It's okay to cry as long as you're faking it.
She was sitting in a garden more beautiful than even her rampaging imagination could ever have conjured up, and she was being serenaded by trees.
Say me aye," he whispered against her mouth. "Say me aye. " How could she say anything else?
I am a connoisseur of fine irony. 'Tis a bit like fine wine, but it has a better bite.
He stopped and looked at her. "Your eyes are leaking. " "It's the flowers. They make me sneeze. " "Then let us be away from the garden. Open the door, love, if you will. " She obeyed, then froze halfway over the threshold. "What did you call me?" "The first of countless endearments if you'll but stir yourself to hold our current course.
He can occasionally see to an enemy," she conceded. "If he manages to get his sword pointed in the right direction and the enemy does him the favor of falling upon it in precisely the right way.
Shut up," Morgan said, whirling on the woman and pointing the sword at her. "Shut up, you shrill harpy, before I aid you in doing so by means of a dozen ways you won't care for in the least. " Adhémar's fiancée fell, blessedly, silent.
Knowledge is power. If it is not applied properly to create, let there be no doubts, it will destroy.
No one can take away my freedom to choose how I will react.
In my medicine cabinet, the winter fly has died of old age.
There is only one governor, and his name is Gray Davis.