Aria Sky Quotes

His hand snapped shut over the device and then he crossed his arms. Aria stared in horror. Her Smarteye was buried in a Neanderthal’s armpit.

In the sounds of the night Aria heard footsteps, far off and faint, but she recognized them instantly. She shot into the darkness, letting her ears guide her. She followed the crunch of his feet on stones and small twigs, coming faster, louder, as his walk became a jog, then a run. She chased the sounds until all she heard was his heartbeat and then his breath and his voice, right by her ear, telling her, in tones as warm as fire, exactly the words she wanted to hear.

Roar leaned across the table and smiled at her seductively, his dark hair falling into his eyes. 'When you say everything happens in the Realms, do you mean everything?' Aria laughed nervously.'Yes. Especially that.There are no risks in the Realms.' Roar's smile widened. 'You simply think it and it happens? And it actually feels real?' 'Why are we talking about this?' 'I need a Smarteye,' he said.

Aria... everyone feels lost and low. It's how a person acts that makes them different

It didn't matter if Aria was hundreds of miles away, or whether she'd hurt him, or said goodbye, or anything else. Nothing would change the way he felt. The moment Aria had taken his hand on the roof at Marron's, she'd changed everything. No matter what happened, she'd always be the one.

What I was trying to say,” he whispered, “is that I see you in everything. There isn’t a word for you that means enough, because you’re everything to me.

Come thaw my frozen heart, my little arctic kitten.” Unable to resist, Aria jumped in and picked up the next line. “No chance, my yeti man, I’d rather be frostbitten.” “Let me be your snowman. Come live in my igloo.” “I’d rather freeze to death than hibernate with you.

Oh, this was champ. She’d found herself a Savage prince. Don’t laugh, she told herself. Don’t laugh, Aria.

He kissed her slowly. Everything went slowly so he could follow her temper, and search into her eyes. When they joined, her scent was brave and strong and certain. Perry took it into himself, breathing her breath, feeling what she felt. He'd never known anything as right.

Can you believe I have a favorite cave?

She knew how to put one foot in front of the other even when every step hurt. And she knew there was pain in the journey, but there was also great beauty. She'd seen it standing on rooftops and in green eyes and in the smallest, ugliest rock.

Fine. Then I love you, my little Night Crawler.

Tell me what to say. What can I say to make you want me the way I want you?

That was my first kiss," she said. "My first real one." He brought his head close, resting his forehead on hers. Blond waves fell around her face, soft against her cheeks. His chest rose and fell as he drew in a breath. "Felt like the first real one for me, too.

Come back with me, Aria. Be with me.

Perry could no longer deny that it was common knowledge. Aria was the safest path to him.

Roar's mouth pulled into a smile - a beautiful smile she hadn't seen in weeks. "Beautiful, huh?" She drew her hand away, giving him a small push on the shoulder. "Don't act surprised." "I'm not. Always nice to be reminded, though.

You know, glass is pretty easy to break, Aria." Roar was watching here, his gaze thoughtful.

Love is a rebellious bird that nobody can tame. He looked up, meeting her eyes. 'I'm called Peregrine. Like the falcon. People call me Perry.' She smiled. 'We're alike, Perry. My voice is called a falcon soprano.' His hand brushed past her cheek and slid into her hair. 'We're the same, Aria.

Will you stay? I think I'd sleep better if you stayed here tonight. Then we could miss them together.

What brought you out here Aria?” he asked. She looked up, right into his eyes. “I needed to find you.” “I know,” he said. “The second I left you, I felt the same way.

Soren huffed. “I saw her looking at me when we were changing into our uniforms.” “She was looking at you because you’re built like a bull.” Soren’s laugh was nervous, clipped. “Is that good?” “It’d be great if she were a cow.

You’re cruel to make me laugh right now,” Perry said, trying to keep as still as possible. Any sharp movement and his ribs felt like they’d crack. “Sorry,” Aria said. She was smiling, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. “Yeah… you look sorry.

Yes. Of Course… I’ll always…Like you, Aria." He grinned, because he sounded like fool. He loved her-down to his soul-and he was going to tell her sometime. But not with Talon’s knee digging into his kidney.

Her hand holding his for a dozen paces. His, resting on the small of her back for a moment. Touches that had no real purpose but to say I’m here and We are together still.

