Sometime later, I stood watching the cold rain fall, when suddenly I felt Daemon’s arms around me and his lips on my neck. He loved my pregnant body and his hands roamed over it under the warm terrycloth of my bathrobe. I was lost in the moment, content to stay here forever…lost in the cold rain and welcoming warmth of Dublin, and lost in the arms of my husband. Since we arrived early this morning we were in our room, making love and sleeping, lost in a fairy tale moment, savoring every caress.
No one stays the same, David. Everything you are is a direct result of something that’s affected you in your past, whether it was horrible or wonderful — no one has the right to destroy themselves because they can’t deal with the pain. You have to learn from it. It’s not over–the good in your life–it’s not over until your dead.
The supernatural is not as it claims, for it is inherently unnatural; it seeks to separate us from our natural world.
Grimes believed in what he did, with no doubts. Though he was older than me by over a decade, I suddenly felt old. Some things mark your soul, not in years but in blood and pain and selling off parts of yourself to get the bad guys, until you finally look in the mirror and aren’t sure which side you’re on anymore. There comes a point when having a badge doesn’t make you the good guy, it just makes you one of the guys. I needed to be one of the good guys, or what the hell was I doing?
Maybe because I knew Haze and Kate so well by then the passage leapt out at me, clear and sharp as diamond.
“My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath…He’s always,
always in my mind: not as a pleasure any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.
Nothing else in the whole wide world matters as much as avenging your sister.
If I’d had enough breath, I would have screamed, both at the sensation and at the sheer pettiness of the bastard who wouldn’t allow me even a tiny chance of escape.
It happened during the winter of 1973, when evenings rang out stillborn from far across the weathered moorland, and snow fell hard and heavy and clung atop the peppered veins of nature’s tough bracken, all picture-postcard like.
There is no separate supernatural realm: all phenomena are part of one natural process of evolution.
One year Halloween came on October 24, three hours after midnight. At that time, James Nightshade of 97 Oak Street was thirteen years, eleven months, twenty-three days old. Next door, William Halloway was thirteen years, eleven months, and twenty-four days old. Both touched toward fourteen; it almost trembled in their hands. And that was the October week when they grew up overnight, and were never so young any more…