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Brother And Sister Quotes

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Brother And Sister Quotes

“I knelt and locked the door. I locked the door locking the world and time outside. I stretched my body across the mattress and Saskia drew in close to me and placed her open hand on my chest, her mouth near my shoulder; her breath, my breath blew out the candle, and I held my lost Wanderess with tenderness until sweet sleep overcame us.”

“Never had we ever kissed as lovers; if we touched lips it was as brother and sister. In one moment of emotion, our lips fell together by accident, but we quickly removed ourselves as though we were children touching glass with dirty hands.”

“I love people who play guitars on roofs!" said Rose, hopping along the pavement in one of her sudden happy moods. "Don't you?" "Never knew anyone else who did it!" "Don't you like Tom?" "Of course I do. But I don't know about all the other guitar-on-roof players! They might be really awful people, with just that one good thing about them. Playing guitars on roofs... or bagpipes... Or drums... Sarah would like that, and Saffy could have the bagpipes! Caddy could have a harp.... What about Mum?" "One of those gourds filled with beans!" said Rose at once. "And Daddy could have a grand piano. On a flat roof. With a balcony and pink flowers in pots around the edge! And I'll have a very loud trumpet! What about you?" "I'll just listen," said Indigo.”

“Being the eldest child is a sacred position. Be grateful to the Heavens for entrusting you with it.”

“The only furniture in the dank space was a flimsy cot. Water dripped steadily in one corner. A hole in the floor appeared to serve as a latrine. What most caught Kendra's eye were the messages scratched on the wall. She roamed the cell, reading the crudely inscribed phrases. "Seth rules! Welcome to Seth's House. Seth rocks! Seth was here. Now it's your turn. Seth Sorenson forever. Enjoy the food! If you're reading this, you can read. All roads lead to Seth. Is it still dripping? Seth haunts these halls. You're in a Turkish prison! Seth is the man! Use the meal mats as toilet paper." And so forth. Cold, hopeless, and alone, Kendra found herself giggling at the messages her brother had scrawled. He must have been so bored!”

“I don't give a shit,' he said, smiling slightly. 'I don't care if I'm called Prince or Starborn or the Chosen One or any of that.' He grabbed her hand. 'The only thing I want to be called right now is your brother.' He added softly. 'If you'll have me.' She winked, even as her heart tightened unbearably. 'I'll think about it.”

“Leo offered his arm and Cassie took it. Sister and brother strolled aimlessly for a few moments. “Perhaps we have not suffered enough to earn happiness?” Cassie glanced up at him, relieved to note the teasing twinkle in his eye. “I should be happy to make you suffer with a well-placed kick to your backside if that’s what you wish.” Leo laughed. “I shall pass if you don’t mind. Besides, I am barely nine-and-twenty and have plenty of time left to enjoy myself before the need truly arises to settle myself with a wife.” He sobered. “You, however—” “Don’t say it, Leo,” Cassie said firmly. “Or I shall be forced to deliver that kick and a great deal more.”

“Don't you know me, Sophia?" came his anguished whisper. He shocked her by sinking to the floor and clutching handfuls of her skirts, his dark head buried against her knees. She was dumbstruck as she stared at the hands tangled in her skirts. A harsh sob lodged in her throat as she touched the back of his left hand. There was a small, star-shaped scar in the center. It was the same scar that John had gotten in childhood, when he had carelessly brushed it against a fireplace iron still hot from the coals. Tears continued to slip down her cheeks, and she covered the mark with her own hand. His head lifted, and he stared at her with eyes that she now recognized were exactly like her own. "Please," he whispered. "It's all right," she said unsteadily. "I believe you, John. I do know you. I should have seen it at once, but you are much changed." He responded with a sorrowful growl, struggling to contain his feelings.”

“After a brief murmured exchange, the lady's maid opened the door a bit wider, and Phoebe's brother Ivo stuck his head inside. "Hullo, sis," he said casually. "You look very nice in that gold dress." "It's ecru." At his perplexed look, she repeated, "Ecru." "God bless you," Ivo said, and gave her a cheeky grin as he entered the room. Phoebe lifted her gaze heavenward. "Why are you here, Ivo?" "I'm going to escort you downstairs, so you don't have to go alone." Phoebe was so moved, she couldn't speak. She could only stare at the eleven-year-old boy, who was volunteering to take the place her husband would have assumed. "It was Father's idea," Ivo continued, a touch bashfully. "I'm sorry I'm not as tall as the other ladies' escorts, or even as tall as you. I'm really only half an escort. But that's still better than nothing, isn't it?" His expression turned uncertain as he saw that her eyes were watering. After clearing her throat, Phoebe managed an unsteady reply. "At this moment, my gallant Ivo, you tower above every other gentleman here. I'm so very honored." He grinned and offered his arm in a gesture she had seen him practice in the past with their father. "The honor is mine, sis." In that moment, Phoebe had the briefest intimation of what Ivo would be like as a full-grown man, confident and irresistibly charming.”

“Of all her siblings, Gabriel was the one to whom Phoebe had always felt closest. In his company, she could make petty or sarcastic remarks, or confess her foolish mistakes, knowing he would never judge her harshly. They knew each other's faults and kept each other's secrets. Many people, if not most, would have been flabbergasted to learn that Gabriel had any faults at all. All they saw was the remarkable male beauty and cool self-control of a man so elegantly mannered that it never would have occurred to anyone to call him a lunkhead. However, Gabriel could sometimes be arrogant and manipulative. Beneath his charming exterior, there was a steely core that made him ideally suited to oversee the array of Challon properties and businesses. Once he decided what was best for someone, he took every opportunity to push and goad until he had his way. Therefore, Phoebe occasionally found it necessary to push back. After all, it was an older sister's responsibility to keep her younger brother from behaving like a domineering ass.”

