Her Little Bro Stinks Quotes

Okay, I know she thinks her little bro stinks but that sounds like she's tracking him by his stench. ~ Jazz Feylynn

Jacob smiled from ear to ear when he shook the man's hand on stage. The man then handed him a trophy. "Tell the audience about your book."
My little brother confidently walked up to a microphone his height and beamed to the crowd. "I wrote about the person I love the most, my older brother, Noah. We don't live together so I wrote what I imagine he does when we're not together."
"And what is that?" prodded the stout man.
"He's a superhero who saves people in danger, because he saved me and my brother from dying in a fire a couple of years ago. Noah is better than Batman." The crowd chuckled.
"I love you, too, lil' bro." I couldn't help it. To see him standing there, still worshipping me like he did when he was five … it was too much.
Jacob's smile reached a whole new level of excitement. "Noah!" He pointed right to me. "That's Noah. That's my brother, Noah!" Ignoring his foster parents, Jacob flew off the stage and ran down the middle aisle.
Joe lowered his head and Carrie rubbed her eyes. Jacob raced into my arms and the crowd erupted into applause.
"I've missed you, Noah." Jacob's voice broke, bringing tears to my eyes. I couldn't cry. Not in front of Jacob and not in front of Mrs. Collins. I needed to be a man and stay strong.
"I've missed you, too, bro. I'm so proud of you." ~ Katie McGarry

Genius, that one," Harper mutters. Cotton glares at her. "Don't worry, bro," Jaxon tells Cotton. "She's spicy. That's why we make a great couple. I like my women with a little ... " He shivers to emphasize his point. ~ Victoria Scott

"It's time, bro."
"No."
"Wraith, Shade is about to collapse."
Wraith glanced over at his brother, who was trembling so hard his teeth were
chattering. His dermoire's glow had faded and began to flicker.
"You've got to let her go."
A sob welled up in Wraith's throat. The moment Shade let go of Serena, she'd die.
And if the turning didn't take ...
I'll lose her forever.
Eidolon gave Wraith's shoulder a little squeeze. Oh, Gods ... Wraith closed his eyes
and nodded. Instantly, Shade's power cut off, and Serena's chest stopped moving. Her
heart thumped once. Twice.
And beat no more.
The only sound in the room after that was the sound of Wraith's scream. ~ Larissa Ione

Anything goes when everyone knows

Where do you hide when their highs are your lows?

So much, so hard, so long, so tired,

Let them eat until you're ground into nothing.

Don't you worry your glossy little lips.

What they savor 'ventually loses it's flavor.

I wanna lick, while you still taste like you.

Bookmark it, says the cheerleader

I promise we'll come back to this spot.

I have shit to do first. You won't wait a lot.

I can't make her stay,

and I can't watch her go.

I'll keep her hellfire heart,

And bookmark it 'fore it goes cold.

Fifty-seven times I didn't call

Fifty-seven letters I didn't send,

Fifty-seven stitches to breathe again, and then I fucking pretend.

Fifty-seven days to not need you

Fifty-seven times to give up on you

Fifty-seven steps away from you,

Fifty-seven nights of nothing but you. ~ Penelope Douglas

The last man she'd dated said something to her, shortly before they broke up: 'I don't know, maybe I'm boring, but I never really feel like you're there when we're out to dinner. You live in your head. I can't. No room for me in there. I don't know, maybe you'd be more interested in me if I were a book.'

She had hated him at the time, and hated herself a little, but later, looking back, Hutter had decided that even if that particular boyfriend had been a book, he would've been one from the Business & Finance aisle and she would've passed him by and looked for something in SF & Fantasy. ~ Joe Hill

If you guys want to get a MOM tattoo and save a little money, just get two letters done. Get about a one-inch capital M tattooed on each cheek of your ass in pink and brown ink. Then when you bend over, it says "Mom." Also, later on if you're havin' sex with your girlfriend, and her parents are in the next room, when you finish up you can just lie on your back, draw your legs up to your chest and silently say, 'Wow! ~ George Carlin

Ah! my poor Bahorel, she is a superb girl, very literary, with tiny feet, little hands, she dresses well, and is white and dimpled, with the eyes of a fortune-teller. I am wild over her. ~ Victor Hugo

Her nostrils found the scent of her womanly wetness, wafting from the seat below her. Maybe she'd climb in the back As she did, she slipped off her jeans and her white cotton panties, slightly damp white cotton panties now. She couldn't resist a little sniff. Now her ample soft, round buttocks would enjoy the cool ~ A.M. Ball

