“The world is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think.”
“Republics never survive, for their people do not like freedom but prefer to be led and guided and flattered and seduced into slavery by a benevolent, or not so, benevolent despot. They want to worship Caesar. So, American republicanism will inevitably die and become a democracy, and then decline, as Aristotle said into a despotism.”
“Mankind adores its betrayers, and murders its saviors.”
“When you are young you believe the world is all yours, glorious and exhilarating and fascinating and full of promise and trumpets and drums and marches and new worlds,” said Charles. “We don’t ask ourselves what we are living for then. We know. But we forget, later, or it all seems a foolish dream.”
“money came from human misery and death and despair, as always it does.”
“Forests, hills, mountains, rivers, and green streams had no protection in the face of rapacity.”
“Profits. Joe, if you want to use just one word”—and Mr. Healey wagged a huge finger at Joseph—“to describe wars and the making of wars, it’s profits. Nothing else. Profits.”
“Very good; then here we have it—'4 June, total eclipse of the moon commences at 8.15 Greenwich time, visible in Teneriffe—South Africa, &c.' There's a sign for you. Tell them we will darken the moon to-morrow night.”
“You make me miserable. You really do, I want you to know that. Much as I love you, much as I need you, much as I can't exist without you, you make me miserable.”
“My dog, Pugsy, was hit by a car,”
“Is kissing me so bad, then, lass?”
“It’s not the kissing that’s bad …” Her words were lost in a soft moan as she tipped her head back for more kisses.
“What’s bad, my heart?” Hawk nipped her neck, gently.
“Oooh! … you!”
“Me? I’m bad?” He wouldn’t let her answer for a long moment while he nibbled at her lower lip, teased it, sucked it into his mouth, then slowly released it.
Adrienne drew a shaky breath. “Well … I mean … you are a man …”
“Yes,” he encouraged.
“And very beautiful at that….”
“Mmm … yes?”
“And I hate beautiful men….” Her hands moved over his shoulders, his broad muscled back, and tapered down over his tight waist to his muscular buttocks. She was shocked at her own daring, thrilled by the groan of pleasure she coaxed from him.
“I can tell. Hate me just like that, lass. Hate me like that again. Hate me all you need to hate me.”
“Does Hallmark make a “Sorry I tried to drink your blood and touched you in a vaguely inappropriate manner” card? I settled for “How much do you remember?”
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