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Quote by Matthew Leeth

“You’re just spooked. It’s Halloween; we’re all kind of spooked. That’s just the way it is. - Tory”

Quote by Matthew Leeth

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Matthew Leeth

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“There are two primary strains in the Conservative Party: grocers, and grandees. … By ‘grandees’ and ‘grocers’, I am not referring to social class or any of that; nor do I refer to the Worshipful Company of Grocers, all cloves and camels. I refer rather to two fundamental positions within the Conservative Party, regardless of one’s antecedents. … A grandee Conservative sees the country as a village: a village of which he and his party, when in government, act the Squire. As the Squire, the grandee moves jovially amongst his tenants in their tied cottages, dispensing largesse and reproof…. There are two problems with this model. The first is that HMG is not the Squire and the subjects of the Crown are not the smocked tenantry of the government of the day. The second is that these principles – or instincts, as one can hardly call them principles – however different they may be to the fiercely held maxims of Labour old and new, lead in the end to the same statist solutions as those the Left proposes, and to accepting and ‘managing’ statism when a Conservative government succeeds a Labour one. It is the grocers who will always and rightly attempt to roll back the State and its reach in favour of liberty.”

PoliticsConservatismLabour Party UkToryConservative Party Uk
Author:G.M.W. Wemyss
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“Do you have a pirate fetish or something?” I blurted, eyeing the coins and gold with confusion. “What?” he asked, his scowl somehow defying the laws of physics and finding a way to deepen. “Well, you’re half naked in a bed full of coins so either you’re doing something with them or putting them somewhere...inaccessible while fully dressed or I missed the memo about your enrolment in Captain Silver’s new fleet.” A beat of silence passed as his gaze dragged over me. “You really don’t know anything do you?” he asked. “This is how my kind regenerate our power; from gold.” “Oh.” I frowned at the coins again as I processed that. “So, are you Order of pirate then? Do you transform into a one-legged man with an eyepatch, a hankering for rum and a pet parrot?”

DariusToryOrder Of The PiratePirate Fetish
Book:The Awakening
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“Let me stay with you, Ash." Ash couldn't breathe as he understood what she was asking. What she needed. And for the first time in eternity, he was willing to bleed in order to give her life. "Are you sure?" She nodded. He brushed his hair aside and tilted his neck for her. Closing his eyes, he braced himself for the pain of her bite. For the hated sensation of her breath on his neck while she fed. Tory paused as she felt him go rigid. It took her a second to realize why. Ash couldn't stand to have anyone breathe on his neck and yet there he sat, offering himself to her without complaint of comment. In that moment she loved him all the more. And with her newfound senses, she knew his neck wasn't the only pace she could feed from ... Ash opened his eyes as she moved away from him. Frowning, he watched as she dipped down and bit into his inner thigh. he sucked his breath in sharply as a wave of desire blinded him and hardened his cock which was only a few inches from her mouth. But greater than that was the shock that she hadn't grabbed his hair and hurt him while she fed from his neck. She was being gentle and considerate, and when she looked up at him, her eyes matched his. That deep swirling silver that he hated so much was beautiful on her. They were bound together now. His powers. His blood. They were hers too. But even so, he wanted her as she'd been. Kissing her lips, he turned her yes back to the brown color that had stolen his heart the first time she'd looked around the room in nervous panic. This was the woman he loved. The one he couldn't live without.”

GentleAshBoundTory
Author:Sherrilyn Kenyon
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“A veces llueve, y a veces el viento arrastra papeles en calles protegidas, se apagan luces y tiemblan sombras. La radio ronronea inagotable noticias, melodías solicitadas y bobos anuncios de Lavaman en el húmedo patio de la pensión. La línea. «No la cruces nunca», me decía Ballesta. «En el otro lado de la línea te equivocas, elijas el sentido que elijas», insistía Ballesta. «La tarea no consiste ya en no equivocarse, sino en ocultarte», aconsejaba Ballesta. La línea.”

Mistakes We MakeWatusi
Book:El idioma imposible
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“El día del Watusi fue el 15 de agosto de 1971. Aún no era septiembre y ya habíamos ocupado la portería en la que iba a trabajar mi madre, un sótano próximo al gran templo que bautiza el barrio donde impone su sombra. Toda la ciudad, y no sólo las familias de comerciantes y empleados a los que ella iba a servir, comulgaba en un exagerado afecto por la quimera arquitectónica. Eran incesantes las cuestaciones populares para que ese delirio creciera aún más. «¡Ya tenemos cinco torres! Ya tenemos seis!», exclamaba la población con entusiasmo.”

First SentenceWatusiCatalanes Ricos
Author:Francisco Casavella
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