Inspirational quotes by Anne Bishop.
Some men die for lack of love…some die because of it. Think about it." - Daemon
People who entered the Courtyard without an invitation were just plain crazy! Wolves were big and scary and so fluffy, how could anyone resist hugging one just to feel all that fur?“Ignore the fluffy,” she muttered. “Remember the part about big and scary.
You weren't afraid of me when I was Wolf," he said. "Why are you afraid of Nathan?""He's got big feet!""What?"An insulted-sounding arrroooo came from the other side of the door, a reminder that Wolves also had big ears.
Do you always ask me the same questions you ask him?""It depends on whether or not I get an answer.
The Dimwit's Guide to the Female Mind might assist your efforts in understanding human females. But it must be pointed out that this subject can be a dangerous adventure and should be undertaken with extreme caution. After all, human males have been trying to understand their females for generations, and most of the time they come away from these encounters looking like someone stuck their tails into an electric socket.
She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.
The sweatshirt was big on her and she looked ridiculous. He liked it. And he liked that she was wearing something that carried his scent.
A woman with an education may be able to spend more time sitting in a chair instead of lying on her back. A sound advantage, I should think.
...you look the truth in the face - not the truth that has fangs and fur but the hard truth about yourself, that you're just as dangerous as the beings the rest of the people fear but you can't afford to be as honest about it. You can't tell those people that you'll make deals with what they fear in order to keep them sage from the monsters who look just like them.
We are what we are. Nothing more, nothing less. There is good and evil among every kind of people. It's the evil among us who rule now.
He gently kissed that scar and felt something changing inside him - just a flutter of change, there and gone, but leaving its mark.
The courtyard kept changing, dazzling her with the flowers that bloomed between one day and the next, with the bare branches of trees that were swollen with the buds of new leaves and then fuzzed with green. Every day, she drove a familiar road through a new place.
We know how it ends practically before it starts. That's why stories appeal to us. They give us the clarity and simplicity our real lives lack.
Perhaps not willingly, but pain can make a man do things he wouldn't willingly do.
Lucivar winced. "She guzzled half the flask — and it wasn't one of his home brews, it was the concoction you created."Jaenelle’s eyes widened. “You let her drink a ‘gravedigger’?”“No no no,” Wilhelmina said, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t ever drink a gravedigger until he’s had a bath.” She smiled placidly when Jaenelle and Lucivar just stared at her.“Mother Night,” Lucivar muttered.“Do you know that song?” Wilhelmina asked Jaenelle.
Daemon clung to Surreal as she flew along the Winds, too weak to argue, too spent to care. His heart, however... His heart held on fiercely to Jaenelle's soft, sighing caress of his name.Everything has a price.
She was the most painful, most glorious dance of his life
*I don't want the body,* she whimpered. *It hurts.**Not always, sweetheart. Not always. Without the body, how will you hear a bird's song? How will you feel a warm summer rain on your skin? How will you taste nutcakes? How will you walk on a beach at sunset and feel the sand and surf under your... hooves?*
Why?"He stopped pacing and looked at her as if she'd just asked him to count every leaf on every tree in the Old Place. "Because... you're you.
Not fault of teaching spider if little spider pay more attention to catching fly than doing lesson.
Frustration fills his golden eyes. "What Queen? Who is coming?""The living myth," I whisper. "Dreams made flesh."His shock is replaced instantly by a fierce hunger. "You're sure?"The room is a swirling mist. He's the only thing still in sharp focus. He's the only thing I need. "I saw her in the tangled web, Daemon. I saw her.
It was Jaenelle's voice, but...She was medium height, slender, and fair-skinned. Her gold mane--not quite hair and not quite fur--was brushed up and back from her exotic face and didn't hide the delicately pointed ears. In the center of her forehead was a tiny, spiral horn. A narrow strip of gold fur traced her spine, ending in a small gold and white fawn tail that flicked over her bare buttocks. The legs were human and shapely, but changed below the calf. Instead of feet, she had dainty horse's hooves. Her human hands had sheathed claws like a cat's. As she shifted position to slip another shard into place, he saw the small, round breasts, the feminine curve of waist and hips, the dark-gold triangle of hair between her legs.Who...?But he knew. Even before she walked over and looked at him, even before he saw the feral intelligence in those ancient, haunted sapphire eyes, he knew. Terrifying and beautiful. Human and Other. Gentle and violent. Innocent and wise.*I am Witch,* she said, a small, defiant quiver in her voice.*I know.* His voice had a seductive throb in it, a hunger he couldn't control or mask.
For now, he and Meg were going to have the adventure of seeing a new place and having a new experience. Together.He wasn't human. Would never be human. And Meg didn't expect him to be. But feeling her hand in his, Simon thought maybe he could learn to be human enough.
Enjoy your Evening.""That will depend on the menu. If it's beef, it will be a tolerable meal. If it's chicken..." Elliot shuddered. "What is the point of chicken?""Eggs?
Everything has a price.
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