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All I Quotes

“It wasn't until I was again staring down at my own broken body that I realised whose eyes I'd been seeing through. But Rhysand didn't come any closer to my corpse, not as rushing paws- then a flash of light, then footsteps- filled the air. The beast was already gone. Amarantha's blood had vanished from his face, his tunic, as Tamlin slammed to his knees. He scooped up my limp, broken body, cradling me to his chest. He hadn't removed his mask, but I saw the tears that fell onto my filthy tunic, and I heard the shuddering sobs that broke from him as he rocked me, stroking my hair. 'No,' someone breathed- Lucien, his sword dangling from his hand. Indeed, there were many High Fae and faeries who watched with damp eyes as Tamlin held me. I wanted to get to Tamlin. I wanted to touch him, to beg for his forgiveness for what I'd done, for the other bodies on the floor, but I was so far away.”

“It wasn’t until the music came to a complete halt, and out on the dance floor a couple of the waitresses came carrying a black plaque with Amir written on it and right behind a massive bottle of champagne. Everyone around the table was dancing and completely oblivious to the extravaganza taking place in front of them. One of the waiters popped the bottle open and started to pour glasses for everyone. Tara took one but she felt a little guilty. The black plaque with Amir’s name eerily reminded her of the same black plaque they carry at funerals in Iran. It reminded her of her grandfather’s passing. They carry the card to ensure all family members see you in the chaos that is the cemetery. And here, she thought to herself, how different can one world be for two groups? One group frolic around, draped in luxury to celebrate life and the other, wail in black, to mourn death.”

“It wasn’t until the ship returned to Castine that my infraction came up as an issue to be dealt with. Once again, I sought out the council of my friendly advisor, Commander Jameson, who surprisingly had a few choice words to say and then advised that I write a statement blaming this mess on my youth and immaturity. I personally didn’t like the idea but followed his advice, along with a plea for clemency. Two long weeks later, I found myself in front of RearAdmiral William W. Warlick USN Ret. I really didn’t know what to expect. The two midshipmen that preceded me into his office were both expelled, for what seemed a minor infraction. I guess that when my turn came, he just gave up on being a hardnosed admiral. Looking me in the eye, he asked if I had learned my lesson. When I said, “Yes sir,” he waved me off with a “Don’t let me see you again.” I later learned that Jameson had talked to him, paving the way for me….”

“It wasn't until the show was almost over that I figured out what it was: the crack above my David Onica that I had asked the doorman to tell the superintendent to fix. On my way out this morning, I stopped at the front desk, about to complain to the doorman, when I was confronted with a NEW doorman, my age but balding and homely and FAT. Three glazed jelly doughnuts AND two steaming cups of extra-dark HOT CHOCOLATE lay on the desk in front of him beside a copy of the Post opened to the comics and it struck me that I was infinitely better-looking, more successful and richer than this poor bastard would ever be and so with a passing rush of sympathy I smiled and nodded a curt though not impolite good morning without lodging a complaint.”

“It wasn't you're fault," I whisper. And then out of self-protection more than anything else, I bring the glory. I don't warn him or anything. I don't damp it down. I bring it. The room fills with light. "This is what I am," I say, my hair ablaze around my head. He squints at me. his jaw juts out a little in pure stubbornness. He stands his ground "I know," he says. I take a step towards him, close the space between us, put my glowing hand against his cheek. He starts to tremble. "This is what I am," I say again and my wings are out now. His knees wobble, but he fights it. He puts his hand at my waist, turns me, pulls me closer, which surprises me. "I can accept that," he whispers, and holds his breath, and leans in to kiss me His lips brush mine for an instant, and an emotion like victory tears through him, but he pulls away and glances at the front door. Groans. Christian is standing in the doorway. "Wow," Tucker says, trying to grin. "You really know how to cramp a guy's style." His legs give out. He falls to his knees. My light blinks off.”

“It wasn't [Barack] Obama per se; it was the feeling on the ground; it was seeing an old black woman in a wheelchair being wheeled by her son waving a big American flag, and then seeing a guy with his baby in his arms saying, "I didn't want her to miss tonight! I wanted to be able to tell her!" And to see all these people, a Hispanic cop dancing with an old white woman, wow! I mean, that's the world I want to live in, and because it's the world I want to live in, I had a hard time leaving.”

“It wasn't a case of me sitting down and thinking, right then, what shall I do with my life? Airline pilot? Plumber? Guitar manufacturer? Writer .... yeah, writer. I've always loved writing, from a very early age--I guess I was writing my first stories when I was still in single digits. It progressed, and the love of writing grew in my mind and is still growing. Doing it full-time, there are different stresses and tensions, and the business side of it comes to the fore sometimes. But I still love it, and I'm always thankful that I can do what I do and make a living from it.”

“It wasn't a thing I had consciously missed, but having it now reminded me of the joy of it; that drowsy intimacy in which a man's body is accessible to you as your own, the strange shapes and textures of it like a sudden extension of your own limbs.”

“It wasn't about how she looked, which was pretty, even though she was always wearing the wrong clothes and those beat-up sneakers. It wasn't about what she said in class--usually something no one else would've thought of, and if they had, something they wouldn't have dared to say. It wasn't that she was different from all the other girls at Jackson. That was obvious. It was that she made me realize how much I was just like the rest of them, even if I wanted to pretend I wasn't.”