You will be the one chosen to reach out to embrace man once again as the heart. So that all will be as it should. ‘Fatu-ma-le-ele-ele’ You will give your fire so that Man may live. And he will give his heart so that earth may live.Thus it has been spoken.
My Dearest Breena, They will remember us. Long after these wars have been mourned and then forgotten long after Summer and Winter fairies lay aside their rancor for one another and forget that they have ever tasted hatred they will remember – Summer fairies and Winter too – of a fairy king who loved his queen. - Prince Kian
Every living soul in this universe should be given a chance at love – their personal shot at having the most powerful andmysterious thing that ever existed. You could love forever, or your love couldburn short and bright for just a few moments in the history oftime. But however you did it, I supposed the idea was to make it count; to create a story worthy of a new fairytale, a poem,or a new constellation that would wind itself into an infinite thread of light in your name. Maybe that was the whole point of love – to create an eternal story of your own.
because daytime leaves vampires less than, well, conscious, I told him, “Take your muffins to Boston and shut it, Terrance.” And then I hung up on him.
Her beauty was ethereal, knocking on the door of the part of his psyche that still believed in magic and miracles.
Can someone decide to leave everything and move to a dreamland?Was it possible?if yes, how can one do it without being called crazy or a coward?
When the wolf howls and the moon dimshope fades with the waning light. Evil lurks at every turn as shadows waltz across the ebony night. Behold the midnight hour where all of reason takes flight.
If only they could live in the twilight of their dreams, in the tiny moment before the harsh light of reality found them, perhaps they could be happy.
Lark’s SongThat child who from Diana’s thought is bornA huntress swift, who doth the world adornWith strength and passion worthy of the GreenMay wax, and one day rise to be a queen.That child who in the eye of Phoebus growsOf visage fair, that none would dare opposeMay in her hand hold light and glory too,And to the Light hold sternly staunch and true.That child who with the face of Venus smiles,Will bear a heart of mischief and of wiles,And may in time love’s faithful bonds fulfilWhile bending lesser hearts unto her will.That child who with Athena’s grace doth moveMay to all eyes her worldly wisdom proveAnd make right wise and fulsome use thereofTo measure all who seek to win her love.That child who with grim Circe’s tongue foretells Enmeshing faithful hearts within her spellsBy dint of sly mendacity and guile,All innocence and virtue may defile.That child who by her cunning doth conniveMay by fair Tyche’s fortune wax and thriveAnd come in time to sit upon a throne;Or fail and fall, forsaken and alone.That child may choose to hark to glory’s callAnd shine in splendour, loved by one and all;Or cleave to darkness, hated and reviled:Chance crafts the fate of every fate-touched child.
Debilitating guilt crushed Gabriel every time he interacted with Morgan. The Ange'el's affection for the human was weakening his mandate to control her movements and influence her decisions. His task was, once again, to deceive and manipulate. He seemed destined to betray the confidence of those he held most dear.
Putting her mind to it, Love would become familiar with his body. She would know him from top to bottom, from beginning to end.Touching this boy would be the death, and life, of her.
An old childhood playmate once told me ‘second guessing every step prevents any forward momentum. Trust yourself. Forgive yourself. And move on.
I’m a starving child trying to stuff my stomach, gorging my senses on the decadence of these moments as if I’ll wake up in the morning and realize I’m still sweeping cinders for my stepmother.But then Adam’s lips press against my head and my worries put on a fancy dress and pretend to be something else for a while.
My mind screams for me to run, but my feet are planted where they are. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. There’s no way this is real!
Why?He stopped pacing and looked at her as if she'd just asked him to count every leaf on every tree in the Old Place. Because... you're you.
Fiction is just a mirror of reality for the most part. Many things that happen in fiction don’t even happen here. But as far as pain and sadness. Joy and love, life and death, it’s all real here. Here it’s real.
Is that how you get propositioned at the court? 'Mylady, would you be so kind as to allow me to put my manhood in your vagina'?
You're so... You're too... You're... He faltered, then took a deep breath. I have no words for you, Sita. You leave me speechless.I smiled and pinched his buttock so he twitched. Speechless? Gods, I've broken you. I never would have deemed it possible to render you speechless.
His fingers painted my skin with ruby red patterns of desire. In Keahi’s kiss I could taste the red burn of chili encrusted in the rich sweetness of melted chocolate. I breathed in his scent and it spoke to me of vanilla. The ink of my malu tattoo began to burn, searing markings of fiery joy.
She smells like spring and flowers and rain, even though it’s winter. Sometimes, he thinks he loves her so much that his mind is unable to distinguish between love and obsession. Which is worse?
He reflects on all the times he thought she wasn’t sure of her feelings for him, when perhaps she might’ve been taking a leisurely stroll across Elijah’s heart, leaving footprints behind that he’d never seen.
Love being the only flower that opens and reaches for the light. Light will always come, because it longs to be reached for, and darkness is put away.
Remember to take in and harvest light yet also allow yourself to cast shadows where needed, like a tree. Then, in return, your shadow will support your light.
There is the scent too. Wonder follows it; wonder about how a boy can smell like that when he probably has no idea. He smells like the woods in the winter or the rain when it first falls, or maybe it’s just the way he always smells and there is no way to define it.
Reality runs the risk of spoiling things, don't you think? The fantasy is often better. That's where the soul is fulfilled. Reality struggles to fulfil the soul, that's why we're often so unhappy. But fantasy is the world of the soul...
Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?Meeting his fiery gaze, I ran my fingers through his hair, kissed him gently before I attempted to set us both free. It will always be enough.
With the many uncertainties, of one thing I was sure. I could not escape love, the very thing that had kept me mobile since the day I realized I was capable of giving and receiving it.