If we get to the Still Blue,” Soren said, “we should look at how to make more people like you, Aria.” She laughed. “Make more people like me? You mean half-breeds?” “No. I mean people who are forgiving and optimistic and things like that.

They'd taken their greatest strength and hidden it like a weakness. "Should we try this again?" he asked. Aria smiled. "The right way," she said, and wove her fingers through his. "Together.

Ten different questions popped into his mind. He forgot them all when Aria smiled and said, "You look handsome.

Come on, Paisley. What's the worst that could happen?" Aria meant it as a joke,but her voice sounded too high so she tacked on a laugh. That came out sounding mildly hysterical. "What could happen in a damaged dome?" Paisley counted on her slender fingers. "Our skin could rot off. We could get locked out. An Aether storm could turn us into human bacon. Then the cannibals could eat us for breakfast.

His eyes were heavy with desire, but she saw something else. A gleam that made her suspicious. "What?" she asked. His hand slid to her hips. "You're incredible." "That's not what you were thinking." "Was so. I always think that." He leaned in, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger as he kissed her bottom lip. "But I was also wondering what you were doing around Butter today. Aria laughed. That was attractive. She smelled like horse.

She looked at the knife, her throat tight with emotion. No roses or rings with him, but a knife with feathers carved into the handle. A knife that was part of him. She couldn't accept it.

From the corner of her eye, the wildflowers along the wall caught her attention. “Roar, wait!” Roar turned around. “Yes?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. Aria ran to the wall, scanning the flowers. She found the right one and plucked it. She drew in its scent and imagined Perry walking beside her, his bow across his back, looking over with his lopsided grin. She brought the flower to Roar. “I changed my mind,” she said. “Give him this.” Roar’s eyes crinkled in confusion. “I thought you liked roses. What’s this?” “A violet.” 

Aria smiled, then her gaze traveled to his waist. “Perry, did you know your pants are falling down?” “Yeah.” He didn’t have to look; he could feel them sliding down his hips. “I, uh . . . I took my belt off to make you feel comfortable.” “You took your belt off to make me feel comfortable?” He nodded, trying to hold back a laugh. “I worked it out in my head that this would be more natural.” “Your pants falling down is natural?” He grinned. “Yeah. If they fall any further, it’s going be very natural.

Un buen ejercicio de aproximación, Aria. Eso no te lo he enseñado yo, pero se te da muy bien. Creo que has ganado tú.

Aria dropped her satchel against the wall and glanced at the front door, smiling at a sound beyond the reach of his ears. A second later, Roar blew into the house in a dark flash. 'Finally!' he bellowed. He wrapped Aria into a big hug, lifting her off the ground. 'What took you so long? Don't answer that." He glanced at Perry. "I think I know.

He lay down, gathering her close. Aria slumped against him, turning her ear to his chest. She listened to his heartbeat - a good, solid sound - as the warmth of his body melted into her. She'd been in a fog earlier. Hallucinating and searching for what was real. She found it in him. He was real.

Perry...," Aria said, covering his hand. "Peregrine... you are kind. You put your life at risk for Talon and Cinder. For me. You did it when you didn't even like me. You worry about your tribe. You ache for Roar and your sister. I know you do. I saw it in your face every time Roar spoke of Live." Her voice was shaking. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "You are good, Peregrine." He shook his head. "You've seen me." "I have. And I know your heart is good.

Then he glanced at Roar, who waited on the dock. Maverick had never heard him speak a word. He’d only seen Roar stare vacantly at the water, or at the sky. “You know, you could do a lot better than him, ladybug.” Aria shook her head. “No. I couldn’t.

I can't concentrate. I thought I could do this." He put his hands up in defeat. "Can't." Then he came closer. Aria didn't think her heart can beat any faster, but then it did, faster with every step he took toward her, until it hammered against her chest, making her breathless when he stopped right in front of her.

I’m tired, Aria. I want peace.” “You want peace now that you have everything.

It happened. He had rendered to her.

I've been watching you and Roar. Wanting it to be me training with you." His shoulders came up. "I don't want to do it now." "Why?" Aria's voice was high and thin. He smiled, a flash of shyness, before he leaned close. "There are other things I'd rather do when I'm alone with you.

I hope you’re still angry with me,” he said. “I deserve it.” She smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you.” “Damn,” he said.

Why did you really offer to take me to Bliss?" "I want to," he said. Even as he spoke, he wasn't sure if he'd told her the truth. It hadn't felt like a want. It felt more like a need.

