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“You look like you’ve been on a month-long bender. Have you?” “No, Ken, I have not. I’ve just had a long week.” Walked the streets of a city bathed in blood and stood amid a hundred thousand corpses. Negotiated a three-way peace treaty among opposing factions of a warring alien species who’d previously held me captive. Bullied the Metigen leadership into doing my bidding. Found out we’re not the real humans, and the real humans are currently enslaving the real universe. Oh, and I think I’m addicted to my ship. How was your week? “Nothing a shower and some food won’t fix.”

“You look like you were getting under Rhys's skin,' she said, strutting to her seat between us. 'Good thing I came along. Though I'd enjoy seeing Rhys's balls nailed to the wall.' Rhys slid incredulous eyes to her, his brows lifting. I hid the smile that tugged on my lips. 'It's- nice to meet you.' 'Liar,' Mor said, pouring herself some tea and loading her plate. 'You want nothing to do with us, do you? And wicked Rhys is making you sit here.”

“You look lousy,' he said. Jace blinked. 'Seems an odd time to start an insult contest, but if you insist, I could probably think up something good.' 'No I mean it. You don't look good.' 'This is from a guy ho has all the sex appeal of a penguin. Look, I realize you may be jealous that the good Lord didn't deal you the same chiseled hand he dealt me, but that's no reason to-' 'I am not trying to insult you.' Simon snapped.”

“You look... lovely,' he said, and my stomach dipped in the most pleasant way possible. He turned to Tawny. 'As do you.' Tawny smiled. 'Thank you.' He glanced at Vikter. 'You, as well.' Vikter snorted, and I smiled, while Tawny giggled. 'You do look exceptionally handsome tonight, ' she said, an I swore Vikter's cheeks deepened in colour as I turned back to the dais.”

“You look much better,” she said. “You should be out of here and causing trouble in no time.” A tired amusement lit her eyes. “Not anymore. No magic left, so no more trouble.” She sobered. “True. You can’t access the power source. Your glass magic is gone.” She covered my hand with hers. “Does that upset you?” “No. I’m relieved. Now I’m just a regular nobody. No longer a problem. No longer a danger. No longer useful to Sitia.” Zitora squeezed. “I won’t agree to any of those statements. You will never be a ‘regular nobody.’ Your deeds for Sitia have extended beyond the regular and into the extraordinary.”

“You look on the Internet, and people are transforming themselves on a daily basis, and it's not a superficial thing, it's not a vain thing, and it's not an "I don't like the way I look" thing. It's people truly being creative. It's a way of making your mark and making a statement, and I love that. Beauty is making a statement in whichever way you choose to do so, and I think that's a beautiful thing.”

“You look out into the audience and you see so much joy on people's faces. You make eye contact with people who are almost crying because they can't believe they're seeing the Rumours five back again, they can't believe their eyes. It's almost like a family reunion on stage, there's no angst, there's no animosity, there's just tremendous amount of friendship.”

