It was the kind of library he had only read about in books.
I know you think that I have some kind of perfect, unyielding self-control, but that's not actually the case. - Edward Cullen
It's just as easy to be lonely in a city as out in the wilderness. Easier, really. It's harder to get to know someone when you meet in a crowded place. People can freely ignore you in the city; they can assume they don't have any responsibility for you. When there are fewer people, (...) they begin assuming some kind of responsibility, simply because you naturally do the same.
It was kind of soothing, these sounds of lives being lived all around me, for better or for worse. And there I was, in the middle of them all, newly reborn and still waiting for mine to begin.
Ye ken, we've been robbin' and running aroound on all kinds o' worlds for a lang time, and I'll tell ye this: The universe is a lot more comp-li-cated than it looks from the ooutside.
Beyond the window, some kind of small, black thing shot across the sky. A bird, possibly. Or it might have been someone's soul being blown to the far side of the world.
I’ve had reports of this one being in the city, but no close-up pictures till now. He’s some kind of pretty. I could just take a bite out of that firm—
I think Illium can take care of himself.” “Not if he keeps flirting with you.” A fine, almost elegant tendril of heat, champagne and sunshine, decadence in the light. “Raphael’s not the sharing kind.
If I ever fall in love again, I would like it if it were a slightly cold guy. Someone who won't constantly mind about my childish needs but who, the day after the quarrel, for example would offer me a flower accompanied by a sweet note That's kind of guy I need.
While Dmitri, as the leader of Raphael’s Seven, could not accept such a weakness, the mortal he’d once been, the one who had loved a woman with a wide mouth and eyes of slanted brown . . . that man understood what it was to love so deeply it was a kind of beautiful madness.
I wished there was some kind of switch on my brain. That I could turn it off in the same way that I could turn off the television. Just click it off and immediately empty my mind of all these images and worrying thoughts. And simply leave a blank screen. Or if I could just remove my head and put it on the bedside table and forget about it until morning. And then attach it again when I needed it.
I just laid around in my bed, looking at the ceiling, and i smiled because it was a nice kind of quiet.
In his or her own way, everyone I saw before me looked happy. Whether they were really happy or just looked it, I couldn't tell. But they did look happy on this pleasant early afternoon in late September, and because of that I felt a kind of loneliness new to me, as if I were the only one here who was not truly part of the scene.
Like the way the sun is right now, with the long shadows, and that kind of bright, soft light you get when the sun isn't quite setting? That's the light that makes everything better, everything prettier, and today, everything just seemed to be in that light.
[W]hen Ben was kissing me, the whole world retreated. I felt things I'd never felt before, in places I never knew were connected. But I was pretty sure that whatever was buzzing against my thigh was not normal. For one thing, it was ringing. Ben dragged his mouth away from mine and mumbled a curse that was a little shocking and kind of hot. "Ignore it," he said. That was easy for him to say when his cell phone was rounding third base. If anyone got a home run tonight, I didn't want it to be Verizon Wireless.
For a moment I can't help thinking how decent he is - that there's some hope for him beyond the obnoxious image he displays. Maybe deep down he is a sensitive guy, who sees us as real people with real issues. I want to say something nice. Some kind of thanks. I stand there, rehearsing it in my mind. "Oh my God," he says, "did you see that girl's tits?" Maybe not today.
When one watches some tired hack on the platform mechanically repeating the familiar phrases - bestial atrocities, iron heel, blood-stained tyranny, free peoples of the world, stand shoulder to shoulder - one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy, the appropriate noises are coming out of his larynx, but his brain is not involved
He seems so.. English sometimes, kind of distant or reserved, but then he'll look at me, and his eyes see right through to my soul.
It's good when food tastes good, it's kind of like proof you're alive.
You're kidding," Shane said. "Do you think I want to visit Crazy McTeeth in his lair of insanity?" "No," Claire said, "but I'm pretty sure you won't like it if I go alone when I just kind of promised to be with you. So...?" "Right. I've been missing Nutty McFang anyway." "Stop making up names for him." "What about Count Crackula?" "Just stop.
Cartooning is preaching. And I think we have a right to do some preaching. I hate shallow humor. I hate shallow religious humor, I hate shallow sports humor, I hate shallowness of any kind.
.. As far as they're conserned, I've been kind of a poor second best all my life, or I don't qualify at all compared to my brother. It's rough being around them and feeling like you never measure up." Collin
I love you.' 'Yeah, well...' 'You make my heart want to beat.' 'That's nice and creepy. But I'm with Fletcher.(...) Also, these proclamations of your undying love for me are getting kind of... it's a bit much to be honest. Just hold back a little.' 'But my love for you is eternal.' 'That's exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about.
Do you have feelings for this kind man?" "You shouldn't ask her such a question," Frances Catherine said. "But do you, Gillian?
I know this is insane, but i somehow wish i had been in auschwitz with my parents so i could really know what they lived through! I guess it's some kind of guilt about having had an easier life than they did.
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