“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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“Cabs, cabs! Why did God give you feet? Walk me to Fiftieth.”
― Herman Wouk, quote from The Caine Mutiny
“P.J. said, "That's true about any statement we make, isn't it? We never tell as much as we know."
"Right! So We're lying. So almost every statement is a lie, we can't help it."
"Yeah. But some statements are more lies than others.”
― Joyce Carol Oates, quote from We Were the Mulvaneys
“The Shepherd laughed too. “I love doing preposterous things,” he replied. “Why, I don’t know anything more exhilarating and delightful than turning weakness into strength, and fear into faith, and that which has been marred into perfection. If there is one thing more than mother which I should enjoy doing at this moment it is turning a jellyfish into a mountain goat. That is my special work,” he added with the light of a great joy in his face. “Transforming things —to take Much-Afraid, for instance, and to transform her into—“ He broke off and then went on laughingly. “Well, we shall see later on what she finds herself transformed into.”
― Hannah Hurnard, quote from Hinds' Feet on High Places
“He sees passion in her gray eyes, and it scares him as all passion scares him, his own included.”
― John le Carré, quote from The Constant Gardener
“in until ten, not even on Mardi Gras nights. No one except the girl in the black silk dress, the thin little girl with the short, soft dark hair that fell in a curtain across her eyes. Christian always wanted to brush it away from her face, to feel it trickle through his fingers like rain. Tonight, as usual, she slipped in at nine-thirty and looked around for the friends who were never there. The wind blew the French Quarter in behind her, the night air rippling warm down Chartres Street as it slipped away toward the river, smelling of spice and fried oysters and whiskey and the dust of ancient bones stolen and violated.”
― Poppy Z. Brite, quote from Lost Souls
Edenbrooke
Relic
Savvy
Bird Box
East
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