How To Touch Your Heart Quotes

I am deeply in love with you but you are so ethereal. I may not know how to touch your heart. ~ Debasish Mridha

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you'd hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themsel ~ Aaron Freeman

You grow sleepy,cara mia," Julian whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehea. "We should go to your brother's chamber. I will check him once more before we go to ground."
Desari refused to open her eyes. She made a soft purring sound, completely contented to lie in his arms. "Not yet, Julian," she protested softly. "I do not want to leave this place for a little while longer."
"I can feel how tired you are, my love. I can do no other than-"
"Do not say it!" Deasri thumped his chest. "Just lie there and hold me. That is what I want. Men are such difficult creatures,Julian. I am beginning to realize this."
He rubbed his chin on the top of her head, her hair catching in the shadow along his jaw. "Men are not difficult. They are logical and methodical."
She laughed softly. "You wish it wree so. I must tell you,although I am taking a huge cance that you might become impossible to live with, tha you are an extraordinary lover."
"Keep talking,lifemate. I am listening," he responded with a deep satisfaction. "Magnificent was only a starting place. Extraordinary lover is the perfect description. I see that now."
Her soft laughter washed over him, as gentle as a breeze. Touching him. Just like that. She could touch him with her breath. Julian wrapped his arms around her tightly and buried his face in her ebony hair. "Why is it you always smell so good?"
"Would you want me to smell like a cavewoman?"
"I do not know,cara. I do not know what a ~ Christine Feehan

Say I was going to make love to you right now." He movied to stand eye to eye with her.

"I would would gently take your shoulders and guide you backwards until your back was pressed into the wall behind you. I might run my hands as light as possible up and down these gorgeous arms and the entire time I'd have my mouth against yours in a soft, sensual kiss."

"I'd wrap your long, sexy legs around my waist and slowly, gently, slide my cock into you."

"But if I was going to fuck you." He gripped her thighs tightly and pushed his hips into her. "Maybe my hands would be rougher and there'd be nothing slow and gentle about my cock, but there'd be no shortage of passion. Every thrust, every touch would convey how fucking sexy I find you."

~Slade ~ C.D. Hussey

[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

People always ask me
"Son what does it take
To reach out and touch your dreams?"
To them I always say
Are you hungry?
Are you thirsty?
Is it a fire that burns you up inside?
How bad do you want it?
How bad do you need it?
Are you eating, sleeping, dreaming
With that one thing on your mind?
How bad do you want it?
How bad do you need it?
Cause if you want it all
You've got to lay it all out on the line ~ Tim McGraw

Chris Nielsen: Thank you for every kindness. Thank you for our children. For the first time I saw them. Thank you for being someone I was always proud to be with. For your guts, for your sweetness. For how you always looked, for how I always wanted to touch you. God, you were my life. I apologize for everytime I ever failed you. Especially this one ... ~ Richard Matheson

No matter how naturally gifted you are, it's your passion that's going to make you better and maybe touch some people. ~ Danger Mouse

But she couldn't dismiss easily his light touch with her. No pushing or pressing, none of that herding and corralling bullshit, unlike any of her old boyfriends. And maybe who you fell for and who you eventually loved wasn't rational, no matter how hard you tried to list pros and cons and sum the results. You couldn't think your way through it, not all the way. Maybe just the scent of somebody carried more weight than everything else put together. ~ Charles Frazier

The blond boy in the red trunks is holding your head underwater because he is trying to kill you, and you deserve it, you do, and you know this, and you are ready to die in this swimming pool because you wanted to touch his hands and lips and this means your life is over anyway. You're in eighth grade. You know these things. You know how to ride a dirt bike, and you know how to do long division, and you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn't do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn't matter anymore. ~ Richard Siken

