Lis 1 Quotes

Duh, why didn't you just kill her?" Lisa asked, annoyed. "Two more seconds and it would have been justifiable vampicide." "Lis, for all we know, she volunteers weekends at the soup kitchen.

Lick your lips,"she says with a laugh, wiping her damp cheeks. "You might taste him. The instant he learned that your saliva would help him heal, he's been taking full advantage. He left less than an hour ago and kissed you at least five times while he was here.

Few things are black-and-white, Lis. Most of life exists in that messy gray area in between, but if you wanted what was happening— you enjoyed it and so did the other— then there’s nothing wrong, she’d said. Anyone who tells you different either hasn’t been where you’ve been or they’re just living a different life. Doesn't make either of you right or wrong.

We'll make leadplant tea instead of coffe.Just tell them it's imported." Jesse whispered. "Mama,you taught me never to lie," LisBeth chided. "Well,it is imported-from the prairie!

Carl: Do I happen to see a twinkle in your eye, or do you always look so fantastic Lis? Lis: Carl dear, the twinkle in my eye is reserved for my husband and children, When are you going to accept that? Carl: I'll accept it the day the light vanishes and eternal darkness swallows me up along with the rest of the earth.

Following the dob up the stairs, he trudged with the phone to his ear. “Dr.

The absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.

From my experience, mortals seem preoccupied with who is better and who is less than.

Na'laa?' ...'Yes?' 'You're staring at me.' ... 'It's okay.' ... 'I'm staring at you.

Your skin is far too lovely to be bruised,' ...

And you dare to wear the golden spurs of a knight? You dare to call yourself a Marshal of France and carry the fleur-de-lis on your coat of arms? The meanest lackey in this hall knows more of honour and loyalty than you! Hang and burn my servants and kill me - kill too, now that you have handed your companion-in-arms Arnaud de Montsalvy, to your cousin. With my last breath, I shall call on Heaven to witness that Gilles de Rais is a traitor and a felon!

MacKenzie surveyed the nearly finished quilt. "What's the name of this pattern, Mrs. King?" he asked. "Princess Feather," Jesse answered. Taking LisBeth's hand in his own, MacKenzie asked, "Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if you had planned to add this quilt to LisBeth's hope chest?" Jesse looked up at the couple and grinned. "I could be persuaded to do that. But only if I was assured that her future husband was a man worthy of sharing such a gift.

Achtergrond Groen, ongelijkmatig dekkend, rechts boven oker over witte ondergrond. Voorgrond IJzeren balustrade, wit en grijs. Albasten VAAS op lage, vierkante voet, waarin: 1 Stokroos 2 Madeliefje 3 Slaapbol 4 Tuinaurikel paars-geel 5 Pioen rood 6 Tulp okergeel en lilapaars 7 Tuinaurikel bruinpaars-geel 8 Duitse lis 9 Wilgenkatje 10 Keizerskroon top 11 Ridderspoor roze 12 Afrikaantje Linksvoor een Distelvink. Rechtsachter een dennenbosje. Het bladgroen is opgebouwd uit grasgroen en geel. Wat gek toch, denkt Rachel, dat woorden me altijd zoveel dieper treffen dan beeld.

No,” Noah protested, around Blue’s arm. “I’m serious. This place creeps me the hell out. Can we go?” Gansey’s face broke into a relieved, easy grin. “Yes, we can go home.” “I’m still not eating pizza,” Noah said, backing out of the church with Blue. Ronan, still in the ruins, looked over his shoulder at them. In the dim light of the flashlights, the tattooed hook that edged out above his collar looked like either a claw or a finger or part of a fleur-de-lis. It was nearly as sharp as his smile. “I guess now would be a good time to tell you,” he said. “I took Chainsaw out of my dreams.

She told everything as quickly as she could, stringing sentences together the way she had when she was a little girl. By the end of the tale,she found herself defending her mother,angry at the world that made it necessary for her to explain.Impulsively, she grabbed a curry comb and began to brush Red Star's coat vigorously.She brushed for a long time,and tears began to blur her vision.She tried to resign herself to what seemed to be happening.Then a hand covered hers and squeezed affectionately. Mac took the curry comb away,and bent to kiss the back of her hand. "So,Miss King,will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the social next Friday evening at the Congregational Church?" Miss King embarrassed herself by saying yes! so loudly that the dozing horse in the stall next to Red Star jumped and kicked the side of his stall in fright.The two young people laughed, and MacKenzie lifted LisBeth into the air and swung her around in his arms. Sick with apprehension,Jesse had been unable to remain alone for long.She returned to the kitchen to help Augustus with meal preparations, praying earnestly for LisBeth and MacKenzie while she worked.When the two young people burst through the kitchen door together,their happy smiles told the older women all they needed to know. LisBeth was sobered when she saw her Mother. "Mother,I..." Jesse held up a hand to stop her. "It's all right,LisBeth. I'm glad everything turned out.I've been praying for you both." "Mother,all four of us know about Papa. Would you tell me a story about him while we make supper?" The culprit never came forward, but at some time that evening, the first book-burning in the State of Nebraska took place. Francis Day's Memoirs of the Savage West found its way into Augusta's cook stove.