The first thing I saw was the pink bubble gum, four feet lower than it should have been, inches above the ground, and framed by a set of perfectly painted lips.
It was one of those huge bubbles you just know is going to pop and cover the girl's face, and she'll shriek and yell and whine that her makeup is ruined, blah, blah, blah. But the bubble didn't pop - she did that thing where you suck all the air back into your mouth, and the bubble deflated into a little pink heap. ~ Aprilynne Pike

Trace started to wave toward Matt, still with Priss wrapped around him, and she blurted, "I love you, Trace."
That effectively drew him to a halt. His hands contracted on her backside. "What?"
"I love you." Then she pointed at Chris, and to where Matt had disappeared. "They told me to fess up, so I am, and if you reject me, I swear I'll drown them both."
Very slowly, Trace's expression changed from the heat of anger to a different type of heat. "Say it again."
"Why?" She frowned at him with challenge. "Why don't you say something first?"
"All right." Sliding his hands up her back, over her shoulders, and into her wet hair, he kissed her. "You make me nuts, Priscilla." He turned his head and kissed her again, a little longer this time. "You make me hot as hell, too."
"I love you," Priss reminded him, hoping it might prompt him to a more telling declaration.
His next kiss lasted long enough to take the chill off the lake, and Priss got so wrapped up in the taste of him that she almost forgot what she wanted to hear.
Chris didn't. From the dock, he said, "If you're going to keep her waiting like this, someone needs to finish putting sunscreen on her."
Trace moved fast, grabbing for Chris's ankle, but Chris jumped back out of reach.
Priss, feeling very affected by that kiss, nuzzled Trace's neck and stroked his shoulders. He smelled delicious, felt even better. "Stop being a voyeur, Chris, and go away."
Having joined Chris o ~ Lori Foster

Blissfully unaware of all that, Elizabeth continued to love him without reservation or guile, and as she grew more certain of his love, she became more confident and more enchanting to Ian. On those occasions when she saw his expression become inexplicably grim, she teased him or kissed him, and, if those ploys failed, she presented him with little gifts-a flower arrangement from Havenhurst's gardens, a single rose that she stuck behind his ear, or left upon his pillow. "Shall I have to resort to buying you a jewel to make you smile, my lord?" she joked one day three months after they were married. "I understand that is how it is done when a lover begins to act distracted."
To Elizabeth's surprise, her remark made him snatch her into his arms in a suffocating embrace. "I am not losing interest in you, if that's what you're suggesting," he told her.
Elizabeth leaned back in his arms, surprised by the unwarranted force of his declaration, and continued to tease. "You're quite certain?"
"Positive."
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" she asked in a voice of mock severity.
"I would never lie to you," Ian said gravely, but then he realized that by withholding the truth from her, he was, in effect, deceiving her, which in turn, amounted to little less than lying outright.
Elizabeth knew something was bothering him, and that as time passed, it was bothering him with increasing frequency, but she never dreamed she was even remotely the cause of his sile ~ Judith McNaught

Her name in a stranger's mouth was a resurrection; however briefly, she was alive with him again again. Even that little shove could roll back the tomb. ~ Karen Russell

little treasure as I can," Chloe's nanny said, closing the front door behind her. Dottie's children and three grandbabies lived in Alabama, so she didn't see them as often as she'd like. It was inevitable and only a matter of time before ~ JoAnn Durgin

I have thought the difference might be that my Mary knows she will live forever, that she will step from the living into another life as easily as she slips from sleep to wakefulness. She knows this with her whole body, so completely that she does not think of it any more than she thinks to breathe. Thus she has time to sleep, time to rest, time to cease to exist for a little. ~ John Steinbeck

I thought you were her knight, but you have become only her woodsman
taking little girls into the forest to cut out their hearts. ~ Holly Black

No, I was crying because I was suddenly flooded with an understanding of how little I really knew: about her pains, her secrets, the fantasies that played in her head when she lay in bed at night. Her inner life. ~ Lena Dunham

When Odette ceased to be for him a creature always absent, longed for, imaginary, when the feeling he had for her was no longer the same mysterious disturbance caused in him by the phrase from the sonata, but affection, gratitude, when normal relations were established between them that would put an end to his madness and his gloom, then no doubt the actions of Odette's daily life would appear to him of little interest in themselves ... (p. 302, In Search of Lost Time Vol. 1 The Way by Swann's, Lydia Davis translation) ~ Marcel Proust