She knew she could answer it. She knew how to put one foot in front of the other even when every step hurt. And she knew there was pain in the journey, but there was also great beauty. She’d seen it standing on rooftops and in green eyes and in the smallest, ugliest rock. She would find the answer.

Perry could no longer deny that it was common knowledge. Aria was the safest path to him. He wondered what he had done that sent that message so loudly. Wondered how after a lifetime of scenting others’ feelings, he could be so poor at shielding his own.

You don't hate it, then?" he asked after a while. "Knowing you're half... Savage?" "How could I hate what's kept me alive?" He had no doubt the words were meant for him. Without thinking, he reached for her hand. Tucked it against his chest, feeling that was where it should be. Her eyes went from their hands to his Markings. Perry's heart slammed against his ribs. She had to feel it.

It’s different … isn’t it? Perry will know I left to protect him—won’t he? You saw how many people left... because of me. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been there in the first place. I had to leave.” Roar nodded. “It’s still going to hurt.” Aria pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, keeping back the tears. [He] was right. When it came to pain, reasons didn’t matter.

What if this was a sign? Maybe I’m not supposed to be an Outsider. He surprised her by taking her hand and threading his fingers through hers. “You already are an Outsider. You fit everywhere. You just don’t see it yet.” She stared at their hands. He’d never done that before. Roar gave her a droll look. “It’s just odd having you lay your hand on my arm all the time,” he said, responding to her thoughts. Yes, but this feels intimate. Don’t you think it does? I don’t mean that I think we’re being too intimate. I guess I do. Roar, sometimes it’s really hard to get used to this. Roar flashed a grin. “Aria, this isn’t intimate. If I were being intimate with you, trust me, you’d know.” She rolled her eyes. Next time you say something like that, you should toss a red rose and then leave with a swish of your cape.

Do you need me?” she said. She could scout as well as Roar and Brooke, who had already disappeared into the darkness. Perry looked up. His hair was tied back with a leather strip, but a piece fell forward, a blond wave coming to rest at his eyebrow. “You want the truth?” Aria braced herself for a comment about her arm. “Always.” “That’s my answer.

Strangely, he felt calm now. It didn't matter if Aria was hundreds of miles away, or whatever she'd hurt him, or said good-bye, or anything else. Nothing would change the way he felt. Not ignoring his thoughts of her, or being with Kirra. The moment Aria had taken his hand on the roof at Marron's, she'd changed everything. No matter what happened, she'd always be the one.

When we get out of this, let’s go somewhere again. Me and you.” The tension in her chest loosened, relief washing over her. He’d said when. Even in his beaten condition, he believed in whens and not ifs. She never should have doubted his strength. “Where do you want to go?” she asked. His smile was faint and lopsided. “Doesn’t matter . . . I just want to spend time alone with you.” Aria wanted exactly the same thing. And she ached to see him smile—really smile—so she said, “And this isn’t good enough for you?

She'd been right. It had been easier with her. Perry placed his right hand on hers. "Are you all right?" he whispered. It wasn't what he wanted to know. Of course she wasn't all right. What he wanted to know was if the together part still mattered to her. Because even though he was confused and sorry and angry, it still mattered to him. She looked up and nodded, and he knew she agreed. Whatever else came, they'd face it together.

I remember she sang the opening aria from Her Last Nocturne and I saw the night sky pour out of her mouth. Every time I wemt to hear her sing afterward, even months afterward, I saw the same thing. Blackness and stars flooding her mouth and splashing onto the boards in great gouts. Galaxies and the void dripping off her chin. Her teeth burning. I told her about it on a night in December and she whispered I know it, baby. I see it, too. That's my insides coming out.

Pino at that moment seemed to me like a portal into a long-ago world where the ghosts of war and courage, the demons of hatred and inhumanity, and the arias of faith and love still played out within the good and decent soul who'd survived to tell the tales.

I’m going to kill him for this,” she said. “No. Stay away from him, Aria. Find a way to get us out of here. Use Hess. If he likes to run from problems, let’s give him somewhere to go. Another option. But promise me you’ll stay away from Sable.” “Perry, no.” “Aria, yes.” Didn’t she understand? He could endure anything—except losing her.

If Aria had been sensible, or even had some instincts of self-preservation, she would have apologized and excused herself. But she’d never been accused of being sensible.