Because I thought you were the best person in the school,” he said. “And the prettiest. From the eyes up at least.” “Excuse me?” Dani said. “That’s all I ever saw,” Tommy said. “Your face was always buried in a book.” He held a hand horizontal and flat in front of his face to illustrate. “This was you,” he said, raising his hand to cover his nose. “Book, eyebrows, top of head. I was scared of you.

Je lis vite, avec voracité, presque en diagonale, pour essayer de m'en fourrer autant que je peux dans la tête avant la prochaine longue famine. S'il s'agissait de manger, ce serait la gloutonnerie de l'affamé, et s'il s'agissait de sexualité, ce serait une brève et furtive étreinte, debout quelque part dans une ruelle.

A long time ago, I realized I could spend all my time wishing for the son I never had or I could love the son who was standing right in front of me.

Fame is a vapor, popularity an accident, riches take wings. Only one endures, and that is character.

mother.

He wrapped his arms around her. “Have I told you today how happy I am that you gave up the good fight and moved back in with me?” “Not today,” she said, sucking in his sex-and-sin scent. “But last night you mentioned it quite a few times.” She’d tried for six weeks to live by herself in the apartment over Gracie’s garage, thinking she needed to experience life on her own before living with Mitch. She’d hated every minute of it. When she’d taken to sneaking into the farmhouse and crawling into bed with him in the middle of the night, he’d finally put his foot down. She sighed. Contentment had her curling deeper into his embrace. She didn’t care if it was wrong: Mitch and this farmhouse made her happy. “Maddie,” he said, his voice catching in a way that had her lifting her chin. “You know I love you.” “I know. I love you too.” His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind her chin. “Come with me.” He clasped her hand and led her into the bedroom before motioning her to the bed. She sat, and he walked over to the antique dresser and took a box out of the dresser. He walked back to the bed and sat down next to her. “I wanted to give this to you tonight, but then I saw you standing in the doorway and I knew I couldn’t wait.” Maddie looked at the box, it was wooden, etched with an intricate fleur-de-lis design on it and words in another language. “What is it?” “It was my grandmother’s. They bought it on their honeymoon. It’s French. It says, ‘There is only one happiness in life: to love and be loved.’” “It’s beautiful.” That he would give her something so treasured brought the threat of tears to her eyes. He handed it to her. “Open it.” She took the box and suddenly her heart started to pound. She lifted the lid and gasped, blinking as her vision blurred. Mitch grasped her left hand. “I know it’s only been three months, but in my family, meeting the night your car breaks down is a sign of a long, happy marriage.” Maddie couldn’t take her eyes off the ring. It was a gorgeous, simple platinum band with two small emerald stones flanking what had to be a three-carat rectangular diamond. She looked at Mitch. “Maddie Donovan, will you please marry me?” “Yes.” She kissed him, a soft, slow, drugging kiss filled with hope and promises. There was no hesitation. Not a seed of worry or shred of doubt. Her heart belonged to only one man, and he was right in front of her. “It would be my honor.” He slipped the ring on her finger. “My grandma would be thrilled that you have her ring.” “It’s hers?” It sparkled in the sunlight. It looked important on her hand. “It’s been in the family vault since she died. My mom sent it a couple of weeks ago. She’s been a little pushy about the whole thing. I think she’s worried I’ll do something to screw it up and she’ll lose the best daughter-in-law ever.” Maddie laughed. “I love her, too.” He ran his finger over the platinum band. “I changed the side stones to emeralds because they match your eyes. Do you think I made the right choice?” She put her hands on the sides of his face. “It is the most gorgeous ring I have ever laid eyes on. I love it. I love you. You know I’d take you with a plastic ring from Wal-Mart.” “I know.” She kissed him. “But I’m not going to lie: this is a kick-ass ring.” He grinned. “You know, I think that’s what my grandma used to say.” “She was obviously a smart woman.” “For the record, don’t even think about running.” Mitch pushed her back on the bed and captured her beneath him. “I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth and bring you back where you belong.” She reached for him, this man who’d been her salvation. “I will run down the aisle to meet you.

do was do better in the future. She went downstairs and

sidewalk, passed out next to his friend. “Who are these guys?” her oversized companion asked. Abigail held up the arm of one of the men and showed it to Elliott. On the back of his hand was an image of two winged dragons on either side of a fleur-de-lis. “Does that answer your question?” she asked. Elliott said nothing but instinctively reached up and touched the tattoo on his large neckTogether, Abigail and Elliott, dragged the unconscious men away from the store and down a narrow side walkway. Inside the store, Uncle Al settled his transaction with the clerk, folded up the now empty blanket and placed it back in his satchel. He tucked the satchel under his arm and stepped out the door, carefully looking up and down the street before heading on his way. Back in the confines of the narrow walkway,

The gossip will kill your Great Grandmother.

