and the history-crammed Hall, through the arches of the bridge with a rush as the tide swelters round them; the city is buried in a dusky gloom save where the lights begin to gleam and trail with lurid reflections past black velvety- looking hulls - a dusky city of golden gleams. St. Paul's looms up like an immense bowl reversed, squat, un-English, and undignified in spite of its great size; they dart within the sombre shadows of the Bridge of Sighs, and pass the Tower of London, with the rising moon making the sky behind it luminous, and the crowd of shipping in front appear like a dense forest of withered pines, and then mooring their boat at the steps beyond, with a shuddering farewell look at the eel-like shadows and the glittering lights of that writhing river, with its burthen seen and invisible, they plunge into the purlieus of Wapping.
("The Phantom Model") ~ Hume Nisbet

[Roger] "Do you know how amazingly beautiful you are to me?"
"As beautiful as you are to me." She slid her gaze down then back up with one of those secret smiles that played havoc with a man's mind.
He shook his head. "Nah, I couldn't be, because you'd be insane with your need to just watch me. You'd ache every moment to just touch me. Your nights would be consumed with dreams of me and you'd live every moment just to love me. ~ Jennifer St. Giles

But the rain Is full of ghosts tonight ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

Mary has produced, together with the Holy Ghost the greatest thing which has been or ever will be - a God-Man; and she will consequently produce the greatest saints that there will be in the end of time. The formation and the education of the great saints who shall come at the end of the world are reserved for her. For it is only that singular and miraculous Virgin who can produce, in union with the Holy Ghost, singular and extraordinary things. ~ St. Louis De Montfort

I have had so many Dwellings, Nat, that I know these Streets as well as a strowling Beggar: I was born in this Nest of Death and Contagion and now, as they say, I have learned to feather it. When first I was with Sir Chris. I found lodgings in Phenix Street off Hogg Lane, close by St Giles and Tottenham Fields, and then in later times I was lodged at the corner of Queen Street and Thames Street, next to the Blew Posts in Cheapside. (It is still there, said Nat stirring up from his Seat, I have passed it!) In the time before the Fire, Nat, most of the buildings in London were made of timber and plaister, and stones were so cheap that a man might have a cart-load of them for six-pence or seven-pence; but now, like the Aegyptians, we are all for Stone. (And Nat broke in, I am for Stone!) The common sort of People gawp at the prodigious Rate of Building and exclaim to each other London is now another City or that House was not there Yesterday or the Situacion of the Streets is quite Changd (I contemn them when they say such things! Nat adds). But this Capital City of the World of Affliction is still the Capitol of Darknesse, or the Dungeon of Man's Desires: still in the Centre are no proper Streets nor Houses but a Wilderness of dirty rotten Sheds, allways tumbling or takeing Fire, with winding crooked passages, lakes of Mire and rills of stinking Mud, as befits the smokey grove of Moloch. (I have heard of that Gentleman, says Nat all a quiver). It is true that in what we call th ~ Peter Ackroyd

Temperance Dews stood with quiet confidence, a respectable women who lived in the sewer that was St. Giles. Her eyes had widened at the sight of Lazarus, but she made no move to flee. Indeed, finding a strange man in her pathetic sitting room seemed not to frighten her at all.

Interesting.

"I am Lazarus Huntington, Lord Caire," he said.

"I know. What are you doing here?"

He tilted his head, studying her. She knew him, yet did not recoil in horror? Yes, she'd do quite well. "I've come to make a proposition to you, Mrs. Dews."

Still no sign of fear, though she eyed the doorway. "You've chosen the wrong woman, my lord. The night is late. Please leave my house."

No fear and no deference to his rank. An interesting woman indeed.

"My proposition is not, er, illicit in nature," he drawled. "In fact, it's quite respectable. Or nearly so."

She sighed, looked down at her tray, and then back up at him. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

He almost smiled. Tea? When had he last been offered something so very prosaic by a woman? He couldn't remember.

