Life Flashes Before Your Eyes Quotes

As Your Life Flashes Before Your Eyes At The Point Of Death, Let's Hope The Ad Breaks Have Been Edited Out ~ Dean Cavanagh

If Life flashes before your eyes just before you die ... mine will be wearing a trench coat ~ Josh Stern

They say that when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. They never tell you that when you watch someone you once loved dying, hovering between this life and the next, it's twice as painful, because you're reliving two lives that traveled one road together. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

They say when you're about to die, your entire life flashes before your eyes. Well, now I know that when you're about to kill someone, the same thing happens. Except that instead of your entire life, it's just the moments you had spent with that person, and as every moment flashes by, it now contains a chainsaw. ~ Cherry Cheva

I fought angrily against seeing particular types of poetic organization because it seemed awful to see my own life and these actual events in that way. But when you put forth an intention into the universe to speak a certain truth and narrate a certain period of your life, you start to see the sorts of symmetries that you are not usually supposed to be able to see until you are on your deathbed and your life flashes before your eyes. And you see exactly why everything happened. And even the most painful things you've ever been through can seem unbearably beautiful. ~ Joanna Newsom

Zenosyne.

It's actually just after you're born that life flashes before your eyes.

Entire aeons are lived in those first few months when you feel inseparable from the world itself, with nothing to do but watch it passing by.

At first, time is only felt vicariously, as something that happens to other people. You get used to living in the moment, because there's nowhere else to go. But soon enough, life begins to move, and you learn to move with it. And you take it for granted that you're a different person every year,
Upgraded with a different body...a different future. You run around so fast, the world around you seems to stand still. Until a summer vacation can stretch on for an eternity.
You feel time moving forward, learning its rhythm, but now and then it skips a beat, as if your birthday arrives one day earlier every year.

We should consider the idea that youth is not actually wasted on the young. That their dramas are no more grand than they should be. That their emotions make perfect sense, once you adjust for inflation. For someone going through adolescence, life feels epic and tragic simply because it is: every kink in your day could easily warp the arc of your story. Because each year is worth a little less than the last. And with each birthday we circle back, and cross the same point around the sun. We wish each other many happy returns.

But soon you feel the circle begin to tighten, and you realize i ~ The Dictionary Of Obscure Sorrows

You know how they say that right before you die your life flashes before your eyes? It doesn't. That is just a notion they came up with for books and movies to make death seem romantic. Here's what really happens: Your intestines feel like a dishrag that's being wrung dry and your stomach acts like a balloon when you let the air out of it ~ Dinah Katt

They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die, you see things in your life, the important moments --the moments that tested you, the moments that made you who you are. I don't know about my life flashes before me, I was thinking about my white coat... it's the moment my life started, same fitting should be on me when it ends
We're all gonna die. We don;t get much say on how or when, but we do get to decide how we are gonna live. So do it, decide. Is this the life you want to live? Is this the person you want to love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? kinder? more compassionate? Decide. Breathe in...Breathe out...and decide. ~ Robert P. Webber

when you're sitting on a plane 40, 000 feet up in the air, looking out the window, dreaming of your future and how bright it appears to be, or maybe just watching the drops of rain being pushed into different designs from the force of air at 400 mph, well, life feels good. it feels safe, your seat belt is on and your feet are up. then the oxygen masks fall, the plane jumps, snaps and jolts. people start to scream, babies burst out crying, people start praying all in time to the overhead announcement that we're gonna crash. right then, as your life flashes before your eyes, you hear yourself say, "god, if you get me outta this one, i'll stop [insert lie here] forever." right then the nose of the plane pulls up and the captain says, "wow, that was a close one, folks. we're ok, we'll be landing in thirty minutes and we're all safe and sound, sorry for the scare…" that's how getting hooked on junk is, and when the kick is over you can't believe you ever got on that plane in the first place. the question is, will you ever fly again? ~ Nikki Sixx

The river is now. This moment. This breath between us. The space between your heartbeats. The moment before you blink. The instant a thought flashes through your mind. It is everything that is around us. Life. Energy. Flowing, endlessly flowing, carrying you from then ... to now ... to tomorrow. Listen: you can hear the music of it. Of the passage of time. ~ Lisa Mangum

They say that right before you die your whole life flashes before you – a medley of your own personal greatest hits. Well then, I must be about to live, because events that haven't happened yet are constantly pushing themselves into my head. ~ Emlyn Chand

Say you could view a time lapse film of our planet: what would you see?

