Impingement Shoulder Quotes

You see!" said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"
"It's different," said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely-"
"But I don't care either, I don't care!" said Tonks, seizing the front of Lupin's robes and shaking them. "I've told you a million times...."
And the meaning of Tonk's Patronus and her mouse-colored hair, and the reason she had come running to find Dumbledore when she had heard a rumor someone had been attacked by Greyback, all suddenly became clear to Harry; it had not been Sirius that Tonks had fallen in love with after all.
"And I've told you a million times," said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes, staring at the floor, "that I am too old for you, too poor....too dangerous...."
"I've said all along you're taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus," said Mrs. Weasley over Fleur's shoulder as she patted her on the back.
"I am not being ridiculous," said Lupin steadily. "Tonks deserves somebody young and whole."
"But she wants you," said Mr. Weasley, with a small smile. "And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so."
He gestured sadly at his son, lying between them.
"This is....not the moment to discuss it," said Lupin, avoiding everybody's eyes as he looked around distractedly. "Dumbledore is dead...."
"Dumbledore wo ~ J.K. Rowling

Alex gazed at her. Her mouth was slightly open; she ran her fingernail against her lower teeth as she thought. She'd knotted her hair at the nape of her neck again, and a strand had slipped loose onto her shoulder, gleaming in the lantern light. Suddenly all of his objections seemed meaningless. Don't, he thought. You'll regret it.
He didn't care anymore.
Slowly, unable to stop himself, he reached out and cupped his hand around her foot. ~ L.A. Weatherly

You're not alone, unless you choose to be." As she left my room, she said over her shoulder, "It's time to stop running. ~ H.M. Ward

But what was there to say?
Only that there were tears. Only that Quietness and Emptiness fitted together like stacked spoons. Only that there was a snuffling in the hollows at the base of a lovely throat. Only that a hard honey-colored shoulder had a semicircle of teethmarks on it. Only that they held each other close, long after it was over. Only that what they shared that night was not happiness, but hideous grief.
Only that once again they broke the Love Laws. That lay down who should be loved. And how. And how much. ~ Arundhati Roy

No more goddamn fingers. Fuck me already," Syn hissed over his shoulder. Furi slapped Syn's ass a few times with his hard cock. "Damn, you are a bossy bottom, aren't you? Look at you. Aching for my cock," Furi moaned, rubbing his sheathed cock up and down Syn's crease. He grabbed the lube and drizzled it messily over Syn's hole. "Damn, ~ A.E. Via

When they reached the peak, he faced her, gathered her to him, and gazed into her amazing blue eyes. "You look beautiful," he said huskily, surprising himself with his tone. He swept his fingers along the top of her shoulder and cupped his hand on her neck, caressing her velvety earlobe with the pad of his thumb. "You put this awesome sunset to shame. ~ Tracy March

I stand there for a while, then sit cross-legged before it and bow my head. "Hi, Metias," I say in a soft voice. "Today's my birthday. Do you know how old I am now?"
I close me eyes, and through the silence surrounding me I think I can sense a ghostly hand on my shoulder, my brother's gentle presence that I'm able to feel every now and then, in these quiet moments. I imagine him smiling down at me, his expression relaxed and free.
"I'm twenty-seven today," I continue in a whisper. My voice catches for a moment. "We're the same age now."
For the first tine in my life, I am no longer his little sister. Next year I will step across the line and he will still be in the same place. From now on, I will be older than he ever was.
I try to move on to other thoughts, so I tell my brother's ghost about my year, my struggles and successes in commanding my own patrols, my hectic workweeks. I tell him, as I always do, that I miss him. And as always, I can hear the whisper of his ghost against my ear, his gentle reply that he misses me too. That he's looking out for me, from wherever he is. ~ Marie Lu

Towards midnight the rain ceased and the clouds drifted away, so that the sky was scattered once more with the incredible lamps of stars. Then the breeze died too and there was no noise save the drip and tickle of water that ran out of clefts and spilled down, leaf by leaf, to the brown earth of the island. The air was cool, moist, and clear; and presently even the sound of the water was still. The beast lay huddled on the pale beach and the stains spread, inch by inch.