But he replied gravely enough. "Thank you, no."

She nodded. "Then if you don't mind?"

He waved a hand to indicate permission.

She set the tea tray on the wretched little table and sat on the padded footstool to pour herself a cup. He watched her. She was a monochromatic study. Her dress, bodice, hose, and s ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Looking down she arched her back, giving him more. His tanned complexion against her milky, slightly freckled skin was visually stark and sexually exciting. She watched as his mouth claimed her other nipple, stroking it with his tongue, and her vision blurred as he rhythmically rocked his erection against her sex.
Hot, damp, desperate, she braced herself with her hands on his knees behind her and met him thrust for thrust, pushing hard. Breathing as heavy as he was, she trembled with the flash fire of passion overtaking them both. ~ Jennifer St. Giles

Get me some Midol, all right?"
Benjamin all but choked. Leon studies the ceiling with a great deal of interest, a smile twitching at the corners of his thin mouth. While Benjamin looked ready to sink into the floor, Leon looked highly amused.
I decided I liked him.
"I think you should pick your own Midol." Graves even said it with a straight face, but there was a ghost of a grin quirking his lips ... "Cause, you know, there's different types. ~ Lili St. Crow

Even like as St. Paul was converted, just so are all others converted; for we all resist God, but the Holy Ghost draws the will of mankind, when he pleases, through preaching. ~ Martin Luther

I love you," she said, speaking clearly so that there might be no confusion. "I love you utterly and completely. I love your elegant hands and the way you smile with only one side of your mouth - when you smile at all - and I love how grave your eyes are. I love that you let me invade your house with nearly my entire family and yours, and never even turned a hair. I love that you made love to me when I asked you, purely for politeness' sake, and I love that you got mad at me later and made me make love to you. I love that you let Her Grace and her puppies construct a nest out of your shirts in your dressing room. I love that you've spent years selflessly saving people in St. Giles - although I want you to stop right now. I love that you killed a man for me, even if I'm still mad at you about it. I love that you saved my letters before we even knew each other well, and I love the curt, overly serious letters you wrote to me in return."

She looked at him very seriously.

"I love you, Godric St. John, and now I'm breaking my word. I will not leave you. You may either come with me to Laurelwood or I'll stay here with you in your musty old house in London and drive you mad with all my talking and relatives and… and exotic sexual positions until you break down and love me back, for I'm warning you that I'm not giving up until you love me and we're a happy family with dozens of children."

She paused at that point because she'd run out of breath ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

We ran and the ghost of Graves ran with us. ~ Lili St. Crow

Her sheath clamped his erection like a burning fist as her body demanded he follow her over the edge. Physically that was already happening. Big time. He was buried all the way in with his balls kissing her sweet ass as the biggest orgasm of his life blew his mind. He literally saw stars. But it didn't end there. Emotionally and spiritually she was sucking him into her and he was driving harder and harder to get there himself as his gaze locked with hers. She grabbed his heavy necklace and pulled his mouth to hers, demanding and claiming, giving no quarter. They rode out the pleasure, wave after wave, milking every drop of it together with moans, touches, tiny thrusts, and sealing it all with an endless kiss that left him breathless - soulless - everything-less. She stole it all. ~ Jennifer St. Giles

St. Augustine is not only the oldest continuously-occupied European settlement on the American continent, it is also perhaps the most haunted city in the United States. Seemingly every spot in this city has some ghostly hidden history, right below the surface. Just by strolling through the historic streets you can hear the whispers of the long-dead. ~ James Caskey