“You look rather thirsty," a voice says from behind me, and I turn to face Benediction de la Lucia--the Devil himself. He is a striking man; his long, orange-red hair is as bright as a tropical sunset, and his skin is like freshly-fallen snow. His large, expressive eyes hold all colors, and I feel myself being drawn into them. "G-good evening," I stammer. "I was just looking for--" "I know whom you seek," he purrs "although I was hoping that you would agree to spend a little time with me, first." He tucks a wad of bills into my vest pocket and drapes his arm around my shoulder. "I would be happy to, Lord de la Lucia," I smile, grasping him around the waist. "Do you Hunger?" His eyes glide up and down the line of my body, and I feel a strong desire to swoon. "Always," he murmurs "and please...call me Beni'." The room is spinning, and reality is fading fast...I press my face against his chest and strive to cling to consciousness. He sweeps me up into his arms and carries me to one of the bedrooms, where he feeds from me...and all of a sudden, he is atop me, his snow-white wings outstretched. I feel as if I will die--the pleasure and pain are so intense. I can feel myself bleeding out and being reborn, over and over upon that silken bed, every nerve of my body alive with his essence. We are almost like one, body and soul...and then he pulls back and looks down into my eyes. "You want something," he leers at me "or is it someone?" He sniffs the air. "I can smell it on your sex, My Darling! Don't be afraid to ask, young one--that's why I came to you! Love falls under my realm, Dearest...the human heart is full of darkness, yes?" I curse at him in Japanese and try to push him off of me, but he holds me fast. "Don't be so rude, Darling! I only want to help you! Matthieu-Michele can't do anything for you--he's simply out of his league! He's only a young God, still finding his footing! I am older than the ages, and I know what love is! I know the agony and the ecstasy and the razor's scar that it leaves upon the heart! I know of the poison and the betrayal and the all-consuming obsession! I have ridden the crest and scrabbled in the desolate valleys! I know what you want...I know whom you love...and I can make it happen for you--for a price." "I don't make deals with the Devil," I hiss at him from between clenched teeth...”

“You look... refreshed,' Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. 'Sleep well?' 'Like a babe.' I smiled at him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. 'What is that bruise?' Lucien demanded. I pointed with my fork at Tamlin. 'Ask him. He did it.' Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. 'Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?' he asked with no small amount of amusement. 'I bit her,' Tamlin said, not pausing as he cut his steak. 'We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite.' I straightened in my chair. 'She seems to have a death wise,' he went on, cutting his meat. The claws stayed retracted but pushed against the skin above his knuckles. My throat closed up. Oh, he was mad- furious at my foolishness for leaving my room- but somehow managed to keep his anger on a tight, tight leash. 'So, if Feyre can't be bothered to listen to orders, then I can't be held accountable for the consequences.' 'Accountable?' I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. 'You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!' Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. 'While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room,' Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. 'Faerie pig!' I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left. It took me a couple of hours to stop painting little portraits of Tamlin and Lucien with pigs' features. But as I finished the last one- Two faerie pigs wallowing in their own filth, I would call it- I smiled into the clear, bright light of my private painting room. The Tamlin I knew had returned. And it made me... happy.”

“You look... refreshed,' Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. 'Sleep well?' 'Like a babe.' I smiled at him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. 'What is that bruise?' Lucien demanded. I pointed with my fork at Tamlin. 'Ask him. He did it.' Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. 'Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?' he asked with no small amount of amusement. 'I bit her,' Tamlin said, not pausing as he cut his steak. 'We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite.' I straightened in my chair. 'She seems to have a death wish,' he went on, cutting his meat. The claws stayed retracted but pushed against the skin above his knuckles. My throat closed up. Oh, he was mad- furious at my foolishness for leaving my room- but somehow managed to keep his anger on a tight, tight leash. 'So, if Feyre can't be bothered to listen to orders, then I can't be held accountable for the consequences.' 'Accountable?' I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. 'You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!' Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. 'While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room,' Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. 'Faerie pig!' I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left. It took me a couple of hours to stop painting little portraits of Tamlin and Lucien with pigs' features. But as I finished the last one- Two faerie pigs wallowing in their own filth, I would call it- I smiled into the clear, bright light of my private painting room. The Tamlin I knew had returned. And it made me... happy.”

“You look ridiculous,” Wren said. “What?” “That shirt.” It was a Hello Kitty shirt from eighth or ninth grade. Hello Kitty dressed as a superhero. It said SUPER CAT on the back, and Wren had added an H with fabric paint. The shirt was cropped too short to begin with, and it didn’t really fit anymore. Cath pulled it down self-consciously. “Cath!” her dad shouted from downstairs. “Phone.” Cath picked up her cell phone and looked at it “He must mean the house phone,” Wren said. “Who calls the house phone?” “Probably 2005. I think it wants its shirt back.”

