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Quote by Aya Bensmaili

“Behind the eyelid of the sunset is a sleeping eye next to the one it loves, and an eye waiting for the return of the one it loves, another is filled with tears of nostalgia for whom it loves. I am waiting for your return. Emy”

Quote by Aya Bensmaili

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Aya Bensmaili

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“No one will believe you,” Augustus told Vienna, throwing at her the full fury of the dragon in his heart, “because no one but you will see them –” And now, Vienna was terrified. “Father!” “Stop this!” was the king’s demand. But there was nothing to be done. The warlock set the curse. “Not just ghosts, but men, and the broken hearts of men. I curse you!” The royal family jumped to their feet. And the warlock disappeared. Vienna stared, unmoving for some time, before turning toward her father. “Don’t look at me,” the king said. “You’re the one who upset him.” –Vienna by E. L. Schoeman”

“Had he read about Lord Lucifer? Did he know the man was him? Had he read the sinful thoughts Miss Hamilton had about him? Violet had written them too honestly and explicitly for publication. She had intended to go back and edit out some of the more wicked lines. They had been little more than girlish fantasies she had set to paper. Those lines came out to torment her now. He was depravity and his name was Lord Lucifer, the dark angel himself come to earth to tempt innocents. Rose had never so wanted to be debauched as when he gazed upon her. And this one: She stared at his mouth, the sensual lips and pink tongue licking at the drop of honey, and she longed to feel him licking at her. Oh, dear God! Neither of those were ever meant to see the light of day. She had written the last one in a heated moment after coming home from a ball where he had eaten a honey-drenched fig.”

“The strangest things about people, are the different ways that people feel loved. Really, it is very strange how one word can mean so many different things to so many different people. And then there are the unique ways how we feel forgotten and left behind... it's different for everyone, and if only we could believe one another's truths and see each other's stories when we look into one another's eyes... because that would make all the difference.”

“I wanted to be recognized in the stories I loved so badly. With ballet, it doesn't matter where you come from. It matters how good you are." "That's why you trained so hard." "Yes, but it wasn't just that." Before things were bad, my mother used to ask why I was so drawn to the sea. I told her that although the sea is dangerous beneath the surface, people still find beauty in it from above. It's still something to be adored, even if it is usually only ever loved at a distance. That's why I loved performing. For a moment, I could just be admired. Not a danger to everyone around me. Like the sea, I have a tendency to destroy things. Beautiful things. Sacred things. The sea takes things she loves--- like coral or shells--- and obliterates them to sand. I've always told myself she doesn't mean to; it's just the way she is. She can't choose when the hurricanes roll in or when the tsunamis rise. They flow out of her as they should. Maybe even in ways she doesn't understand. Ballet makes me feel like the ocean--- silently unfurling with all the rage I've buried deep down, yet still manifesting in something beautiful. For those few moments, with all eyes on me, I'm heard. Ballet tells stories, and this is how I tell mine.”