They entered the summer parlor, where the Ravenels chatted amiably with his sisters, Phoebe and Seraphina.
Phoebe, the oldest of the Challon siblings, had inherited their mother's warm and deeply loving nature, and their father's acerbic wit. Five years ago she had married her childhood sweetheart, Henry, Lord Clare, who had suffered from a chronic illness for most of his life. The worsening symptoms had gradually reduced him to a shadow of the man he'd once been, and he'd finally succumbed while Phoebe was pregnant with their second child. Although the first year of mourning was over, Phoebe hadn't yet returned to her former self. She went outdoors so seldom that her freckles had vanished, and she looked wan and thin. The ghost of grief still lingered in her gaze.
Their younger sister, Seraphina, an effervescent eighteen-year-old with strawberry-blonde hair, was talking to Cassandra. Although Seraphina was old enough to have come out in society by now, the duke and duchess had persuaded her to wait another year. A girl with her sweet nature, her beauty, and her mammoth dowry would be targeted by every eligible man in Europe and beyond. For Seraphina, the London Season would be a gauntlet, and the more prepared she was, the better. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I reached for a pair of my own, intrigued. "Why not? Did the ancient Gaels not wear undergarments?" Frank leered. "You've never heard that old song about what a Scotsman wears beneath his kilts?" "Presumably not gents' knee-length step-ins," I said dryly. "Perhaps I'll go out in search of a local kilt-wearer whilst you're cavorting with vicars and ask him." "Well, do try not to get arrested, Claire. The dean of St. Giles College wouldn't like it at all." In ~ Diana Gabaldon

I believe that you wanted to love Marie - that you're enamored by the idea of love - but that you have no concept what love is. I think that's what you're searching for in St. Giles - some source of emotion, some inkling of what human feeling really is. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

She [Angie] looked at the plate he'd set down. "You're not hungry?"
"I'm starving. Hungrier than I've ever been in my entire life." He'd waited for weeks for the right time and even though it was the worst timing possible, he couldn't wait a second more.
Her jaw dropped as he took her plate from her wobbly grip.
"I, uh, am in desperate need of a shower."
"Me too," he whispered, then leaned in and pressed his mouth to her lush lips. She opened immediately for him, inviting his tongue and more as she sighed and sank closer against him. He thrust deep into her mouth, tasting the spicy sauce, tasting her, and plundered for more as pleasure washed over him like a benediction from heaven. ~ Jennifer St. Giles

Charles Fort was erected in 1667 by the Duke of Ormonde. It is said to be haunted by a ghost known as the "White Lady, ~ St John D. Seymour

The hardest part of ghost writing other people's stories is capturing their voices so that it isn't you talking, it's them. ~ Michael Robotham

Do ghosts drink tea?
They don't, said Tansey. But this ghost would love to see a cup of tea in front of her. It'd be lovely. ~ Roddy Doyle

Asleep was the way Harry liked the Dursleys best; it wasn't as though they were ever any help to him awake. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were Harry's only living relatives. They were Muggles who hated and despised magic in any form, which meant that Harry was about as welcome in their house as dry rot. They had explained away Harry's long absences at Hogwarts over the last three years by telling everyone that he went to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. They knew perfectly well that, as an underage wizard, Harry wasn't allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts, but they were still apt to blame him for anything that went wrong about the house. Harry had never been able to confide in them or tell them anything about his life in the Wizarding world. The very idea of going to them when they awoke, and telling them about his scar hurting him, and about his worries about Voldemort, was laughable. ~ J.K. Rowling

Naturally, I was a bit of a curiosity, being the first hydrogen peroxide ingestion patient they had ever seen. ~ Lara St. John

It's obvious that St. Louis has certain advantages compared to other cities: namely, a concentration of financial services. ~ Jim McKelvey

With McClure's support, Steffens embarked on an odyssey. For the better part of three years, he called on people in St. Louis, Minneapolis, Pittsburgh, Chicago, Philadelphia, New York, Cleveland, and Madison. "My business is to find subjects and writers, to educate myself in the way the world is wagging, so as to bring the magazine up to date," he explained to his father. "I feel ready to do something really fine. ~ Doris Kearns Goodwin

As we were baptized, so we profess our belief. As we profess our belief, so also we offer praise. As then baptism has been given us by the Savior, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, so, in accordance with our baptism, we make the confession of the creed, and our doxology in accordance with our creed. ~ Saint Basil

