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“Crying isn't so bad. I mean, I have a sister..." He paused, and she had the distinct impression he was debating whether or not he should elaborate. On what, Ellie wasn't sure. "And I cry all the time," he said, his voice slightly higher pitched than it usually was. "You do?" Ellie ventured, her voice sounding muted from crying. "Well, it's been a while...and by 'a while', I mean about two days,”

Quote by Ashley Nikole

Book:Present History
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Present History

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Ashley Nikole

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“Pulling the threadbare sheet over her shoulder, she rolled onto her side away from him. Cries, deep and gun-wrenching built in her chest, threatening to steal away what air was left in her lungs. She didn't care that Bucket Man sat a foot away, witnessing her lose what grip she had left on reality. She had nothing. Her memory was gone and she was already half dead. Her only friend was agony, and she was the daughter of a monster.”

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“Even the bruising couldn't disguise the strength of his features. His jaw, cheekbones, nose and--even his forehead--nothing was lacking in confidence about him--in the looks or personality department. What she wouldn't give to have his confidence. And absolution of guilt.”

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“Ethan grabbed Alijah's shirtfront and hauled him out back of the house. "I don't need a lecture from--" "Oh yes, you do." Ethan gave him a helpful push down the remaining stairs, not a bit remorseful for making him lose his footing. But the sap recovered in time. Blast it all--Ethan truly wanted to rearrange the man's face.”

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“Time interacts with attention in funny ways. At one extreme, when Ruth was gripped by the compulsive mania and hyperfocus of an Internet search, the hours seemed to aggregate and swell like a wave, swallowing huge chunks of her day. At the other extreme, when her attention was disengaged and fractured, she experienced time at its most granular, wherein moments hung around like particles, diffused and suspended in standing water. There used to be a middle way, too, when her attention was focused but vast, and time felt like a limpid pool, ringed by sunlit ferns. An underground spring fed the pool from deep below, creating a gentle current of words that bubbled up, while on the surface, breezes shimmered and played.”

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“You'll yet find happiness." A twang of anger snapped within her at his words. "Shut your trap, highness, or I'll bloody well shut it for you!" She lunged forward and grabbed the front of his shirt. Her fingers itched for- for what? A weapon. She berated herself for her violent state of mind. Hands still fisted in his shirt, Justice felt their trembling and prayed he did not. Jonathan glanced down at her hands, face impassive, then returned his eyes to her face. When Justice finally gave in and lifted her gaze, her vision blurred at the empathy written in his eyes.”

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