Thank you, Isabella." Legna reached to squeeze the little Enforcer's dirty hand affectionately. "And do not worry about your hair. Gideon can fix it. Right, Gideon?"
"If you desire it."
Legna paused and looked up into the Demon's steady silver eyes, wondering why he'd worded his response in such a way. Was it her imagination, or had he directed that to her and not to Bella? However, he seemed just as indifferent as always, and she shrugged it off. ~ Jacquelyn Frank

I'm crying for the little girl whose mother divorced her father, the girl who wanted to fall in love for the first time but wasn't ready for sex, the girl who dated a boy just because he wasn't the first one, the girl who fell hard for the guy with the easy smile and the green eyes, the girl who needed to prove she could hook up on a class trip, the girl who rand for student council just to impress a guy, the girl who lost her best friend, the girl whose father doesn't care anymore, the girl who doesn't have the money for college, the girl who just wants her grandma to fix everything, the girl who doesn't talk to anyone about anything, the girl who just can't fall in love again - even if a sweet guy folds a thousand paper cranes. Just for her. ~ Sydney Salter

Jill Clayburgh's life so closely paralleled mine, I feel as though a part of me lived a little through her and died a little with her. ~ Gail Sheehy

Can I cuddle up with you when you sleep?"

Sma stopped, detached the creature from her shoulder with one hand and stared it in the face. "What?"

"Just for chumminess' sake," the little thing said, yawning wide and blinking. "I'm not being rude; it's a good bonding procedure."

Sma was aware of Skaffen-Amtiskaw glowing red just behind her. She brought the yellow and brown device closer to her face. "Listen, Xenophobe - "

"Xeny."

"Xeny. You are a million-ton starship. A Torturer class Rapid Offensive Unit. Even - "

"But I'm demilitarized!"

"Even without your principle armament, I bet you could waste planets if you wanted to - "

"Aw, come on; any silly GCU can do that!"

"So what's all this shit for?" She shook the furry little remote drone, quite hard. Its teeth chattered.

"It's for a laugh!" it cried. "Sma, don't you appreciate a joke?"

"I don't know. Do you appreciate being drop-kicked back to the accommodation area?"

"Ooh! What's your problem, lady? Have you got something against small furry animals, or what?" Look Ms. Sma, I know very well I'm a ship, and I do everything I'm asked to do - including taking you to this frankly rather fuzzily specified destination - and do it very efficiently, too. If there was the slightest sniff of any real action, and I had to start acting like a warship, this construct in your hands would go lifeless ~ Iain M. Banks

Shit, it's even getting me a little hot. Beside Shayla, Lacey is trying to suck the plastic off her rent-a-dick. ~ S.L. Jennings

What would my little grasshopper like?"
...
She glared over her shoulder at him. "I'm not going to call you Mr Miyagi you know."
"Yes you will, but that's not important at the moment. ~ R.L. Mathewson

I took a step forward, rage swirling inside me.
"You broke into Mount Weather?" Hunter choked out a laugh. "Are you insane?"
"Shut up," I said, keeping my eyes on Luc.
Hunter made a deep noise. "Our little mutual white flag of friendship is going to come to a halt if you tell me to shut up again."
I spared him a brief glance. "Shut. Up."
Dark shadows drifted over the Arum's shoulder, and I faced him fully. "What?" I said, throwing my hands up in a universal come get some. "I have a lot of pent-up violence I'd love to take out on someone."
"Guys." Luc sighed, sliding off the bar. "Seriously? Can't you two bro-mance it out? ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

At the end of the lane Elizabeth put down her side of the trunk and sank down wearily beside Lucinda upon its hard top, emotionally exhausted. A wayward chuckle bubbled up inside her, brought on by exhaustion, fright, defeat, and the last remnants of triumph over having gotten just a little of her own back from the man who'd ruined her life. The only possible explanation for Ian Thornton's behavior today was that he was a complete madman.
With a shake of her head Elizabeth made herself stop thinking of him. At the moment she had so many new worries she hardly knew how to begin to cope. She glanced sideways at her stalwart duenna, and an amused smile touched her lips as she recalled Lucinda's actions at the cottage. On the one hand, Lucinda rejected all emotional displays as totally unseemly-yet at the same time she herself was possessed of the most formidable temper Elizabeth had ever witnessed. It was as if Lucinda did not regard her own outbursts of ire as emotional. Without the slightest hesitation or regret Lucinda could verbally flay a wrongdoer into small, bite-sized pieces and then mentally stamp him into the ground and grind him beneath the heel of her sturdy shoe.
On the other hand, were Elizabeth to exhibit the smallest bit of fear right now over their daunting predicament, Lucinda would instantly stiffen up with disapproval and deliver one of her sharp reprimands.
Cognizant of that, Elizabeth glanced worriedly at the sky, where black clouds were roll ~ Judith McNaught

