Obsidian Lux 01 Quotes

This guy was flipping my bitch switch like nothing else. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I will burn this world down to save her ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

„Did you just…clean a dish?" Dee backed away slowly, blinking. She glanced at Daemon. "The world is going to end. And I'm still a vir - " "No!" both the brothers yelled in unison. Daemon looked like he was actually going to vomit. "Jesus, don't ever finish that statement. Actually, don't ever change that. Thank you. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

To Daemon, my arrival was the beginning of the end. The apocalypse. Kat-mageddon. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

The last thing he felt was Bethany being pulled from his limp arms. A finality of black crashed over him in waves he couldn't surface from, welcoming him into the nothingness that dug in deep, refusing to ever let him go. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

He was
a jerk. Moody. But there had been brief moments that I'd spent with him - like a nanosecond - when I thought I might have seen the real Daemon. At
least a better Daemon. And that part made me curious. And the other side, the jerky one, yeah, that part didn't make me curious.
It sort of excited me. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I was clenching the steering wheel like a granny, but driving like I was trying out for NASCAR. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

How does one go on after doing such unspeakable things? It's
all rather simple, really," he continued, speaking in someone else's voice. "Say to yourself, 'What things?' And it becomes clear ... you are blameless. They brought it on themselves. What have they ever done for you except control your life? They tore you away from your sister; they ripped you from your home. Did you ask to be saved? No! Forget them and start over ... with us, your true family, my Corcitura, my own. ~ Melika Dannese Lux

Oh, come now, Manon," Ilyse laughed, "It's my job to liven things up a bit, too. I can't let you and your dimples have all the fun. ~ Melika Dannese Lux

There is so a real poem," said Fatima, annoyed. "The real Conference of the Birds was written by someone, by a real person. He had certain intentions. I want to know what they are. He wrote the poem for a reason, and the reason matters."

"Does it?" Vikram stretched his toes, revealing a row of claws as black as obsidian. "Once a story leaves the hand of its author, it belongs to the reader. And the reader may see any number of things, conflicting things, contradictory things. The author goes silent. If what he intended matter so very much, there would be no need for inquisitions, schisms and wars. But he is silent, silent. The author of the poem is silent, the author of the world is silent. We are left with no intentions but our own. ~ G. Willow Wilson

To say it was a beautiful day would not begin to explain it. It was that day when the end of summer intersects perfectly with the start of fall ... [p.218 ff.] ~ Ann Patchett

When women's truths are denied, they have no recourse but to turn to a socially acceptable fiction; when the only means to achieve their ends are laced with falsehood, women embrace that means because they have to. ~ Lux Alptraum

I'm game for anything with you, Daemon Black. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

No poem ever bought a hamburger, or not too many. ~ Thomas Lux

What can he tell them? He, who knows nothing. Ibn al Mohammed has not planned atrocities nor committed them. He has never been in the presence of terrorists. Yet Satan's agents suspect him. He is dark-complected. His hair and beard are black. His name is Muslim. Body tall and slender, hands large, their fingers long and tapered. Dark eyes sunken in a narrow face. Irises like obsidian. He prays on hands and knees, forehead touching the floor. Thoughtlessly aligned, his cage obliges him to face a white plastic wall to bow toward Mecca. No matter; Ibn al Mohammed requires no sight of ocean or sky to know his place in the universe. He knows himself as one chosen, beloved of God. A man whose devotion will allow him to be saved.

Standing at the bars, he stares at the plastic wall. Modesty panel, they call it. The detainee wills nothing, attempts nothing, merely stares at blankness as his mind opens toward such signs as might appear. Something, nothing. However little, however great, whatever God vouchsafes is sufficient. The least sign is enough. A crease in the plastic. A shadow cast against its insensate skin, then fleeing, gone. A raindrop: trickling through the roof, one small drop might touch the wall, leave a transparent streak, a tear without sorrow to confirm his understanding of what is and must be. Recognition. Acceptance. By such a sign he will know he is not forsaken. That God notices and prepares a place.

