She And Her Cat Quotes

And then after that long, long phone call, she wept. ~ Makoto Shinkai

I love her face when she smiles. But it could be that her smile is a lie that she uses to hide her clenched teeth. I don't understand why she cried. I can't even say, "You'll be all right." But I will always be by your side. After all, I am your cat. ~ Makoto Shinkai

So she learned at the age of almost twenty-six how to kiss a lover. Such kisses involved tongues, lips, taste, feel, and soft, needy noises that had her pressing up into his body and wanting to consume him with her hands and her mouth. ~ Grace Burrowes

Quinn Cummings is a master story-teller and her book is nothing short of delightful. Her insights into topics like celebrity, parenting, and cats with a taste for homicide are pithy and uproarious and not to be missed. Notes from the Underwire is charming, hilarious, and just snarky enough to be ultimately satisfying. ~ Jen Lancaster

You damn fool!" one of the men grated in angry concern as they both squatted down on their haunches and peered anxiously at her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Bracing herself on her forearms, Lauren lifted her chagrined gaze from the man's shoes to his face. "Auditioning for the circus," she told him dryly, "And for an encore, I usually fall off a bridge."
A rich chuckle sounded from the other man as he took her firmly by the shoulders and helped her to her feet. "What's your name?" he asked, and when Lauren had told him,he added worriedly, "Can you walk?"
"For miles," Laruen assured him unsteadily. Every muscle in her body was protesting, and her left ankle was throbbing painfully.
"Then I guess you can make it as far as the building so we can have a look at the damage," he said with a smile in his voice. ~ Judith McNaught

Claud twisted the television dial and amused himself by studying Flora's fair, pensive face. Her eyes were lowered and her mouth compressed over the serious business of arranging Elfine's future. He fancied she was tracing a pattern with the tip of her shoe. She could not look at him, because public telephones were not fitted with television dials. 'Oh, yes, we certainly don't ~ Stella Gibbons

You are already part of a family," Desari reminded him,her body brushing his, her arms circling his waist from behind. She had materialized out of nowhere,her presence filling the healing chamber.
She was there.Completing him. His air. His heart.The part of his soul that really lived and loved and mattered. Without conscious thought he sent up a quick prayer of thanks that he had been granted such a priceless treasure when he felt so undeserving of her.
Julian loved the way she smelled. He inhaled, and her scent washed over him, clean and sexy. "This mess? With all these males?" Julian allowed a low, rumbling growl to escape. "This is no family. This is a man's nightmare."
Desari deliberately moved against him, her body soft and pliant with invitation. "Is that what you think?"
"What I think is"-Julian circled her slender throat with his large hand in mock threat- "you are deliberately tempting me when I have important, pressing business to atttend to. ~ Christine Feehan

I wondered if she was truly Rahtan. Yes, she was skilled, but she didn't exactly possess brawn - even if she had managed to overtake me and slam me up against the wall. But juggling? Riddles? Her age. Her poise and demeanor was that of a cynical tested soldier, but her appearance - she was young, younger than me, I was certain. Her black hair fell in thick, long waves, and her hands were delicate, her fingers more suited for a piano than a sword. ~ Mary E. Pearson

I room with Louisa. Louisa is older and her hair is like a red-and-gold noisy ocean down her back. There's so much of it, she can't even keep it in with braids or buns or scrunchies. Her hair smells like strawberries; she smells better than any girl I've ever known. I could breathe her in forever.

My first night here, when she lifted her blouse to change for bed, in the moment before that crazy hair fell over her body like a protective cape, I saw them, all of them, and I sucked my breath in hard.

She said, "Don't be scared, little one."

I wasn't scared. I'd just never seen a girl with skin like mine. ~ Kathleen Glasgow

I help up my left hand. The sapphire and diamonds sparkled.
"Oh my God," my mom said and fell out of her chair.
"Mom? Mom!" I said getting worried.
"I'm okay," she said and her hand appeared on the screen as she climbed back into the kitchen chair. "You just gave me quite a shock. I wasn't expecting that. Engaged?" she panted.

Sloane and Tammi ~ Micalea Smeltzer

In my world, Adam would like the shy girl who sits quietly in the corner and avoids the gossips and giggles; the girl who works solidly with her head down and her hair falling about her face. He'd like the girl who doesn't care much about make-up and clothes, and whose beauty shines through every time she smiles and laughs. He'd find her mysterious and fascinating. ~ Annalisa Crawford

Fine, go get the dildos."

