Wha Quotes

I suspect, however, that the thing that confuses you about Ian is that he's half Scot. In many ways he's more Scot than English, which accounts for what you're calling a ruthless streak. He'll do what he pleases, when he pleases, and the devil fly with the consequences. He always has. He doesn't care what anyone thinks of him or of what he does."
Pausing, Jordan glanced meaningfully at the couple who'd paused to look at a shrubbery on the front lawn. Ian was listening to Elizabeth intently, an expression of tenderness on his rugged face. "The other night, however, he cared very much what people thought of your lovely friend. In fact, I don't like to think what he might have done had anyone actually dared to openly insult her in front of him. You're right when you aren't deceived by Ian's civilized veneer. Beneath that he's a Scot, and he has a temper to go with it, though he usually keeps it in check."
"I don't think you're reassuring me," Alex said shakily.
"I should be. He's committed himself completely to her. That commitment is so deep that he even reconciled with his grandfather and then appeared with him in public, which I know was because of Elizabeth."
"What on earth makes you think that?"
"For one thing, when I saw Ian at the Blackmore he had no plans for the evening until he discovered what Elizabeth was going to do at the Willingtons'. The next I knew, he was walking into that ball with his grandfather at his side. And that, my love, is wha ~ Judith McNaught

We don't take photographs with our cameras, we take them with our hearts and our minds. They are a reflection of ourselves ... wha t we are and what we think. ~ Arnold Newman

Right now he needed to concentrate on keeping himself under control. Inside, his gut churned. There was a war going on. The joy of holding his son again clashed with the waves of anger that rose higher and higher with each passing moment. He thought he had known why Pete had arrived at the farm. He had pushed the fork into the soil and watched the earth turn over sure that the truth of their tragedy was about to be laid before them. He had watched the dry earth give up the rich brown soil and wanted to stay there forever in the cold garden just watching his fork move the earth. He had not wanted to hear what Pete had to say. And now this..this..What did you call this? A miracle? What else could it be? But this miracle was tainted. He was not holding the same boy he had taken to the Easter Show.
This thin child with shaved hair was not the Lockie he knew. Someone had taken that child. They had taken his child and he could feel by the weight of him they had starved him. Someone had done this to him. They had done this and god knew what else. Doug walked slowly into the house, trying to find the right way to break the news to Sarah.
She was lying down in the bedroom again. These days she spent more time there than anywhere else. Doug walked slowly through the house to the main bedroom at the back. It was the only room in the house whose curtains were permanently closed.
How damaged was his child? Would he ever be the same boy they had taken up to the Show ? Wha ~ Nicole Trope

Wha--huh? You've made a mistake? You? Wait... The world isn't ending. Big Ben's Infinity Day Clock has stopped. You can't have made a mistake. It's simply not... possible. It's a day just like any other day. - Evaline, to Mina ~ Colleen Gleason

Nonfiction-wha t the hell, that just says, this is nongrapefruit we're having this morning. ~ John McPhee

Wha ... what are you smiling for ... ? If I'd swallowed that needle, I'd have died! It's not like putting tabasco in ohagi!!! ~ Ryukishi07

After you back it up, then stop;
Then wha-wha-what, drop drop it like it's hot! ~ Juvenile

Georgina, I need your help'
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out two pages torn from magazines.
'With wha-oh' My stomach twisted uncomfotably, and I hoped I wouldn't be joining Doug in the bathroom. The pages showed photos of wedding dresses. ~ Richelle Mead

The bottle was almost empty when Miriam slid to the floor in a boneless heap. Startled,she pushed herself up and leaned back against the oven door. "You done mind If I shit, do you?" she asked.
Willow blinked, then giggled. "Course not."
"Oh,go-o-od." Miriam stretched her legs out in front of her, paying scant attention to the cotton twill skirts hiked up to her knees.
"Are you all right, Miriam?"
"Course,dear. Never felt so so-o-o good. It's just a little warm in here, that's all. Perhaps anudder cup of tha' cool wine 'll help."
Willow, who was also feeling a bit too warm, agreed and divided what was left of the wine between them. "I think we've had nuff practice, Miri, Miri..." She belched and giggled.
Miriam took another drink, slapped her thigh, and shook her finger at the girl. "It snaut nice to belch," she slurred. "Not ladylike 'tall."
"Know what I think, Miri-um?"
"No,wha'?"
"Nothing's ladylike."
"Thas right!" Miriam agreed, slapping her thigh again. "And thas why I always say, don't cuss. Nobody really gives a tinker's damn but it zounds like hell! ~ Charlotte McPherren

I wanted literature to assuage human loneliness, but nothing can assuage human loneliness. Literature doesn't lie about this
which is wha makes it essential. ~ David Shields

What the fuck happened to you last night? I wake up this morning, and you're gone and you…you just leave and don't say goodbye? Why?"