Transparent images moving through light, "an infinite storm of beauty."
The beginning is swaddled in mists, blasted by random blinding flashes. Lava pours and cools; seas boil and flood. Clouds materialize and shift; now you can see the earth's face through only random patches of clarity. The land shudders and splits, like pack ice rent by widening lead. Mountains burst up, jutting, and dull and soften before your eyes, clothed in forests like felt. The ice rolls up, grinding green land under water forever; the ice rolls back. Forests erupt and disappear like fairy rings. The ice rolls up- mountains are mowed into lakes, land rises wet from the sea like a surfacing whale- the ice rolls back.

A blue-green streaks the highest ridges, a yellow-green spreads from the south like a wave up a strand. A red dye seems to leak from the north down the ridges and into the valleys, seeping south; a white follows the red, then yellow-green washes north, then red spreads again, then white, over and over, making patterns of color too intricate to follow. Slow the film. You see dust storms, locusts, floods, in dizzying flash-frames.

Zero in on a well-watered shore and see smoke from fires drifting. Stone cities rise, spread, and crumble, like paths of alpine blossoms that flourish for a day an inch above the permafrost, that iced earth no root can suck, and wither in a hour. New cit ~ Annie Dillard

Life is subjective as far as memories are concerned. I mean, what pieces of your own life do you really remember? Some good times, some bad times definitely, but mostly you remember those times that really stand out, those times that define who you are as an individual. Now's the time my life flashes before me - flickering recollections, vacations, holidays, friendships, the moments that made a difference. Mostly I remember that weekend with Kaylee. ~ Megan Bostic

Some days, my life flashes before me in the blink of an eye, until I get to the scenes I wish I could change, and they play over again and again, until I can't see straight. Promise me though, you'll stop pouring every ounce of yourself into work. Save a part of your life for something else. ~ Rebecca Raisin

Good. I would hate to have you eaten before we even started," he purred, raking his claws across the wood. "You appear to have the same recklessness as your sister, always rushing into things without thinking them through."
"Don't compare me to Meghan," I said, narrowing my eyes. "I'm not like her."
"Indeed. She, at least, had a pleasant personality. ~ Julie Kagawa

Too cold even to snow - that winter presents a strange and haunted season during which Werner prowls the static like he used to prowl the alleys with Jutta, pulling her in the wagon through the colonies of Zollverein. A voice materializes out of the distortion in his headphones, then fades, and he goes ferreting after it. There, thinks Werner when he finds it again, there: a feeling like shutting your eyes and feeling your way down a mile-long thread until your fingernails find the tiny lump of a knot. Sometimes days pass after hearing a first transmission before Werner snares the next; they present a problem to solve, something to wrap his mind around: better, surely, than fighting in some ~ Anthony Doerr

He began to stand, and saw Lyon stiffen, poised to do whatever he needed to do. He, like Lyon, could throw himself on a pyre, too. Because fire cleansed. She'd won, and he'd lost.

It had stopped mattering. Her happiness was indistinguishable from his own. No matter what became of him, he wanted her to know he loved her.

"You'd best get out of here, Redmond. Your secret is safe with me."

Lyon's eyes flared in wary surprise. He froze. And his smile, when it came, was slow, and crooked, and he looked very like Lavay when Lavay was being insufferably knowing.

"Ah. You do love her more than life. Splendid. And that, my dear Lord Flint, is what I came here today to discover."

Whatever he felt was between him and Violet. "Go before I change my mind, Redmond. ~ Julie Anne Long

Naked before my eyes,
I thank whatever Gods created your
ancestors. ~ Ijeoma Umebinyuo

He leaned closer. "That's what I'm trying to do. Your face is absolutely adorable when you blush."

My ears burned. Oh great, am I the color of a tomato now?

"Yeah, well, I can make you blush," I retorted. "By telling you how hot you are, and that when that little piece of black hair falls into your eyes, it's so sexy it makes me forget my words, and..." I stopped, suddenly aware of how warm the mausoleum was.

"Go on," Caspian prodded, shaking his head so that his hair covered one green eye. I blushed again, and glanced around me, slowly backing away from him. I just needed some... space to clear my head. He followed me, stalking my every move. My blood felt like pure oxygen racing through my veins, fizzy and bubbling and making me want to float away. A hard wall at my back stopped me, but Caspian kept coming. I thought desperately of some way to change the subject.

