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Quote by Stephanie Witter

“He tilted my head up with his index finger. Tingles spread on my skin. "Pain, obstacles, betrayal and all shitty things that happen in life shape everyone, just as much as good things do. Don't regret anything if in the end you can say you're an amazing woman.”

Quote by Stephanie Witter

Book:2B or Not 2B?
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2B or Not 2B?

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Stephanie Witter

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“No." I pulled away just enough to lock my eyes with his. His crooked smile sent shivers down my spine. His eyes were a deep blue darkening more as the minutes passing between us were getting hotter. "I will be the one using you, and you'll love every second, every breath, every stroke and every fucking inch of me," he said, his lips ghosting above mine.”

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Book:2B or Not 2B?
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“He nibbled on my lower lip again and pulled away, his breathing loud and labored. I opened my eyes and met two blue orbs so dark with desire that it almost made me lose all train of thought and strip naked. His lips were red and a little swollen from our kiss. And I'd be damned if I didn't want to nibble on his lower lip, too.”

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Book:2B or Not 2B?
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“There was something behind the glass, behind her reflection and the wash of clouded sky above her. She gazed past the surface, as though she were looking deep into clear water, ignoring the ripples and movements on the surface to search out what lived beneath. A tree, she realized, bending in a faint breeze, draped with purple leaves like streamers. Pure-silver flowers winked and sparkled in the deep foliage, swinging gently like bells, though Alaine couldn't hear anything. She gazed deeper, drinking in the beauty of a silver mist of moss on the ground, of a tangle of pale branches woven into knot-work unnaturally symmetrical, down to thorns bowing deeply to one another in vine-wrought curls. Something moved in the purple-and-silver forest, a figure, sliding like mist through the boughs. A woman--- Alaine started. She was tall and slim, shaped more than anything like a birch tree, with the same silver-pale gleam. Her hair was loose behind her, wound through with purple flowers, painfully bright against her fair waves. She looked up, gazing right at Alaine, almost meeting her eyes--- And then the mirror shattered in her hands.”

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Book:The Fairy Bargains of Prospect Hill
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“....a tirade against Paolo Sorrentino’s film The Great Beauty........It struck me. But what struck me even more was what happened a few months later, when I finally saw the film and, at the same time, got to know him better. And I realized he was exactly one of the characters Sorrentino had portrayed: obsessed with appearances, caught up in social rituals, incapable of deep desire. A man tired on the inside, moving through the world like an actor on a stage with no more script. That’s when I understood: it wasn’t the film that had disturbed him. It was the reflection it had given him. He had recognized himself — and that had frightened him. That kind of fear that makes you say: “How dare you judge me?” when in reality, no one has judged you. You’ve simply seen yourself. And sometimes, seeing ourselves is far more unsettling than being seen.”

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Book:The Island of What Could Have Been: Back to the Middle Lands
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