Go forward without fear. Do not fear the future. Do not fear whatever is ahead of you. Take hold of that supernal gift of the Holy Ghost. Learn to be taught by it. Learn to call upon it. Learn to live by it. And the Spirit of the Lord will attend you, and you will be blessed as it was intended that we should all be blessed by this gift. ~ Boyd K. Packer

We are all welcome to come into the waters of baptism. He was baptized to witness to His Father that He would be obedient in keeping His commandments. He was baptized to show us that we should receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. ~ Robert D. Hales

After watching - with a twinge of satisfaction - the letters burn to ashes in the fireplace, Evie felt sleepy. She went to the master bedroom for a nap. In spite of her weariness, it was difficult to relax while she was worried about Sebastian. Her thoughts chased round and round, until her tired brain put an end to the useless fretting and she dropped off to sleep.
When she awakened an hour or so later, Sebastian was sitting on the bed beside her, a lock of her bright hair clasped loosely between a thumb and forefinger. He was watching her closely, his eyes the color of heaven at daybreak. She sat up and smiled self-consciously.
Gently Sebastian stroked back her tumbled hair. "You look like a little girl when you sleep," he murmured. "It makes me want to guard you every minute."
"Did you find Mr. Bullard?"
"Yes, and no. First tell me what you did while I was gone."
"I helped Cam to arrange things in the office. And I burned all your letters from lovelorn ladies. The blaze was so large, I'm surprised no one sent for a fire brigade."
His lips curved in a smile, but his gaze probed hers carefully. "Did you read any of them?"
Evie lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant half shrug. "A few. There were inquiries as to whether or not you've yet tired of your wife."
"No." Sebastian drew his palm along the line of her thigh. "I'm tired of countless evenings of repetitive gossip and tepid flirtation. I'm tired of meaningless encounters with wom ~ Lisa Kleypas

Fusing the doctrines of Plotinus and Proclus with the creeds and beliefs of Christianity, Dionysius the Pseudo-Areopagite combined the Neo-Platonic conviction of the fundamental oneness and luminous aliveness of the world with the Christian dogmas of the triune God, original sin and redemption. The universe is created, animated and unified by the perpetual self-realization of what Plotinus had called "the One," what the Bible had called "the Lord," and what he calls "the superessential Light. ~ Erwin Panofsky

It is better to leave each one in his own opinion than to enter into arguments. ~ Therese De Lisieux

There are no words, not in English, Spanish, Arabic, or Hebrew, that have been invented to explain what it's like to lose a child. The nightmarish heartache of it. The unexplainable trepidation that follows. No mother loses a child without believing she failed as a parent. No father loses a child without believing he failed to protect his family from pain. The child may be gone, but the yearsthe child were meant to live remain behind, solid in the mind like an aging ghost. The birthdays, the holidays, the last days of school - they all remain, circled in red lipstick on a calendar nailed to the wall. A constant shadow that grows, even in the dark. As I was saying…there are no words. ~ D.E. Eliot

There was Ffloyd, the Human Money Tree: the music would suddenly stop and Ffloyd would run through the room, naked, with a hundred one-dollar bills taped to his body. He ran in one door and out the other. A free-for-all ensued and whatever you grabbed was yours to keep.
That idea proved so popular, it morphed into the $1,000 Drop. Michael would stand on a table and toss a thousand dollar bills to an often violent mob. Of course, he usually pocketed $990 and passed the remaining ten on to tip-challenged friends. But two hundred blue-faced freaks still screamed and cried and clawed and climbed to get to Michael; why, you would have thought the New Kids on the Block were masturbating on stage, the way everybody carried on. ~ James St. James

Do not allow your daughters to be taught letters by a man, though he be a St. Paul or St. Francis of Assissium. The saints are in Heaven. ~ Alphonsus Liguori