For so long, talking about Samira, acknowledging her as someone who no longer lived in him, had felt dangerous as running his fingers along a sharp edge. It had been Miel eating a slick of honey off a knife. It was an heirloom blade his mother would not leave out, fearing Sam was still a child who might cut himself.
But now he was Samir, and Samira was the friend he almost thought he imagined. And she would be a little more imaginary once he and his mother finished changing his name. He wanted to neither forget she existed nor live inside her.
She was someone he could not be. ~ Anna-Marie McLemore

The years of disillusion, the long debate of who-belongs-to-who, gathered at the mighty feet of the Bangladesh Liberation War like flood waters rising, gathering thick weeds and crusty dirt and pulling it all in one direction. At times, when the body count was high and the air tasted like bloody ash, the way mass graves smell, Sariyah had wondered what progress was supposed to taste like. Often it tasted like unanswered questions, stuck in the teeth. Bangladesh had given her the true answer, though: progress at its best is home-grown. It should taste like joy – pure, unhindered joy. Like the freshest sun-ripened mango on a tree, a little sunrise in her palm. ~ Katherine Russell

Most kids don't believe in fairy tales very long. Once they hit six or seven they put away "Cinderella" and
her shoe fetish, "The Three Little Pigs" with their violation of building codes, "Miss Muffet" and her
well-shaped tuffet - all forgotten or discounted. And maybe that's the way it has to be. To survive in the
world, you have to give up the fantasies, the make-believe. The only trouble is that it's not all
make-believe. Some parts of the fairy tales are all too real, all too true. There might not be a Red Riding
Hood, but there is a Big Bad Wolf. No Snow White, but definitely an Evil Queen. No obnoxiously cute
blond tots, but a child-eating witch ... yeah. Oh yeah. ~ Rob Thurman

Oh, Lily," He says shaking his head. "I know about love. About wanting and dreaming and wishing with every part of your soul. I know enough to reconize the parts that are real and teh parts that are only in my fantasy." Ge turns his head slightly to face me,
and I find myself saying,"L-like what?"
"Like when she cries and my heart tears in to little shreds, and all I can think of is making her forget the source of her sadness." His face is blank, emotionless. his words -and the underlying emotion bombarding me through the bond- more than make up for it. "That's real."
my voice is barely a whisper when I ask, "And fantasy?"
"Believing she'll ever feel the same way. ~ Tera Lynn Childs

The years seemed to stretch before her like the land; spring, summer, autumn, winter, spring; always the same patient fields, the patient little trees, the patient lives; always the same yearning, the same pulling at the chain - until the instinct to live had torn itself and bled and weakened for the last time, until the chain secured a dead woman, who might cautiously be released. ~ Willa Cather

Soeur Marie Emelie"

Soeur Marie Emelie
is little and very old:
her eyes are onyx,
and her cheeks vermilion,
her apron wide and kind
and cobalt blue.

She comforts
generations and generations
of children,
who are
"new"
at the convent school.
When they are eight,
they are already up to her shoulder,
they grow up and go into the world,
she remains,
forever,
always incredibly old,
but incredibly never older...
She has an affinity with the hens,
When a hen dies,she sits down on a bench and cries,
she is the only grown-up, whose tears
are not frightening tears.
Children can weep without shame,
at her side...
Soeur Marie Emelie...
her apron as wide and kind
as skies on a summer day
and as clean and blue. ~ Caryll Houselander

That's what yer little sister said,' said Hagrid, nodding at Ron. Met her jus' yesterday.' Hagrid looked sideways at Harry, his beard twitching. 'Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house.' He winked at Harry. 'If yeh ask me, she wouldn' say no ter a signed-'
'Oh, shut up,' said Harry. Ron snorted with laughter and the ground was sprayed with slugs. ~ J.K. Rowling

