Phillip Graves Quotes

There is a stillness between us, a period of restlessness that ties my stomach in a hangman’s noose. It is this same lack in noise that lives, there! in the darkness of the grave, how it frightens me beyond all things.

How prudently most men creep into nameless graves, while now and then one or two forget themselves into immortality.

Annabelle gnawed her bottom lip. “I know I have to tell him the truth. I just need to find the right moment.” Krystal cocked her hip. “Girl, there is no right moment to die.” Charmaine clucked her tongue. “You are going straight on the top of my prayer list.” Only Phoebe looked pleased, and her amber eyes glowed like a cat’s. “I love this. Not the fact that you’ll end up in a shallow grave – I’m really sorry about that, and I’ll make sure he’s prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. But I love knowing that a mere slip of a female put one over on the great Python.” Molly glared at her sister. “This is the exact reason why Christine Jeffreys won’t let her daughters have a sleepover with the twins. You frighten people.

In the Code of Canon Law, it states clearly: 'A person who is conscious of grave sin is not to celebrate Mass or receive the body of the Lord without previous sacramental confession.' I haven’t attended confession in well over a decade, and that’s less because of dogmatic conflict than it is because of moral cowardice. Deeper than that, maybe I don’t want to be forgiven. I want to be punished. Which may be just about the most selfish, egotistical thought I’ve ever had. I’m sick with self-love. Or self-loathing. After all, they’re both essentially the same thing.

Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels saw that the “mean whites” (as they called them) of the South were hopeless politically. They felt that nothing could be done with them but to render them powerless until they died out of old age. This was not a unique observation. Wendell Phillips, the great Radical abolitionist, bluntly pleaded in 1870: “Now is the time … to guarantee the South against the possible domination or the anger of the white race. We adhere to our opinion that nothing, or not much, except hostility, can be expected of two-thirds of the adult white men. They will go to their graves unchanged. No one of them should ever again be trusted with political rights. And all the elemental power of civilization should be combined and brought into play to counterwork the anger and plots of such foes.

Littleness borders on passing away and annihilation. It is the idea of littleness which produces pain, a sense of void and sadness: the grave is the narrow house, the coffin is a dwelling, silent, cool, and small. Littleness gives a sense of void, and this causes sadness. Sadness is the beginning of annihilation, infinite emptiness is annihilation.

Jean-Claude sent me a dozen pure white, long-stemmed roses. The card read, “If you have answered the question truthfully, come dancing with me.” I wrote “No” on the back of the card and slipped it under the door at Guilty Pleasures, during daylight hours. I had been attracted to Jean-Claude. Maybe I still was. So what? He thought it changed things. It didn’t. All I had to do was visit Phillip’s grave to know that. Oh, hell, I didn’t even have to go that far. I know who and what I am. I am The Executioner, and I don’t date vampires. I kill them.

She had forgotten so much of it, those early years, this or that picture taken by a tree, in the bath, on a swing, on the subway. They had been so cute at so many moments that had just washed over her. Lu and Sy standing on the coffee table, holding hands, gazing gravely at the phone, both naked but for transparent ballet skirts. If not for these pictures, these sturdy images pulled out of the blur of her memory, her life would have no solidity. She hated to glimpse herself in the pictures though. Her face raw with exhaustion and raw with love. Hard to look at.