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Quote by Laura Dockrill

“Not that it matters an awful amount in the grand play of things. And it is play. All of it. It's not real. You have to live your life like you're pretending. An actor living a character's life. Otherwise you won't take risks. You won't live.”

Quote by Laura Dockrill

Book:Lorali

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Lorali

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Laura Dockrill

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“That there is a Godhead, Ground, Brahman, Clear Light of the Void, which is the unmanifested principle of all manifestations. That the Ground is at once transcendent and immanent. That it is possible for human beings to love, know and, from virtually, to become actually identical with the divine Ground. That to achieve this unitive knowledge of the Godhead is the final end and purpose of human existence.”

“She cleared her throat, let go of the rail, and stood up straighter. “Because I have come here today to ask you to marry me.” His lips twitched. “It is not funny,” she cried. It was, of course, but she did not wish to be laughed at. Particularly when he had not answered. “You must admit, it is a little funny. To an outside party, we must be exceedingly comical.” “Yes, well, it is the worry of an outside party that is the reason we are here in the first place,” she muttered, looking down at her feet. A finger was placed gently under her chin, lifting her head up. “Pray, continue.” His dark eyes were serious, his lips playful. It was an irresistible combination. “It is the first time I have been proposed to and I must admit I find the experience intriguing.” Her eyes flashed. “I have already asked. It is now your turn to answer.” His amused expression deepened. “Oh, no. You have not asked. You merely announced your intention to ask. There is a large difference between stating the purpose of your visit and posing the question. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I am very disappointed, Philip,” she said, still stern. “I know, Cherry,” he accepted. “But… she did claim she was my wife.” “She did,” she acknowledged. “Knowing nothing of your history or who you were, she did say such a foolish thing.”

“Refusing to meet his eyes, she looked at his mouth instead. It was a beautiful mouth for a man, she had to admit. Full and sensual, yet masculine. A layer of dark stubble coated the bottom half of his face. Apparently, Mr. Calvert did not shave as frequently when he traveled. There was something rather erotic about the contrast between the alluring lips and the rough dark hair. Something which almost made her want to run a finger over his skin, to touch those lips, to feel that layer of stubble. Would it be rough to the touch or was it softer than it looked?”