"I got you Moby-Dick," I blurted out. He gave me a sly smile.
"Mmmm, did you? How... interesting."
"And Treasure Island, and The Count of Monte Cristo." I babbled on. "I thought you might like some boy books." He stopped an inch away from me. I felt like I was his prisoner.

"Let's go back to the sexy and hot thing," Caspian said. "Could we add a gorgeous or mysterious in there, too?"
I gulped. "Like you don't already know you're all of those things. You probably had girls falling all over you before."

Caspian cocked his head to on ~ Jessica Verday

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

Noon. In the middle of Knoll Road. In it up to your waist, wearing your father's old reindeer sweater, your mother's fur-lined gloves. Squinting across an infinite ocean of white. Shivering. Breathing. Listening. To nothing. There are no cars, no mailboxes, no traffic islands, no sound. The triple-deckers are now double-deckers and everything's muffled and buried and gone. You yell and you are the only one yelling. The only one breathing. The only one there. The faint chime of a city plow in the distance. The wail of one of Schoerner's penned-up hounds. But no one is with you. No one to contradict you. And you dare to close your eyes and fill up your lungs with winter, your destiny before you like a map of the world. And the wind seems to whisper promises, and you, with arms outstretched and chin to the heavens, swear oaths back to the wind - little things, like fulfilling prophecies and charting new courses and going forth from this time and this place to do great and wondrous things. But first, of course, it will be necessary to get high. ~ Bob Flaherty

You are the makers of your own fortunes. You make yourselves suffer, you make good and evil, and it is you who put your hands before your eyes and say it is dark. Take your hands away and see the light. ~ Swami Vivekananda

I have read of a gentleman who owned a so fine house in London, and when he went for months of summer to Switzerland and lock up his house, some burglar came and broke window at back and got in. Then he went and made open the shutters in front and walk out and in through the door, before the very eyes of the police. Then he have an auction in that house, and advertise it, and put up big notice; and when the day come he sell off by a great auctioneer all the goods of that other man who own them. Then he go to a builder, and he sell him that house, making an agreement that he pull it down and take all away within a certain time. And your police and other authority help him all they can. And when that owner come back from his holiday in Switzerland he find only an empty hole where his house had been. This was all done en règle; and in our work we shall be en règle too. We shall not go so early that the policemen who have then little to think of, shall deem it strange; but we shall go after ten o'clock, when there are many about, and such things would be done were we indeed owners of the house. ~ Bram Stoker

Look up," the darkness whispered,
"Do you wish to travel time?
For there are centuries of stories
Hidden inside each star's shine.
Yet what you see is just a sentence
In a tale with many more,
For the light reaching us now
Left the home countless years before.
And someday in the future
Long after your last goodbye,
Perhaps somebody else
Will turn their eyes upto the sky.
And where now you just see darkness
They will see a brand new light,
The beginning of a story
That has just left home tonight. ~ Emily Hanson

Damen said, with helpless honesty, "Laurent, I am your slave."

The words laid him open, truth exposed in the space between them. He wanted to prove it, as though, inarticulate, he could make up for what divided them. He was aware of the shallowness of Laurent's breath, it matched his own; they were breathing each other's air.

He reached out, watching for any hesitation in Laurent's eyes. The touch he offered was accepted as it had not been last time, fingers gentle on Laurent's jaw, thumb passing over his cheekbone, soft. Laurent's controlled body was hard with tension, his rapid pulse urgent for flight, but he closed his eyes in the last seconds before it happened. Damen's palm slid over Laurent's warm nape; slowly, very slowly, making his height an offering, not a threat, Damen leaned in and kissed Laurent on the mouth.

The kiss was barely a suggestion of itself, with no yielding of the rigidity in Laurent, but the first kiss became a second, after a fraction of parting in which Damen felt the flicker of Laurent's shallow breathing against his own lips.

It felt, in all the lies between them, as if this was the only true thing. It didn't matter that he was leaving tomorrow. He felt remade with the desire to give Laurent this: to give him all he would allow, and to ask for nothing, this careful threshold something to be savoured because it was all Laurent would let himself have. ~ C.S. Pacat

Really, Nan could be very odious when she liked. Yet somehow she [Gay] didn't hate her as before. She felt very indifferent to her. She found herself looking at her with cool, appraising eyes, seeing her as she had never seen her before. An empty, selfish little creature, who had always to be amused like a child. ...A girl who posed as a sophisticate before her country cousins but who was really more provincial than they were, knowing nothing of real life or real love or real emotion of any kind. Gay wondered, as she looked, how she could ever have hated this girl - ever been jealous of her. She was not worth hating. Gay spoke at last. She stood up and looked levelly at Nan. There was contempt in her quiet voice.