Directly overhead the Milky Way was as distinct as a highway across the sky. The constellations shown brilliantly, except the north, where they were blurred by the white sheets of the Aurora. Now shimmering like translucent curtains drawn over the windows of heaven, the northern lights suddenly streaked across a million miles of space to burst in silent explosions. Fountains of light, pale greens, reds, and yellows, showered the stars and geysered up to the center of the sky, where they pooled to form a multicolored sphere, a kind of mock sun that gave light but no heat, pulsing, flaring, and casting beams in all directions, horizon to horizon. Below, the wolves howled with midnight madness and the two young men stood in speechless awe. Even after the spectacle ended, the Aurora fading again to faint shimmer, they stood as silent and transfixed as the first human beings ever to behold the wonder of creation. Starkmann felt the diminishment that is not self-depreciation but humility; for what was he and what was Bonnie George? Flickers of consciousness imprisoned in lumps of dust; above them a sky ablaze with the Aurora, around them a wilderness where wolves sang savage arias to a frozen moon.

Aria embraced this tactic, calling it the Spontaneous Kiss, and soon learned how difficult Scires were to surprise. Whenever she tried the Spontaneous Kiss in return, Perry smiled with heavy-lidded eyes and opened his arms. She kissed him anyway, not caring,

I can’t because I don’t want you to hide from me.

He lay down, gathering her close. Aria slumped against him, turning her ear to his chest. She listened to his heartbeat—a good, solid sound—as the warmth of his body melted into her. She'd been in a fog earlier. Hallucinating and searching for what was real. She found it in him. He was real. "We're together now," he whispered against her forehead. "The way we should be." She closed her eyes and relaxed her breathing, seeking calm. He was rendered to her. Maybe he'd feel it too. "Sleep, Perry." "I will," he said. "With your right here, I will.

How many times had she stared up at this same sky and marveled at the view? How many more times would it take before it got old? She hoped she would never know the answer to that question. The gentle gold of Saturn's surface was ever present like a muted eternal sun. The rings, with shades varied from the same gold of the planet's to a brown so dark it might've been black, swept across the planet's fluid surface.

Entonces la besó, separando aquellos labios suaves con los suyos. Su sabor era perfecto, a lluvia nueva. El beso se hizo más profundo, recorrió su cuerpo con las manos, la atrajo hacia sí. Pero entonces ella se retiró y sonrió. Sin decir nada, le besó la nariz, la comisura de los labios, y después un hoyuelo de la mejilla. Cuando le levantó la camisa, creyó que el corazón iba a dejar de latirle. Él la ayudó y se la quitó por encima e la cabeza. Los ojos de Aria recorrieron aquel pecho, y sus dedos resiguieron las marcas. Él no lograba respirar más despacio. -Perry, quiero verte la espalda. Otra sorpresa, pero él asintió y se dio media vuelta. Echó la cabeza hacia delante y aprovechó el momento para intentar calmarse un poco. Aria dibujó con su dedo el perfil de sus alas sobre su piel, y él dio un respingo y soltó un gemido. Se maldijo a sí mismo: ni queriendo habría podido sonar más salvaje. -Lo siento- susurró Aria. Él carraspeó.

Come se il mio dito seguendo il profilo della tua clavicola dietro porte chiuse, bastasse a cancellarmi. A dimenticare che avevamo costruito questa casa sapendo che non sarebbe durata. Chi sa fermare il rimorso senza amputarsi le mani? Un'altra torcia si riversa dalla finestra in cucina, un'altra colomba smarrita. Mi viene da ridere. L'ho sempre saputo che non avrei mai sentito più caldo che accanto al mio uomo. Ma tu non ridere. Capiscimi quando affermo che brucio al meglio incoronato dal tuo profumo: quel sudore di terra & Old Spice che cerco ogni sera che i giorni mi negano. Le nostre facce si anneriscono sulle fotografie alla parete. Non ridere. Raccontami di nuovo la storia dei passeri volati via da Roma espugnata, le ali in fiamme. Racconta come la rovina s'annidò dentro ogni gola raggelata & la fece cantare finché le note non si cucirono al fumo che saliva dalle tue narici. Parla - fino a quando la tua voce non è più niente altro che lo scoppiettio di ossa bruciate. Ma non ridere quando questi muri crollano & solo scintille non passeri volano via. Quando verranno a setacciare queste ceneri - & a staccarmi la lingua, questo pugno di rosa, carbonizzato & strozzato dalla tua bocca scomparsa. Ogni petalo nero esploso con ciò che resta della nostra risata. Risata incenerita ad aria a miele a piccolo caro, guarda. Guarda come siamo contenti di non essere nessuno &ppure ancora americani.

