“She smiled at him as they waited for their dessert, her chin poised on her clasped hands.
'You're being very silent.'
'That's how men cry.”
― John Fowles, quote from Daniel Martin
“We think we grow old, we grow wise and more tolerant; we just grow more lazy.”
― John Fowles, quote from Daniel Martin
“[об американцах]
— Я понимаю, они — туристы, не отличающиеся очень уж развитым воображением. Вспоминаю, как училась там в школе. Ребята там казались мне гораздо более открытыми, по крайней мере в том, что касалось личных пристрастий. Всегда рассказывали, что чувствуют.
— Да дело вовсе не в том, что они об этом не рассказывают.
— А в том, что недостаточно чувствуют?
— Да и не в этом тоже. Недостаточно знают. Не позволяют себе много знать. Как с этим Грамши, о котором ты говорила. — Он помолчал и добавил: — Всё всегда делают по правилам.
Джейн помолчала немного.
— Питер писал о чём-то вроде этого в одном из писем. Как вначале тебе нравится их прямота… а потом начинаешь тосковать по извивам.
— Я испытал то же самое. Прозрачность — прекрасная вещь. Пока не начинаешь понимать, что она основана не столько на внутренней честности, сколько на отсутствии воображения. И эта их так называемая откровенность по поводу секса. Они просто не понимают, что утратили.”
― John Fowles, quote from Daniel Martin
“Страшна не сама смерть, не смертная боль от ножей жатки, не вопль, не окровавленные обрубки ног… но то, что так легко умереть, уйти из жизни прежде, чем снова созреет пшеница.”
― John Fowles, quote from Daniel Martin
“Perhaps twenty minutes later he realized she had gone to sleep. He quietly removed his now stiff arm, then turned away. It must have woken her a little After a moment he felt her turn as well and lay a hand, instinctively, like a sleeping wife, across his hips; as if, in some dream, he was the one who escaped.”
― John Fowles, quote from Daniel Martin
“Cel care creează nu-l poate iubi pe cel care critică. Există o diferență prea mare între cele două activități. Una este naștere, cealaltă chirurgie.”
― John Fowles, quote from Daniel Martin
“Mikhail pushed a hand through his thick mane of hair. “Our people cannot do without you, Gregori, and quite simply, neither can I.”
“You are so certain that I will not turn?” Gregori’s smile was self-mocking. “Your faith in me exceeds my own. This vampire is ruthless, drunk on his own power. He craves the killing, the destruction. I walk the line of that madness every day. His power is nothing, a feather in the wind compared to mine. I have no heart, and my soul is dark. I do not want to wait until I cannot make my own choice. The one thing I do not want is to force you to seek me out to destroy me. My life has been my belief in you, in protecting you. I will not wait until I must be hunted.”
Mikhail waved a tired hand to open the earth above his brother. “You are our greatest healer, the greatest asset to our people.”
“That is why they whisper my name in fear and dread.”
Beneath their feet the ground suddenly shook, heaved and bucked, rolling perilously. The center of the earthquake was obviously a great distance away, but there was no mistaking the howl of rage produced by a powerful vampire at the destruction of his lair.
The undead had entered his lair confidently, until he found the body of the first wolf. Each turn or passage entrance was marked with one of his minions, until his entire pack lay dead at his feet. The burned bodies of his sentinels, the bats, lay in a mound of blackened ashes. Fear turned to terror. It would not be Mikhail, whose sense of justice and fair play would be his downfall, but the dark one. Gregori— the most feared of all Carpathians.
It had not occurred to the vampire that the dark one might take a hand in this game. Andre hurtled himself from the safety of his favorite lair just as the mountain heaved and the chamber walls collapsed in on themselves. Cracks widened in the narrow passageway, and the rock faces inched closer and closer together. The clap of granite grinding against granite nearly burst his eardrums.
A true vampire making numerous kills was far more susceptible to the sun, and to the terrible lethargy that claimed Carpathian bodies in the day. Andre had little time to find a safe hole. As he burst from the collapsing mountain, the sun hit his body, and he screamed with the agony of it. Dust and rock spewed from his home, and the echo of Gregori’s taunting laughter drifted down with the debris from the earthquake.
“No, Gregori.” There was amusement in Mikhail’s soft voice as he floated into the soothing arms of the earth. “That is a good example of why they whisper your name in fear and dread. No one understands your dark humor the way I do.”
― Christine Feehan, quote from Dark Prince
“Music, such music, is a sufficient gift. Why ask for happiness; why hope not to grieve? It is enough, it is to be blessed enough, to live from day to day and to hear such music-not too much, or the soul could not sustain it-from time to time.”
― Vikram Seth, quote from An Equal Music
“I’d rather shit on my hands and clap.”
― Belle Aurora, quote from Friend-Zoned
“I didn’t want to be prideful anymore. I wanted to be as hard as and brittle as the stones I carted into the woods. Stones that could not feel or cry or see. I wished not to feel anything at all.
In no time, what I wished for, I became.”
― Alice Hoffman, quote from Green Angel
“Who do you think keeps this country safe so you can sleep at night?”
“I don’t sleep most nights. And to be honest, Your Grace, I don’t feel all that safe.”
― Kady Cross, quote from The Girl in the Steel Corset
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