"Oh, my God." Alec placed his hands on either side of his face. "This is the best day of my life."

Keela bit down on her lower lip. "What do you want me to do to them?"

His eyes welled up. "It's finally happening."

Bronagh covered her mouth with her hand when she couldn't control the giggle that erupted from her. Alec's attention zoned in on her and her mouth.

"You … you're playing … aren't you?" he whispered, legit tears falling from his eyes.

Keela laughed then, too.

"That was cruel, Aideen," Alec whispered and wiped his tear stained cheeks. "So fucking cruel. Don't ever talk to me again. I don't like any of you anymore."

He stormed out of the kitchen with Keela laughing as she ran after him. I looked to Kane and Nico when they grunted and found them staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

Nico blinked he eyes. "You shouldn't lie like that, not about threesomes. It's hurtful."

"It's only hurtful because this is one threesome that isn't comin' true and it's killin' all of you."

Kane chimed in. "That doesn't make it any less evil to lie about it. You got poor Alec's hopes up."

"Just Alec's?" I grinned.

Kane glared at me. "Mine and Dominic's too."

"Damn right," Nico snarled.

I laughed. "You're all too easy to play with."

"You made Alec cry."

And I actually felt gui ~ L.A. Casey

She loves being an American, but being an American overseas is quite a different thing. Edie was able to see herself, and her country, through other people's eyes - through the eyes of aid workers from Europe and Asia, through the eyes of the people they were trying to help. She knows that Americans are often viewed as arrogant and frivolous, clueless about their own country, and she hates that this is true. ~ Darien Gee

It has been more than twenty years since she lost her two daughters here, the one who was never given a name or a life, and her precious Usha. With thoughts of Usha comes the physical ache in her heart. There has not been a day since Usha's birth that Kavita has not thought of her, mourned her loss, and prayed for the hollow feelings of grief to melt away. But God has not listened. Or else he has not yet forgiven her. Because the heartache has endured. ~ Shilpi Somaya Gowda

And home was as squalid psychically as physically. Psychically, it was a rabbit hole, a midden, hot with the frictions of tightly packed life, reeking with emotion. What suffocating intimacies, what dangerous, insane, obscene relationships between the members of the family group! Maniacally, the mother brooded over her children (her children) … brooded over them like a cat over its kittens; but a cat that could talk, a cat that could say, "My baby, my baby," over and over again. "My baby, and oh, oh, at my breast, the little hands, the hunger, and that unspeakable agonizing pleasure! Till at last my baby sleeps, my baby sleeps with a bubble of white milk at the corner of his mouth. My little baby sleeps …"
"Yes," said Mustapha Mond, nodding his head, "you may well shudder. ~ Aldous Huxley

The beauty and magnitude of a diva's voice resides, so the iconography suggests, in her deformity. Her voice is beautiful because she herself is not-and her ugliness is interpreted as a sign of moral and social deviance. Reading biographies of divas, I can't ignore the repeated references to physical flaws-for example, Benedetta Pisaroni's "features horribly disfigured by small-pox," prompting spectators to shut their eyes "so as to hear without being condemned to see." Audiences speculated that Maria Malibran was not anatomically a woman, but an androgyne or hermaphrodite-an aberrant physique to match her voice's magic power. ~ Wayne Koestenbaum

She was already fierce. She required none of this nonsense, and if she'd carried a man's strength and her father's horsewhip these villains would as one be on their knees. ~ Gordon Dahlquist

Even if I hadn't a gag of magic in my mouth, I wouldn't have dared spoken.

Tristan peered at me as though I were a curious insect. "She isn't mute, is she? That would be dreadful." He leaned back against the chair, his strange eyes fixed on me. "On second thought, perhaps it wouldn't be dreadful at all. I hardly need another woman in my life telling me what to do, and it would mean I could do all the talking and she the listening."

"Perhaps our mistake was in not finding you a deaf one," Marc said. "And her name is Cécile de Troyes, which you very well know, so quit pretending otherwise."

"Thank you, cousin. It was on the tip of my tongue. Now Mademoiselle de Troyes, tell us your thoughts. Astound us with your wit."