The edge of the lagoon became a streak of phosphorescence which advanced minutely, as the great wave of the tide flowed. The clear water mirrored the clear sky and the angular bright constellations. The line of phosphorescence bulged about the sand grains and little pebbles; it held them each in a dimple of tension, then suddenly accepted them with an inaudible syllable and moved on.

Along the shoreward edge of the shallows the advancing clearness was full of strange, moonbeam-bodied creatures with fiery eyes. Here and there a larger pebble clung to its own air and was covered with a coat of pearls. The tide swelled in over the rain-pitted sand and smoothed everything with a layer of silver. Now it touched the first of the stains that seeped from the broken body and the creatures made a moving patch of light as they gathered at the edge. The water rose further and dressed Simon's coarse hair with brightness. The line of his cheek silvered and the turn of his shoulder became sculptured mar ~ William Golding

Two gallons is a great deal of wine, even for two paisanos. Spiritually the jugs maybe graduated thus: Just below the shoulder of the first bottle, serious and concentrated conversation. Two inches farther down, sweetly sad memory. Three inches more, thoughts of old and satisfactory loves. An inch, thoughts of bitter loves. Bottom of the first jug, general and undirected sadness. Shoulder of the second jug, black, unholy despondency. Two fingers down, a song of death or longing. A thumb, every other song each one knows. The graduations stop here, for the trail splits and there is no certainty. From this point anything can happen. ~ John Steinbeck

He came back to her lips and tasted them briefly before settling his forehead against hers. "I don't care what Grayson or his legal document says," he muttered between catches of wind. "God's given you to me, and as soon as He allows, I'll claim you as my own."
He spoke with such confidence that if she allowed herself, she could almost believe him. But with belief came hope, and with hope, the inevitability of pain.
The knocking at the door resumed, more urgently this time.
Along her throat, splotches of cool marked where he'd sampled her. Milly lamented that it was already warming. In heartbeats, all she would have was memories. And anguish. Could God truly fill the hollow Phillip would leave? Last night, His promise had filled her to the depths of her soul. It was enough. It would have to be.
With his eyes locked on hers, Phillip's hand trailed her cheek and throat. It brushed over her shoulder and down her arm. Then, in one blink, he wiped every emotion from his face, stunning her with the callous glaze of his eyes.
He gripped her by the elbow, whisked her through the kitchen, and opened the door to her wretched future. ~ April W. Gardner

All right," said Kaz. "Let's talk in the solarium. I'd prefer not to sweat through my suit." When the rest of them made to follow, Kaz halted and glanced over his shoulder. "Just me and the privateer."
Zoya tossed her glorious black mane and said, "We are the Triumvirate. We do not take orders from Kerch street rats with dubious haircuts."
"I can phrase it as a question if it will make your feathers lie flat," Kaz said.
"You insolent - "
"Zoya," said Sturmhond smoothly. "Let's not antagonize our new friends before they've even had a chance to cheat us. Lead on, Mister Brekker. ~ Leigh Bardugo

Her voice was as soft and sexy as ever. Those wide-set
blue eyes every bit as distrustful as they'd been during his last
encounter with her, which meant that chip on her shoulder, the
one he'd tried so desperately to dislodge, remained firmly in place. ~ Jackie Braun

You know that person on your left shoulder who tells you that you can't do it or that you're not good enough? Tell that person to GET LOST! ~ Dawn M. Plass

As human beings, we are endowed with freedom of choice, and we cannot shuffle off our responsibility upon the shoulders of God or nature. We must shoulder it ourselves. It is our responsibility. ~ Arnold J. Toynbee

What if this doesn't work?" I ask.
I don't feel any different. Not yet, at least.
I watch the IV bag, the steady drip, drip, drip of the medicine working its way into my body. I look back at Julie, the both of us silent for a moment.
"But what if it does?" she asks, touching my shoulder. ~ Rachael Lippincott

She threw her arms around my neck and pressed her head into my shoulder.
Everything within me stilled. I wrapped my arms around her warmth and softness, closing my eyes to savor the peace Echo's presence brought to me. Life would almost be enjoyable if i could feel this way all the time. I nuzzled the top of her hair with my chin, sending Isaiah a glance of gratidute.
Using my arms as chains, i kept Echo locked against me when she pulled her head off my shoulder. ~ Katie McGarry

