She was tough in the best sense of the word. She’d taken blows, the disappointments, and had worked her way through them. Some people, he knew, would have buckled under, found a clutch, or given up. But she had carved a place for herself and made it work.
Why couldn’t the merciful God turn down the sunlight so it wasn’t blasting like a red furnace against his aching eyes? Because he’d worshipped the god of beer, thats why. He’d broken a commandment and worshipped the false and foamy god of beer. And now he was being punished.
What if there’s a fire?” Glenna said sweetly, and Cian merely smiled. “Then I guess you’d better open a window, and fly.
Not enough.” Margo rose and tucked the towel in place. ” Come on, let’s go stuff her in a locker. For old time’s sake.
I want you more than I should,” she heard herself say. “I have you less than I want.
Why do I find it irresistible when you tell me to go to hell so politely?
Life – you have to live it as it comes.
After hell comes heaven.
It was bad enough to be swallowed up by the intrinsic anger of New York City traffic and its seemingly mad competition between cars, cabs, the ubiquitous delivery trucks, the kamikaze bike messengers and the always-in-a-damn hurry pedestrians.
Fictional people are people, too, otherwise why would we care what happens to them?
Bright light. You’ve always found your way.
And tis’ my faith that every flower enjoys the air it breathes.
It wasn’t like a date, she reasoned. Not like some weird double date with her and the brother of the dead guy and her best friend and her best friend’s ex-husband who didn’t really count. It was just eating.
Love isn’t a prize given on merit, or something to be taken back when there’s a mistake. It’s a gift, as much for the giver as the one who’s given it. The day you’ll take it, hold it, you won’t be afraid.
It’s better to see and know you’re a fool than to keep your eyes shut and keep acting like one.
Intellectually, she knew no one really died of a broken heart. Emotionally, she suspected some could.
She could hold him close now, touch as she was touched. Taste as she was tasted. The pleasure filled her – the glide of his hands, the heat of his lips, the catch of his breath as they rolled together to find more.
I’ve got something for you inside me, Anna.” He forgot his hands were grimy and laid them on her shoulders. “I haven’t used it up yet. This thing with you, it’s one of the first times I haven’t wanted to rush to the finish line.
The socializing hadn’t been so bad, he acknowledged, and he couldn’t say he minded the food, though a man would do better with a good beef sandwich. Still it was plentiful, even if you did have to pick your way through half of it to get to something recognizable.
Feelings need to be expressed, Hope. They aren’t always understood the way people like to assume.