Unfortunately, the main problem of the world isn't on money, as it might seem at first sight, but on the mind of those that either use it, create it, maintain it, capitalize on it, or simply, ignore it. What use would science have if people didn't have problems needing a solution? What use would art have if people didn't have a need to escape their reality? What use would reading have if there was no desire to aspire to? What use would dreams have if life was perfect? And so, I'm not saying that money is necessary. but that our mind is what makes it valuable. And once you understand this, you actually master it. The solution lays on the fundamental laws of duality. The more you disregard money, the more it becomes a fundamental part of your world. Those that love it, however, don't even need to touch it or worry about it. And how convenient that we tend to ask questions about the things we refuse to learn about. ~ Robin Sacredfire

It makes sense that your response to a bad break-up line would be to set someone on fire," I responded. "Fire is magical to us because it embodies the passage of time. We can never grasp time because it is invisible, unreachable and continually slipping from our grasp. Do we live in the present? How can we? The present is infinitesimally small. It can't contain human action. We teeter on the brink between our assumed future...where we will be in moments to come...and our memory of the past...where we think we just were. The present doesn't exist in a comprehensible way. Similarly, fire is something we can neither grasp nor touch, yet it has a clear effect...the decay and collapse of life, the acceleration of entropy. Thus when we stand mesmerized by fire, we are actually mesmerized by our own mortality. ~ David David Katzman

Love Song
How can I keep my soul in me, so that
it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise
it high enough, past you, to other things?
I would like to shelter it, among remote
lost objects, in some dark and silent place
that doesn't resonate when your depths resound.
Yet everything that touches us, me and you,
takes us together like a violin's bow,
which draws one voice out of two separate strings.
Upon what instrument are we two spanned?
And what musician holds us in his hand?
Oh sweetest song. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

What are you smiling about?" Rider asked. Willow glanced at him and flushed. "That must have been some daydream you were having."
If you only knew, Willow thought.
"Come on, Freckles, it's time you get back to the ranch. I have work to do."
His big work-roughened hand swallowed hers as he helped her to her feet. Against her will, her body responded to its warmth. She snatched her hand away, garnering a searching expression in his dark brown eyes.
She quickly excused her reaction with a flirty smile. "I promised not to touch you, remember?"
"Yes,but I dont't recall promising not to touch you." He wiggled his brows in a comical imitation of an evil villain in a bad play.
She laughed and shook her head. "Help me mount Sugar before I decide to wipe that grin off your face."
"And how do you propose to do that?" he asked, retrieving the horses and returning to he side. He bent down, cupped his hands, and boosted her into the mare's saddle. "You weren't planning on slapping my face again, I hope," he said, reaching for Sultan's reins.
"Oh,no, nothing like that." She batted her lashes coquettishly, the affect intensified by the naughty twinkle in her eyes.
"You better stop looking at me like that, or I'll have to follow Sultan's example and break down your door tonight."
"I don't think Juan would be too happy about making me two new doors. It wasn't easy explaining what happened to the first one! ~ Charlotte McPherren

That night, while you were asleep, I unbuttoned your pajama jacket and looked at what he'd done to you. Afterward, I drove back to his house and very nearly killed him. If he hadn't started crying and begging me to stop, I…" He let out the angry breath. "That was when I realized how I felt about you," he added, his eyes meeting hers. "A man wants to protect what he considers his own. It started then, that night."
She was surprised by what he was telling her. "You…looked at me?"
He nodded. His eyes narrowed. "You had the most beautiful little breasts," he said roughly. "And they were covered with bruises. I wanted to kiss the bruises, take you into my bed and hold you, just hold you, all night long so that you'd be safe. I didn't dare give in to the impulse, of course," he added with the first touch of amusement he'd shown since her arrival. "My mother would have horsewhipped me."
She felt waves of surprised pleasure lance through her body. "I never knew."
"I was always known for my poker face," he murmured. "But it was sheer agony to be around you. The older you got, the worse it was. It was inevitable that one day I'd go mad and take you." He sighed. "The most hellish part of the whole thing was knowing that all I had to do was touch you and you'd let me do anything I liked to you."
She traced the mouth of her coffee cup. "I loved you," she said quietly.
"I know."
There was a world of pain in the words. She looked up into his black eyes and ~ Diana Palmer

