Like most people raised on American movies, I have poor access to my emotions, but can banter like a motherfucker.
I buried her on the shore," he whispered as Fireheart padded up and sat down beside him. "She loved the river." He raised his head to where the first stars of Silverpelt were beginning to appear. "She hunts with StarClan now," he mewed softly. "Someday I'll find her again, and we'll be together.
Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark.
I love you Rush Finlay. You are going to be the best husband and father the world has ever known. One day our son’s wife will be thankful that her husband will have had you for a role model. She’ll be lucky because of you. Because you will have raised our son to be the man that you are. He’ll love her completely because he’ll know how.
As Kylie buried her head on the camp leader's shoulder, she heard Burnett scold, "I thought I told you to wait at the camp." Kylie felt Holiday tense at the reprimand, and then she raised her head. "And I thought you knew I don't follow anyone's orders." "Does anyone listen to me around here?" Burnett asked, his frustration making his tone sound almost comical. "Obviously not," one of the FRU agents said, and chuckled.
I'd been raised by my parents to believe barfing your feelings on other people was the height of impoliteness.
Clearing his throat, Kai murmured, "You have no idea how to dance, do you?" Cinder fixed her gaze on him, mind still reeling. "I'm a mechanic." His eyebrows raised mockingly. "Believe me, I noticed. Are those grease stains on the gloves I gave you?
Will you still want me if I'm poor, Kat?" "What kind of question is that?" "No. Seriously. You're the planner. Simon's the genius. The Bagshaws are the muscle. And Gabrielle is . . . Gabrielle. But what am I, Kat? I'm the guy who writes the checks." "No. You're the most naturally gifted inside man I have ever seen. And I was raised by Bobby Bishop." She made him look into her eyes. "I don't care about your money.
Dear Dad, When you sent me to school that morning, I thought you loved me. But now I see you for what you are. You called me a monster and a freak. But you’re the one that raised me.
Ezra clapped his hands. "all right," he said. "In addition to the books we're reading as a class, I want to do an extra side project on unreliable narrators." Devon Arliss raised her hand. "what does that mean?" Ezra strode around the room. "well, the narrator tells us the story in the book, right? But what if... the narrator isn't telling us the truth? Maybe he's telling us his skewed version of the story to get you on his side. Or to scare you. Or maybe he's crazy!
[Caine] "Interesting. Me, I've always wanted to know who my real parents were." [Sam] "Let me guess: you're secretly a wizard who was raised by muggles.
I never lie- except for the few times I do in fact lie, but it's never intentional, and i'm totally telling the truth right now" She raised her right hand "promise".
Clary smiled at him with a warmth she didn’t feel. “Sebastian says I can come with you.” Jace raised his eyebrows. “Matching haircuts for everyone?” “I hope not,” said Sebastian. “I look terrible with curls.
I think you’re freaked about what happened at Cambridge. I think it scared you." “I’ve been through worse, Bex,” I said, joining her on the lower stairs. “Way worse.” “Oh, not the attack.” Bex raised her finger in contradiction. “What happened before the attack. I think you saw the future. Which is kind of freaky when - two months ago - you didn’t think you were going to have one.
Cath ran her fingers along the cover, over the raised gold type. Then someone else ran right into her, pushing the book into Cath's chest. Pushing two books into her chest. Cath looked up just as Wren threw an arm around her. "They're both crying," Cath heard Reagan say. "I can't even watch." Cath freed an arm to wrap around her sister. "I can't believe it's really over," she whispered. Wren held her tight and shook her head. She really was crying, too. "Don't be so melodramatic, Cath," Wren laughed hoarsely. "It's never over... It's Simon.
She's a Texan, born and raised. Football is in our blood.
I wonder what kinds of songs Preston's father sang to him." Zach raised his eyebrows. "I wonder if he's in a cell humming them to himself right now." I should have said something-done something. He was in a dark place, there in the moonlight. But before I could say a word, Zach took a deep breath and looked up at the fortress. "I wonder if I should join him.
The giant raised his fist, and a voice cut through the dream. "Leo!" Jason was shaking his shoulder. "Hey, man, why are you hugging Nike?" Leo's eyes fluttered open. His arms were wrapped around the human-sized statue in Athena's hand. He must have been thrashing in his sleep. He clung to the victory goddess like he used to cling to his pillow when he had nightmares as a kid. (Man, that had been so embarrassing in the foster homes.) He disentangled himself and sat up, rubbing his face. "Nothing," he muttered. "we were just cuddling. Um, what's going on?
Ash should take the ladies, because he's charming." Ash looked pleased. Jared raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying that I'm not a charmer?" "You are very dear to me, but you have all the savoir faire of a wildebeest," Kami told him. "A wildebeest," Jared repeated. "A dashingly handsome wildebeest," Kami assured him.
When once the mind has raised itself to grasp and to delight in excellence, those who love most will be found to love most wisely.
In the midst of creating, a person is raised to another level of consciousness that doesn't have that much to do with everyday thinking. It's as if you could imagine life before there were words.
Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.
Modern tourist guides have helped raised tourist expectations. And they have provided the natives- from Kaiser Wilhelm down to the villagers of Chichacestenango - with a detailed and itemized list of what is expected of them and when. These are the up-to-date scripts for actors on the tourists' stage.
But remember that intent is everything. One does not just jump, one lifts into the air, one rises. In the same way the lifted leg of an arabesque becomes a wing, and not a mechanical leverage like a raised trap door. This is the precise difference between dancing and acrobatics. The dancer tries to express something; the acrobat merely pulls, raises, stretches and grinds. The acrobat is lost in a web of muscles the dancer is all but invisible in projected idea.
No one's ever asked to see my birth certificate, they know that this is the place that we were born and raised.
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