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Quote by Suzanne Brockmann

“Savannah, I’ve been talking my ass off for more than an hour now, telling you shit no one’s ever heard anything about, hoping that I’ll say something, Jesus God, anything that will convince you to have sex with me.”

Quote by Suzanne Brockmann

Work

Out of Control

This book delves into the intricate nature of complex systems, examining their chaotic and often uncontrollable nature. It investigates the principles that govern these systems and their potential implications across various fields. more

Author

Suzanne Brockmann
Suzanne Brockmann

Suzanne Brockmann is an American author known for her romance novels. Born in 1960, she began writing in 1992 and has published numerous works since then. Her novels are renowned for their passionate plots and well-crafted characters. more

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“I may enter a zone of transcendence, in which I marvel at all the accidents of fate, since the beginning of life on earth, that led to my genes being created and my standing in this particular garden in a contemplative and imagining mind. I’ve been reading recently how reflection evolved. what a fascinating solution to the rigors of survival…how amazing that a few basic ingredients- the same ones that form the mountains, plants, and rivers- when arranged differently and stressed could result in us. More and more of late, I find myself standing outside of life, with a sense of the human saga laid out before me. it is a private vision, balanced between youth and old age, a vision in which I understand how caught up in striving we humans get, and a little of why, and how difficult it is even to recognize, since it feels integral to our nature and is. but I find it interesting that, according to many religions, life and begins and ends in a garden.”

“While the egg yolks cooled, he directed the beaters at the egg whites, setting the mixer on high speed that sent small bubbles giggling to the side of the bowl, where a few became many until they were a white froth rising up and then lying down again in patters and ridges, leaving an intricate design like the ribs of a leaf in the wake of the beaters”

“In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name. But now is black beauty’s successive heir, And beauty slandered with a bastard shame. For since each hand hath put on nature’s pow'r, Fairing the foul with art’s false borrowed face, Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bow'r, But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace. Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black, Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack, Sland'ring creation with a false esteem. Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe, That every tongue says beauty should look so.”