It is not enough for us to say: "I love God," but I also have to love my neighbor. St. John says that you are a liar if you say you love God and you don't love your neighbor. How can you love God whom you do not see, if you do not love your neighbor whom you see, whom you touch, with whom you live? ~ Mother Teresa

I don't know when love became elusive
what i know, is that no one i know has it
my fathers arms around my mothers neck
fruit too ripe to eat, a door half way open
when your name is a just a hand i can never hold
everything i have ever believed in, becomes magic.
i think of lovers as trees, growing to and
from one another searching for the same light,
my mothers laughter in a dark room,
a photograph greying under my touch,
this is all i know how to do, carry loss around until
i begin to resemble every bad memory,
every terrible fear,
every nightmare anyone has ever had.
i ask did you ever love me?
you say of course, of course so quickly
that you sound like someone else
i ask are you made of steel? are you made of iron?
you cry on the phone, my stomach hurts
i let you leave, i need someone who knows how to stay. ~ Warsan Shire

But in a country where you hang your dead up on walls and pride whether or not a man bears a javelin more than his character, how am I to persuade you out of a war? It would be suicide for Kildenree to war on Bayern and butchery for Bayern to attack Kildenree. If you don't believe me, then send me back. Or if you don't trust me to leave, I'll return to my little room on the west wall and tend your geese, and you can be sure that on my watch no thieves will touch my flock. ~ Shannon Hale

She pressed her hands against my chest and tried to push me away. "I can't think straight when you 're this close."
I backed her up against the wall. "I don't like the thoughts running through your head. I plan on staying here until you look me in the eye and tell me you 're mine."
"This isn't going to work. It never would have."
"Bullshit. We belong together." Echo sniffed and the sound tore at me. I softened my voice. "Look at me, baby. I know you love me. Three nights ago you were willing to offer everything to me. There is no way you can walk away from us."
"God Noah..." Her voice broke. "I'm a mess."
A mess? "You 're beautiful."
"I'm a mental mess. In two months you 're going to face some judge and convince him that you are the best person to raise your brothers. I'm a liability."
"Not true. My brothers will love you and you 'll love them. You are not a liability."
"But how will the judge see me? Are you really willing too take that risk? [...] What happens if the judge find out about me? What if he discovers what a mess you 're dating?"
Breathing became a painful chore. Her lips turned down while her warm fingers caressed my cheek. That touch typically brought me to knees, but now it cut me open.
"Did you know that when you stop being stubborn and accept i may be right on something, your eyes widen a little and you tilt your head to the side?" she asked.
I forced my head straight and narrowed my eyes. "I ~ Katie McGarry

The World

"You know the saddest thing," she said. "The saddest thing is that we're you."
I said nothing.
"In your fantasies," she said, "my people are just like you. Only better. We don't die or age or suffer from pain or cold or thirst. We're snappier dressers. We possess the wisdom of the ages. And if we crave blood, well, it is no more than the way you people crave food or affection or sunlight - and besides, it gets us out of the house. Crypt. Coffin. Whatever."
"And the truth is?" I ask her.
"We're you," she said. "We're you with all your fuckups and all the things that make you human - all your fears and lonelinesses and confusions... none of that gets better.
"But we're colder than you are. Deader. I miss daylight and food and knowing how it feels to touch someone and care. I remember life, and meeting people as people and not just as things to feed on or control, and I remember what it was to feel something, anything, happy or sad or anything..." And then she stopped.
"Are you crying?" I asked.
"We don't cry," she told me. Like I said, the woman was a liar."