"Mmmmm hmmmm," I mumbled around the gag.

"Could you repeat that?" he said, coming closer. "Afraid I didn't quite catch the punch line." A slender finger caught me under the chin, lifting my face. He frowned. "Release her, Aunty."

"She tried to run."

A noise of exasperation passed his lips. "To where? There is nowhere for her to go, nowhere to hide. Binding her is unnecessary."

His flippancy made my heart sink – the very idea of my escape was so improbable to him that it was little more than a jest.

I felt power brush over my skin, and I dropped to numb feet. If not for Marc taking hold of my arm, I'd have sprawled across the carpets in front of them all. ~ Danielle L. Jensen

The pained way she pinched her back legs to her front and flagged her tail, and her little arsehole apertured and bulged, and then she squinted like a philosopher when she eliminated. ~ Lauren Groff

I... I remember, she realized.
A feeling came over her, so strong that for the smallest of moments, it warmed her soul. Pictures flew through her mind: She and Elsa talking in their bedroom, baking with their mother in the kitchen, running down the central staircase. Do the magic! she heard a voice say, and now she realized it was her younger self begging Elsa to create more snow. Together they had skated around the Great Hall and made snow angels. They had built Olaf! She used to marvel at Elsa's magic and always wanted her sister to use it. Do the magic! she heard herself beg again, and then she saw the moment when everything changed. In her haste to stop Anna from falling off a snow mound, Elsa had accidentally struck her. That was when she and Elsa had been ripped apart.
She remembered everything! ~ Jen Calonita

No effort could convince her that women could engage in such activities without loosing their feminity. Games seemed especially unfit for women. ..She was often torn between her belief that Americans were above European style dissipation, and her fear it was only a matter of time before they would follow in Europe path....Both of them hostile to royalty and privileges of rank, flaunted their Americaness and refused to curry favor with people of rank. ~ Lynne Withey

The person you received word from," I said after a while. "You love one of them, don't you?"
Gauri started, a protest on the tip of her lips.
"I…," she began before weakly trailing off. She quickly regained composure and her eyes narrowed. "That's none of your concern."
You are my concern, I wanted to say. You are my sister. But I said nothing. I just let her words hang in the air.
"The best motivation is love," I offered.
Beside me, Kamala nodded vigorously. "And food!"
Gauri's eyes widened. Like a ghost of sound laid atop the other, I heard what Gauri did--a sort of mangled neighing.
"Your horse is rather strange."
Kamala nodded again. ~ Roshani Chokshi

Jae Smith is Nightwatch and I have her! Ha! I know where she lives, where she hangs out, and her blood type! Man, I am a dinkum stalker!"
Jeremy sat up, intrigued.
"What stalker site did you go on?" He asked wonderingly asJacob shoved clothes into a bag and grabbed a few protein bars from his dusty, sticky nightstand.
"Facebook. I have to get to San Francisco. ~ Amanda Lee Knauss

The only good thing, is that the cold wakes her up and she doesn't have to struggle to stay conscious. The bad thing, is that the numbness is fading away now, and her whole body is racked with pain. ~ Amy Lunderman

Now now," he said, setting his hand on her shoulder. He didn't even see her turn. One moment she had her back to him, and the next her face was in his. Tears streamed from narrow, red eyes, her nostrils flared, and her mouth was twisted in a vicious snarl. She could have bitten his nose off if she wanted to. ~ Matt Tomerlin

His kisses to her neck were growing hungry and her insides were heating up,but she managed to mutter a terse,I would rather eat my own eyeballs than sit at the table with those bastards. ~ Laura Wright

They'd fallen into an easy routine, the three of them. Breakfast together in the morning, then Hughie would leave for work and she and Nell would get started in the house. Lil found she liked having a second shadow, enjoyed showing Nell things, explaining how they worked and why. Nell was a big one for asking why-why did the sun hide at night, why didn't the fire flames leap out of the gate, why didn't the river get bored and run the other way?-and Lil loved supplying answers, watching as understanding dawned on Nell's little face. For the first time in her life, Lil felt useful, needed, whole. ~ Kate Morton

Forbes did, in fact, break new ground for women...She was an irrepressible and independent traveler who took risky and difficult trips, braved the hostility of the colonial officials and bureaucrats of the British empire, and invaded the male sphere of exploration, using charm, chutzpah--and her extensive network of establishment connections--to get where she wanted to go. (From the Sahara to Samarkand: Selected Travel Writings of Rosita Forbes, 1919-1937) ~ Margaret Bald

