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Quote by Liz Braswell

“What Wendy felt was a spray of something that could only be described as golden. Light, effervescent, slightly dry. Fuzzy, like the horrible mineral waters Mother sometimes made Father take to aid his digestion. But not with the terrible metallic taste. For the brief moment she could taste anything at all, it was sweet- or no, maybe sour like lemons. No, not that, either- more like sparks from a fire.”

Quote by Liz Braswell

Book:Straight On Till Morning
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Straight On Till Morning

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Liz Braswell

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“But Peter just stood there gazing at her, mouth agape. Wendy looked down at herself; she hadn't even realized how heroic a pose she struck. From her shadow- which took this opportunity to actually behave- she realized how she appeared:powerful, strong... with a scandalously short tunic cinched around her waist and improvised leggings that showed a prodigious amount of her newly tanned skin. Her hair was down around her shoulders. She bet she was the spitting image of an Amazon, short a bow. "Gosh, Wendy, you sure look different from when I first saw you," Peter mumbled. Tinker Bell put her hands on her hips and started to jingle. "Well, I must be off," Wendy said quickly. "Bye!" And she took off into the air, like Nike, triumphant.”

AppearanceImpressedAdventurousPeter PanWendy Darling
Book:Straight On Till Morning
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“No one will ever harm you. Not ever. They may attempt to do so, but they will not survive.” He took a deep breath before his confession. “I was not aware that you were not Carpathian. I was not capable of knowing much at all at that time. I inadvertently converted you. I would like to say I am sorry, but in truth, I am not. I did not know what I was doing, and I hope I would have done it differently had I known better, but you are my life, Shea. There is no existence for me without you. I would have nothing to live for except revenge, and I would become the undead. I do not want to be vampire, preying on humans and Carpathians alike. You are my salvation.” She pushed him away from her. The rain swept over her face as she lifted emerald eyes filled with laughter to his. “That’s it? That’s your big apology? I can see you’re not going to be a candy-and-flowers man.” She set off quickly. “Don’t talk to me, you uncivilized maniac. I don’t even want to hear the sound of your voice.” Jacques forced back the smile that seemed so ready to curve his hard mouth. Shea had a way of making even dangerous situations seem a game where laughter was always close at hand. She managed to find ways to make his madness, the terrible, unforgivable way he had treated her at their first meeting, seem casual. “Can I put my arm around you?” Even while his eyes scanned, they held a gleam of merriment. “You’re talking. I said don’t talk to me.” Shea tried sticking her nose in the air, but it felt ridiculous, and she dissolved into undignified giggles. His arm curved around her slender waist and locked her under his shoulder. “I am sorry. I did not mean to speak when you asked me not to. Turn here. I’m going to have to carry you up.” “Don’t talk. You always get your way when you talk.” She walked with him a few more yards and stopped, staring up a sheer cliff face that seemed to go up forever. There had been no division between the forest and the rock face to warn her. “Up what? Not that.”

Jacques And SheaDont TalkUp What Not ThatYou Are My Salvation
Book:Dark Desire
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“Love again: wanking at ten past three (Surely he's taken her home by now?), The bedroom hot as a bakery, The drink gone dead, without showing how To meet tomorrow, and afterwards, And the usual pain, like dysentery. Someone else feeling her breasts and cunt, Someone else drowned in that lash-wide stare, And me supposed to be ignorant, Or find it funny, or not to care, Even ... but why put it into words? Isolate rather this element That spreads through other lives like a tree And sways them on in a sort of sense And say why it never worked for me. Something to do with violence A long way back, and wrong rewards, And arrogant eternity.”

Love Again
Author:Philip Larkin
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