"I'm sorry. I - ,"

"You're sorry? I've been going crazy! You don't answer your phone, you sneak out and, wha - why? I thought we finally had everything figured out! ~ Jamie McGuire

If you're going to give me the third degree," she tells him, "let's get it over with. Best to withhold food or water; water is probably best. I'll get thirsty before I get hungry."
He shakes his head in disbelief. "Do you really think I'm like that? Why would you think that?"
"I was taken by force, and you're keeping me here against my will," she says, leaning across the table toward him. She considers spitting in his face, but decides to save that gesture as punctuation for a more appropriate moment. "Imprisonment is still imprisonment, no matter how many layers of cotton you wrap it in." That makes him lean farther away, and she knows she's pushed a button. She remembers seeing those pictures of him back when he was all over the news, wrapped in cotton and kept in a bombproof cell.
"I really don't get you," he says, a bit of anger in his voice this time. "We saved your life. You could at least be a little grateful."
"You have robbed me, and everyone here, of their purpose. That's not salvation, that's damnation."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
Now it's her turn to get angry. "Yes, you're sorry I feel that way, everyone's sorry I feel that way. Are you going to keep this up until I don't feel that way anymore?"
He stands up suddenly, pushing his chair back, and paces, fern leaves brushing his clothes. She knows she's gotten to him. He seems like he's about to storm out, but instead takes a deep breath and turns back to her.
"I know wha ~ Neal Shusterman

I will conclude this work with stating in what light religion appears to me.
If we suppose a large family of children, who, on any particular day, or particular circumstance, made it a custom to present to their parents some token of their affection and gratitude, each of them would make a different offering, and most probably in a different manner. Some would pay their congratulations in themes of verse and prose, by some little devices, as their genius dictated, or according to what they thought would please; and, perhaps, the least of all, not able to do any of those things, would ramble into the garden, or the field, and gather what it thought the prettiest flower it could find, though, perhaps, it might be but a simple weed. The parent would be more gratified by such a variety, than if the whole of them had acted on a concerted plan, and each had made exactly the same offering. This would have the cold appearance of contrivance, or the harsh one of control. But of all unwelcome things, nothing could more afflict the parent than to know, that the whole of them had afterwards gotten together by the ears, boys and girls, fighting, scratching, reviling, and abusing each other about which was the best or the worst present.
Why may we not suppose, that the great Father of all is pleased with variety of devotion; and that the greatest offence we can act, is that by which we seek to torment and render each other miserable? For my own part, I am fully satisfied that wha ~ Thomas Paine

What is evil?' you ask.
To which I reply, 'Who are you, Friedrich Nietzsche?'
To which you respond, 'Duh, wha? Me no understand.'
Then I put you back in your cage. ~ Josh Lieb

Hello?"
"You should check the curtains before you take a bath, princess,"a deep, mocking voice says.
"Wha-" I half scream, half yelp as I sit bolt upright in the bath ...
... "Priceless,"he howls, still laughing. You never fail to amuse, princess. ~ Tera Lynn Childs

There were moments bristling with deadness, when she looked out at her life and went, "What?" Or worse, feeling interrupted and tired, "Wha - ? ~ Lorrie Moore

Alan, as per his usual routine, got up early and peeked into my rom to check on me. What he found were his teenage stepdaughter and her childhood sweetheart curled up in the same bed, sound asleep and draped all over each other. He hissed my name, alarmed: "Jenna!"
"Wha-?" I sat straight up, immediately aware of what was happening and how it all looked. I clambered over Cameron, who was just coming to consciousness, and followed Alan into the kitchen.
"It's nothing, I swear," I said in a whisper. If Mom wasn't up yet, I wanted to keep it that way.
Alan shook his head. "It looks bad." He glanced toward my bedroom. "Was that Ethan? Tell him to come out here. I want to talk to him."
"Um, it's not Ethan. It's Cameron."
He put his hands to his head. "Jenna. Jenna."
"I know. Is Mom awake?"
"Not yet."
I kept my voice low. "Can we talk by the fish tank?"
He led, I followed.
"He came to my window in the night," I explained. "He needed to talk. I let him in. It was me. It was my idea. It was all...nothing happened."
"This isn't my area," Alan said, looking at the fish. "Your mom is supposed to do the tough stuff. We have a policy of laissez-faire when it comes to me and...this kind of thing."
"Exactly. So," I said hopefully, "go make the coffee and we'll pretend nothing every happened."
Cameron came into the room, his blanket wrapped around him. His hair was sticking up in the back, and his long eyelashes hooded sleepy e ~ Sara Zarr

