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Y Quotes

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“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.”

“You’re in a story and the body writing it is an asshole. You had to know that, given the action. The story you’re in tells you like firing a gun…[I] had enough of it, of things happening one after another and no end in sight. Of reversals and falling in love and tragic flaws and by God if I see another motif in my business I will shoot it dead.”

“You’re in control, mo leannan. You’ve controlled me from the second we met. Not in the way you meant it, surely.” He huffs out a laugh because we both know I didn’t want him to stalk me. All I wanted was for him to leave me alone. “But you own me now. You own my heart. My soul.” He starts pumping his fingers in and out of me in a faster rhythm. “My cock.” He lifts an eyebrow and smirks. I wish I could come up with a snarky comment, but all I can do is whimper from his touch. “You have my protection. And hopefully soon, my name, too. Lucille Burton has a nice ring to it, does it not?”

“You’re inches away from death every time you go on a mission. How much older can you be at your age? A half minute before that you were stepping into high school, and an unhooked brassiere was as close as you ever hoped to get to Paradise. Only a fifth of a second before that you were a small kid with a ten-week summer vacation that lasted a hundred thousand years and still ended too soon. Zip! They go rocketing by so fast. How the hell else are you ever going to slow time down?” Dunbar was almost angry when he finished.”

“You're intriguing,' Hawke commented as Setti trotted ahead of Airrick. 'Intriguing is your favourite word,' I told him. 'It is when I'm around you.' I let myself grin because no one was watching, and I wanted to. 'Why am I intriguing now?' 'When are you not intriguing?' he said. 'You aren't afraid of Descenters or Craven, but you're shuddering like a wet kitten at the mere mention of a barrat.”

“You're just different from the other boys I've brought home. Different in what way? Well, you're not exactly a boy. I'm old, you mean? No, not old. But you're, you know, a man. I hate that there've been others, said Jude, and I was so surprised at the fact of his jealousy that I apologized. Why would he be jealous, I thought, when I had never loved or been loved this way before? It wasn't like this, I said. It wasn't ever like this. Tell me that you've never had anyone else. I want you to pretend. Okay, I said, laughing. I've never been with anyone else. Happy? Tell me I'm your first, he said, his voice low and his hands moving across my blouse. Tell me that you've never been touched. I'm untouched. Chaste, a clean slate. But you want it.”

“You’re just going to throw the h-house wenches out into the streets?” she asked with forced calm. “They’ll be dismissed with generous parting sums as a reward for their labors on the club’s behalf.” “Do you intend to hire new ones?” Sebastian shook his head. “While I have no moral aversion to the concept of prostitution— in fact, I’m all for it— I’m damned if I’ll become known as a pimp.” “A what?” “A pimp. A cock bawd. A male procurer. For God’s sake, did you have cotton wool stuffed in your ears as a child? Did you never hear anything, or wonder why badly dressed women were parading up and down the club staircase at all hours?” “I always visited in the daytime,” Evie said with great dignity. “I rarely saw them working. And later, when I was old enough to understand what they were doing, my father began to curtail my visits.” “That was probably one of the few kind things he ever did for you.” Sebastian waved away the subject impatiently. “Back to the subject at hand… not only do I not want the responsibility of maintaining mediocre whores, but we don’t have the room to accommodate them. On any given night, when all the beds are occupied, the club members are forced to take their pleasures out in the stables.” “They are? They do?” “And it’s damned scratchy and drafty in that stable. Take my word for it.” “You—” “However, there is an excellent brothel two streets over. I have every expectation that we can come to an arrangement with its proprietress, Madame Bradshaw. When one of our club members desires female companionship, he can walk to Bradshaw’s, receive their services at a discounted price, and return here when he’s refreshed.” He raised his brows significantly, as if he expected her to praise the idea. “What do you think?” “I think you would still be a cock bawd,” Evie said. “Only by stealth.” “Morality is only for the middle classes, sweet. The lower class can’t afford it, and the upper classes have entirely too much leisure time to fill.”

“You're just jealous," I said. "You can believe what you want," Aaron said. "But somebody's stealing from the Grimm Collection. They're either taking the objects or somehow sucking out their magic. Doc and theh librarians are going to find out who, and if Marc is in on it, you're going to be sorry you were helping him." "Marc isn't in on it. And I love this place too! We're all on the same side!" "I hope that's true," Aaron said.”