“Knowledge is power is time is money.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“Life is not about living the safer option. Life is about living a life worth living.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“I would prefer a sword to fight duel, but a pen to plan a war.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“Chains of gold are still chains.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“Marriage is supposed to be a union between two equals who love and support each other, not a master-slave relationship in which the man commands a docile woman.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“Only stupid men would want stupid wives!”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“A man.
A really manly man with a lot of mannishness in his manliness.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“And worse, far worse – he wasn't just kissing me. He was making me like it! And he was somehow, by some nefarious chauvinistic manly trick managing to make me kiss him back!”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“His blue-green eyes were dark pools of immeasurable depth, pools you could drown yourself in and never again come up for air.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“Ships are my arrows, the sea my bow, the world my target.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“His lips reached mine and enveloped them, soft as velvet and yet unyielding.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“Hard. That was what he looked like. That was what you first noticed about him: a hard, chiselled face, like that that of some ancient Greek statue.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“You expect me to come and work for you dressed up as a man?” I gasped.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“His silent, stony face was only inches away now. He was so near, so terribly near – and then he moved to close the last bit of distance.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“It is your choice,” he said, so close to me that our lips were almost touching. “Either do what I say—or get another job.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“Then don't you dare tell me my dreams are insane! Because my dreams are what I live for!”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“She turned the doorknob and pushed - but the door wouldn’t budge. ‘Lillian? Lillian, don't tell me this door is bolted!’
‘That’s fine,’ I answered in as light a tone as I could manage while frantically unbuttoning Uncle Bufford’s
waistcoat. ‘I won’t tell you, I promise.’
‘Don’t get smart with me, young lady! Is
this door bolted?’
‘You just asked me not to tell you that. So I can’t, even though technically it actually might be true.’
‘Lillian!”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“knowledge is power is time is money”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“I instantly and absolutely mistrusted him. I
disliked all men as a matter of principle, but handsome men, especially ones with a strong chin and overbearing manner, were at the top of my ‘things to exterminate to make this world a better place’-list. This particular specimen of manhood in front of me looked like just the kind of fellow who might have come up with the
brute force argument.”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
“Life is not about living the safer option,’ I told him sleepily. ‘Life is about living a life worth living.’ ‘You”
― Robert Thier, quote from Storm and Silence
Robert Thier
Born place: in Germany
Born date August 13, 1988
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“But it did seem that the thing we are most proud of and the thing we are most ashamed of are but the front and back of the same coin.”
― Natsuo Kirino, quote from Grotesque
“Зелените ми очи са бездънни и празни и аз се питам дали е възможно човек да се променя отвътре навън, дали тъгата може да се излъчва през вените, органите и кожата, така че всички да я виждат.”
― Michelle Zink, quote from Prophecy of the Sisters
“He glared down at her. “Yes. But you must not cry. I won’t get you any dresses if you cry.”
“I don’t normally cry.”
“You will never do it.”
“Well, I’m afraid I may sometimes,” she said apologetically. “Women need to cry.”
Lines formed between his brows. “How many times in a year?”“Maybe five or six,” she said, thinking about it. “But really, it’s usually a very small cry and not in front of anyone
At that, his scowl grew even darker. “I will permit you to cry four times a year. And you will do it when I am here.”
― Nalini Singh, quote from Lord of the Abyss
“Serial killers ruin families,’ shrugged Bob. ‘Corporate and political and religious psychopaths ruin economies. They ruin societies.”
― Jon Ronson, quote from The Psychopath Test: A Journey Through the Madness Industry
“Ohhhhh."
A lush-bodied girl in the prime of her physical beauty. In an ivory georgette-crepe sundress with a halter top that gathers her breasts up in soft undulating folds of the fabric. She's standing with bare legs apart on a New York subway grating. Her blond head is thrown rapturously back as an updraft lifts her full, flaring skirt, exposing white cotton panties. White cotton! The ivory-crepe sundress is floating and filmy as magic. The dress is magic. Without the dress the girl would be female meat, raw and exposed.
She's not thinking such a thought! Not her.
She's an American girl healthy and clean as a Band-Aid. She's never had a soiled or a sulky thought. She's never had a melancholy thought. She's never had a savage thought. She's never had a desperate thought. She's never had an un-American thought. In the papery-thin sundress she's a nurse with tender hands. A nurse with luscious mouth. Sturdy thighs, bountiful breasts, tiny folds of baby fat at her armpits. She's laughing and squealing like a four year-old as another updraft lifts her skirt. Dimpled knees, a dancer's strong legs. This husky healthy girl. The shoulders, arms, breasts belong to a fully mature woman but the face is a girl's face. Shivering in New York City mid-summer as subway steam lifts her skirt like a lover's quickened breath.
"Oh! Ohhhhh."
It's nighttime in Manhattan, Lexington Avenue at 51st Street. Yet the white-white lights exude the heat of midday. The goddess of love has been standing like this, legs apart, in spike-heeled white sandals so steep and so tight they've permanently disfigured her smallest toes, for hours. She's been squealing and laughing, her mouth aches. There's a gathering pool of darkness at the back of her head like tarry water. Her scalp and her pubis burn from the morning's peroxide applications. The Girl with No Name. The glaring-white lights focus upon her, upon her alone, blond squealing, blond laughter, blond Venus, blond insomnia, blond smooth-shaven legs apart and blond hands fluttering in a futile effort to keep her skirt from lifting to reveal white cotton American-girl panties and the shadow, just the shadow, of the bleached crotch.
"Ohhhhhh."
Now she's hugging herself beneath her big bountiful breasts. Her eyelids fluttering. Between the legs, you can trust she's clean. She's not a dirty girl, nothing foreign or exotic. She's an American slash in the flesh. That emptiness. Guaranteed. She's been scooped out, drained clean, no scar tissue to interfere with your pleasure, and no odor. Especially no odor. The Girl with No Name, the girl with no memory. She has not lived long and she will not live long.”
― Joyce Carol Oates, quote from Blonde
Residence on Earth
A Map of the Known W...
Sleep, Pale Sister
Beyond the Chocolate...
As Meat Loves Salt
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