And I tore my first puzzle piece of breath out of the sky—which I have yet to return

Come thaw my frozen heart, my little arctic kitten.” Unable to resist, Aria jumped in and picked up the next line. “No chance, my yeti man, I’d rather be frostbitten.” “Let me be your snowman. Come live in my igloo.” “I’d rather freeze to death than hibernate with you.” Aria couldn’t believe they were singing such a stupid song

Do you see?” Aria said softly. He did. “Our rocks are better.

-Os he estado observando a Rugido y a ti. He deseado ser yo quien te entrenara.-Levantó más los hombros-. Pero ahora no quiero hacerlo. -¿Por qué?-preguntó Aria con voz aguda, sin aliento. Él sonrió, y un destello de timidez iluminó su rostro. Se acercó más a ella. -Hay otras cosas que preferiría hacer cuando estoy a solas contigo. Había llegado el momento de lanzarse al vacío. -Pues hazlas.

-¿Y qué crees tú que ha hecho? -no me importa lo que haya hecho, y a ti tampoco debería importarte. Vamos. Volvamos con Aria. Va por ahí. -Ya sé por donde ha ido. Rugido le dio una palmada fuerte en el hombro. -Sólo quería asegurarme de que te habías fijado.

dance and love on the back side of war. Pain and grief sawed through Pino. This torment was his punishment, he decided. He bowed his head, understanding that this was between God and . . . The aria of the heartbroken clown echoed in his ears and Anna crumpled and fell again, and again, and . . . in a matter of seconds, his faith in God, in life, in love, and in a better tomorrow drained away to empty. Pino held on to a marble post and climbed up onto the balcony rail, a betrayer, abandoned and alone. He gazed at the puffy clouds scudding across the azure sky and decided that clouds and sky were good enough to look at while dying. “You saw all that I did, Lord,” Pino said, letting go of the post to take the worst step of all.

So he sings,” he continued as if Denny had said nothing. “His solo mio, that with her in his life he is rich because she is so beautiful that she makes the sun more beautiful, you understand?” And at that he dropped the hoe, closed his eyes and spread out his arms wide and with the fading sun shining on his handsome face he sang: Che bella cosa è na jurnata 'e sole n'aria serena doppo na tempesta! Pe' ll'aria fresca pare già na festa Che bella cosa e' na jurnata 'e sole Ma n'atu sole, cchiù bello, oi ne' 'O sole mio sta 'nfronte a te! 'O sole, 'o sole mio sta 'nfronte a te! sta 'nfronte a te! It looked like fun. We dropped our tools and joined him, belting out something that sounded remarkably like Napolitano. We sang as loud as we could, holding on to each note as long as we could before we ran out of breath, and then we sang again, occasionally dropping to one knee, holding our hands over our hearts with exaggerated looks of deep pain. Although we made the words up, we sang with the deepest passion, with the best that we had, with all of our hearts, and that made us artists, great artists, for in that song, we had made all that art is: the creation of something from nothing, fashioned with all of the soul, born from joy. And as that beautiful summer sun set over Waterbury, the Brass City, the City of Churches, our voices floated above the wonderful aromas of the garden, across the red sky and joined the spirits in eternity.

Give it to me, she wanted to scream. Give me the pain. Let me take it from you.

Johnny leaned against the doorframe beside Aria, both of them uncomfortable being singled out by Derek, who looked totally in control, poring over tomorrow’s articles behind his massive oak desk.

Pain and grief sawed through Pino. This torment was his punishment, he decided. He bowed his head, understanding that this was between God and . . . The aria of the heartbroken clown echoed in his ears and Anna crumpled and fell again, and again, and . . . in a matter of seconds, his faith in God, in life, in love, and in a better tomorrow drained away to empty

He tried to stay focused, but in his head he kept hearing the clown’s devastated aria, kept seeing Anna crying for help, hunching up at the bullet’s strike, and then crumpling.

I wanted to go and stand inside a blossoming fruit tree, a cherry, and look up, into it, and see the bright ganglia of blue sky, and the many gathered skirts of the multiple blooms