“You look sad," he says, which surprises me. "Well . . .more than you usually do." I tilt my head. "You notice if I'm sad?" Clearing his throat, he turns away, maybe embarrassed. I want to tell him he doesn't have to be, but I decide to leave it. As silence floats between us, I lie down and close my eyes to sleep. As I'm about to drift off, I hear him say, "If your sadness looks that beautiful, then I can't imagine what happiness looks like.”

“You look so beautiful in that gown... didn't you once tell me that blue was McKenna's favorite color?" "I don't remember." It had indeed been blue. Tonight Aline had not been able to prevent herself from reaching for a silk gown the color of Russian lapis. It was a simple gown with no flounces or overskirt, just a demi-train in the back and a low, square-cut bodice. A string of pearls was wrapped twice around her throat, with the lower loop hanging almost to her waist. Another strand had been artfully entwined in her pinned-up curls. "You're a goddess," her sister proclaimed cheerfully, raising her wineglass in tribute. "Good luck, dear. Because once McKenna sees you in that gown, I predict that you'll have a difficult time keeping him at bay.”

“You look so beautiful No one but me knows you're insane I feel so damn pathetic My friends just don't get it Cause you've got me under oath Before you I was in a fucking rut One day you are in the past That night I ask you back It started out just harmless fun Now you've got me thinking you are the one Cause if you wanna take me home You know I'm ready to leave You've got me under your spell Please don't set me free Cause I've been having all these nightmares Seeing you is my only way up Feeling so defenseless But I'm telling you I wouldn't change a thing You've got me feeling strange Cause I love to hate you so damn much But I can't think of leaving Cause you're what keeps me breathing It started out just harmless fun Now you've got me thinking you are the one Cause if you wanna take me home You know I'm ready to leave You've got me under your spell Please don't set me free Cause I've been having all these nightmares Seeing you is my only way up Feeling so defenseless But I'm telling you I wouldn't change a thing Cause if you wanna take me home You know I'm ready to leave You've got me under your spell Please don't set me free Cause if you wanna take me home You know I'm ready to leave You've got me under your spell Please don't set me free Cause I've been having all these nightmares Seeing you is my only way up Feeling so defenseless But I'm telling you I wouldn't change a thing”

“You look . . . so divine,” I said in a tight voice. “I see candy in your eyes and the crown jewels of England too.” “No—that’s what I am seeing in your eyes, Cathy. You’re so very beautiful in that white nightgown. I love you in white nightgowns with blue satin ribbons. I love the way your hair spreads like a fan, and you turn your cheek so it rests on a satin pillow.” He moved closer, so his head was on my hair too. Even closer he inclined his head until our foreheads met. His warm breath was on my face. I moved so my head tilted backward and my neck arched. I didn’t feel quite real when his warm lips kissed the hollow of my throat and stayed there. My breath caught. For long, long moments I waited for him to move away. I wanted to pull back myself, but somehow I couldn’t. A sweet peace stole over me, quivering my flesh with a tingling sensation. “Don’t kiss me again,” I whispered, clinging harder to him and pressing his head to my throat. “I love you,” he choked. “There will never be anyone for me but you. When I’m an old, old man, I’ll look back to this night with you under the Christmas tree, and remember how sweet it was of you to let me hold you like this.”

“You look somewhere else, then you see something different and so your journey for wisdom starts! Wise man’s mind is the mind looking at everywhere!”

“You look tired," Rachel told Jason. "I wish I could jog and sleep at the same time." "Can't you?" Ferrin asked, joining them at the little cascade. "I always imagined that you could sleep rolling down a mountainside in a barrel." "I probably could today," Jason conceded.”

“You look to him even now?” I said, my voice dripping with disdain. “You beg him?” I stepped forward, grabbing her by the pale hair and yanking her neck back to meet my eyes. “You say you want a better world, but only for you,” I seethed. “When it’s all stripped bare, Ingrid, you don’t even believe in your own words. You still seek out a man to beg. But no one puts a blade to my mate’s throat.” I dropped my mouth to her ear. “And no man will save you from my steel.”