Evolution endowed us with intuition only for those aspects of physics that had survival value for our distant ancestors, such as the parabolic orbits of flying rocks (explaining our penchant for baseball). A cavewoman thinking too hard about what matter is ultimately made of might fail to notice the tiger sneaking up behind and get cleaned right out of the gene pool. Darwin's theory thus makes the testable prediction that whenever we use technology to glimpse reality beyond the human scale, our evolved intuition should break down. We've repeatedly tested this prediction, and the results overwhelmingly support Darwin. At high speeds, Einstein realized that time slows down, and curmudgeons on the Swedish Nobel committee found this so weird that they refused to give him the Nobel Prize for his relativity theory. At low temperatures, liquid helium can flow upward. At high temperatures, colliding particles change identity; to me, an electron colliding with a positron and turning into a Z-boson feels about as intuitive as two colliding cars turning into a cruise ship. On microscopic scales, particles schizophrenically appear in two places at once, leading to the quantum conundrums mentioned above. On astronomically large scales… weirdness strikes again: if you intuitively understand all aspects of black holes [then you] should immediately put down this book and publish your findings before someone scoops you on the Nobel Prize for quantum gravity… [also,] the leading theory for wha ~ Max Tegmark

Wha - what was that?" Heather lifted a brow. "What was that 'hey bro, make sure the blond chick doesn't cut any body parts off' look? Because I'll have you know, I'm an expert with butcher knives."
Tristan pointed at the weapon in Heather's hand. "That's a machete."
Puckering her lips, Heather looked at the blade. "Aren't they the same thing?"
"I'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that. Everybody ready? ~ Chelsea Fine

He leaned forward to inspect her closer. "Is that all hair?"
... Sudden, overwhelming panic clawed up Cress's throat. With a squeak, she ducked out of view of the camera and scrambled beneath the desk. Her back struck the wall with a thud that rattled her teeth. She crouched there, skin burning hot and pulse thundering as she took in the room before her - the room that he was now seeing too, with the rumpled bedcovers and the mustached man on all the screens telling her to grab her imaginary partner and swing them around.
"Wha - where'd she go?" Thorne's voice came to her through the screen.
"Honestly, Thorne." A girl. Linh Cinder? "Do you ever think before you speak?"
"What? What did I say?"
" 'Is that all hair?' "
"Did you see it? It was like a cross between a magpie nest and ball of yarn after it's been mauled by a cheetah."
A beat. Then, "A cheetah?"
"It was the first big cat that came to mind. ~ Marissa Meyer

Something presses on a part of the brain and makes people say all kinds of nasty things. You know it's just part of the sickness, but still, it hurts. Wha do you expect? Here I am, working my fingers to the bone for them, and they're saying all this terrible stuff to me. ~ Haruki Murakami

Norbert?" Charlie laughed. "The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now."
"Wha
Norbert's a girl?"
"Oh yeah," said Charlie.
"How can you tell?" asked Hermoine.
"They're a lot more vicious," said Charlie. ~ J.K. Rowling

The guys were totally skuzzy, grinning horribly, showing holes where teeth should be.
"Boys, God doesn't like you," Fang intoned behind them.
Whaaat? I thought, dumbfounded.
"Wha!" they said, whirling.
At that moment, Fang snapped out his huge wings and shone the penlight under his chin so it raked his cheekbones and eyes. My mouth dropped open. He looked like the angel of death.
His dark wings filled the hallway almost to the ceiling, and he moved them up and down. "God doesn't like bad people," he said, using a really weird, deep voice.
"What the heck?" one of the squatters murmured shallowly, his mouth slack, his eyes bugging out of his head.
I whipped my own wings open. Fun, anyway.
"This was a test," I said, using my best spooky voice. "And guess what? You both failed."
The bums stopped dead, looks of horror and amazement on their faces.
Then Fang growled, "Rowr!" He stepped forward, sweeping his wings up and down: the avenging demon. I almost cracked up.
"Rowr!" I said myself, shaking my wings out.
"Ahhhhh!" the guys yelled, backpedaling fast. Unfortunately, they were standing at the top of the staircase. They fell awkwardly, trying to grab each other, and rolled down two flights like lumpy bags of potatoes, shrieking the whole way.
Fang and I slapped each other a quick high five - and we were out of there, jack. ~ James Patterson