He will not serve in the harvest. He will ~ John Lauricella I 2094 I

Mainly horror movies and exploitation movies and a lot of stuff comes from those press books from those old movies. Lines out of old movies, comic books that we collect, all the old horror comics of the 50s, probably about the only comics that we collect are obscure horror comics, the real sick ones from the 50s. Some stuff comes from there but mainly just old records, old rockabilly records and that stuff, singles mainly, 45s. ~ Lux Interior

You read too much." Daemon exhaled slowly. [ ... ]
"There's no such thing as that. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I'm too much a man for hysterics.
Liu, Marjorie M. (2009-01-20). Hunter Kiss: A Companion Novella to The Iron Hunt and Darkness Calls (A Hunter Kiss Novella) (Kindle Locations 355-356). Penguin Group US. Kindle Edition. ~ Marjorie M. Liu

I had no idea if the photos [of Osama bin Laden's dead body] would ever be made public, and I didn't care. ~ Mark Owen

Listen for somebody trying to talk to you ...
(Silence)
This from that very pit of night, naked in the wasteland, the ice-wind moaning his only covering, alone in the freezing darkness under a sky of chill obsidian
Whoever tried to talk to me? When did I ever listen? When was I ever other than just myself, caring only for myself? ~ Iain M. Banks

I've read about this in books, imagined it in my mind countless times since I've been here, but to actually witness it is something entirely different. I thought I was prepared, but nothing - no amount of book learning or supposed life experience or bravado - can make you invulnerable to the sight of a vampire drinking blood. ~ Melika Dannese Lux

The ears were large, flaring forward, the eyes limpid amber, in which the pupil floated like a glittering jewel, changing color with shifts of the light: obsidian, emerald, ruby, opal, amethyst, diamond. ~ William S. Burroughs

The shadow pulled away, moving forward quickly. My first instinct screamed Arum and to push away from it. I reached blindly for the obsidian necklace, realizing too late I didn't have it anymore.
"You're still having nightmares," the shadow said.
At the sound of the familiar voice, fear gave way to rage so potent that it tasted like a battery acid. I was on my feet before I knew it.
"Blake," I spat. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I tutted. "That's cold, Nate."
"Hey - " He pointed his finger at me.
"I'm not a complete shit. I realized later that night that it was a stupid bloody idea and I felt awful."
"Felt awful?" Nathan harrumphed.
"You cried your eyes out." I pinched my lips together to keep from laughing. Nate scowled.
"Manly tears. Manly tears of regret."
Young, Samantha (2014-01-07). Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street Book 3) (Kindle Locations 2913-2916). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition. ~ Samantha Young

/* Arduino Blink LED Sketch by Mary Smith, created 07/01/13 */ void setup() { pinMode(13, OUTPUT); // set digital pin 13 to output } void loop() { digitalWrite(13, HIGH); // turn on digital pin 13 delay(1000); // pause for one second digitalWrite(13, LOW); // turn off digital pin 13 delay(1000); // pause for one second ~ Anonymous

Death stalked toward us on padded feet.
And it was not alone. ~ Melika Dannese Lux

I don't care about traditional photography. I want more control. ~ Loretta Lux

We met when we were only 16, at a high school dance. When he died, we were 50. I remember how I didn't want that day to end, terrible as it was. I didn't want to go to sleep because as long as I was awake, it was still a day that I shared with Sean. ~Beverly Eckert ~ Garrett M. Graff

In a tree-shaded pasture, seventeen adult tortoises randomly stood around. As I fed them spinach leaves sold by an opportune vendor, they tolerated my gentle strokes to their boney skullcaps and the warm black skin on their necks. It was as thin and delicate as the skin on a grandmother's hand. Their obsidian black eyes gleamed with deep wisdom and patience - Dalai Lamas on the half shell. Back ~ Kristine K. Stevens

Kitten?"
"Yeah?"
His eyes were beautiful when they met mine, luminous and clear, and a long moment stretched out between us. "I love you. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Son-- "We don't need ladders, we have obsidian, bro."

Mommy's thoughts-- "...............................
.......fucking minecraft ~ Mel Brown