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1 " How dare you! What is your name? I shall make it a sin to be spoken.”The braveness of his chuckle and grin made me step back. “Garrett. My name is Garrett and please make my name a sin to speak. Maybe that way I won’t have people like you screaming out for people like me "
2 " You’re a people pleaser, aren’t you? You’re the type that can’t stand someone not liking you and showing it.” Raising his head, he laughed openly now.“That’s just...” I wanted to take a book from the shelf beside me and throw it at him. “I don’t even have a word—”“Then I suggest you read a little more so you can find the word you’re looking for.” He hid his chuckle behind a fist. "
― Kate Evangelista , Til Death (Fractured Souls, #1)
3 " I am so not kissing you tonight,” she informed him.He chuckled softly. And if she thought his smile wasdangerous, his chuckle should’ve been classified as a biologicalweapon. Sin in a sound wave.“But now you’re thinking about what it would be like, ain’tyou?” he said.“Only my stupid parts. "
― Jamie Farrell , Smittened (Misfit Brides, #3)
4 " Bloom of adulthood. Try a whiff of that. On your back in the dark you remember. Ah you remember. Cloudless May day. She joins you in the little summerhouse. Entirely of logs. Both larch and fir. Six feet across. Eight from floor to vertex. Area twenty-four square feet to the furthest decimal. Two small multicoloured lights vis-a-vis. Small stained diamond panes. Under each a ledge. There on summer Sundays after his midday meal your father loved to retreat with Punch and a cushion. The waist of his trousers unbuttoned he sat on the one ledge and turned the pages. You on the other your feet dangling. When he chuckled you tried to chuckle too. When his chuckle died yours too. That you should try to imitate his chuckle pleased and amused him greatly and sometimes he would chuckle for no other reason than to hear you try to chuckle too. Sometimes you turn your head and look out through a rose-red pane. You press your little nose against the pane and all without is rosy. The years have flown and there at the same place as then you sit in the bloom of adulthood bathed in rainbow light gazing before you. She is late. "
― Samuel Beckett , As the Story Was Told (Beckett Short)