Fifteen Painted Cards From A Vampire Tarot ~ Neil Gaiman

Speaking of cold...
I shiver. "Has the temperature dropped, or is it just me?"
"Here." Etienne unwraps the black scarf that had been tied loosely around his neck,and hands it to me. I take it, gently, and wrap it around mine. It makes me dizzy.It smells like freshly scrubbed boy. It smells like him.
"Your hair looks nice," he says. "You bleached it again.
I touch the stripe self-consciously. "Mom helped me."
"That breeze is wicked,I'm going for coffee." Josh snaps his sketchbook closed. I'd forgotten he was here again. "You coming?"
Etienne looks at me, waiting to see how I answer.
Coffee! I'm dying for a real cup. I smile at Josh. "Sounds perfect."
And then I'm heading down the steps of the Pantheon, cool and white and glittering, in the most beautiful city in the world. I'm with two attractive, intelligent,funny boys and I'm grinning ear to ear. If Bridgette could see me now.
I mean,who needs Christopher when Etienne St. Clair is in the world?
But as soon as I think of Toph, I get that same stomach churching I always do when I think about him now.Shame that I ever thought he might wait. That I wasted so much time on him. Ahead of mine,Etienne laughs at something Josh said. And the sound sends me spiraling into panic as the information hits me again and again and again.
What am I going to do? I'm in love with my new best friend. ~ Stephanie Perkins

I wanted to ask you about your vision of perfection in an imperfect world, or what side of the earth calls out to you when you touch a physical globe, or maybe about your greatest heartache and how you still go on as your world continues turning, or what you do with a memory once lodged inside your bones that;s still breathing, and burning. But you're still a stranger, and I'm overly polite, so I'll ask all about your day when I'd rather know about your life. ~ Victoria Erickson

Who can estimate the real wealth that inheres in a fine character ... How base and mean money and huge estates look in comparison. All other things fade before it. Its touch is like magic to win friendship, influence, power. Can you afford to chill, to discourage, to crush out of your life this sweet, sensitive plant, which would flower in your nature and give added glory to your life, for the sake of a few dollars, a little questionable fame? ~ Orison Swett Marden

Perhaps I won't tire of her," Gray protested, just to be contrary. Because, apparently, that was how brothers behaved.
"Perhaps a dolphin will fly out of your arse. And here's an argument even you can't refuse. Grayson Shipping doesn't need a reputation for delivering damaged goods. You want me to hand George Waltham an impregnated governess?"
"I wouldn't get her with child. Give me that much credit, at least."
"I give you credit for nothing. Let's try this one last time, shall we? You made me this ship's captain. If I'm the captain, what I say goes. And I say you don't touch her. If you can't abide by my orders, take command of the ship yourself and let me go home."
"Go home and do what? Squander your fortune and talent on dirt farming?"
"Go home and take care of my own family. Go home and do what I damn well please, for once."
Cursing, Gray leaned against the wall. He knew Joss would make good on that threat, too. It hadn't been easy, coaxing his brother out of mourning. Gray had resorted to outright bullying just to convince him to take command of the Aphrodite, threatening to cut off his income unless he reported to London as agreed. But he needed Joss, if this shipping concern was to stay afloat. He'd worked too hard, sacrificed too much to see it fail.
And if Joss didn't become a willing partner, it all would have been in vain.
"Stay away from the girl, Gray."
Gray sighed. "We're on the same ship. I can't help but be near her ~ Tessa Dare

I'm quite certain that Theo plans to wear her cape for at least part of the evening." There was a note of amusement in his voice.
"If you're quite sure that you won't grow overwarm," Claribel said uncertainly, eyeing the cape. It sprang out from Lady Islay's shoulders and then swirled to the ground, managing to look surprisingly light. The inside was lined with a gorgeous rosy silk, and the outside...
"What on earth is that made of?" Claribel couldn't help asking as she reached out to touch it.
"I can guess," Cecil put in, the thread of amusement in his voice even stronger.
"Oh, can you?" Theo remarked. "Then tell me this: am I being altogether too obvious?"
Claribel hadn't the faintest idea what she meant. But Cecil, clever Cecil, obviously did, because he bellowed with laughter.
"Swansdown," he said. "Gorgeous swansdown, and every man and woman in this room has taken note of your swanlike triumph."
"I could not resist," Theo said, with that smile that was all the more attractive for being so rarely seen. "How lucky you are in your husband," she said to Claribel. "It's a rare man who knows his fairy tales. ~ Eloisa James

