Quotes from Vera Nazarian

She was not alone. There was Mr. Rochester with a candle, followed by a very mousy little governess by the name of Jane Eyre—ah, no, those were just the remnants of her dream;

No—what threatened ancient Atlantis was an upheaval of everything it stood for, and our records tells us, the ruling elites made it clear they would literally die and let everyone else on the planet die with them rather than give up their power and their lifestyle.

when ever you read a good book somewhere in the world a door opens to allow in more light

The older people always talked to her as though she were of an age to understand the table conversation even when her head barely reached the top of the table. And somehow it indeed came to be that she understood them perfectly and even formed opinions.

And with those words, Logan Sangre turns around and leaves me standing. He walks away in rapid strides, and I see his hand reach for the blue pin on his uniform, rip it off violently, and toss it on the floor behind him. The pin lands, rolls and stops some distance away from my feet, and starts blinking to indicate the loss of proximity. So does its mate, the corresponding pin on my chest.

One by one, other girls look in his direction. Yeah, Logan has that effect on females—all females. And quite a few guys, I might add.

Time had healed her of it, time and joyful circumstances of a personal nature.

I have told you all this because you matter to him, Lark.

But there was happiness elsewhere which no description can reach. Let no one presume to give the feelings of a young woman on receiving the assurance of that affection of which she has scarcely allowed herself to entertain a hope.

If I am missed, I may be found—by those who want to see me.

Always," he says softly. "It is what I intend to do for as long as I breathe.

The idea of the one perfect soul mate—whether it be girl, boy, or flying chipmunk—is right out of an old-fashioned romance novel (okay, maybe not the chipmunk part, unless he's a shape-shifting paranormal chipmunk who turns into a sexy tattooed hunk when the moon is full—yeah, you can tell I'm babbling even in my thoughts).

What happens next leaves me speechless. "I still don't have a proper love gift for you yet, im amrevu," Aeson says, watching me with intensity. "However, I have this—" He reaches with his right hand to untie the black armband around his left sleeve. The black length of silk comes loose, and he folds it carefully into a square and hands it to me.

While you were never properly welcomed, you were a dependable relief for us all, in the end, at the proper time for each one of us .

But you have abandoned us, and we don't know what to do with ourselves after we are broken.

the Empress said, her own breath coming in gasps, lips against her daughter's cold forehead and soft hair—her hair at least was still the same, soft, delicate, sweet cobwebs. . . .

He was her death—and yet, her blade of life, of clarity, to cut through the thick roiling swamp of personal darkness.

Anu is an acquired taste," I say lightly. Laronda widens her eyes and rolls them. "Sweet lord, yes! Roadkill with horseradish!

It's almost a relief, not having to stare at the sun.

Huh? Okay." I raise my brows. But the Consul stares back at me with unblinking disdain. "Your second lesson is never to use non-existent words or animalistic sounds worthy of a gurgling infant child in your adult communication.

Sometimes," Father Dibue said, "though everything is in the Lord's Hands, undoubtedly, there's the urgent need to administer the Holy Sacrament of the Last Rites. Otherwise, the humble servant of the Lord lingers, such as now, waiting for grace, for absolution.

Gordie reaches over and picks up my glass and takes a swig. "Hey!" he says. "Yummy!" "See?" I tell Gracie. But she continues to grimace. "You do realize that Gee Three liking something is empirically meaningless? He's a pig." At that, Logan, who sits next to me, starts to laugh.

But her soft lips were upon his, drinking his living breath, and he was now gasping in divine madness, pressing his mouth over hers like a drowning man, breathing through her. . . . "That

Soon, both his hands held her face between them, tilting her head back so that she felt as though she was swooning into the floor, into the ground, into the earth itself, while he opened her, consumed her from above and from the inside, and her gaze was turned heavenward, and he was the dome of her sky, its entirety. . . . They