You love it right?" Lassiter asked, holding his Bible high. "I mean, you told me to go on the internet. I did. I even printed out my diploma or whatever the hell it's called." Opening the cover of the King James version, he took out a piece of paper and waved it around. "See? Nice and legal-like" Beth leaned in "Wow". "I know right? Just like Harvard" "Impressive" "I'm totally framing that shit, wha-what. ~ J.R. Ward

Professor McGonagall, the Headmaster set fire to a chicken!"
"He wha- ~ Eliezer Yudkowsky

In the interests of friendship, I hope you'll forgive me what I'm about to do."
"Forgive you wha - "
My sentence was cut off as he clamped his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply.

...

"Ready to make a scene?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Do I have a choice?"
"Not really. To quote something someone said to me recently, in the interests of friendship, I hope you'll forgive what I'm about to do." I drew back my hand and slapped him across the face. The smack of flesh striking flesh echoed through the hall. Conversations stopped as people whipped around to stare at us. Raising my voice to something just below a shout, I snarled, "You asshole! ~ Seanan McGuire

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! Now 's the day and now 's the hour; See the front o' battle lour. ~ Robert Burns

She reminds me of a turtle; you can never quite know wha ta turtle is thinking. ~ Jaycee Dugard

And there has been no attempt to investigate it,' I said, 'to see what it really is?'

'Eh, Cornel,' said the coachman's wife, 'wha would investigate, as ye call it, a thing that nobody believes in? Ye would be the laughing-stock of a' the country-side, as my man says.'

'But you believe in it,' I said, turning upon her hastily. The woman was taken by surprise. She made a step backward out of my way.

'Lord, Cornel, how ye frichten a body! Me! there's awful strange things in this world. An unlearned person doesna ken what to think. But the minister and the gentry they just laugh in your face. Inquire into the thing that is not! Na, na, we just let it be.' ("The Open Door") ~ Mrs. Oliphant

Cole!" Cassandra smacked him on the shoulder.
"Wha-?" When he opened his mouth all you could see was half-chewed goo.
"How old are you?" I demanded. I threw shrimp at him and it got stuck in his tangle of wig hair. Bergman fished it out, wiped it off, and put it back on the serving dish.
"Now, thats disgusting," said Cassandra.
"Children!" Vayl's voice boomed in our ears, loud and sudden enough to make us all jump guiltily. "I trust you are all preforming actual work right now."
"Chill out, Vayl," I replied. "Bergman is just conducting and experiment to see how vampires respond to ingesting brown hair dye."
"That makes me curious, Vayl," said Cole in a sticky, goodie-between-the-gums voice that reminded me of Winnie the Pooh after a major honey binge. "Have you ever colored your hair? You know blonds have more fun."
"Not when they are in the hospital. ~ Jennifer Rardin

How's Norbert doin'?"
Norbert?" Charlie laughed. "The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now."
Wha - Norbert's a girl? ~ J.K. Rowling

That great portion of what is generally received as Christian truth is, in its rudiments or in its separate parts, to be found in heathen philosophies and religions. For instance, the doctrine of a Trinity is found both in the East and in the West; so is the ceremony of washing; so is the rite of sacrifice. The doctrine of the Divine Word is Platonic; the doctrine of the Incarnation is Indian; of a divine kingdom is Judaic; of Angels and demons is Magian; the connection of sin with the body is Gnostic; celibacy is known to Bonze and Talapoin; a sacerdotal order is Egyptian; the idea of a new birth is Chinese and Eleusinian; belief in sacramental virtue is Pythagorean; and honours to the dead are a polytheism. Such is the general nature of the fact before us; Mr. Milman argues from it, - 'These things are in heathenism, therefore they are not Christian:' we, on the contrary, prefer to say, 'these things are in Christianity, therefore they are not heathen.' That is, we prefer to say, and we think that Scripture bears us out in saying, that from the beginning the Moral Governor of the world has scattered the seeds of truth far and wide over its extent; that these have variously taken root, and grown up as in the wilderness, wild plants indeed but living; and hence that, as the inferior animals have tokens of an immaterial principle in them, yet have not souls, so the philosophies and religions of men have their life in certain true ideas, though they are not directly divine. Wha ~ John Henry Newman