"I suppose you came here to hurt me, Nan. You haven't - you can never hurt me again. You've lost the power. I think I even feel a little sorry for you. You've always been a taker, Nan. All through your life you've taken whatever you wanted. But you've never been a giver - you couldn't be because you've nothing to give. Neither love nor truth nor understanding nor kindness nor loyalty. Just taking all the time and giving nothing - oh, it has made you very poor. So poor that nobody need envy you. ~ L.M. Montgomery

His eyes drifted shut. without opening them, he murmured, "I like the sound of your laugh. It's real and genuine. A lot of girls have this fake laugh. Not you."
"I like your laugh, too." I whispered, feeling pulled in, cozy in the cacoon of his bed.
"Yeah?"
I flattened my palm over his chest, enjoying the sensation of the firm flesh, even warm as it was. He sighed, like my cool hand offered him some relief.
"I laugh more since you came around," he said quietly, his lips barely forming the words.
He did? I frowned. He must not have laughed at all before, then, because I didn't think he was particularly jovial.
I held him through the night. And he held me back, tucking my head beneath his chin. His arms surrounded me and kept me close to his overly warm body. Almost like I was some kind of lifeline. I felt the moment his fever broke around one in the morning. I finally relaxed and fell asleep. ~ Sophie Jordan

Stand strong, firm and rooted like a solid tree. Though distractions may cause you to waver, remain balanced and calm. Otherwise, you will surely snap in half and fall to the ground at the slightest hint of difficulty. Be a filter, not a sponge. Learn to remove unnecessary junk from your life before it becomes a part of who you are. Stand tall, stand proud, keep your eyes and your body focused. Otherwise, you will blow away with the slightest gust of wind. ~ Leigh Hershkovich

Consider the sunlight. You may see it is near, yet if you follow it from world to world you will never catch it in your hands. Then you may describe it as far away and, lo, you will see it just before your eyes. Follow it and, behold, it escapes you; run from it and it follows you close. You can neither possess it nor have done with it. From this example you can understand how it is with the true Nature of all things and, henceforth, there will be no need to grieve or to worry about such things. ~ Huang Po

I thank you, Wilhelm, for your heartfelt sympathy, for your well-intentioned advice, but beg you to be quiet. Let me stick it out. Blessedly exhausted as I am, I have strength enough to carry through. I honor religion, you know that, I feel it is a staff for many weary souls, refreshment for many a one who is pining away. But--can it be, must it be, the same thing for everyone? If you look at the great world, you see thousands for whom it wasn't, thousands for whom it will not be the same, preached or unpreached, and must it then be the same for me? Does not the son of God Himself say that those would be around Him whom the Father had given Him? But if I am not given? If the Father wants to keep me for Himself, as my heart tells me?--I beg you, do not misinterpret this, do not see mockery in these innocent words. What I am laying before you is my whole soul; otherwise I would rather have kept silent, as I do not like to lose words over things that everyone knows as little about as I do. What else is it but human destiny to suffer out one's measure, drink up one's cup?--And if the chalice was too bitter for the God from heaven on His human lips, why should I boast and pretend that it tastes sweet to me? And why should I be ashamed in the terrible moment when my entire being trembles between being and nothingness, since the past flashes like lightning above the dark abyss of the future and everything around me is swallowed up, and the world perishes with me?--Is that not the vo ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

His eyes narrowed to menacing slits. "But that doesn't mean that if you refuse my offer and stay, I'll stand by and let you have her. I won't. In the end you'll lose, and you won't even have the consolation of my gold." He took his foot off the chair and leaned forward, planting his hands on the table as he eyed Petey with suspicion. "Why all the questions, Hargraves? You'd give up any hope of riches and adventure just to marry Miss Willis?"
"No, of course not," Petey said hastily, before the pirate's suspicions could be truly roused. "You can be sure I'd prefer this scepter and the chance to be off this island to Miss Willis any day." He paused, weighing his words. "I just don't understand why you don't feel the same."
Captain Horn drew himself up with the bearing of one of those nobles he so distained. "That's none of your concern. Do you want the thing or not? Because if you don't - " he broke off as he reached for the scepter.
Petey jerked it back. "I want it." He wasn't sure if he was playing this right, but it didn't look as if he had any choice.
"I want it. I'll be off your island tomorrow."
For a moment, Petey could have sworn he saw relief in the captain's face. Then the man's expression hardened. "One more thing - you're not to speak to her of any of this, you understand? You must promise to leave tomorrow without a word to her. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Do not close your eyes before suffering. Find ways to be with those who are suffering by all means, Including personal contact and visits, images, sound. By such means, awaken yourself and others to the reality of suffering in the world. ~ Gautama Buddha

