Desire urges me on as fear bridles me" Bruno.
Are you smelling me?” After yesterday I suspected that my body was giving him all kinds of information I didn't want him to have. “Don't tempt me,” he murmured.
Matthew kept hinting that his desire - for blood, chiefly- was so strong that it put everything else at risk. But vampires weren’t the only creatures who had to manage such strong impulses. Much of what qualified as magic was simply desire in action. Witchcraft was different- that took spells and rituals. But magic? A wish, a need, a hunger too strong to be denied- these could turn into deeds when they cross a witch’s mind.
The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed (Albert Einstein)
In this room we understand why this war might be fought...it's about our common belief that no one has the right to tell two creatures that they cannot love each other--no matter what their species.
The king just sits there, moving one square at a time. The queen can move so freely. I suppose I’d rather lose the game than forfeit her freedom.
You do angry. I just saw it. And you left at least one hole in my carpet to prove it.
It begins with absence and desire. It begins with blood and fear. It begins with a discovery of witches.
I'd studied 16th century science and magic. I thought it was strange that people were interested in the same kinds of things my research was about. The more I thought about it, the more intriguing it became and pretty soon I was writing a novel about a reluctant witch and a 1500-year-old vampire.
The plain truth is that the period I study is the 16th century, and they were absolutely obsessed with witches and spiritual beings.
Be yourself-- Matthew Clairmont. Complete with your sharp vampire teeth and your scary mother, your test tubes full of blood and your DNA, your infuriating bossiness and your maddening sense of smell.
Wordlessly I looked back at him, astonished that a kiss on the palm could be so intimate.
I know,I can smell it, too.
Her bark is worse than her bite.
Be still,” he said, voice harsh. “I might not be able to control myself if you step away.
My ideas about vampires may by romantic, but your attitudes toward women need a major overhaul.
Within days they'd formed an unholy alliance with a foppish young French vampire in the Garden District who had implausibly golden hair and a streak of ruthlessness as wide as the Mississippi
English vampires may not be as well behaved around witches as the American ones are.
His full name is Matthew Gabriel Philippe Bertrand Sebastien de Clermont. He was also a very good Sebastien, and a passable Gabriel. He hates Bertrand and will not answer to Philippe.
Gallowglass returned to Sporrengasse with two vampires and a pretzel.
I want a simple, ordinary life . . . like humans enjoy.
Sir. My lord. Master Roydon." The young man blurted out most available titles except for "Your Majesty" and "Prince of Darkness." These were implied nonetheless.
My experiences thus far had me planning to throttle the first Tudor historian I met upon my return for gross dereliction of duty.
It was a brutal picture, a tug-of-war between two equal but opposing impulses. It had the ring of truth, however.
Sorry, we've got ghosts.
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