Cate Tiernan (born July 24, 1961) is the pen name of Gabrielle Charbonnet, an American author.
Could he actually be my muirn beatha dan?
No, officer, I have no idea why I'm wearing this possum costume. I called you what? OH. My bad. " -Nastasya
I didn't know where this stuff was coming from - all of a sudden I was a little magickal sprite, bonding with my stone, feeling my earth roots, la la la. . . All I can is describe the way it felt. And that was how it felt. So sue me. Was I swaying? I felt like I might be swaying.
I was of the “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, then wonder why life didn’t give you freaking sugar so you could drink the stuff” school of thought.
Better stupid and safe that smart and dead.
The Goddess teaches us that every ending is also a beginning. May there be rebirth from this death.
There is darkness in light, there is pain in joy, and there are thorns on the rose.
You're not honey. Your'e wine. You're the deepest, darkest shadow under a tree on a blazing day. You're strong and hard, coursing like a current at the bottom of a river.
Men are natural warriors, but a woman in battle is truly bloodthirsty
He gave a hard smile and the oxygen in my lungs evaporated. “We both know I’m not a gentleman. ” “Yeah. Okay, let me out. I’m tired. ” “There’s something else,” he said, and I groaned. “What now?” “This. ” He stepped closer to me, so close that the containers were sandwiched between us. His eyes looked down into mine, intent and golden, like a lion. “Oh, no, you don’t!” I hissed, dropping everything. I pushed hard against his chest; it was like shoving a tree. “Yes,” he said very softly, leaning down. “Yes, I do.
Heritage does not equal destiny.
But I also meant that loving someone really opening your heart to them is just asking to have your heart smashed and handed back to you in little pieces.
It happened again this afternoon. Just the way it did that other night. We were talking--talking about how to protect her, actually--and then, suddenly, I looked at her and it was as if I'd found an entire universe in her eyes.
My sister thought about it for a few moments. "Well, that's boring," she said finally. "Why can't you read porn of something fun that I could borrow?" I laughed. "Maybe later.
I should have known the power-hungry slave drivers at River's Edge would see my five days of freedom only as a challenge to be filled.
Oh my God, can you see me? I thought I was wearing my invisibility cloak.
I-just want you. I want you so bad, all the time. I know I shouldn't, I know I can't, I know it's wrong. . . but even when you're pissing me off, when you're reminding me of pain and despair and torture-it's there, the wanting. I'm tired of fighting it. I fight so many things, all the time, every day. I don't want to fight this. Not anymore.
Years from now I'll look back and remember today as the day I met him. I'll look back and remember the exact moment my life began to include him. I will remember it forever.
I held a nail in place and slammed it with the hammer. Best. Chore. Ever.
Being good is something that one must choose over and over again, every day, throughout the day, for the rest of one's life," Asher said. "A day is made of a thousand decisions, most small, some huge. With each decision you have the chance to work toward light, or sink toward darkness.