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Quote by Mokokoma Mokhonoana

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Mokokoma Mokhonoana

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“In another life, we might have spent this evening nestled in a corner table at some café, drinking good Bordeaux, listening to Chet Baker, discussing hypothetical trips to the Greek islands or the construction of a backyard greenhouse where we would consider the merits of growing a lemon (or avocado?) tree in a pot and sit under a bougainvillea vine like the one my mom planted the year I turned eleven, before my dad left. Jazz. Santorini. Lemon trees. Beautiful, loving details, none of which matter anymore. Not in this life, anyhow. That chapter has ended. No, the book has.”

What Could Have BeenDream Love
Book:All the Flowers in Paris
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“Gentlemen,” the king called out, “and ladies, First Meal is getting cold.” Which was the cue for everyone to head back to the dining room and actually eat what had been only studiously ignored up until now. With Payne safe and at home, appetites were free to roam once more . . . although as God was his witness he was not going to think about what the hell that surgeon and his sister were no doubt about to get into. As he groaned, Jane tightened her arm around his waist. “Are you all right?” He glanced down at his shellan. “I don’t think my sister is old enough to have sex.” “V, she’s the same age you are.” He frowned for a moment. Was she? Or had he been born first? Yeah, only one place to go for the answer to that. Shit, he hadn’t even thought of his mother in all this. And now that he was . . . he had absolutely no desire or interest to pop up there and announce that Payne was doing great, fuck you very much. Nope. If the Scribe Virgin wanted to keep tabs on what her “children” were up to? She could look into those fakakta seeing bowls she liked so much. He kissed his shellan. “I don’t care what the calendar says or about the birth order. That’s my baby sister, and she’s never going to be old enough to . . . ‘um, yeah.’ ” Jane laughed and retucked herself under his arm. “You are a very sweet male.” “Nah.” “Yeah.” Leading her into the dining room and over to the table, he gallantly pulled her chair out for her, and then he sat to her left so that she was at his dagger hand. - Vishous & Jane”

SexBrotherJaneHahaVishousPayneBaby SisterNot Old Enough
Book:Lover Unleashed
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“I don’t remember the whole thing, because it was very long, but Atticus recited it for me once, and there was a line that went like this: “Cry ham hock and let slip the hogs of war!” I know you might not agree, but for me that was the best thing Shakespeare ever wrote." You mean, “Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war” from Julius Caesar? "No, I don’t think that’s it. There was ham in there; I’m sure he was talking about ham. They were going to battle hunger." I think you might have been hungry when you heard it, Oberon.”

FunnyHumourShakespeareOberonKevin HearneGranuaileIron Druid
Book:Hunted
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“I dispelled my invisibility for a few seconds in his full view, a finger resting provocatively on my lower lip, giving him a come-hither look under a streetlight. His jaw and the bottle of Żubrówka dropped at the same time. It shattered, drawing his eyes to the sidewalk, and I took the opportunity afforded by his distraction to disappear again. "That was mean," Oberon said, watching the man look wildly around for me and pawing at his eyes as if to clear them. Why? I asked. I’ve done him no harm. "Yes, you have. You will haunt him for the rest of his life. I know from experience." You’re haunted by someone flashing you on a street corner? "No. It was a dog park. Atticus and I were just arriving and she was leaving." Oh, here we go. "She was so fit and her coat was tightly curled and she had a perfect pouf on the end of her tail like a tennis ball. I saw her for maybe five seconds, until she hopped into a Honda and her human drove her away. And now I can’t see a Honda without seeing her." But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Kind of romantic? A vision of perfection you can treasure forever, unspoiled by reality. "Well, I don’t know. In reality I’d like to try spoiling her, if she was in the mood." Look, Oberon, that man is lonely. He’s too skinny and sweaty, and I’m willing to bet you five cows that he’s socially awkward or he wouldn’t be staggering drunk at this hour. But now, for the rest of his life, he will remember the na**d woman on the street who looked at him with desire. When people treat him like something untouchable, he will have that memory to comfort him. "Or obsess over. What if he starts wandering the streets every night looking for you?" Then he’s misunderstood the nature of beauty. It doesn’t stay, except in our minds. "Oh! I think I see. That’s true, Clever Girl! Sausage never stays, because I eat it, but it’s always beautiful in my mind.”

PhilosophyBeautyHuntedOberonKevin HearneGranuaile
Book:Hunted
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