Oh, well, I know that Libby." He rolls his eyes. "I've never met anyone more committed to, well, life that you are."
"Really?" I swallow rather hard. "Even though I keep on screwing my life up?"
"Sweetheart, precisely because you keep screwing your life up! I mean look at you. You had the crappiest career eve in the world before you turned everything around and became this shit-hot jewellery designer. You set your head on fire with a cigarette and ended up being utterly adored by the guy who had to put you out... And I do adore you, by the way," he adds, in a nonchalant sort of way, "in case you ever had wondered. Oh, and then there's your love of life. Loads of girls would have just sunk... ~ Lucy Holliday

Life leaves scars. Sometimes you don't see them until later. Sometimes you don't know where they've come from. Sometimes they fade before your eyes. But the world leaves its mark on us. ~ Karina Halle

What you're saying is this spider, with a brain the size of strawberry seed, hid in your car with its face covered to avoid being gassed by insect spray." He stood in front of me, laughing, peering down into my eyes. "And then, when the fumes dispersed, he set about plotting revenge. Once he'd come up with his plan, he exited your car and, even though he didn't see which direction you went in, he found the front door because he knew you were inside this house." Biting down on his bottom lip, Ric smirked. "Don't you think, if he was as smart as all that, he'd have worn a mask before he ran out from under visor so you couldn't recognise him on your doormat? ~ Zathyn Priest

Who are you?" Rosemary said in amazement. She had never seen men like these before. Cloaks of green and brown fell from their broad shoulders and every hand gripped a round shield an evil-looking spear. Beneath the thick yellow hair, eyes glinted hard and wild.
One of the men rode near and peered down at Rosemary. Unlike the rest, he was clean-shaven and pleasant-looking, and she was surprised to see that he was no older than herself. Nonetheless his blond-red hair was bound with golden circlet and he was obviously the leader. He suddenly smiled at her and his eyes were bright with humour and curiosity.
"It is hardly your place to question us, girl."
He reached out and touched her hair.
"Hair like the night...and such strange clothing. But you are fair-faced. Whose slave might you be? ~ O.R. Melling

Then as she looked up in his face, he smiled most sweetly and said something he had never said before, You have one real beauty, Much-Afraid, you have such trustful eyes. Trust is one of the much beautiful things in the world. When I look at the trust in your eyes I find you more beautiful to look upon than many a lovely queen. ~ Hannah Hurnard

Put your glasses on mate ….. Come down from there, you're gonna kill yourself …. Well, what does your Method Statement say? …. Right, let's get you re-inducted. You need a reminder of site rules ….. Where are your outriggers, mate? ….. Put your glasses on ….. Put your glasses on …. Put your glasses on …. Oh, they steam up, do they? I've never heard that one before …. Where's your mask? If you breathe this shit in you're going to kill yourself. Silicosis is incurable ….. Right STOP! Do not reverse another inch without a banksman ….. Don't put your glasses on just because you see me walk around the corner. They won't protect MY eyes …. Hook yourself on, what's the matter with you? Are all you scaffolders superhuman or something? ….. Put your glasses on ….. Oi! What stops me walking right in there? Where's your barriers and signage? ….. Oi! I'm getting showered in fucking sparks here. And so is that can of petrol ….. Put your glasses on …. Where's the flashback arrestor on this bottle of propane? ….. Hey, pal, stop welding until you've sheeted up ….. What are you doing climbing up there? Where's your supervisor? What did he say about access in this morning's Safe Start briefing? Nothing? Right, he can sit through another induction tomorrow ….. Where are the retaining pins to the joint clamps in this concrete pump line? SEAMUS! Fucking deal with this, will you? ….Put your glasses on …. Hey! Hey! Come here! Why have you got a nail instead of an 'R' clip to the quick-hitch system o ~ Karl Wiggins

