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H Quotes

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All H Quotes

“Her scent filled his nostrils. He was shocked to feel his throat tighten with a primal hunger. She smelled like her mother, but fresher, sweeter somehow. Some primitive male instinct warned him this was a bloom still on the vine, fragrant and tender and ripe. He scowled. She might be nectar to a another man, but to a MacDonnell, Dougal Cameron's daughter would be more deadly than nightshade.”

“Her scent was there, swirling all around him. It was feminine, but not elegant. Not like flowers or the spring air, but rather like an autumn breeze, weaving its way through branches well on their way to winter slumber. It was the scent of a fall evening casting its glow over a serene lake. It was the smell of sunset, something he hadn’t seen in so long.”

“Her seductive power, however, did not lie in her looks [...]. In reality, Cleopatra was physically unexceptional and had no political power, yet both Caesar and Antony, brave and clever men, saw none of this. What they saw was a woman who constantly transformed herself before their eyes, a one-woman spectacle.Her dress and makeup changed from day to day, but always gave her a heightened, goddesslike appearance. Her words could be banal enough, but were spoken so sweetly that listeners would find themselves remembering not what she said but how she said it.”

“Her sensation There I was inspecting the landscape of my emotions, Most of them appeared to be conduit sensations, With layers of feelings that definitely were a part of me, And in this place for a moment I wanted to be, For it reminded me of her, The feelings made me miss her, The emotions made me once again fall in love with her, And it was only in this landscape that I felt I was with her, Although it sometimes begot me sensations unknown, They never prevented me from recreating her beauty so fresh and so well known, It was a world where her beauty’s precision filled every void, The only place where to throb and then feel, my heart never toiled, Because here everything brought me closer to her, The feelings, the emotions, all reminded me of her, And my memories too, because they all carried a part of her, Here no time existed, no present, no past, no beginning and no end, because everything had converged into her, Her landscape of beautiful smiles, Her feelings that stretched for million miles, It was she who ruled this universe, And it was only here my heart with her mind whispered and could easily converse, Nothing could be as beautiful as her, All summer flowers, all the blue skies, seem to emerge from her, When you look at her, you realise everything belongs to her, So why shouldn't I too belong to her and love her? These inviolable feelings possess me gradually, And I take my last glance at this landscape lovingly, For now I too have become a part of it, And now the vision is clear, sensations aren't conduit, Because the landscape that represents her, I am a part of it now as I keep seeping deeper into her, Into her permeable heart, into the world that exists only because of her, And as my last cell sinks into her, I now feel the sensation that belongs to her, The landscape may have vanished now forever, But my love for her has experienced no sort of waiver, Because I love her for no reasons, for no interests, I love her for who she is, And in this long disappeared landscape I still find her there, because that is where my heart is, Even if it is a credulity that my mind suffers from, but as long as it is about her, My heart shall derive from it intelligible strings, just to love her, Because then nothing feels like this sensation, the sensation that belongs to her, Her name mabe Irma, but I love the woman in her, that beautiful sensation in her!”

“Her sensation There I was inspecting the landscape of my emotions, Most of them appeared to be conduit sensations, With layers of feelings that definitely were a part of me, And in this place for a moment I wanted to be, For it reminded me of her, The feelings made me miss her, The emotions made me once again fall in love with her, And it was only in this landscape that I felt I was with her, Although it sometimes begot me sensations unknown, They never prevented me from recreating her beauty so fresh and so well known, It was a world where her beauty’s precision filled every void, The only place where to throb and then feel, my heart never toiled, Because here everything brought me closer to her, The feelings, the emotions, all reminded me of her, And my memories too, because they all carried a part of her, Here no time existed, no present, no past, no beginning and no end, because everything had converged into her, Her landscape of beautiful smiles, Her feelings that stretched for million miles, It was she who ruled this universe, And it was only here my heart with her mind whispered and could easily converse, Nothing could be as beautiful as her, All summer flowers, all the blue skies, seem to emerge from her, When you look at her, you realise everything belongs to her, So why shouldn't I too belong to her and love her? These inviolable feelings possess me gradually, And I take my last glance at this landscape lovingly, For now I too have become a part of it, And now the vision is clear, sensations aren't conduit, Because the landscape that represents her, I am a part of it now as I keep seeping deeper into her, Into her permeable heart, into the world that exists only because of her, And as my last cell sinks into her, I now feel the sensation that belongs to her, The landscape may have vanished now forever, But my love for her has experienced no sort of waiver, Because I love her for no reasons, for no interests, I love her for who she is, And in this long disappeared landscape I still find her there, because that is where my heart is, Even if it is a credulity that my mind suffers from, but as long as it is about her, My heart shall derive from it intelligible strings, just to love her, Because then nothing feels like this sensation, the sensation that belongs to her, Her name may be Irma, but I love the woman in her, that beautiful sensation in her!”

“Her sense of artistry reached even as far as her plating and presentation... arranging her tarts in a woven basket like a bouquet of flowers. The sight of her bringing them to us was like a scene straight out of a fairy tale! Yes... she too... is like a character straight from fantasy. A fairy godmother who casts her spells on ordinary ingredients... ... turning them into beautiful and delicious princesses of food! All who take a bite of her apples... ... fall under her spell... ... and are transported into a land of dreams!”

“Her shadow stretches out ahead - too long, its edges already blurring - and small white flowers tumble from her hair, littering the ground like stars. A constellation left in her wake, almost like the one across her cheeks. Seven freckles. One for every love she'd have, that's what Estele had said, when the girl was still young. One for every life she'd lead. One for every god watching over her. Now they mock her, those seven marks. Promises. Lies. She's had no loves, she's lived no lives, she's met no gods, and now she is out of time.”

“Her silence didn't seem to bother him. "Your drawings are brilliant, Miss Makepeace. You're quite talented." "My drawings are brilliant?" What about my smile? What about my eyes? "Yes," he said. "Detailed, accurate, yet still singular and strangely..." he looked upward for a moment, seeking a clean slate for his thought, then returned his eyes to her. "... passionate." He all but purred that last word, his eyes dancing with mirth, and for the life of her, she didn't know what to say. Susannah studied him warily instead, since his face was the one part of his body she hadn't yet sketched in vivid detail. His features were too strong, perhaps, to be considered classically handsome; his face was a bit too long and angular, like a diamond, his nose slightly arched. Light brows, light lashes, and those disconcerting eyes. But in the midst of all those angles, his mouth was a work of art; wide, sensitively curved, indisputably masculine. And of course, the rest of him was beautifully made, too. Almost overwhelmingly so. God help her, she could feel color setting fresh fire to her cheeks at the memory.”

“Her sister [June Havoc] said the musical portrayed who Gypsy [Rose Lee] wanted to be before the burlesque thing happened she wanted to be this beautiful, romantic person with dreams. So Gypsy told the story of her life as she wished she'd lived it: embellishing, softening the edges, eliminating certain things altogether.”

“Her sister gave her a reassuring smile. “Come,” she said softly and Genevieve’s throat worked. How many times as children had she come to Gillian’s aid during her madcap schemes? In an utter role reversal, rescue should now be conferred by her younger sister. “Thank you,” she managed. “If you smile and hold your chin up, they stare less,” Gillian said, widening her smile. “And if you laugh, then it really confounds them.” With that, she tossed back her head and laughed.”