Have I ever been in love? "Not like I'm going to be. I mean, I'm really open to it. Really hoping ... "
A spring breeze stirred the leaves in the wax myrtle hedge behind him, cooling the flush that had broken out on his skin.
"Hoping for what, exactly?" Jamie asked.
Trent raced to gather his thoughts during a long silence.
"For someone who captivates me with every little thing about her. Someone who makes me want to be better than I am - perfect for her. For a love that will spark hot and keep burning, the embers always ready to flare. ~ Tracy March

but I never said a thing about Patra and Paul, and I never told her what I really thought about Christian Science, which is that from what I know, from what little I know, it offers one of the best accounts of the origin of human evil. This ~ Emily Fridlund

Opening and closing the pages of a celestial dictionary at will and always falling upon the words hair fur and sex until a bunch of distant images arise at the same time as June when she kneels in front of me her tongue making little cross-strokes in my full-moon fur my enchanted-lake fur we should do it again so that I too can stroke through June's fur. ~ Nicole Brossard

When Mama leaned over to kiss me, I hugged her so tight she could hardly breathe. "I'll never forget you," I whispered.
Mama drew back. "What did you say?"
"Nothing," I mumbled. "I love you, Mama."
She smiled. "Well, for goodness sake, you little jackanapes, I love you too."
Smoothing the quilt over me, she turned to the others. "What Andrew needs is a good night's sleep. In the morning, he'll be himself again, just wait and see."
"I hope so," Andrew said.
Papa frowned. "No one will get any sleep, good or bad, with Buster making such a racket. I don't know what ails that animal."
While we'd been talking, Andrew had gone to the window and whistled for the dog. Though the Tylers hadn't heard the loud two-fingered blast, Buster definitely had. His howls made the hair on my neck prickle. Even Andrew looked frightened. He backed away from the window and sat quietly in the rocker.
"Edward told me a dog howls when somebody in the family is about to die," Theo said uneasily.
Papa shook his head. "That's superstitious nonsense, Theodore. Surely you know better than to believe someone as well known for mendacity as your cousin."
Muttering to himself, Papa left the room. Taking Theo with her, Mama followed, but Hannah lingered by the bed.
I reached out and grabbed her hand. "Don't leave yet," I begged. "Stay a while."
Hannah hesitated for a moment, her face solemn, her eyes worried. "Mama's right, Andrew," she said softly. "You ~ Mary Downing Hahn

She smiled just a little, as if to hide how powerful the words made her feel, but Chinasa saw it all the same: the way her face seemed to say that she had gotten the vengeance she sought. The kind of vengeance that turned love into a weapon. Tit for tat. You do me, I do you. ~ Chinelo Okparanta

Not long after, and while it was still twilight, the grandfather also went to bed, for he was up every morning at sunrise, and the sun came climbing up over the mountains at a very early hour during these summer months. The wind grew so tempestuous during the night, and blew in such gusts against the walls, that the hut trembled and the old beams groaned and creaked. It came howling and wailing down the chimney like voices of those in pain, and it raged with such fury among the old fir trees that here and there a branch was snapped and fell. In the middle of the night the old man got up. "The child will be frightened," he murmured half aloud. He mounted the ladder and went and stood by the child's bed.

Outside the moon was struggling with the dark, fast-driving clouds, which at one moment left it clear and shining, and the next swept over it, and all again was dark. Just now the moonlight was falling through the round window straight on to Heidi's bed. She lay under the heavy coverlid, her cheeks rosy with sleep, her head peacefully resting on her little round arm, and with a happy expression on her baby face as if dreaming of something pleasant. The old man stood looking down on the sleeping child until the moon again disappeared behind the clouds and he could see no more, then he went back to bed. ~ Johanna Spyri

They were enemies, they had both been very close to death and the other had done little or nothing to intervene, but actually to kill her would be very difficult.
Or maybe he only wanted to pretend that he would find it very difficult; maybe it would be no bother at all, and the sort of bogus camaraderie of doing the same job, though on different sides, was just that: a fake. ~ Iain M. Banks

