Bring it on, Tinker Bell.
How could they let me grow up like that—happy and pink and stupid?
Ancient eyes had stared at me, filled with ancient grief. And something more. Something so alien and unexpected that I'd almost burst into tears. I'd seen many things in his eyes in the time that I'd known him: lust, amusement, sympathy, mockery, caution, fury. But I had never seen this. Hope. Jericho Barrons had hope, and I was the reason for it. I would never forget his smile. It had illuminated him from the inside out.
What are you Barrons?” “The one who will never let you die, and that’s more, Ms Lane, than anyone in your life has been able to say to you. More than anyone else can do
I want you to go to the Ancient Languages Department at Trinity College tomorrow morning, Ms.Lane.
One day you do meet a man who kisses you and you can’t breathe around it and you realize you don’t need air. Oxygen is trivial. Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset. To touch the one you love. To try again.
I'm not the hero, Mac. Never have been. Never will be. Let us be perfectly clear: I'm not the antihero, either, so quit waiting to discover my hidden potential. There's nothing to redeem me.
Barrons: "He got upset it wouldn't shut up and tore its head off." Mac: "The child?" I gasped
I’m asking the questions tonight.” One day I was going to write a book: How to Dictate to a Dictator and Evade an Evader, subtitled How to Handle Jericho Barrons.
Love knows no right or wrong. Love is. Only is.
Never underestimate a well-dressed bimbo.
Sighing dismally, she acknowledged that some things just weren't humanly possible - not even Martha Stewart could fold fitted sheets.
Jericho Barrons was my poison now.
I miss her. I don't know how to live without her. There is a hole inside me that nothing fills. If you don't find something to fill that hole, someone else will. And if someone else fills it, they own you. Forever. You'll never get yourself back.
Yesterday was a memory. Today was a hope.
I wake up wating you. I fall asleep wanting you. I watch a magnificent sunrise and can think only of sharing it with you. I glimpse a piece of amver and see your eyes. Jillian, I've caught a disease, and the fever abates only when I'm near you.
I kept it to remind me that although there is evil, there is sometimes beauty and light. You, Jillian. You were always my light.
And there you have it...if I knew that I could only have a few nights in that man's arms or nothing, I would take those magic nights and use them to keep me warm for the rest of my life.
You were firing questions at me today, trying to get inside my head. You asked if I believed in God. I told you of course I do- I've always had a strong sense of self. Your house is quiet now, you're sleeping upstairs and I'm alone with this blasted, idiotic book that purports to tally the sum of my life, and fact is, maybe I do. But maybe, ka-lyrra, your God doesn't believe in me. -- From The (Greatly Revised) Black Edition Of The O'Callaghan Book of the Sin Siriche Du
He was still frowning at the cake, looking at it as if he expected it to sprout dozens of legs and begin scuttling toward him, thin-lipped, teeth bared.
The other day upon the stair, I saw a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today; how I wish he'd go away!" ~Gabrielle O'Callaghan towards Adam Black
Samhain had its origins, like many modern holidays or celebrations, in pagan times. As the sidhe-seers had been inclined to erect churches and abbeys on their sacred sites, the Vatican had been wont to “Christianize” ancient, pagan celebrations in an if-you-can’t-beat-them-and-don’t-wantto- join-them-rename-it-and-pretend-it-was-yours-all-along campaign.
Nobody home but She for Whom I Am the World. Can't go on like this, can't keep doing it.- Jericho Barrons
I heard there are no male sidhe-seers." Where did you hear that?" Around." And which one of those are you in doubt about Ms. Lane?" Which one of what?" Whether I see the Fae, or whether I'm a man. I believe I've laid your mind to rest on the former; shall I relieve it on the latter?" He reached for his belt. Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "You're a leftie, Barrons." Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmered.
Mac: "It's not the sidhe-seers." He stopped and went very still. JZB: "Who is it?" Mac: "The MacKeltars." He was silent a long moment. Then he began to laugh, softly. JZB: "Well played, Ms. Lane." Mac: "I had a good teacher." JZB: "The best. Hop on one foot, Ms. Lane." Mac and Barrons
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