« J’adore les mangas violents quand je les lis, pas quand je suis coincé dedans ! »

fn1 all that afternoon. It took my mind off going out to

Even Matthew, whose taste did not run that way at all, could see that he was beautiful, his black hair slicked back, his suit impeccably tailored and his claret tie fastened with a silver stickpin, a fleur-de-lis that matched the discreet medallions on his cordovon loafers.

Na'laa,' he whispered. 'You should've known better than to run. I will always catch you.

Ah, fuck, Lisaya, you’re a loaded spring, aren’t you?” Ailis stiffened beneath him, going cold. “Who’s Lisaya?” Instead of showing any shame or defensiveness, Ronan laughed. “You are. Ailis. Lis. Lisaya. It’s how we do pet names in Frythe. My ma always called me Ronyit. Viera still does. I won’t call you Lisaya if you don’t like it.

He's kidnapping me, and you two are arguing over how much taller he is?' 'See.' Prince Thorne squeezed me. 'Even she knows I'm taller.' 'Traitor,' Lord Bastian said with a sigh.

... to say we would repeat history was unfair when that history was unknown to us.

Fear and desperation were a heady mix, giving one strength one normally wouldn't have.

Without humanity, there was just... 'Logic.

I'm on the menu because I want to be.' My hands balled into fists. 'And I'm not even really on the menu. I'm like a barely chosen... appetiser.

Do you think a simple lock can prevent me from being where I want to be?' My stomach dipped. 'Well, that is somewhat... creepy.

Oh my gods,' I hissed. 'You are...' 'What?' The colours of his eyes were churning again. ''Captivating to you? I know. There's no need to tell me.' 'Wasn't planning to.' 'Whatever you say, na'laa,' he murmured.

This should come as a surprise to no one, but just so we are all clear, what I want? I get. And what I want is for you to keep me company during my stay here.' I inhaled sharply. 'Well, I suppose this will be a first for you, then.

I... I, uh, have a headache.' 'Ah, I see.' Straight white teeth appeared as the Lord smiled more broadly. 'I'm guessing that headache is a rather large one? Perhaps if you had to describe it, you'd say that it came in a six-foot-and-seven-inch frame?

You know? I think I liked you better when you didn't have the energy to speak.' 'So, you liked me?' 'That's not what I said.' 'That's exactly what you said.' 'For fuck's sake,' I hissed. 'That wasn't what I meant.

Once more, you've proven just how brave you are.' 'I just... I just did what I thought was right.' 'And that often takes the most bravery, doesn't it?

There are things moving in the garden now that will find your flesh as tasty as I find it lovely.

I think you've confused being enthralled with amusing yourself by irritating me.' 'Possibly,' he remarked. 'I do find pleasure in that.' He paused. 'Na'laa.

I had no future planned beyond this day, this night. I couldn't when living simply meant surviving to the next day or dreading what could come, which wasn't really living at all.

If it is something you enjoy then it is lucrative in a way that means more than coin.

Is there anything else you need my assistance with?' 'Need? No.' His head turned to the side. A lock of bronze hair fell against his cheek. 'Want? Yes. But that would be selfish of me. I prefer to be greedy.' 'Are they not the same thing?' 'Not in my opinion. Greedy is not necessarily a solitary act,' he replied.

I am not a possession.' I waited till the Prince's gaze returned to mine. 'I am owned by no one.

...more times than not, people really didn't want the answers they sought, and the truth of what was to come was often far more destructive than a lie.

Most people didn't realise there was a world of difference between being touched and touching.

He's a bastard.' My shoulders shook with laughter. 'I'm pretty sure all of those who are in power are bastards.

I like what I am.' Her gaze briefly met mine. 'I wish you could like what you are.

Well, I suppose being aware of your troublesome behaviour is one half of the battle.' 'It would only be a battle if I found my behaviour to be troublesome.' 'At least you're honest,' I muttered, twisting the ribbon. 'One of us has to be.

I was not bruised.' The prince eyed me. 'I do enjoy your lies.

...there were few feelings worse than loneliness. Or maybe there actually weren't any, and loneliness was the worst, because it was pervasive, hard to shake, even when you weren't alone, and it worked overtime to convince you that contentment and joy were possible. But that was a lie. When you truly spent most of your time alone? When you had to? And not because you wanted to? There was no joy to be found.

People with dyslexia had to look harder at the details surrounding them and overcome a dysfunction of the visual pathways, decoding what information was meaningful and what wasn’t. It was like trying to hear what someone was saying at a really loud party. For dyslexics, the world was full of visual noise.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can’t change . . . and the courage to change the things I can.

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