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Quote by Sunday Adelaja

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Sunday Adelaja
Sunday Adelaja

Sunday Adelaja is a prominent pastor known for his unique leadership style and influence. Born on May 28, 1967, he has a wide following in the Christian community, particularly in Africa and globally. more

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“He shouldn't be captivated by the sight of a tear caught on her lashes, or her perfect nose, slightly pink. Those lips were even more intriguing, so he made himself look away, staring out at the forest beyond the gazebo. He glanced down to find Ellice still looking up at him, her eyes liquid pools of chocolate. Their gaze caught and held, the seconds ticking by in solemn regularity. He felt drawn to her like a magnet. Pulling away would be a difficult task. He must for his own safety. This woman with her guileless eyes, soft heart, and lurid imagination was a danger.”

Ellice And RossEllice Traylor
Book:The Virgin of Clan Sinclair
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“For I am—or I was—one of those people who pride themselves in on their willpower, on their ability to make a decision and carry it through. This virtue, like most virtues, is ambiguity itself. People who believe that they are strong-willed and the masters of their destiny can only continue to believe this by becoming specialists in self-deception. Their decisions are not really decisions at all—a real decision makes one humble, one knows that it is at the mercy of more things than can be named—but elaborate systems of evasion, of illusion, designed to make themselves and the world appear to be what they and the world are not. This is certainly what my decision, made so long ago in Joey’s bed, came to. I had decided to allow no room in the universe for something which shamed and frightened me. I succeeded very well—by not looking at the universe, by not looking at myself, by remaining, in effect, in constant motion.”

WorldLifeDecisionVirtuePridePersonality
Book:Giovanni’s Room
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“What is being a Scot like?" Ellice heard her mother ask. 'Oh, no.' "A certain independence of spirit,"she answered before the men could. Or before the girl serving the venison could hear, take notes about Enid's snide remarks, and carry them to Brianag. "An ability to carry on despite circumstances," she continued. "Perhaps a belief in otherworldly phenomena." "Do you think we all believe in ghosts?" Gadsden asked. She glanced at him. Now was not the time to recall the feeling of her breasts pressing against his chest, of his fingers on her skin, his lips trailing kisses along her throat. Or her earlier image of him unveiling her, inch by inch. Her cheeks warmed. "Do you believe in ghosts?" she asked him. "Not the incorporeal ones," he said. "Only those of memory and mind." "Are you a haunted man?" He didn't answer her, merely sat there, his gaze steady on her. To her surprise neither her mother nor Macrath said a word. Or perhaps they did and she didn't hear anything. She was caught by his gray eyes, snared and netted until she could almost imagine she was at his feet, head bowed, swearing allegiance to him. He'd raise her up with both hands on her arms until she stood before him, clad only in her gauzy tunic. A slave brought to the man who declared himself her master.”

Ellice And Ross
Book:The Virgin of Clan Sinclair
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“She bit her lips, concentrating, wishing he'd go and sit on one of the chairs before the fireplace. Or stand at the window and watch the full moon. Anything but sit there so close she could smell the sandalwood soap he used. Night had brought a shadow of a beard to his face. He no longer looked every inch the earl, but more a coach robber, someone who would march her out to the glen and kiss her until she fell to her knees. He would show no mercy to her. Instead, he would make her beg.”

Ellice And RossRoss Forster
Book:The Virgin of Clan Sinclair
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