The minute Molly and Priss disappeared inside, Trace cursed. He actually wanted to hit something, but a tree would break his knuckles, he didn't want to put another dent in the truck, and Dare would hit back.
Chris Chapey, Dare's longtime best friend and personal assistant, approached with the enormous cat draped over one shoulder so that he could keep an eye on the trailing dogs. The bottom half of Liger filled his arms, and the long tail hung down to the hem of Chris's shorts.
Without even thinking about it, Trace started petting the cat. After a few hours in the truck together, he and Liger had an understanding of sorts.
Dare watched him, but said only, "That cat is a beast."
"He's an armful, that's for sure." Chris hefted him a little higher, and got a sweet meow in return.
Both dogs barked in excitement, but quited when Liger gave them a level stare.
Chris laughed at that. "You want me to head in to keep an eye on things"
"That's why I pay you the big bucks, right?" Dare stared toward the house. "You can tell Trace's lady - "
"She's not mine."
Both Chris and Dare gave him a certain male-inspired look, a look that said they understood his bullshit and would let it slide - for now. ~ Lori Foster

Let's see if I remember all of this - born in Charlottesville, Virginia, but raised in Salem by her mother, Susan, a teacher, and her father, Jacob, a police officer. Attended Salem Elementary School until your tenth birthday, when your father called into his station to report an unknown child in his house - "
"Stop," I muttered. Liam looked over his shoulder, trying to divide his attention between me and the boy reciting the sordid tale of my life. " - but, bad luck, the PSFs beat the police to your house. Good luck, someone dropped the ball or they had other kiddies to pick up, because they didn't wait around long enough to question your parents, and thus, didn't pre-sort you. And then you came to Thurmond, and you managed to avoid their detecting you were Orange - " "Stop!" I didn't want to hear this - I didn't want anyone to hear it. ~ Alexandra Bracken

I have never been loved . . ." His words poured over me, warming every part, as I lazily kissed up the inky paws on his forearm and wrapped it around my shoulder. I heard his voice catch. ". . . like I have been loved by you," he continued, his voice scratchy yet gentle, like a cat's tongue, deliberate and patient, slicking over the same spot. "And I have never loved like I love you. ~ Jessica Topper

The width of neck and shoulder suggested a rugby player, the broken nose confirmed it. Which shows just how wrong you can be as he never played the game in his life. ~ Spike Milligan

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

You can't blame anyone else ... You have to make your own choices and live every agonizing day with the consequences of those choices. He knew this. That's why he deserted us like we deserted those civilians. He saw the road ahead, a steep, treacherous mountain road. We'd all have to hike that road, each of us dragging the boulder of what we'd done behind us. He couldn't do it. He couldn't shoulder the weight. - Philip Adler ~ Max Brooks

Everyone wants to be immortal. Few are. Margaret Thatcher is. Why? Because her values are timeless, eternal. Tap anyone on the shoulder anywhere in the world, and ask what Mrs Thatcher believed in, and they will tell you. They can give a clear answer to what she 'stood for.' ~ Maurice Saatchi

Alex felt the bullets pass over his shoulder and heard a scream as one of the other guards was hit. Well, that made one less anyway! ~ Anthony Horowitz

We circle each other, our gazes remaining locked, the white dress fanning out and wrapping around our legs. Neither of us make any attempt to remove it as my free hand drops to her waist, hers on my shoulder. We spin and sway down the aisle in imperfect sync to the beat of the progressing song and eventually I feel my body relax, allowing a small smile to form. ~ Tegan Anderson

I lean against my sister's shoulder. "I thought lightning wasn't supposed to strike in the same place twice."