“Phoebe, the fact that I asked you to be a chaperone should have made it obvious that I didn't want a chaperone at all." "I have no desire to be one," Phoebe retorted. "However, the children are asking why you're taking so long, and I can't very well explain that you're a libidinous goat." "No," Gabriel replied, "because then you would sound like a parsimonious prig." Pandora was perplexed by the quick, fond grins the siblings exchanged after the sharp words.”

“The corners of her mouth drooped and he felt an odd panicked twinge somewhere in that empty space where a heart might dwell in other people. "The trouble," Eve said, "is that I've never been able to tell when you're lying to me and when you're not. It wouldn't matter, I suppose, but that you don't care if you lie to me or not. And I do. I used to not. Or maybe I used to tell myself I didn't care. But Val," she said softly, looking at him with his own eyes, "now I do." She turned and, taking Makepeace's arm, very quietly left the room with her fiancé. And it was a very good thing, Val thought, that he hadn't a heart. Because it might've broken then.”

“She could hardly believe that this truculent stranger was her brother. "Nick," she said, testing his name on her tongue. "Why did you give me those presents? It nearly drove me mad, wondering who had sent them. And I was terrified that Sir Ross would think I was carrying on with a secret lover." "Sorry," he muttered, flashing her a contrite smile. "I wanted to be a- a benefactor. To give you the things you deserve. I never meant for us to meet. But the need to see you became so strong that I couldn't bear it any longer." "And that is why you approached me at Silverhill Park?" He gave her the smile of a naughty schoolboy.”

“Gentry seemed capable of almost anything, as if he could lie, steal, or even kill without a flicker of remorse. There was no softness in him, and Sophia guessed that any sense of mercy or compassion had been driven from him long ago. But he was still her brother. Wonderingly, she lifted her hand to the side of his face. He remained still beneath her cradling fingers. "John, I never allowed myself to hope that you were still alive." Gently he took her hand from his face, as if he found it difficult to tolerate another person's touch. "I was shocked when I saw you in the Bow Street strong room," he muttered. "I knew who you were at once, even before I heard your name.”

“A cold grin flashed across his face. "I'm not guilty of half the things I'm accused of. But I encourage the rumors, and I never deny even the worst of them. I want people to regard me with fear and respect. Good for business." "Are you saying that you haven't stolen from people, and framed and betrayed and blackmailed-" Gentry interrupted her with a sound that expressed pure annoyance. "I'm not a saint." Despite Sophia's distress, she almost wanted to laugh at the understatement.”

“Lottie scarcely had time to appreciate the graceful design of the house's interior before they were approached by a lovely woman. The woman's blond hair was much darker than her own, the color of aged honey. It had to be Lady Cannon, whose face was a delicate copy of Gentry's severely handsome features. Her nose was less bold, her chin defined but not quite as decisive as her brother's, her complexion fair instead of tanned. The eyes, however, were the same distinctive blue; rich, dark, and fathomless. Lady Cannon was so youthful in appearance that one would never have guessed that she was older than her brother by four years. "Nick," she exclaimed with an exuberant laugh, coming forward and lifting up on her toes to receive his kiss. He enclosed her in a brief hug, rested his chin on the crown of her head, then drew back to look at her appraisingly. In that one instant, Lottie saw the remarkable depth of feeling between the two, which had somehow survived years of distance, loss, and deception.”

“At thirteen, she was already five feet seven, a little hollowed-out by her growth spurt, her chest concave, her eyes with their ineffable violet light enormous, her bangs cut straight across her brow so she looked very young and serious. He realizes only now that as time passed he'd continued to think of Felice as that thirteen-year-old child, preserved like a geranium between the leaves of a book. She is still young and slim, yet changed. Her shoulders are straighter and more refined; the bangs are gone- her hair swings to her shoulders. Her eyes no longer seem overlarge: they are wide, almond-shaped. Nieves stares at her: he'd failed to mention his sister's beauty. Stanley tucks his chin: inside, a ragged blank- the feeling that this couldn't possibly be his sister: 'she' is still out there- a thirteen-year-old, who vanished into the night, a black orchid.”

“Let's not pretend this visit has anything to do with me. You came here hoping for a glimpse of a certain bearded Scotsman." She lowered her voice as she asked, "Did he say anything to you?" "About what?" "About me." "Why, yes, we stopped in the middle of work to gossip over tea. Then we made plans to visit the milliner and try on bonnets together-" "Oh, hush," Merritt whispered sharply, both amused and annoyed.”

“Princess... er, Erina." "I'm aware this is terribly belated, but please allow me to offer my sincere condolences on the death of your mother. Now then, do you have any plans for what you'll be doing from here on out?" "Huh? Plans? Me? Um, I don't really have anywhere left to go..." "Really? That's perfect. We were just searching for a chef of exceptional talent. Satisfying the Book Master's exceedingly refined palate is no small feat. We can have no shortage of highly capable chefs on hand to accomplish this task. Besides... If everyone wasn't present for our cozy family meals... ... it'd reflect poorly on the venerable Nakiri Family's good name. And you are family. Isn't that right... ... elder brother Asahi?”

“l can no longer condemn or hate a brother for whom I pray, no matter how much trouble he causes me. His face, that hitheno may have been strange and intolerable to me, is transformed in intercession into the countenance of a brother for whom Christ died, the face of a forgiven sinner. This is a happy discovery for the Christian who begins to pray for others. There is no dislike, no personal tension, no estrangement that cannot be overcome by intercession as far as our side of it is concerned. Intercessory prayer is the purifying bath into which the individual and the fellowship must enter every day. The struggle we undergo with our brother in intercession may be a hard one, but that struggle has the promise that it will gain its goal.”