Wha Is That At My Bower-Door
1783

Wha is that at my bower-door?
O wha is it but Findlay!
Then gae your gate, ye'se nae be here:
Indeed maun I, quo' Findlay;
What mak' ye, sae like a thief?
O come and see, quo' Findlay;
Before the morn ye'll work mischief:
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

Gif I rise and let you in-
Let me in, quo' Findlay;
Ye'll keep me waukin wi' your din;"
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay;
In my bower if ye should stay-
Let me stay, quo' Findlay;
I fear ye'll bide till break o' day;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
Here this night if ye remain-
I'll remain, quo' Findlay;
I dread ye'll learn the gate again;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
What may pass within this bower-
Let it pass, quo' Findlay;
Ye maun conceal till your last hour:
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay. ~ Robert Burns

She'd poked my arm. "How was the bathroom?"
I poked her back. "An adventure to check off my bucket list. I sailed the golden seas and cleansed myself in the Greek sinks. I'm quite proud."
A line marred her forehead. "You keep getting a little bit weirder the longer school goes on, you know?"
I shrugged. "It's like crack cocaine."
"Wha - never mind ~ Tijan

- Brother Jimmy, said Joey the Lips. - I'm worried. - About Dean.

- Wha' abou' Dean?

- He told me he's been listening to jazz.

- What's wrong with tha'? Jimmy wanted to know.

- Everything, said Joey the Lips. - Jazz is the antithesis of soul.

- I beg your fuckin' pardon!

- I'll go along with Joey there, said Mickah.

- See, said Joey the Lips. - Soul is the people's music. Ordinary people making music for ordinary people. - Simple music. Any Brother can play it. The Motown sound, it's simple. Thump-thump-thump-thump. - That's straight time. Thump-thump-thump-thump. - See? Soul is democratic, Jimmy. Anyone with a bin lid can play it. - It's the people's music.

- Yeh don't need anny honours in your Inter to play soul, isn't tha' wha' you're gettin' at, Joey?

- That's right, brother Michael.

- Mickah.

- Brother Mickah. That's right. You don't need a doctorate to be a doctor of soul.

- Nice one.

- An' what's wrong with jazz? Jimmy asked.

- Intellectual music, said Joey the Lips. - It's anti-people music. It's abstract.

- It's cold an' emotionless, amn't I righ'? said Mickah.

- You are. - It's got no soul. It is sound for the sake of sound. It has no meaning. - It's musical wanking, Brother.

- Musical wankin', said Mickah. - That's good.

- Here, yeh could play tha' at t ~ Roddy Doyle

Billy's Adam's apple bobbed. "Don't-" The knife at his throat cut him short.
Black Tom cocked a thick brow. "Don't, wha? Hurt your littl' toffer?" Rotted teeth flashed. "She mean that much ta ye, then?"
Bill licked his lips quickly. His skin took on a grayish hue as sweat seeded over his high brow. "Don't piss 'er off," he managed. ~ Kristen Callihan

It is very pious to say and prudent to affirm that the holy Bible can never speak untruth
whenever its true meaning is understood. But I believe nobody will deny that it is often very abstruse, and may say things which are quite different from wha. ~ Galileo Galilei

Ichigo: You got that? Huh?! I'm the rescuer, so you just SHUT UP!!
Rukia: Wha
wha'd you say? A rescuer isn't supposed to ignore the rescuee!
Ichigo: Yeah? And what kind of rescuee complains about the rescue!? Why don't you go sit in a corner and tremble in fear and cry out "Save me! Save me!" like you're supposed to?!
Rukia: I do not need saving, and I do NOT tremble! ~ Tite Kubo

I do not belive that Washington should do for the people wha they can do for themselves through local and private effort. ~ John F. Kennedy

What do you see?" asked Ned, his voice hushed.
"I see ... I see ... an elephant."
"Elephant," Lord Blakely repeated, as he transcribed her
words. "I hope that isn't the extent of your prediction.
Unless, Ned, you plan to marry into the genus Loxodonta."
Ned blinked. "Loxo-wha?"
"Comprised, among others, of pachyderms. ~ Courtney Milan