Damn, you're good,' he said and rolled onto his back. The man wasn't much for flowery speech, Alesandra thought with a smile. It didn't matter. She was arrogantly proud of herself because she'd pleased him. Perhaps she should give him a little praise too. She rolled onto her side to face him, put her hand on his chest directly over his pounded heart, and whispered. 'You're good, too. 'Tis the truth, you're the best I've ever had.'
He opened his eyes to look at her. 'I'm the only one you've ever had, remember?' His voice was gruff with affection.
'I remember,' she said.
'No other man is ever going to touch you, Alesandra. You're mine. ~ Julie Garwood

us. The little shit really digs Celia here. Been seein' her ~ Kirk Alex

She has shared her hurt with me, and now a little bit of it is mine. This thing she couldn't bear alone, I can bear some of it, I can be hurt, too, and here's the thing you'd never expect about this kind of second-hand-hurt - it feels so good, it makes you feel whole, it makes you feel necessary, and even if you don't realize it right away, you'll find, as time passes, as the bearing of the hurt further intoxicates you, makes you more fully hers and she more fully yours, that you'll do anything to keep it; you'll say anything, you'll believe anything, you'll compromise anything, you'll build your self-worth around that tiny grain of hurt she lent you, and in return you'll hold her chin in your hand and run your thumb over the corner of her mouth and tickle the back of her earlobe with your finger and whisper to her over and over and over that "it's okay, it's okay, it's okay - ~ Jared Young

At that moment, Ronin stepped back into the living room, clothed, thank God. Well, mostly. Kneeling on the floor before him, Devin watched him fascinated as he fastened the buttons of his plaid flannel shirt, thankfully covering that fucking beautiful chest. He left the top two buttons at his neck open. Frozen, she stared as his hands slipped down to tuck the shirt into his jeans before he fastened the fly and buckled his belt. Her fingers itched as she imagined the warmth and hardness of his hips, the deep contour of muscle low on his stomach.

Ooooohhhhh! ~ Sibylla Matilde

I close my eyes and hear wind rushing through palm trees again. And then laughter. The scene is foggy at first, and then it comes into sharp focus. I am standing in a kitchen. It's one of those big, well-appointed spaces you see in magazines, but this one is well loved, not just staged. A cake bakes in the oven. Carrot. There are matches and a box of birthday candles at the ready by the stove. Stan Getz's smoky-sweet saxophone filters from a speaker somewhere nearby. I'm stirring a pot of marinara sauce; a bit has splattered onto the marble countertop, but I don't care. I take a sip of wine and sway to the music. A little girl giggles on the sofa. I don't see her face, just her blond ponytail. And then warm, strong arms around my waist as he presses his body against me. I breathe in the scent of rugged spice, fresh cotton, and love. ~ Sarah Jio

Your mother brought a strange man to this house once, Katarina. I had hoped it might be a few years before history repeated itself."
Kat rolled her eyes at the mention of her father. "Uncle Eddie, I brought Hale home ages ago," she reminded him; but her uncle just shook his head.
"I've known my great-niece's friend. A boyfriend, on the other hand ... that is a most different matter."
"Yes, sir," Hale said. He stood up a little straighter, spoke a little louder.
"You have a powerful family, boy."
"Yes, sir," Hale said. "Please don't hold them against me."
Then Eddie gave a wry smile. "Who says I was talking about them? ~ Ally Carter

The Cavern you are asking about, yes, I have seen that, with rows and rows of tubes stored neatly in the earth. I have also seen a cave full of papers, and golden apples on dark trees twisted from growing in a place with great wind and little rain, and my name carved in a tree, and paintings on stone. And in the Carving I have seen burned bodies under the sky and a man singing his daughter to her grave, marking her arms and his with blue. I have felt life in that place, and I have seen death. ~ Ally Condie

Eccolo!" he exclaimed.

At the same moment the ground gave way, and with a cry she fell out of the wood. Light and beauty enveloped her. She had fallen on to a little open terrace, which was covered with violets from end to end.

"Courage!" cried her companion, now standing some six feet above. "Courage and love."

She did not answer. From her feet the ground sloped sharply into view, and violets ran down in rivulets and streams and cataracts, irrigating the hillside with blue, eddying round the tree stems, collecting into pools in the hollows, covering the grass with spots of azure foam. But never again were they in such profusion; this terrace was the well-head, the primal source whence beauty gushed out to water the earth.

Standing at its brink, like a swimmer who prepares, was the good man. But he was not the good man that she had expected, and he was alone.

George had turned at the sound of her arrival. For a moment he contemplated her, as one who had fallen out of heaven. He saw radiant joy in her face, he saw the flowers beat against her dress in blue waves. The bushes above them closed. He stepped quickly forward and kissed her… ~ E.M. Forster