"Sure it does," Izzy tells me. "But only if you're too dumb to move. ~ Jodi Picoult

And the more I knew my feebleness, my flaws, and my shortcomings, the more I knew His gentleness toward me, His tender glance, His strong and loving shoulder that was always available to lean on. ~ Katie Davis Majors

Grandmothers are everything in life:
1. If you need a friend, grandma is willing to be your best friend ever.
2. If you need a shoulder to cry on, grandma is there to listen.
3. If you need an encouragement, grandma is there to give you one.
4. If you need an advice, grandma is there to give you the best advice.
5. If you need a prayer partner, grandma is there to pray with you.
6. If you need someone to understand your situation, grandma is there to show support.
The list goes on!!!! ~ Euginia Herlihy

With a deliberate shrug, he stepped free of the hold on his shoulder. "Tell me something, boys," he drawled. "Do you wear that leather to turn each other on? I mean, is it a dick thing with you all?" Butch got slammed so hard against the door that his back teeth rattled.
The model shoved his perfect face into Butch's. "I'd watch your mouth, if I were you."
"Why bother, when you're keeping an eye on it for me? You gonna kiss me now?"
A growl like none Butch had ever heard came out of the guy.
"Okay, okay." The one who seemed the most normal came forward. "Back off, Rhage. Hey, come on. Let's relax."
It took a minute before the model let go.
"That's right. We're cool," Mr. Normal muttered, clapping his buddy on the back before looking at Butch. "Do yourself a favor and shut the hell up."
Butch shrugged. "Blondie's dying to get his hands on me. I can't help it."
The guy launched back at Butch, and Mr. Normal rolled his eyes, letting his friend go this time. The fist that came sailing at jaw level snapped Butch's head to one side. As the pain hit, Butch let his own rage fly. The fear for Beth, the pent-up hatred of these lowlifes, the frustration about his job, all of it came out of him. He tackled the bigger man, taking him down onto the floor. The guy was momentarily surprised, as if he hadn't expected Butch's speed or strength, and Butch took advantage of the hesitation. He clocked Blondie in the mouth as payback and then grabbed ~ J.R. Ward

And I understand my sisters when they say every woman has a story that's been told a maxim of one soul, maybe less
And that is why you'll never hear me call a woman slut, bitch or a dyke,
No matter what she does, because I do not blame her
I blame the men who have emotionally and physically raped her,
I blame these corporations whose images tell them they hate her,
And I put my arms on her shoulder and tell her how great to life and
to God that SHE created her ~ Mark Gonzales

What young people didn't know, she thought, lying down beside this man, his hand on her shoulder, her arm; oh, what young people did not know. They did not know that lumpy, aged, and wrinkled bodies were as needy as their own young, firm ones, that love was not to be tossed away carelessly ... No, if love was available, one chose it, or didn't chose it. And if her platter had been full with the goodness of Henry and she had found it burdensome, had flicked it off crumbs at a time, it was because she had not know what one should know: that day after day was unconsciously squandered ... But here they were, and Olive pictured two slices of Swiss cheese pressed together, such holes they brought to this union
what pieces life took out of you. ~ Elizabeth Strout

Don't turn around," she said, "but there's a gentleman who keeps stealing glances at you from across the room. I've never seen him before. I wonder if he's your Mr. Ravenel?"
"Good heavens, please don't call him my Mr. Ravenel. What does he look like?"
"Dark-haired, clean-shaven and quite sun-browned. Tall, with shoulders as broad as a plowman's. At the moment he's talking with a group of gentlemen, and- oh, my. He has a smile like a hot summer day."
"That would be Mr. Ravenel," Phoebe muttered.
"Well, I recall Henry describing him as pale and stout." Merritt's brows lifted slightly as she peeked over Phoebe's shoulder once more. "Someone had a growth spurt."
"Looks are irrelevant. It's the inner man that counts."
Laughter threaded through Merritt's voice. "I suppose you're right. But the inner Mr. Ravenel happens to be quite beautifully packaged. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I believe another one of the Song girls has a birthday coming up." He sings, "You are sixteen, going on seventeen…" I feel a strong surge of love for him, my dad who I am so lucky to have.
"What song are you singing?" Kitty interrupts.
I take Kitty's hands and spin her around the kitchen with me. "I am sixteen, going on seventeen; I know that I'm naïve. Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet; willingly I believe."
Daddy throws his dish towel over his shoulder and marches in place. In a deep voice he baritones, "You need someone older and wiser telling you what to do…"
"This song is sexist," Kitty says as I dip her.
"Indeed it is," Daddy agrees, swatting her with the towel. "And the boy in question was not, in fact, older and wiser. He was a Nazi in training."
Kitty skitters away from both of us. "What are you guys even talking about?"
"It's from The Sound of Music," I say.
"You mean that movie about the nun? Never seen it."
"How have you seen The Sopranos but not The Sound of Music?"
Alarmed, Daddy says, "Kitty's been watching The Sopranos?"
"Just the commercials," Kitty quickly says.
I go on singing to myself, spinning in a circle like Liesl at the gazebo. "I am sixteen going on seventeen, innocent as a rose…Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet, and willingly I believe…"
"Why would you just willingly believe some random fellows you don't even know?"
"It's the song, Kitty, not me! God!" I stop spinning. "Lies ~ Jenny Han

