“What are you lying about now, devil,” she rasped, coughing when the blood filled up her throat again. Dark fury flashed in his eyes and iron fingers dug into her jaw. She screamed and writhed, fighting to escape the point of metal filling her vision. She screamed as he pressed it into her eye, drilling through her eyeball. She clenched her fists and jolted under the straps, her body going into spams of agony. “How”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Desecrating Solomon 3
“Or what, you’ll be a dad and beat my ass? You gave that job up to Uncle Joe, remember?” “Alright,” Uncle Joe snapped at them while anger bubbled in his veins and his dad folded up paper and headed out the room. “That’s it, leave,” Solomon yelled as the door slammed. “You’re a real pro at that!” His uncle jabbed a finger at the door. “And he deserved that, he had that one coming for a long time,” he muttered and nodded like he was fighting guilt. “Not that I minded or regretted a single day of beating your ass,” he said. “But you nailed that hammer on the head.” His”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Desecrating Solomon 3
“She raised her gaze when his body faced her and began toward her. By the time her eyes made it to his face, it was descending on hers and his mouth was ravishing with a hot kiss. “I saw that,” he whispered. She”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Desecrating Solomon 3
“Even as Solomon tried to understand how he got that, his dad looked at him in the dim flicker of light. “They cut his tongue out,” he barely whispered to him. “We need to go.” Jimmy”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Desecrating Solomon 3
“Mary?” The sound of a grunt came from the far corner, jolting fear through him. It wasn’t feminine. “Damn,” his uncle said from across the room. “What the hell is this? We need light.” Solomon’s breaths blasted as hurried along the wall to where she kept the lantern above the fireplace. Putting his gun on the ledge, he located the matches. “Jesus,” his uncle whispered. “Don’t put on a light!” The match hissed and flared and Solomon turned just as his father flew at him and blew it out. “Something’s happened here,” his dad barely said even as Solomon stared into the returning darkness. His eyes were wide with the horror of what he’d seen in those few seconds before the light vanished. Blood. So much blood. “Christ,”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Desecrating Solomon 3
“Garlum?” “It’s a special demonic toxin that lets you feel the pain but not… express it,” he explained. “Very hellish, really. But it’s all on the inside,” he whispered. “Allows for a little peace and quiet for the worker-bees.” They”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Desecrating Solomon 3
Lucian Bane
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“Oh, goodie. Let the bloodbath commence. (Zarek)”
― Sherrilyn Kenyon, quote from Kiss of the Night
“For what is love itself, for the one we love best? - an enfolding of immeasurable cares which yet are better than any joys outside our love.”
― George Eliot, quote from Daniel Deronda
“Christmas crept into Pine Cove like a creeping Christmas thing: dragging garland, ribbon, and sleigh bells, oozing eggnog, reeking of pine, and threatening festive doom like a cold sore under the mistletoe.”
― Christopher Moore, quote from The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror
“And, though there should be a world of difference between the smile of a man and the bared fangs of a wolf, with Joss Merlyn they were one and the same.”
― Daphne du Maurier, quote from Jamaica Inn
“Ged issò la vela. Tutto aveva l'aria di essere stato usato a lungo, faticosamente, sebbene la vela rossocupa fosse rattoppata con grande cura e la barca fosse pulita e ben tenuta. erano come il loro padrone: erano andate lontano, e la vita non le aveva trattate con dolcezza.
— Ora — disse Ged, — ora siamo partiti, ora siamo liberi, siamo andati, Tenar. Lo senti anche tu?
Lei lo sentiva. Una mano tenebrosa aveva allentato la stretta che aveva serrato il suo cuore per tutta la vita. Ma non provava più gioia, come l'aveva provata invece tra le montagne. Abbassò la testa tra le braccia e pianse, e le sue guance erano umide e salmastre. Piangeva per lo spreco dei suoi anni, asserviti a un male inutile. Piangeva di dolore, perché era libera.
Aveva incominciato ad apprendere il peso della libertà. La libertà è un fardello oneroso, un grande e strano fardello per lo spirito che se l'addossa. Non è agevole. Non è un dono ma una scelta, e la scelta può essere dura. La strada sale, verso la luce: ma il viandante oberato può anche non raggiungerla mai.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin, quote from The Tombs of Atuan
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