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She nodded... and was about to turn away. Then, as if she thought better of it, she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Jack."
"Yes?"
"I. . ." she faltered. She knew what she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words.
It turned out she didn't have to. Jack put a hand to his heart and nodded. "I feel the same way about you.
Everything begins with chioce.
S.J. WardellTags: crime-fiction london fiction-writing serial-killer crime-thriller the-ultimate-selection
An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools.
Ernest HemingwayTags: drinking
It wasn't that we didn't know history. Even if you only count the real world, we knew more history than most people. We'd been taught about cavemen and Normans and Tudors. We knew about Greeks and Romans. We knew masses of personal stories about World War II. We even knew quite a lot of family history. It just didn't connect to the landscape. And it was the landscape that formed us, that made us who we were as we grew in it, that affected everything. We thought we were living in a fantasy landscape when actually we were living in a science fictional one. In ignorance, we played our way through what the elves and giants had left us, taking the fairies' possession for ownership. I named the dramroads after places in The Lord of the Rings when I should have recognized that they were from The Chrysalids.
Jo WaltonI'm tired of holding onto the past, tired of my memories taking me back there, and I know you are too.
Trish AndersonWhen I saw you, I saw love. When I saw you naked, I saw lust. When I saw you with my clone in a dream, I saw the future.
Jarod KintzFor when Philippe, with his snapping eyes and his wild ways, left Savannah forever, he took with him the glow that was in Ellen's heart and left for the bandy-legged little Irishman who married her only a gentle shell.
Margaret MitchellSometimes you have to realise that things will never change if you don’t make a change yourself, and sometimes, you need to realise that it only happened so that you could learn something.
Charlotte ErikssonTags: motivational inspirational change self-growth realisation
Just another part of that Spartan killer instinct. I can slay the ladies just as well as I can reapers.
Jennifer EstepLee has surveillance on Fortnum’s, cameras and bugs, twenty-four seven. He put it in when I was going through my drama and never took it out. The boys at the office watch for security purposes and… um, for kicks.” I stared at her.
“You’re joking,” I breathed.
To be a serious writer requires discipline that is iron fisted. It’s sitting down and doing it whether you think you have it in you or not. Everyday. Alone. Without interruption. Contrary to what most people think, there is no glamour to writing. In fact, it’s heartbreak most of the time. --Harper Lee
Charles J. ShieldsSo, I guess that's what happens, when you fall in love with that perfect someone you just never want to fall out, because they treat you right, you know, like they give you kisses and they remind you of how beautiful you are, and how sweet you make them feel, and they do all kinds of things just to see you smile.
Abraham M. AlghanemTags: love beautiful falling-in-love
What about Cher and Suzanne?" I called after him.
"I don't know, but if you end up kissing them, call me. I wanna watch.
Have you forgotten yet?...
For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:
And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow
Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you're a man reprieved to go,
Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.
But the past is just the same--and War's a bloody game...
Have you forgotten yet?...
Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget.
Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz
The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?
Do you remember the rats; and the stench
Of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench--
And dawn coming, dirty-white, and chill with a hopeless rain?
Do you ever stop and ask, 'Is it all going to happen again?'
Do you remember that hour of din before the attack--
And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you then
As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?
Do you remember the stretcher-cases lurching back
With dying eyes and lolling heads--those ashen-grey
Masks of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?
Have you forgotten yet?...
Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you'll never forget.
Tags: simons-rock
Let us never underestimate the power of a well-written letter.
Karen Joy FowlerTags: jane-austen-book-club kathy-baker
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