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Quote by Kerrigan Byrne

“Warmth stole into Murdoch's voice at the memory, and Farah's heart clenched at the picture of her Dougan not yet a man, and yet not a boy, regaling a room full of hardened prisoners about the graveyard capers and bog adventures of a ten-year-old girl in the Scottish Highlands. "He described ye so many times, I feel as though any of us would have recognized ye had we seen ye on the streets. He told us of yer kindness, yer innocence, yer gentle ways and boundless curiosity. Ye became something of a patron saint to us all. Our daughter. Our sister. Our... Fairy. Without even knowing it, ye gave us- him- a little bit of sunshine and hope in a world of shadow and pain.”

Quote by Kerrigan Byrne

Work

The Highwayman

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Kerrigan Byrne

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“Farah gaped, unable to fathom his brutality. She shouldn't be shocked, she'd been around the worst sort of criminals for more years than she'd care to admit. But, somehow, it astounded her that one so cultured, so relaxed and wealthy and tailored, could issue such a threat with a civil tongue. The criminals of her acquaintance were dirty and foul with explosive tempers and crude language. Blackwell threatened violence as though discussing the price of Irish potatoes.”

“His thoughts became as scattered and aimless as the rivulets sluicing down her lush curves. She was a goddess rising from the water. Like Botticelli's Birth of Venus, except with heavy silvery hair darkened by her bath that, unlike Venus, she didn't use to hide her feminine secrets. She stood with her chin held at an obstinate angle, her shoulders straight in an observance of good posture, those soft gray eyes staring at him with a mixture of resolution and expectation.”

“Ree Dolly stood at the break of day on her cold front steps and smelled coming flurries and saw meat. Meat hung from trees across the creek. Carcasses hung pale of flesh with fatty gleam from low limbs of saplings in the side yards. Three halt haggard houses formed a kneeling rank on the far creekside and each had two or more skinned torsos dangling by rope from sagged limbs, venison left to the weather for two nights and three days so the early blossoming of decay might round the flavor, sweeten that meat to the bone.”

“Os adultos gostam de números. Quando vocês lhes falam de um novo amigo, nunca se interessam pelo essencial. Nunca perguntam: “Qual é o som da voz dele? Que brincadeiras prefere? Coleciona borboletas?”. Indagam: “Que idade ele tem? Quantos irmãos tem? Quanto pesa? Quanto ganha o pai dele?”. Só aí julgam conhecê-lo. Se vocês disserem aos adultos: “Vi uma bela casa de tijolos cor-de-rosa, com gerânios nas janelas e pombas no telhado…”, eles não conseguirão imaginá-la. Vocês precisam dizer: “Vi uma casa de cem mil francos”. Então eles exclamam: “Que beleza!”