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Quote by Lisa Kleypas

“Would you say that you're a good man, Harry?" He had to think about that. "No," he finally said. "In the fairy tale you mentioned last night, I would probably be the villain. But it's possible the villain would treat you far better than the prince would have." Poppy wondered what was wrong with her, that she should be amused rather than frightened by his confession. "Harry. You're not supposed to court a girl by telling her you're the villain." He gave her an innocent glance that didn't deceive her in the least. "I'm trying to be honest." "Perhaps. But you're also making certain that whatever anyone says about you, you've already admitted it. Now you've made all criticism of you ineffectual." Harry blinked as if she'd surprised him. "You think I'm that manipulative?" She nodded. Harry seemed stunned that she could see through him so easily. Instead of being annoyed, however, he stared at her with stark longing. "Poppy, I have to have you.”

Book:Tempt Me at Twilight

Work

Tempt Me at Twilight

Tempt Me at Twilight is a captivating romance novel that delves into the complexities of love and desire. The story unfolds in a setting that is both mysterious and romantic, as it explores the intense and passionate relationship between two central characters. The novel is known for its emotional depth and the vivid portrayal of the characters' emotions, making it a compelling read for fans of romance literature. more

Author

Lisa Kleypas

Lisa Kleypas, born in 1964, is a renowned American romance novel author. Her works are known for their delicate emotional descriptions and captivating storylines, which have won the hearts of numerous readers. more

“Evelinde's thoughts died as she saw that her still-damp chemise was transparent. She could clearly make out several dark patches through the clinging cloth. One was the large mottling bruise on her hip, the other another even bigger bruise on her ribs, but the others were not bruises at all. Her darker nipples were clearly displayed in the damp shift, and the dark gold at the apex of her thighs stood out against her pale skin. A gasp of horror caught in her throat, but before Evelinde could pull away and cover herself, he'd taken hold of her arm. "And here." She peered distractedly down at the arm he'd turned slightly. She had seen all these bruises earlier, the result of her tumble in the river, not from falling from her horse as he supposed. She was more concerned with other issues at the moment, like her near nudity. When he leaned a little closer to see her upper arm better, Evelinde sucked in a startled gulp of air. His breath was blowing hot and sweet on her chilled nipple through the damp chemise. The effect was almost shocking. Evelinde stood completely still, holding her breath as he examined her injury. He took an exceptionally long time doing so, much longer than he had with the other bruises. And the whole time he did, he was inhaling and exhaling, sending out warm puffs of air over the trembling nipple. Each time he did, an odd little tingle went through Evelinde. Then he suddenly raised a hand to run a finger lightly around the discoloration on her arm, and his wrist brushed against her nipple through the damp cloth. Evelinde was sure it was accidental, and he did not even notice, but the effect it had on her was rather startling. She closed her eyes as an odd pleasure rolled through her body, finding herself suddenly torn between putting some space between them and staying put to enjoy more of the astonishing effect he had on her. When he finally released her arm and unclasped her legs, she opened her eyes to find him standing up. Before Evelinde could regain enough of her senses to go find her gown and draw it on to cover herself, he'd clasped her head in one hand and tilted her face up to his as she brushed his finger lightly in a circle along her left jaw. "Ye've another here," he growled. "Oh," Evelinde breathed, as his finger apparently followed the edge of the bruise past the corner of her lips. That, too, was from her fall in the river, but she couldn't seem to untangle her tongue enough to say so as his finger trailed over her skin. "Ye've beautiful eyes, lass," he murmured, peering into those eyes now rather than at the injury he was tracing. "So do you," Evelinde whispered before she could think better of it. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips right before his mouth covered hers. Evelinde stiffened at the unexpected caress. His lips were soft yet firm, but kissing her was wholly inappropriate. She was about to say so when something prodded at her lips. Evelinde tried to pull back, but his hand was at the back of her head, preventing her retreat. Suddenly she found her mouth invaded by his tongue. Her first instinct was to push him away, but then his tongue rasped along hers, and Evelinde stilled again. The caress was surprisingly pleasant. She found herself holding onto his arms rather than pushing him away, and her eyes closed as a little sigh slipped from her mouth to his.”

First Kiss Bruises Highlander Romance See Through Evelinde And Cullen Half Naked Tended

Book:Devil of the Highlands

Source: Devil of the Highlands

“The sun is the width of a human foot.”

Subjectivism

Book:Fragments

Source: Fragments

“We observe in this torrent of incoherence a lack of regularity in the subject himself; the "I" has fallen to pieces after struggling for three centuries against the great objective institutions and dissolving them with its subjectivism and rejecting in them any law that was sacred and binding on itself. There is no reason to think that Decadence - obviously an historical phenomenon of great inevitability and significance — has confined itself to poetry; we should expect in the more or less distant future the Decadence of philosophy and finally the Decadence of morality, politics, and forms of communal life. To a certain extent Nietzsche can already be considered the Decadent of human thought — at least to the extent that Maupassant, in certain "final touches" of his art, can be considered the Decadent of human emotion. Like Maupassant, Nietzsche ended in madness; and in Nietzsche, just as in Maupassant, the cult of the "I" loses all restraining limits: the world, history, and the human being with his toils and legitimate demands have disappeared equally from the works of both; both were "mystic males" to a considerable degree, only one of them preferred to "flutter " above "quivering orchids," whereas the other liked to sit inside a cave or upon a mountaintop and proclaim a new religion to mankind in his capacity as the reborn "Zarathustra." The religion of the "superman," he explained. But all of them, including Maupassant, were already "supermen" in that they had absolutely no need of mankind and mankind had absolutely no need of them. On this new type of nisus formativus of human culture, so to speak, we should expect to see great oddities, great hideousness, and perhaps great calamities and dangers. ("On Symbolists And Decadents")”

Decadence Nietzsche Subjectivism Decadents Symbolist Maupassant Symbolists

Book:Silver Age of Russian Culture

Source: Silver Age of Russian Culture