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H Quotes

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All H Quotes

“He continued with his research until he found a book entitled The Ultimate Dating Guide: How To Find The Perfect Girlfriend and Keep Them. He flipped through the contents and found the chapter called flirting with confidence. He took out a pen and notebook from his back pocket and scribbled some notes. Praise her body the book advised. Tell her you find her attractive. He decided he would record the key phrases and chose the right moment to recite these to Katie. He wrote you have come to bed eyes. Your eyes were the key to the soul and I like what I see”

“He conveyed a strange impression of being in safety, and completely secure. He had a courteous little manner with him, and smiled and nodded, as I pointed out the hills and the tall trees to him, as if he were interested in everything, and incapable of surprise at anything. I wondered if this consistency was produced by an entire ignorance of the evil of the world, or by a deep knowledge and acceptance of it.”

“He cooks from his heart. From his soul." A pause, where I took in his words. "That is, when he is not drawing." That was a surprise. "Drawing?" "He draws little comics," the bartender said. He disappeared down below the bar again. This time when he popped up, he was holding what looked like an old menu. "Look." I took the menu and flipped through. Yes, it listed various dishes and their prices. But the artist---Luke---had doodled all over it, tiny pictures of the food, wavy lines of steam rising over bowls of rice specks and eggs, and slightly larger pictures of the people enjoying them as elaborate anime characters: their eyes enormous, little strings of drool slipping from the corners of mouth slashes, frizzled lines of movement showing their frenzy as they dove through the menu categories looking for more food. "This is adorable," I said with some surprise. I hadn't pictured Luke, with his posh accent that slipped out when he wasn't paying attention and his buttoned-up fancy restaurants, drawing cartoons. "Yes," the bartender said. "Adorable.”

“He coughed, and spit dust. “Oh…just a fight,” he said. He grinned up at her from one side of his face; his right eye was already half swollen shut. “I was doing all right for about half a minute, but after that it was all the other way.” “There were two of them,” said his friend Tripp hotly. “It wasn’t a fight; they just beat him up.” “Billy and Ames,” supplied Mark, somewhat muffled by the wet cloth being applied to his split lip. “Dunno what got into ’em—just decided they didn’t like me, I guess.”

“He could do little. Brandy might help, he thought, but when he poured some into the hurt man’s mouth it ran back out again. Presently a colonel, Johnston’s chief of staff, came hurrying into the ravine. But he could do nothing either. He knelt down facing the general. “Johnston, do you know me? Johnston, do you know me?” he kept asking, over and over, nudging the general’s shoulder as he spoke. But Johnston did not know him. Johnston was dead.”

“He could do the dextral pain the same way: Abiding. Here was a second right here: he endured it. What was undealable-with was the thought of all the instants all lined up and stretching ahead, glittering. And the projected future fear. ... It's too much to think about. To Abide there. But none of it's as of now real. ... He could just hunker down in the space between each heartbeat and make each heartbeat a wall and live in there. Not let his head look over. What's unendurable is what his own head could make of it all. ... But he could choose not to listen.”

“He could feel himself gliding down like the sail of a weightless craft, forever plunging into the great beyond below where mermaids sing and summon their lovers home, further down into the depths of some complacent serenity, further down where thoughts float away and never return and the lightness is so grand that there is no other worldly place imaginable, for there is no world left to be considered. There is only the soul, free from the prison of the body, and it is released to travel another millennium through time, carrying with it the progress and industry gathered from the mind previously occupied.”

“He could feel himself hardening. It was her certainty. Her calm acceptance that she was interested in such things. In sex. His cock jerked. He licked his lips. "And then?" "That depends." She smiled a secret smile. One that had been used by women ever since mankind had set foot on earth. "If I had a lover, I would tell him what I wanted." "Just like that?" he asked, his voice lowered. She nodded. "Just like that." "What if he didn't want what you want?" "Then he could say so, couldn't he?" She shrugged. "I suppose we wouldn't match. Wouldn't be compatible. In which case, I should have to find a man who was aroused by my needs." Her gaze dropped from his face, trailing slowly over his chest and belly to pause at the falls to his breeches. Where his cock strained to be released. She stared, and he'd never felt anything so erotic. Just her, frankly observing him. She must be able to see the outline of his erection even as it pulsed with new blood. His libido laid bare to her for as long she pleased. Every muscle in his body tensed, restrained, unable to move unless she said so. She sighed softly. "I'd search for a man who yearned for me and what I want. Who craved my touch. A man who put my pleasure above his own." Her gaze rose until she met his eyes. "Perhaps a man like you.”

“He could feel it immediately when his shoulder snapped - the intense pain of his bones cracking. His skin tightened, as if it could no long hold whatever was lurking inside him. The breath was sucked from his lungs like he was being crushed. His vision began to blur, and he had the sensation he was falling, even though he could feel the rock tearing at his flesh as his body seized on the ground.”

“He could feel V's eyes sharpen, the vampire's fierce intellect churning over the situation. Among the brothers, Vishous had the most raw brainpower, but he paid for the privilage. Man, Wrath sure had his own demons, and they were no walk in the park, but he wouldn't have wanted Vishous's cross to bear. Seeing what had yet to come was a terrible burden. -Wrath's thoughts”

“He could find humor in anything. He taught me that the Craft can be light hearted as well and that if something funny happens you are allowed to laugh. So many people take themselves so seriously. There are so many Craft people who never smile. I don't understand it. The Craft is supposed to be joyful. Galetea pauses and then says quietly, 'But magical work was never a joke -Alex taught me that when you do it, you do it seriously.”