I didn't realize how much I could miss a simple touch until I didn't have it anymore. It's so easy to let her back in. To let her wiggle her way back into my arms and smile up at me like she is the sun and I am every star in her sky.
When you spend your life in the dark, looking up and wishing for something better – something brighter – you don't realize just how lonely you are. Not until the sun shines, shedding light on all the empty spaces and filling them with beautiful warmth. But when the sun abandons you, everything seems darks and colder than before.
Emptier.
Lonelier. ~ S.L. Jennings

God, you're so sweet." He holds my face in his hands and kisses me deeply. I slowly unzip his hoodie and touch a hand to his bare chest. I relish in the feel of it. Barely an hour ago I was admiring it from afar, and now it's no longer just a tease. When I slide my hand down to his stomach, he groans and his hands slip just under my shirt. "So that's why you didn't want to change." I can feel his smile against my lips. "You just wanted me to take your clothes off for you."

"Guilty." I lift my arms for him to pull it off. Instead of returning to kissing me, his eyes roam down my body. I fight the urge to cover myself; even though my bra is still on, I feel exposed. His hands lightly touch each side along the seam. My breath catches in my throat.

Meeting my eyes, he says, "You're so damn beautiful." He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss in between my breasts. I shiver at the light touch of his lips to my sensitive skin. If this is how he makes me feel with such little contact, then how will the rest of this feel? The need is building inside like a spark starting a fire. ~ Lilly Avalon

Ryzek will be in a huge crowd of people, many of whom are his most ardent supporters and fiercest soldiers. What kind of 'move' do you suggest we make?"
Cyra replied, "You said it yourself, didn't you? Kill him."
"Oh, right!" Teka smacked the table, obviously annoyed. "Why didn't I think of killing him? How simple!"
Cyra rolled her eyes. "This time you won't have to sneak into his house while he's asleep. This time, I'll challenge him to the arena."
Everybody got quiet again. For different reasons, Akos was sure. Cyra was a good fighter, everybody knew that, but no one knew how good Ryzek was--they hadn't seen him in action. And then there was the matter of getting to a place where Cyra could actually challenge him. And getting him to do it instead of just arresting her.
"Cyra," Akos said.
"He declared nemhalzak--he erased your status, your citizenship," Teka said, talking over him. "He has no reason to honor your challenge."
"Of course he does." Isae was frowning. "He could have gotten rid of her quietly when he learned she was a renegade, but he didn't. He wanted her disgrace, and her death, to be public. That means he's afraid of her, afraid she has power over Shotet. If she challenges hi in front of everyone, he won't be able to back down. He'll look like a coward."
"Cyra," Akos said again, quiet this time.
"Akos," Cyra answered, with just a touch of the gentleness he had seen in the stairwell. "He is no match for me."
The ~ Veronica Roth

Quite a few soldiers . . . had ended up spending some time wrapped around each other, alone in the night. Most often, it was just for the touch of another person and not in the pursuit of an entangling relationship. In fact, when it happened there was usually an unspoken covenant which existed between soldiers to just forget whatever had happened and move on, as many preferred not to talk about how you secretly needed to curl up in basically the fetal position, tucked away with another psychologically damaged human, deep in the bowels of your tin-can refuge from the deep black, just to get through another week of it all. ~ Robert Lee Wolfe

Lord, you will have to be our teacher, because the dignity has been drained out of us in so many ways. We have been treated like dirt, and that has stuck on us. We've put ourselves against standards of our own making, because we thought it would give us worth. Please touch each person with how unique they are in your eyes and how their dignity in your eyes is so great that you will not even override them; you will woo them and pursue them and help them to accept that you are seeking them and you will allow yourself to be found by them if they simply cry out for help. I pray that great freedom will come across them because of their awareness of where they stand in your kingdom. That will make Jesus very happy, and the angels in heaven will jump up and down. And so we say, Let it be so, and that's what we mean by amen. Amen. Dallas Willard ~ Dallas Willard