With stumbling feet, he blindly walked somewhere, anywhere. When
he got to the king's study, he looked over his shoulder and checked the
carpet over which he'd trodden.
No trail of his blood. Which, considering the way his chest was
hurting, was a surprise.
Sure as shit felt like he'd been shot in the heart. ~ J.R. Ward

It was as if she had spoken slightingly of a woman he loved. For he dreamed of peace by day and night. Once in sleep it had appeared to him as the great glowing shoulder of the moon heaving across his window like an iceberg, arctic and destructive in the moment before the world was struck: by day he tried to win a few moments of its company, crouched under the rusting handcuffs in the locked office, reading the reports from the sub-stations. Peace seemed to him the most beautiful word in the language: My peace I give to you, my peace I leave with you: O Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, grant us thy peace. In the Mass he pressed his fingers against his eyes to keep the tears of longing in. ~ Graham Greene

Letter 4

As I lay dreaming, Montezuma introduced himself and put his hand on my shoulder. The palm of the Aztec king felt like ancient papyrus.
When I looked up at him, I saw that his nose was chipped like that of a sphinx. His arms were like long ivory ropes that frayed into hands.
He led me down to the river, where we sat together and shared the river's silence. Then he spoke:
„Allow me to tell you my story. It may help you understand your own.
At dusk, in the year of one thousand rivers, the Spanish explorer Cortés arrived at the gates of my city. I welcomed him with open arms.
I showed Cortés hundreds of aviaries that had built in the city, and finally I took him to the most aviary of sighs. These birds carried only love letters.
Cortes laughed and said that all the bird songs made him feel like a virgin bride who is drunk with faith as she walks down the aisle of the church. On her wedding night, she undresses for her husband and he takes her in his arms. She believes everything is possible.
When Cortés stared straight into my eyes and said 'It is a night that is always colored in blood'." He paused for a long time before he spoke. Then he said, „Cortés returned with a small army of soldiers on horseback. When they ransacked the city, I was Cortes's own hand that lit the torch that set fire to the aviary of sighs.
The fires raged. The birds painted the blue sky black with the ashes of their wings. The gardens were redde ~ Gregory Colbert

Cam placed his hand on her shoulder. "It's not too late."
A thick lump swelled in her throat. "I acted like an idiot."
"That's not a problem," he replied in a comforting tone. "He's been acting like an idiot for weeks now. ~ Stacey O'Neale

Nere, there's a chance I will see you again," Cam says, his dark eyes intent. "If you ever need help, get word to me through the smugglers. I'll come."
I can only nod, afraid to trust my voice. I must look miserable, though, because moments later, he hugs me. I bury my face in his shoulder, his arms tighten around me, and finally I feel safe.
"No matter what happens, I'll always love you," he whispers in my ear. I close my eyes. Do I love him back? I just know Cam is more important to me than any friend I've ever had. I open my eyes and raise my face to him, and then he kisses me. I realize I've been waiting forever for this. Cam's lips are soft and he smells like salt water and fresh sea air. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back. ~ Polly Holyoke

Carly heard the click of Shadowfax's hooves as she came over to them. She snorted in Carly's face and bumped her nose against her shoulder. As Carly petted her, Shadowfax hooked a foreleg over Carly's hip as though to draw her closer for a hug and laid her head over Carly's shoulder with a soft rumble. "Good horse. Thank you for biting that awful man." "I've never seen anything like this," Justin, said with wonder in his voice. "I swear to God, you're like a video game Druid, sending animals to do your bidding. ~ Lissa Bryan

