When are you going to stop being annoyed.
When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly’s done, When the battle’s lost and won.
Do you think I’ll let it go, that I’ll hide from it because you, who’s anything but a coward, is afraid of what ifs?
They had their feast, a happy family group, roasted wild pheasant seasoned with tarragon, stuffed with oranges, apples, shallots, and sage, cooked on a bed of carrots and potatoes, tomatoes. Peas and good brown bread from the oven, farm butter. Good friends, old friends.
I’m good at figuring out how things work, but I don’t know how this happened.
Love’s not a faulty toaster. You can’t take it apart and study the pieces, replace a part and figure out how it all fits back together. You just feel it.
He hated this feeling of free-floating, just drifting from place to place, thought to thought, without any sense of anchor or root.
I’m a mild disappointment to them, which is worse somehow than being a serious disappointment. So I’m working hard not to be any kind of disappointment to myself.” She.
She’d learned not to hurry – had taught herself not to push, not to rush, but to take things as they came. And in a very real way to embrace every single moment.
Anyone who has loved has been touched by magic.
Don’t let anything stop you from going where you need to go, from doing what you need to do. Make your mark on the world, and make it deep so it lasts.
His eyes were anything but friendly, the color of bitter storms.
When a woman had eyes that big, that brown, that beautiful, she probably got whatever she wanted without saying a word.
Look, pal, he who goes to the store buys what he damn well pleases. That’s a new rule around here.
You’ve good speed and agility, and endurance enough. But you’ve no killer in the blood, and so you’ll always be bested.” Iona rubbed her butt. “I never planned on killing anyone.” “Plans change,” Branna pointed out. “Fix those flowers now, as it’s your rump that crushed them.
We’ll be okay. Luck’s starting to move in our direction.
It’s not a matter of jealousy. It’s a matter of courtesy.
Then again, she reminded herself, if she wanted Nick to take her seriously as a woman, she had to take herself seriously first.
When you’ve had less than little in some things, you’re grateful for even a spoonful of more.
However weary he might be of life after three centuries of it, he was more weary of witnessing death.