How long does it last?" Said the other customer, a man wearing a tan shirt with little straps that buttoned on top of the shoulders. He looked as if he were comparing all the pros and cons before shelling out $.99. You could see he thought he was pretty shrewd.
"It lasts for as long as you live," the manager said slowly. There was a second of silence while we all thought about that. The man in the tan shirt drew his head back, tucking his chin into his neck. His mind was working like a house on fire
"What about other people?" He asked. "The wife? The kids?"
"They can use your membership as long as you're alive," the manager said, making the distinction clear.
"Then what?" The man asked, louder. He was the type who said things like "you get what you pay for" and "there's one born every minute" and was considering every angle. He didn't want to get taken for a ride by his own death.
"That's all," the manager said, waving his hands, palms down, like a football referee ruling an extra point no good. "Then they'd have to join for themselves or forfeit the privileges."
"Well then, it makes sense," the man said, on top of the situation now, "for the youngest one to join. The one that's likely to live the longest."
"I can't argue with that," said the manager.
The man chewed his lip while he mentally reviewed his family. Who would go first. Who would survive the longest. He cast his eyes around to all the cassettes as if he'd see one that would ~ Michael Dorris

Is this the bit where my whole life passes in front of my eyes?" He said.
NO, THAT WAS THE BIT JUST NOW.
"Which bit?"
THE BIT, said Death, BETWEEN YOU BEING BORN AND YOU DYING. NO THIS ... MR. TULIP, THIS IS YOUR WHOLE LIFE AS IT PASSED BEFORE OTHER PEOPLE'S EYES ... ~ Terry Pratchett

I am merciful,' exclaimed Glokta, waving his hand airily, as the ambassador himself had done but a few short minutes before, 'but my mercy has limits. Speak.'

'I am here under a flag of parley, on a mission from the Emperor himself! To harm an unarmed emissary would be expressly against the rules of war!'

'Parley? Rules of war?' Glokta chuckled. Severard chuckled. Vitari chuckled. Frost was silent. 'Do they even have those any more? Save that rubbish for children like Vissbruck, that's not the way grown-ups play the game. Who is the traitor?'

'I pity you, cripple! When the city falls - '

Save your pity. You'll need it for yourself. Frost's fist scarcely made any sound as it sank into the ambassador's stomach. His eyes bulged out, his mouth hung open, he coughed a dry cough, somewhere close to vomiting, tried to breathe and coughed again.

'Strange, isn't it,' mused Glokta as he watched him struggle for air. 'Big men, small men, thin men, fat men, clever men, stupid men, they all respond the same to a fist in the guts. One minute you think you're the most powerful man in the world. The next you can't even breathe by yourself. Some kinds of power are nothing but tricks of the mind. Your people taught me that. ~ Joe Abercrombie

You've won," Jack said softly. He looked at Mimi with such fiery hatred that she almost cowered at his words. But she was no weakling. She was Azrael, and Azrael did not cower, not even to Abbadon.
"I've won nothing," Mimi replied coldly. "Please remember that almost all of the Elders are dead, that the
Dark Prince is ascendant, and what is left of the Conclave is being led by a broken man who used to be the strongest of us all. And yet all you seem to care about, my darling, is that you no longer get to play with your little love toy."
Instead of answering her, Jack flew across the room and slapped her hard across the face, sending her
crashing to the floor. But before he could wield another blow, Mimi leaped up and slammed him against the window, knocking him completely out of breath.
"Is this what you want?" she hissed as she lifted him up by his shirt collar, his face turning a ghastly shade of red.
"Don't let me destroy you," he sneered.
"Just try, my sweet."
Jack twisted out of her grasp and flipped her over, kicking her down the length of the room. She sprung up with her hands clenched, her nails sharp as claws, and fangs bared. They met halfway in the air, and Jack put a hand on her throat and began to squeeze. But she scratched at his eyes and wrenched her body so that she was rolling on top of him, her sword at his throat, with the upper hand.
SUBMIT. Mimi sent.
NEVER. ~ Melissa De La Cruz

I don't want to be just your friend, Willow."
She took a step closer, her body pressing suggestively up against his.
"Then what do you want to be, Re?" she asked in a husky whisper.
Holding her stare, his eyes narrowed, begging to understand what she was doing to him.
"I want to be your lover."
"Such things you do say, sir," she said playfully, trying to pull away from his firm grasp.
Re's fingers tightened around her wrists. Never before had a woman refused him, not even through all the games they played with him. That this one was daring to do so, both angered and hurt him. ~ Faye Hall