Most of the time I can tell when people are lying, and this must be a lie, because Tris is still alive, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed and her small body full of power and strenght, standing in a shaft of light in the atrium.
Tris is still alive, she wouldn't leave me here alone, she wouldn't go to the Weapons Lab instead of Caleb. ~ Veronica Roth

You should have called me immediately."
"No, she should have called me straight away. "I'm her Alpha, and her brother."
Marcus glanced at Nick curiously. "You say that like you're more important than me. I'm confused. ~ Suzanne Wright

She had a thick aura of battle around her, and her face was almost doll-like, it was so pleasant to look at. Vacant blue eyes, blond hair tinged dark gray. ~ Carlo Zen

We were pulling into the next station, when the woman suddenly got to her feet and made a move to squeeze past me. As her knees made contact with mine, she turned towards me. Her eyes locked straight onto mine, her eyelids pinned back, with a look I could only describe as sheer dread. In the next second, deep tram-lines formed between her eyebrows and her expression shifted. It was as if she was silently imploring me, entreating me. To do what? I had no idea. I was immobile, her gaze pressing me into my seat by some centrifugal force and I held her stare, unsure of how to react. Just as swiftly, she dropped her eyes and the moment passed. With one final glance behind her, she was swallowed up in the bodies at the door.
She was getting off. Something wasn't right. ~ A.J. Waines

When everything was laid out before her, she felt safe, loved even. She was always trying to be more organized than she was. She knew it was weird and blamed her mother, with the lists and
notes she'd leave whenever she and Dad went out of town. The labeled dinners in the freezer and the 20 emergency numbers on the phone showed she cared, even when absent, she cared. ~ Victoria Kahler

She turned, and saw a great white moon looking at her over the hill. And her breast opened to it, she was cleaved like a transparent jewel to its light. She stood filled with the full moon, offering herself. Her two breasts opened to make way for it, her body opened wide like a quivering anemone, a soft, dilated invitation touched by the moon. ~ D.H. Lawrence

She died a few days later, and her death buried once and for all the intrigues between the Precious Wife, the Gracious Wife, and all the Imperial favorites. Rivalries and alliances, loathing and attraction had been dissolved. Their existence had been a pointless tragedy, just as the talent of one prodigious poetess had been. ~ Shan Sa

She was not a lynx or a spider or even the Wraith. She was Inej Ghafa, and her future was waiting above. ~ Leigh Bardugo

The next day, when I came home from the library, there was a small, used red record player in my room. I found my mother in the kitchen and spotted a bandage taped to her arm.
"Ma," I asked. "Where did you get the money for the record player?"
"I had it saved," she lied.
My father lived well, had a large house and an expensive imported car, wanted for little, and gave nothing. My mother lived on welfare in a slum and sold her blood to the Red Cross to get me a record player.
"Education is everything, Johnny," she said, as she headed for the refrigerator to get me food. "You get smart like regular people and you don't have to live like this no more."
She and I were not hugging types, but I put my hand on her shoulder as she washed the dishes with her back to me and she said, in best Brooklynese, "So go and enjoy, already." My father always said I was my mother's son and I was proud of that. On her good days, she was a good and noble thing to be a part of.
That evening, I plugged in the red record player and placed it by the window. My mother and I took the kitchen chairs out to the porch and listened to Beethoven's Sixth Symphony from beginning to end, as we watched the oil-stained waters of the Mad River roll by. It was a good night, another good night, one of many that have blessed my life. ~ John William Tuohy

I'm getting thirstier every minute. If it didn't hurt you, it won't hurt me. If my papa was here, he'd let me have some."
"You're not going to tell him about it, are you?" said Jesse. His face had gone very pale under its sunburn. He stood up and put a bare foot firmly on the pile of pebbles. "I knew this would happen sooner or later. Now what am I going to do?"
As he said this, there was a crashing sound among the trees and a voice called, "Jesse?"
"Thank goodness!" said Jesse, blowing out his cheeks in relief. "Here comes Ma and Miles. They'll know what to do."
And sure enough, a big, comfortable-looking woman appeared, leading a fat old horse, and at her side was a young man almost as beautiful as Jesse. It was Mae Tuck with her other son, Jesse's older brother. And at once, when she saw the two of them, Jesse with his foot on the pile of pebbles and Winnie on her knees beside him, she seemed to understand. Her hand flew to her bosom, grasping at the old brooch that fastened her shawl, and her face went bleak. "Well, boys," she said, "here it is. The worst is happening at last. ~ Natalie Babbitt

