“If this were a fairy tale, I'd be my own damned knight.”
“Sometimes doing the immoral thing is the moral thing to do. I would lie and cheat and steal to protect the ones I love.”
“Sam, his warrior. He would die before he put her fire out.”
“Sam’s lingering stares agitated him, eliciting a thickness in his chest that felt suspiciously like feelings. Tristan didn’t do feelings.”
“You best have dagger hidden underneath those skirts.”
Sam patted the small lump on the right side of her hip,the bulge on her left,and then felt for a ridge by her ankles.
She had three.”
“Braeden was a noble, self-sacrificing idiot, but he was her idiot.”
“He didn’t have time for an existential crisis, not right now.”
“their long snouts. “There’s no plan?” “Don’t die,” Tristan said, and with a yell, sprinted into the throng of demons.”
“Braeden?” she called again tentatively. Braeden turned to her and smiled, a feral grin that spoke of cruelty to come. Sam swallowed. She was as good as dead.”
“We’ve an early start to the morning, and I’ve a feeling if I stayed with you, we wouldn’t be doing much sleeping,”
“suspiciously like feelings. Tristan didn’t do feelings.”
“I’s afraid of no one, ’cept maybe the Paladins and me mam.”
“She bit into a piece of heavily buttered bread, her eyes fluttering closed as the golden, flaky crust melted in her mouth. Pure heaven. Tristan was staring at her. “What?” she asked. “Your expression . . .” he said, pink tingeing his cheeks. “Never mind. Ah, here’s Braeden.”
“Her answer would kill Braeden quicker than any poison. He shut his eyes, and when he opened them again, his face was a controlled mask. He turned from the curtain, walked down the room past the five rows of beds, and nodded politely at Addie. As soon as he was outside of the infirmary, he ran.”
“I hate everything that moves without legs. It isn't natural, I tell you.”
“If Sam were the sort of girl prone to fainting, she would have fainted right there on the spot. But as things currently stood, she wasn’t supposed to be a girl, so fainting wasn’t even an option.”
“His free hand shot out to steady her. “Are you all right?” he asked. His voice was full of concern, but his dancing blue eyes betrayed his amusement. Her skin heated”
“She lowered her eyes, then peeked at Tristan through her spidery lashes. “Though I would be ’appy to share me own chambers wiv you, love.”
“Everyone who’s ever been jealous because it’s my face in the magazines and not theirs. Every person who can’t believe or accept that someone can reach my level of success without being a total prick. Trust me, it’s not the lies that hurt people. It’s the willingness of everyone else to believe them. And then there are those who come out of the woodwork to back your accuser because it gives them the spotlight for three seconds. They can’t stand the fact that you’ve risen above your past and that they have no excuse for never rising above theirs. In their minds, you need to be taken down a notch and they need to be raised a few, off the lies they tell about you. Because in the end, they know you, they’ve seen the real you, and by backing your accusers, they make other people think that maybe they were close to you – at least that’s what they claim. It’s a sick world and I’m disgusted with it. (Aiden)”
“Fascinating to watch the reactions of people suddenly seized by fear. Some can’t take it. They let themselves go to a point of hysteria, then in panic flee to—God knows where. Most take it, with various degrees of courage and coolness. In the lobby tonight: the newspapermen milling around trying to get telephone calls through the one lone operator. Jews excitedly trying to book on the last plane or train. The wildest rumours coming in with every new person that steps through the revolving door from outside, all of us gathering around to listen, believing or disbelieving according to our feelings.”
“I'm an open Minded Man. How about a threesom? You, me and the machine?”
“Katie James kept waking up. It was nothing unusual; it was just how she was. A noise here, an internal thought there, a nightmare that seemed so real she could touch it, kept hammering away. She finally rose, got some water and settled in an armchair, flicked on a reading light, and picked up the latest Lee Child thriller.”
“Si uno se pone a pensar sobre ello, la meta última de la vida humana es algo que carece de importancia, es como un enjambre de abejas. Si uno lo deja estar acabada lamentándolo, pero si lo coges los insectos te picarán, por lo que es preferible dejarlo estar y observarlo sin tocarlo.”
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