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1 " Scars are not injuries, Tanner Sack. A scar is a healing. After injury, a scar is what makes you whole. "
― China Miéville , The Scar (New Crobuzon, #2)
2 " And I read something else," Jacob goes on. " There was this discussion of the story of Cain and Abel, from the Bible. After Cain kills his brother, God says, 'The bloods of your brother call out to me.' Not blood. Bloods. Weird, right? So the Talmud tries to explain it." " I can explain it," says William. " The scribe was drunk." " William!" cries Jeanne. " The Bible is written by God!" " And copied by scribes," the big boy replies. " Who get drunk. A lot. Trust me." Jacob is laughing. " The rabbis have a different explanation. The Talmud says it's 'bloods' because Cain didn't only spill Abel's blood. He spilled the blood of Abel and all the descendants he never had." " Huh!" " And then it says something like, 'Whoever destroys a single life destroys the whole world. And whoever saves a single life saves the whole world." There are sheep in the meadow beside the road. Gwenforte walks up to the low stone wall, and one sheep--a ram--doesn't run away. They sniff each other's noses. Her white fur beside the ram's wool--two textures, two colors, both called white in our inadequate language. Jeanne is thinking about something. At last, she shares it. " William, you said that it takes a lifetime to make a book." " That's right." " One book? A whole lifetime?" William nods. " A scribe might copy out a single book for years. An illuminator would then take it and work on it for longer still. Not to mention the tanner who made the parchment, and the bookbinder who stitched the book together, and the librarian who worked to get the book for the library and keep it safe from mold and thieves and clumsy monks with ink pots and dirty hands. And some books have authors, too, like Saint Augustine or Rabbi Yehuda. When you think about it, each book is a lot of lives. Dozens and dozens of them." Dozens and dozens of lives," Jeanne says. " And each life a whole world." " We saved five books," says Jacob. " How many worlds is that?" William smiles. " I don't know. A lot. A whole lot. "
3 " Snuggle up with a hot fireman! Meet Tanner West.Sharon looked up into the most gorgeous face she had ever seen. Eyes like dark chocolate, deep and warm, stared out at her from a face that looked like it could have been chiseled in stone. Skin the color of burnished copper, high cheekbones, a sharp nose, full lips, and a cleft chin. How the hell had she failed to notice him before? Her heart skipped a beat and she ran her gaze down the rest of his body. He was tall, well over six feet, she would guess, with broad shoulders that tapered into a trim waist. His thighs, encased in worn denim, fit like a second skin against legs the size of tree trunks, and oh my, what lay between those thighs… Her attention snapped back to his face and she could feel the heat of a blush suffuse her skin. "
― Tamara Hoffa , A Special Kind of Love
4 " Jumping, waving arms, cheering, laughing, head-butting him in the groin, an unfortunate ritual in the Tanner home, very much unappreciated by Jim, but tolerated for the sake of the children, Grace, Bobby and Steven joined Jason next to their father. "
5 " All they told me was that he was forty-two when he died. I just wanted...to find out more about what kind of person he was.I could tell you more, amanda thought to herself. A lot more. She'd suspected the truth since Morgan Tanner had called, and she'd made some calls to confirm her suspicions. Dawson, she'd learned, had been taking off life support at CarolinaEast Regional Medical Center late Monday night. He's been kept alive long after doctors knew he would never recover, because he was an organ donor.Dawson, she knews, had saved Alan's life-but in the end, he'd saved Jared's as well. And for that meant...everything. I gave you the best of me, he'd told her once, and with every beat of her son's heart, she knew he'd done exactly that. How about a quick hug," she said, " before we go inside?" Jared rolled his eyes, but he opened his arms anyway. " I love you, Mom," he mumbled, pulling her close. Amanda closed her eyes, feeling the steady rhythm in his chest. " I love you, too. "
6 " But no one has seen a trace of lightbearers in over five hundred years. Somebody wiped them out. Probably our kind, trying to inherit their magic.”“Probably our kind eating them for dinner,” Finn contributed to the conversation for the first time. “Back then we were slightly more primal.”“Slightly,” Tanner remarked tongue in cheek. "
― Tami Lund , Into the Light (Lightbearer, #1)
7 " The soul often hangs in a balance of some sort. Tonight do I lie down in the high fields with Dirk Tanner or not? At the fair, do I buy ribbons or wine? For the new ferry’s headboard, do I use camphor or pearwood? Small things. A kiss, a ribbon, a grain that coaxes the knife this way or that. They are not, Kit Meinem of Atyar. Our souls wait for our answer because any answer changes us. This is why I wait to decide what I feel about your bridge. I’m waiting until I know how I will be changed.” “You never know how things will change you,” Kit said. “If you don’t, you have not waited to find out. "
― , Asimov's Science Fiction, October/November 2011
8 " Fight for her. But more than that… fight for yourself. Don’t be afraid of the disorder that love causes. It crashes around you. It blinds you. It heals you. But, more than anything else, Dillan, when you find the right one, it no longer feels like chaos. It’s like a series of falling dominos that pierces your heart. It elevates you into another plain of existence. All at once you realize you’ve never breathed real life until you truly experience love. Breathe, Dillan. Just… breathe. ~ Tanner Nguyen "
9 " As she passed the recreation room, she saw Mr. Preston, still sitting quietly in his chair, a blanket over his knees. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Fine thanks. Just gonna sit here a little longer, then I’ll head up.” She sat beside him, sharing the silence. “That friend of yours is a good sort,” he finally said. “Nice of him to stop in and say goodbye before going home to his folks.” “He did?” “Ayuh.” “What did he say?” The old man never turned his head to look at her, but the faintest of smiles touched his lips and he sat up a bit straighter in his chair. “He shook my hand and said, ‘Thank you for your service.’ Then he saluted me and left.” Jess felt tears prick her eyes, seeing how very much the gesture had touched this proud, quiet old man. Tanner hadn’t been happy when he’d left here, she knew that, yet he’d taken the time to reach out a hand in friendship and brotherhood to this complete stranger. What a good man. What an amazingly wonderful man. She’d found him twice in her life. Once she’d lost him due to fate and war and bad timing. This time, she’d let him slip right through her fingers. That was a mistake she could rectify. It wasn’t too late. She wouldn’t let it be. "
― , SEAL of My Dreams