Willow gazed up at him, her silly grin still in place. "You know wha'? You're kinda cute when you crook your eyebrows down like tha'."
Rider muttered a curse, lifted her off the floor, and tossed her over his shoulder. "Juan, you and Hicks help Mrs. Brigham to her room. I'll take care of this little hellion."
Willow lifted her head from where she dangled over Rider's shoulder. "See yuh later, Mrs. B."
Miriam smiled and waved.
"i think Mrs. B is pickled," Rider's passenger said in a loud whisper as he hauled her out the door.
"No thanks to you,hellion," he growled, and smacked her bottom.
"Ow!"
As he carried Willow into the house, Rider was hard pressed to quell a sudden urge to laugh. In her bedroom, he unceremoniously dumped her on her bed, but when he turned to leave, her pitiful sounding voice halted his exit. "Rider,come here a min-it."
"Oh,hell, I suppose you're going to be sick." Grabbing a basin off her dresser, he shoved it under her chin. "It serves you right, you know." He watched nervously as she knocked the bowl aside.
"Dun...don't be mad." She held her arms out to him. "Come closer. Gimme a kiss and we'll make up. I like your kisses so-o-o-o much."
This time Rider couldn't stall his grin and inadvertently leaned closer.
She was on him like a duck on a June bug. With two hearty handfuls of his shirt, she yanked him down on top of her and plastered her mouth against his.
Talking against his lips, the tipsy ~ Charlotte McPherren

Yes, Phebe was herself now, and it showed in the change that came over her at the first note of music. No longer shy and silent, no longer the image of a handsome girl, but a blooming woman, alive and full of the eloquence her art gave her, as she laid her hands softly together, fixed her eye on the light, and just poured out her song as simply and joyfully as the lark does soaring toward the sun.
"My faith, Alec! that's the sort of voice that wins a man's heart out of his breast!" exclaimed Uncle Mac, wiping his eyes after one of the plaintive ballads that never grow old.
"So it would!" answered Dr. Alec, delightedly.
"So it has," added Archie to himself; and he was right: for just at that moment he fell in love with Phebe. He actually did, and could fix the time almost to a second: for at a quarter past nine, he thought merely thought her a very charming young person; at twenty minutes past, he considered her the loveliest woman he ever beheld; at five and twenty minutes past, she was an angel singing his soul away; and at half after nine he was a lost man, floating over a delicious sea to that temporary heaven on earth where lovers usually land after the first rapturous plunge.
If anyone had mentioned this astonishing fact, nobody would have believed it; nevertheless, it was quite true: and sober, business-like Archie suddenly discovered a fund of romance at the bottom of his hitherto well-conducted heart that amazed him. He was not quite clear wha ~ Louisa May Alcott

Truth be known, I found it right flatterin'. And, it gives me the confidence tah ask ya out for Saturday."
My head snapped up and my cheeks burned. "Wha...?!" Picture of eloquence. That's me.
"Saturday. A date. You, me, dinner? Yah've heard of this concept, yeah? ~ Stacey Rourke

He raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get this? Is our Anne Boleyn suddenly from Mars?" He chuckled. "I always thought she hailed from Wiltshire."
Luce's mind raced to catch up. She was playing Anne Boleyn? She'd never read this play, but Daniel's costume suggested he was playing the king, Henry VIII.
"Mr. Shakespeare-ah,Will-thought it would look good-"
"Oh,Will did?" Daniel smirked, bot believing her at all but seeming not to care. It was strange to feel that she could do or say almost anything and Daniel would still find it charming. "You're a little bit mad, aren't you, Lucinda?"
"I-well-"
He brushed her cheek with the back of his finger. "I adore you."
"I adore you,too." The words tumbled from her mouth,feeling so real and so true after the last few stammering lies. It was like letting out a long-held breath. "I've been thinking, thinking a lot,and I wanted to tell you that-that-"
"Yes?"
"The truth is that what I feel for you is...deeper than adoration." She pressed her hands over his heart. "I trust you. I trust your love. I know how strong it is,and how beautiful." Luce knew that she couldn't come right out and say what she really meant-she was supposed to be a different version of herself,and the other times,when Daniel had figured out who she was, where she'd come from,he'd clammed up immediately and told her to leave. But maybe if she chose her words carefully, Daniel would understand. "It may seem like sometimes I-I forgot wha ~ Lauren Kate

Wha-what?" Her eyes fluttered open.
"Nothing," I shouted. "We're being followed by a slaying machine. Go back to sleep. ~ Rick Riordan