Adam lived in an apartment located above the office of St. Agnes Catholic Church, a fortuitous combination that focused most of the objects of Ronan's worship into one downtown block. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

It isn't possible," she said. "But there it is. Look again." In the distance, pinpricks of light arranged into a grid. There, plainly visible on the side of a hill some miles distant: a town, or a village, whose streets were lit up with electricity. ~ Emily St. John Mandel

Live in this world without being from this world... look at all saints who lived in this earth.. look how meekness they were... st francis of assis , buddha , vivekananda , ramakhrisna , gandhi , pahvari baba , thomas kempis , jesus.. blessed they are... ~ Lucas Gialluisi

The God of St. Thomas and Dante is a God Who loves, the god of Aristotle is a god who does not refuse to be loved; the love that moves the heavens and the stars in Aristotle is the love of the heavens and the stars for god, but the love that moves them in St. Thomas and Dante is the love of God for the world; between these two motive causes there is all the difference between an efficient cause on the one hand, and a final cause on the other. ~ Etienne Gilson

Fights aren't won in the octagon, they're won in the months leading up to them, in a near-empty gym, in the lost hours of a day, whether I feel like it or not. ~ Georges St-Pierre

Phryne looked at a large statue of St. Joseph, for whom she had always had an admiration. It can't have been easy, managing a girl with an inexplicable pregnancy. But he had accepted the word of the Lord and not put her away. Later generations had not been so forgiving. ~ Kerry Greenwood

I have a boyfriend who's a ghost, I thought. Of course I'm living in a dreamworld. ~ Jeri Smith-Ready

By a merging and interplay of identities between himself and his beautiful room, he might be preparing a ghost for the future; it had not occurred to him that there might have been a similar merging and coalescence in the past. Oliver Onions The Beckoning Fair One ~ Adam Nevill

And what do we have here? A scary monster, cowboy, and a fairy princess! Here's a hit of ecstasy, run along now. ~ James St. James

The modern mind is merely a blank about the philosophy of toleration; and the average agnostic of recent times has really had no notion of what he meant by religious liberty and equality. He took his own ethics as self-evident and enforced them; such as decency or the error of the Adamite heresy. Then he was horribly shocked if he heard of anybody else, Moslem or Christian, taking his ethics as self-evident and enforcing them; such as reverence or the error of the Atheist heresy. And then he wound up by taking all this lop-sided illogical deadlock, of the unconscious meeting the unfamiliar, and called it the liberality of his own mind. Medieval men thought that if a social system was founded on a certain idea it must fight for that idea, whether it was as simple as Islam or as carefully balanced as Catholicism. Modern men really think the same thing, as is clear when communists attack their ideas of property. Only they do not think it so clearly, because they have not really thought out their idea of property. ~ G.K. Chesterton

The closer one approaches to God, the simpler one becomes. ~ Teresa Of Avila

Detective-story writers give this thrill by exploiting the resources of the possible; however improbable the happenings in a detective story, they can and must be explained in terms that satisfy the reason. But in a ghost story, where natural laws are dispensed with, the whole point is that the happenings cannot be so explained.
A ghost story that is capable of a rational explanation is as much an anomaly as a detective story that isn't.
The one is in revolt against a materialistic conception of the universe, whereas the other depends on it. ~ L.P. Hartley

So you know you're a ghost?"
I looked at my hands; they were transparent and glowed faintly. "Can you think of another explanation? ~ Christina Dodd

But we are not just called to be candles. We are called to be fire. Candles can be snuffed out by the slightest wind or by the smallest child on their birthday. But it's harder to put out a fire. We are to be fire, to weave our lives together so that the Spirit's inferno of love spreads across the earth. ~ Shane Claiborne

Behold those times re-created by
the brutal power of sunlit images,
the light of life's tragedy.
The walls of the trial, the field
of the firing squad; and the distant
ghost of Rome's suburbs in a ring,
gleaming white in naked light.
Gunshots: our death, our survival. ~ Pier Paolo Pasolini