She--the unnamed lady--simply drew his hands to the Paleolithic places men always have grown tumid from feeling, like the outward cradle of the hips within which a fetus will reside and her breasts that will nourish it, once born. ~ Edward Hoagland

Why couldn't she pick a nice, dark, quiet, deserted spot to do her evil machinations in?"
"Because she's an arrogant bitch and her main goal in life is to frustrate you before she kills you," Finn quipped. ~ Jennifer Estep

She resided in Rock Cove, Maine - or the Lobster Tundra, as she'd jokingly dubbed it - had no job, and lived off a meager supplemental income from the government. Every day since the move, she thanked Jesus and her mother for teaching her to hoard her money like an old woman hoarded cats. ~ Dakota Cassidy

The crowd as silent,holding their breaths.Hot wind rustled in the trees as the ax gleamed in the sun.Luce could feel that the end was coming,but why? Why had her soul dragged her here? What insight abouther past,or the curse, could she possibly gain from having her head cut off?
Then Daniel dropped the ax to the ground.
"What are you doing?" Luce asked.
Daniel didn't answer.He rolled back his shoulders, turned his face toward the sky, and flung out her arms. Zotz stepped forward to interfere,but when he touched Daniel's shoulder,he screamed and recoiled as if he'd been burned.
And then-
Daniel's white wings unfurled from his shoulders.As they extended fully from his sides,huge and shockingly bright against the parched brown landscape, they sent twenty Mayans hurtling backward.
Shouts rang out around the cenote:
"What is he?"
"The boy is winged!"
"He is a god! Sent to us by Chaat!"
Luce thrashed against the ropes binding her wrists and her ankles.She needed to run to Daniel.She tried to move toward him,until-
Until she couldn't move anymore.
Daniel's wings were so bright they were almost unbearable. Only, now it wasn't just Daniel's wings that were glowing. It was...all of him. His entire body shone.As if he'd swallowed the sun.
Music filled the air.No,not music, but a single harmonious chord.Deafening and unending,glorious and frightening.
Luce had heard it before...somewhere. In the cemetery at Sword&C ~ Lauren Kate

There is a story they tell, about a girl dared by her peers to venture to a local graveyard after dark. This was her folly: when they told her that standing on someone's grave at night would cause the inhabitant to reach up and pull her under, she scoffed. Scoffing is the first mistake a woman can make.

I will show you, she said.

Pride is the second mistake.

They gave her a knife to stick into the frosty earth, as a way of proving her presence and her theory.

She went to that graveyard. Some storytellers say that she picked the grave at random. I believe she selected a very old one, her choice tinged by self-doubt and the latent belief that if she were wrong, the intact muscle and flesh of a newly dead corpse would be more dangerous than one centuries gone.

She knelt on the grave and plunged the blade deep. As she stood to run she found she couldn't escape. Something was clutching at her clothes. She cried out and fell down.

When morning came, her friends arrived at the cemetery. They found her dead on the grave, the blade pinning the sturdy wool of her skirt to the ground. Dead of fright or exposure, would it matter when the parents arrived? She was not wrong, but it didn't matter any more. Afterwards, everyone believed that she had wished to die, even though she had died proving that she could live.

As it turns out, being right was the third, and worst, mistake. ~ Carmen Maria Machado

I would like to forget the image of the ship's crane at Southampton docks when it lifted into the sky the three wooden trunks which held all that my family owned. There is only one memory I want to preserve. It is Maria, who is also Zama, sipping condensed milk on the steps of the doep at night. The African nights were warm. The stars were bright. I loved Maria but I'm not sure she loved me back. Politics and poverty had separated her from her own children and she was exhausted by the white children in her care, by everyone and everything in her care. At the end of the day, away from the people who stole her life's energy and made her tired, she had found a place to rest, momentarily, from myths about her character and her purpose in life." (from "Things I Don't Want to Know" by Deborah Levy) ~ Deborah Levy