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H Quotes

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All H Quotes

“He sensed the return of her restlessness. “What is it?” “Let’s do something, Gregori. Something that has nothing to do with the hunt. Something different. Something touristy.” “The streets are flooded tonight,” he pointed out. She shrugged. “I know. I was just looking at some pamphlets earlier, on all the tourist attractions here,” Savannah said nonchalantly. Gregori looked up alertly at the carefully calculated disinterest in her voice. “Did any of them seem appealing to you?” She shrugged again very casually. “Most of the more interesting ones are the day trips. Like the bayous. There’s one you can go on with someone who grew up in the bayou.” She shrugged again. “I like learning local history. I wouldn’t mind a tour of the bayou with someone who grew up there.” “You have the brochure handy?” he asked. “It isn’t important,” Savannah said with a little sigh. Tossing the packet of pamphlets onto the table, she picked up her hairbrush. Gregori took it out of her hand. “If you want a proper tour of the bayou, Savannah, then we will go.” “I like to do the tourist thing,” Savannah admitted with a slight smile. “It’s kind of fun to ask questions and learn new things.” “I bet you are very good at it,” he answered her, slowly running the brush through the blue-black length of her hair. It crackled with a life of its own, refusing to be tamed. He gathered it into his hands just to feel how soft and silky it was. Over her shoulder, his pale gaze rested on the brochure she had put to one side. If Savannah wanted a tour, he would move heaven and earth to get her one. “We do not always go chasing after vampires and the mortal assassins plaguing our people,” he began diplomatically. “I know. They turn up everywhere we go,” she agreed. He tugged at a tangle in her glossy hair. “When you first proposed to come to New Orleans, we had hoped the society members would follow us and leave Aidan and his people in peace. Is that not what you wanted?” “Not particularly,” she admitted with a flash of her blue eyes. “I was only trying to get you to come here. You know, classic honeymoon. Sweet young wife teaches wizened old grouch how to have fun. That sort of thing.” “Wizened old grouch?” he echoed in astonishment. “The old part I can accept, even the grouch. But I am definitely not wizened.” In punishment he tugged her hair. “Ow!” She swung around and glared indignantly at him. “Wizened sort of seemed to fit. You know, wizard, wizened.”

“He senses something wrong. He sees nothing, hears nothing, yet feels surrounded, then enveloped, by a presence of undiluted evil. He is immobilized. Then a savage merging of oblivion and agony, as if buried alive in a living expanse of living, malignant soil invading the self, violating him, becoming him. Every fiber, every atom, strains with the effort to expel it, to escape.”

“He sentido el amor de un desconocido, la ayuda de un enemigo, la protección de una madre, el compañerismo, la felicidad de una familia, la generosidad del que apenas tiene. He visto crecer la amistad y el amor en lugares en los que ni siquiera las plantas se atreven a asomarse... He visto las dos caras del ser humano: el amor y el odio, el respeto y la violencia, la amistad y la traición, la generosidad y la codicia... el ser humano es capaz de elegir una de esas dos caras”

“He set a raspberry cheese slice wrapped in parchment paper on the counter and she slid it off, biting off the corner with an "mmm." Her eyes closed as she chewed and swallowed, taking another large bite with an even more audible sigh. "That is indecent," Steph said. He wished he could figure out the rest of their names, but at least time was on his side again. "It is indecent in the very best way," she said. "Everything tastes ten times better than it ever did before." She held out the pastry to each of her friends so they could taste, all nodding in agreement. Most patrons didn't eat their treats while still in the building, and it was wildly satisfying to witness her enjoyment, titillating even. Parts of him tightened that hadn't tightened in response to another person in much too long. One of the friends pointed out the fleck of glaze perched on her lip and she licked it into her mouth. Talk about indecent. He placed both of his hands on top of the pastry case to steady himself, his knees suddenly unstable like he'd spent a morning moving bags of flour from the kitchen to the cellar. He was grateful the apron covered the front of him.”

“He set down the coffee and placed another log for splitting. Another biting cold wind blew through the trees, and he pulled his red stocking cap down more over his ears, and pulled up the collar of his wool-lined denim jacket. He had neglected to shave for a few weeks now, and was sporting a beard; and his light brown hair was even beginning to grow over his collar. If my old drill instructor from Parris Island could see me now, he’d kick my ass across the barracks, Jeff mused.”

“He set his chin on her head. "I am sorry, I am so sorry," he repeated, feeling her tears dampening his uniform shoulder. "Why are YOU sorry? I was the one who wanted to sneak onto that ship. I was the one who led you into danger. I KILLED you--" He pushed her away from him. "No," he said, looking into her eyes so she would understand. "I went because I wanted to." "You went because you ALWAYS go," she argued, "and I always lead you into trouble." "Because I will follow you anywhere," he insisted. "To the ends of the galaxy, if I have to. I want to exist where you exist, and that is enough.”

“He set his whisky tumbler on the table, but kept his fingers around it. "What do you see in my eyes?"... "Tell me, lass," he urged softly. She suddenly understood the term 'old soul,' because one sat before her now. And, as if opening a book, she caught a glimpse of Asher. The words then tumbled out of her mouth. "Endlessness. Sorrow. Agony. Distress. Rage.”

“He settled a hand over her stomach, rubbing in soothing circles. “Lie easy, sweetheart.” “I c-can’t. Oh, do hurry!” Cam laughed softly, his parted lips dragging across her sensitive flesh. He traced her with his tongue, made her wet, and blew against the dampened curls. “It’s better for you if I don’t hurry.” “No it’s not.” “Much you know about it. This is only your second time.”

“He shakes his head furiously. “I won’t go to her Nell. I can’t because I don’t want her, and I haven’t for a long time. I belong to you and the only woman that I see is you, and that’s never going to change. I want you for everything that makes you mine. I want what we were building on tour but I want it for always – us together laughing, talking and making love. We were a team and we looked out for each other. At the end of the day you’ve changed me in so many ways there is no way that I can go back to the old me.” He pauses and then straightens and his voice firms. “I don’t want to go back. I want to go forward, but only with you.”

“He shakes his head. "They're hunting the Enkis. I know that. And I get that. But . . . we're special." "The reason they want them is because they're special. Anchovies aren't going to cure anyone." "That's not the special I mean." He catches another fish and hugs it to his chest. I'm trying to be gentle. "They're only special to you because they're yours." "I could say the same thing about that cute kid you were holding." Well, shit.”

“He shifted his weight, throwing his good leg off the bed as if he were going to try to stand. “What are you doing?” I demanded through the tears. “Lie down, you idiot, you’ll hurt yourself!” I jumped to my feet and pushed his good shoulder down with two hands. He surrendered, leaning back with a gasp of pain, but he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me down on the bed, against his good side. I curled up there, trying to stifle the silly sobs against his hot skin.”

“He shifted over without comment, lifting the blankets, and I scrambled into the warm sheets beside him. He smelled like soap and sleep and bare skin. He smelled familiar. Not the deja vu familiar of Guy or Mel. Familiar like...the ache in your chest of homesickness, of longing for harbor after weeks of rough seas or craving a fire's warmth after snow--or wanting back something you should never have given away.”