It's promising and seductive, that huge Italian family, sitting around the dinner table, surrounded by olive trees. But it's not my family and I am not their family, and no amount of birthing sons, and cooking dinner and raking leaves or planting the gardens or paying for the plane tickets is going to change that. If I don't come back in eleven months, I will not be missed, and no one will write me or call me to acknowledge my absence. Which is not an accusation, just a small truth about clan and bloodline. . Gabrielle Hamilton
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 Gabrielle Hamilton
I was firmly in the out-of-sight-out-of-mind camp, and had cogent, unflinchingly honest declarations I frequently made about losing a shared context, and sentimentalism, and the general faint hearted ness of most people-but I knew there were people in the world who remained friends, for life,...
How can it be, after all this concentrated effort and separation, how can it be that I still resemble, so very closely, my own detestable mother?
My parents seemed incredibly special and outrageously handsome to me then.
Every session I had no fewer than sixteen girls with “allergies” to dairy and wheat–cheese and bread basically–but also to garlic, eggplant, corn, and nuts. They had cleverly developed “allergies, ” I believe, to the foods they had seen their own mothers fearing and loathing...
This is the crepe. This is the cider. This is how we live and eat.