Stop fighting me! " he said, trying to pull on the arm he held. He was in a precarious position himself, straddling the rail as he tried to lean over far enough to get me and actually hold onto me.“ Let go of me! ”...
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Richelle Mead
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.
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T.S. Eliot
Fresh is better. But you've never drunk fresh blood. Have you?" Simon raised his eyebrow in response." Well, aside from mine of course, " Jace said. "And I'm pretty sure my blood is fan-tastic.
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Cassandra Clare
Crap, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"" I'm thinking we have about fifteen vampires and no blood, " Claire said. "Is that it?"" No, I was thinking we're out of chips. Of course that's what I was thinking.
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Rachel Caine
So--what's it like, being a vampire?"" Aline! " Isabelle looked appalled. "You can't just go around asking people what's it like to be a vampire! "" I don't see why, " Aline said. "He hasn't been a vampire that long, has he? So he must...
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Cassandra Clare
More Quotes By Marie Corelli
Does one love a statue?" she demanded. "Shall I caress a picture? Shall I rain tears or kisses over the mere semblance of a life that does not live, shall I fondle hands that never return my clasp? Love! Love is in my heart -yes!...
Curious that it is impossible for a man to be original without attracting around him a set of unoriginal minds, as though he were a honey-pot and they the flies!
Was it worth while, he thought, to be so wise, if wisdom made one at times so sad? Was it well to sacrifice Faith for Fact, when Faith was so warm and Fact so cold? Was it better to be a dreamer of things possible,...
Be sure that if you are unhappily celebrated for either beauty, wit, intellect, or all three together, half society wishes you dead already, and the other half tries to make you as wretched as possible while you are alive.
There was something else, --something quite undefinable, that gave a singular glow and radiance to the whole countenance, and suggested the burning of a light through alabaster, --a creeping of some subtle fire through the veins which made the fair body seem the mere reflection...