Why read? Because books are precious guides to our humanity - civilization's backbone - that tenuous ridgeline that allows us to climb above the jungle and see what the horizon has to offer. Thus they represent the yearning to go beyond, to explore. Yet they are also human-sized. And made of paper and ink, and thus they come from the earth. Their physicality is what makes them immensely human. And they contain the flesh-and-bone thoughts of one person capturing one blink of time, now made immortal in the bound pages carried by your own hands and touched by your own eyes. How can such fragile and thin paper and spidery veins of ink be our most precious treasure, binding together the entire hope and legacy and language of a civilization - of our existence. We touch the book and turn the page, and thus we are bound to our destiny. ~ Carew Papritz

If you take responsibility for what you are doing to yourself, how you produce your symptoms, how you produce your illness, how you produce your existence-the very moment you get in touch with yourself-growth begins, integration begins. ~ Frederick Salomon Perls

I'm not capable of turning you down," he said on a pained laugh, gaze devouring her breasts. "I'm going to take you to my bed and pleasure the fuck out of you. But the panties stay on. It's nonnegotiable."
Her entire system rebelled against his words. How could he touch her, kiss her like this, and refuse to take it all the way? It didn't make sense. Men didn't have that kind of willpower, did they? She certainly didn't have that kind of willpower. "W-what? Is it too late to give a different answer about why I changed my mind?"
"Yes. But don't worry, baby." Before she could
register his intention, he'd swung her up into his arms.
"Even with your panties on, it'll still be the best sex of your life. ~ Tessa Bailey

As I grew older, I realized that no matter how hard you keep your shoes clean – especially the mid-soles – they will always get dirty since they mostly touch the ground... and dirt. Conclusion? All shoes are destined to be dirty when worn on a regular basis. It's just like life. No matter how comfortable you want it to be, trials and obstacles will always come your way. And you have to face it. ~ Paul Nat

If you've never shot a gun,
You can't understand
how it feels in your hands.
Cool to the touch, all its venom
coiled inside, deadly,
like a steel-scaled serpent. Awaiting your bidding.
You select it's prey… paper,
tin, or flesh. You lie in wait,
learn that patience is the killer's
most trustworthy accomplice.
You choose the moment. What. Where. When. Decided.
But the how is everything.
You lift your weapon,
ease it into place, cock it,
to load it, knowing the
satisfying snitch means a bullet is yours to command.
Now, make or break,
it's all up to you. You
aim knowing a hair either
way means bull's-eye or miss.
Success or failure. Life or death.
You have to relax,
convince your muscles
not to be tense, not to betray
you. Sight again. Adjust.
Don't become distracted by the heat of the hunt.
Instincts take over.
You shoot and adrenaline
screams as your target shreds
or the flesh drops. And for
one indescribable moment you are God. ~ Ellen Hopkins

You cannot explain, with the limitations of language and inexperience, why your body can cause such a sudden, fumbling response in someone else, nor can you put into exact words what you feel about your body, explain the thrum it feels in proximity to another warm-skinned form. What you feel is a tangle of contradictions: power, pleasure, fear, shame, exultation, some strange wish to make noise. You cannot say how those things knit themselves together somewhere in the lower abdomen and pulse. ~ Marya Hornbacher

Has it taught you to look at things different?' he asked.
i thought, How does he know about all that? But i didn't have to ask him, because he just nodded toward his house.
'I bounce around them four walls a lot, Victor. I write some letters, I keep in touch with people. Putting your thoughts on paper, it makes you stop and notice stuff. Kind of slows you down. ~ Peter Gould

He came up behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders; bending low, he put his lips close to the nape of her neck. "How about a kiss for your jailbird brother?" he said.
She turned halfway, as if to touch her lips to his cheek but he slid a palm down her back and tipped her face up to his and kissed her full on the mouth - not a brotherly kiss, there was no mistaking it for that, but a long, slow, greedy kiss, messy and voluptuous. His bathrobe fell slightly open as his left hand sank from her chin to neck, collarbone, base of throat, his fingertips just inside the edge of her thin polka-dot shirt and trembling over the warm skin there. ~ Donna Tartt