Quotes About Mystery

I tasted your blood. I know your fucking soul.

I couldn't imagine Jericho Barrons as a child, going to school, face freshly scrubbed, hair neatly combed, lunch box in hand. He'd surely been spawned by some cataclysmic event of nature, to born.

It had taunted, provoked, brushed its big, hard body against hers at every opportunity, and in general lounged about looking like the epically horny fairy it was reputed to be. ~Gabby's thoughts on Adam

Beneath the expensive clothes, unplaceable accent, and cultured veneer, there's something that never crawled all the way out of the swamp. It didn't want to. It likes it there.

He is so beautiful that he makes a part of my soul weep. I don't understand those tears. They aren't like the ones I cry for Alina. They aren't made of water and salt. I think they're made of blood.

Barrons gets my beast, thinks she's beautiful.

Barrons szófukar volt. Most már megértem. A szavak nagyon veszélyesek.

No puedo creer que Dios juegue a los dados con el cosmos. ALBERT EINSTEIN Dios no solo juega a los dados. A veces lanza los dados alli donde no pueden ser vistos. STEPHEN HAWKING

Who and what are you?" "You called my name when you released me the first time," he said impatiently. " 'Tis Cian MacKeltar. As for the what of me, I'm but a man.

Theories are a fluid road map for solving a mystery and, if broached with an open mind and scrupulous attention to detail, they grant the answers you seek.

Karen Marie Moning

Long gold hair, eyes so light they looked silvery, and golden skin, the man was blindingly beautiful. Every hair on my body lifted, all over, in unison. And I got the strangest thought: He's not human.

feel like we're taking a bad trip down a yellow brick road, but what waits for us behind that curtain is no charlatan, rather an enormously powerful, staggeringly dangerous wizard of chaos.

Beneath the expensive clothes, unplaceable accent, and cultured veneer, there's something that never crawled all the way out of the swamp. It didn't want to. It likes it there.

He turned his face to mine, looked down. Handsome, chilling man. His eyes were the clearest I'd ever seen. This was a man that suffered no conflicts with himself. He had no problems being what he was. We stared at each other. "Black looks good on you," he murmured. "Has Barrons seen you like this?

I'd also secreted a few crosses and bottles of holy water in various nooks. Barrons would laugh at me if he knew. You might wonder if I'm expecting an army from Hell. I am.

Give me a Twilight moment, make me all shimmery, too?

I don't know where dreams come from. Sometimes I wonder if they're genetic memories, or messages from something divine.

He smiled faintly. "Do your thing, Ms. Lane. You might be criminally young, but the night is not.

I can't die like this. I have things to do. My adventure has hardly begun. Everything goes black. I see Death. Ain't so fascinating. It's a sledgehammer.

dark, tattooed muscle, midnight eyes glittering bloodred

She studied the fabulous frame with its odd symbols, stroking the cool gold of it, trailing her hand down over the silvery glass. Inside the mirror, Cian raised his hand, too, and traced the path of her passage, making it appear as though their fingertips met. She felt only cold glass.

He caught his full lower lip with his teeth and slowly released it, then smiled. It was not a smile meant to reassure. It was a smile that promised dark fantasies. Whether she wanted them or not.

Shadows are wonderful things. They hide pain and conceal motives.