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Quote by Arthur Miller

Author

Arthur Miller
Arthur Miller

A renowned American playwright, known for his profound social criticism and character development. His works include 'Death of a Salesman' and 'All My Sons'. more

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“Claire shook her head. “I’m not that young. In dance years I’m practically middle-aged. I can probably compete for another ten years, but once I hit thirty, I’ll be ancient. That’s why it’s so important to compete in Blackpool now, I don’t have time to waste. Once I’ve made a name for myself as a dancer, then I can relax a little and take it easy.” “And here I thought I’d been partnered with a nice young lady,” Luca joked. “Are those highlights or grey hairs?” Claire scowled. “That’s not funny.” “What’s funny is your Cuban motion,” Luca continued, “I thought your hips were stiff because you’re not used to moving them, but maybe you just have arthritis.” “Seriously,” Claire’s mouth twitched, “stop it.” “Or what, you’re going to chase after me with your cane, Grandma?”

“Looking into his eyes instead of where she was stepping, she put her foot too far to the edge of the step and as she shifted her weight forward to get onto the boat, her foot slid and she ended up falling into Chase. He caught her—also like some stupid romantic movie—but the bag she was holding whacked him in the leg and he winced. She looked down. It didn’t just hold strands of lights. There was also a big, hard plastic, gold-glitter covered star. With very sharp points. One of which was poking into his leg. Bailey quickly shifted to move the bag away from his leg but that only managed to press her hips into his. And the big, hard shape behind his fly. Her eyes flew to his face. He was looking down at her. His expression held pain, amusement, heat, and exasperation all at once. Impressively. “Sorry I’m poking you,” she said, her voice breathless. “I was going to say the same.” His grin registered before his words did.”

“He appears close to my age. The left half of his face stands out beneath the hood: one side of plump lips, one squared angle of a chin. Two coppery-colored eyes look back at me – bright and metallic. The sight makes me do a double take. As far as he is from the car, I shouldn’t be able to make out the color, yet they glimmer in the shadow of his cape, like pennies catching a flashlight’s glare in a deep well.”