After seeing what you did to that car, I don't think any of these punks are going to be playing chicken with you." Grin feral, the other man slapped him on the shoulder, his strength reverberating through Ethan. "Trust Selya to find herself a mate who can cut people in half. ~ Nalini Singh

You will be the first test subject, Tobias. Beatrice, however ... " She smiles. "You are too injured to be of much use to me, so your execution will occur at the conclusion of this meeting."
I try to hide the shudder that goes through me at the word "execution," my shoulder screaming with pain, and look up at Tobias. It's hard to blink tears back when I see the terror in Tobias's wide, dark eyes.
"No," says Tobias. His voice trembles, but his look stern as he shakes his head. "I would rather die."
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice in that matter," replies Jeanine lightly.
Tobias takes my face in this hands roughly and kisses me, the pressure of his lips pushing mine apart. I forget my pain and the terror of approaching death and for a moment, I am grateful that the memory of that kiss will be fresh in my mind as I meet my end. ~ Veronica Roth

Who said that about you Faye?" he demands, his playful demeanor gone. I smirk. "Someone in the house you've slept with." I watch his face go blank. Jeez how many of the women has he slept with? I tap him on the shoulder. "I'm sure you will be able to figure it out. I suggest doing a chart or a graph. ~ Anonymous

All right, then," she snapped, "do as you please! Perhaps afterward we could manage a coherent discussion." Twisting beneath him, she flopped onto her stomach.

Christopher went still. After a long hesitation, she heard him ask in a far more normal voice, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making it easier for you," came her defiant reply. "Go on, start ravishing."

Another silence. Then, "Why are you facing downward?"

"Because that's how it's done." Beatrix twisted to look at him over her shoulder. A twinge of uncertainty caused her to ask, "Isn't it?"

His face was blank. "Has no one ever told you?"

"No, but I've read about it."

Christopher rolled off her, relieving her of his weight. He wore an odd expression as he asked, "From what books?"

"Veterinary manuals. And of course, I've observed the squirrels in springtime, and farm animals and-"

She was interrupted as Christopher cleared his throat loudly, and again. Darting a confused glance at him, she realized that he was trying to choke back amusement.

Beatrix began to feel indignant. Her first time in a bed with a man, and he was laughing.

"Look here," she said in a businesslike manner, "I've read about the mating habits of over two dozen species, and with the exception of snails, whose genitalia is on their necks, they all - " She broke off and frowned. "Why are you laughing at me?

Christopher had coll ~ Lisa Kleypas

Kadin raised an eyebrow and gave Rob a knowing look. Then he tapped Gregory on the shoulder and said, "It's not that bad. It could be worse."
Gregory shrugged. "I guess I expect too much. All the decent hotels are gone now."
Rob was carrying a delicate white orchid that had been carefully arranged in a low Imari dish. They never visited empty-handed. If it wasn't a special gold box of Gregory's favorite chocolate, it was a small, fine trinket from the antique shop. He placed the arrangement beside Gregory and said, "This is for you. I hope you like orchids. ~ Ryan Field

The cart slowed as they came to a place so dark and quiet that it seemed as if they had entered some remote forest. Peeking beneath the hem of the cart's canvas covering, Garrett saw towering gates covered with ivy, and ghostly sculptures of angels, and solemn figures of men, women, and children with their arms crossed in resignation upon their breasts. Graveyard sculptures. A stab of horror went through her, and she crawled to the front of the cart to where West Ravenel was sitting with the driver.
"Where the devil are you taking us, Mr. Ravenel?"
He glanced at her over his shoulder, his brows raised. "I told you before- a private railway station."
"It looks like a cemetery."
"It's a cemetery station," he admitted. "With a dedicated line that runs funeral trains out to the burial grounds. It also happens to connect to the main lines and branches of the London Ironstone Railroad, owned by our mutual friend Tom Severin."
"You told Mr. Severin about all this? Dear God. Can we trust him?"
West grimaced slightly. "One never wants to be in the position of having to trust Severin," he admitted. "But he's the only one who could obtain clearances for a special train so quickly."
They approached a massive brick and stone building housing a railway platform. A ponderous stone sign adorned the top of the carriage entrance: Silent Gardens. Just below it, the shape of an open book emblazoned with words had been carved in the stone. Ad Meliora. "Toward be ~ Lisa Kleypas