121
" I’m killing Zil. Clear enough? I’m putting him down.”
“Whoa, man,” Edilio said. “That’s not what we do. We’re the good guys, right?”
“There has to be an end to it, Edilio.” He wiped soot from his face with the back of his hand, but smoke had filled his eyes with tears. “I can’t keep doing it and never reaching the end.”
“It’s not your call anymore,” Edilio said.
Sam turned a steely glare on him. “You too? Now you’re siding with Astrid?”
“Man, there have to be limits,” Edilio said.
Sam stood staring down the street. The fire was out of control. All of Sherman was burning, from one end to the other. If they were lucky it wouldn’t jump to another street. But one way or the other, Sherman was lost.
“We should be looking to save any kids that are trapped,” Edilio said.
Sam didn’t answer.
“Sam,” Edilio pleaded.
“I begged Him to let me die, Edilio. I prayed to the God who Astrid likes so much and I said, God, if You’re there, kill me. Don’t let me feel this pain anymore.”
Edilio said nothing.
“You don’t understand, Edilio,” Sam said so softly, he doubted Edilio could hear him over the roar and crackle of the fire raging all around them. “You can’t do anything else with people like this. You have to kill them all. Zil. Caine. Drake. You just have to kill them. So right now, I’m starting with Zil and his crew,” Sam said. “You can come with me or not. "
― Michael Grant , Lies (Gone, #3)
126
" Easy come, easy go,That's just how you live, oh,Take, take, take it all,But you never give.Should've known you was troubleFrom the first kiss,Had your eyes wide open.Why were they open?Gave you all I had and you tossed it in the trash,You tossed it in the trash, you did.To give me all your love is all I ever asked, 'causeWhat you don't understand isI'd catch a grenade for yaThrow my hand on a blade for yaI'd jump in front of a train for ya You know I'd do anything for yaOh, oh, I would go through all of this pain,Take a bullet straight through my brain!Yes, I would die for ya, baby,But you won't do the same. "
127
" Brian came in heavy at that moment on his guitar, the rapid, high-pitched squeal ranging back and forth as his fingers flew along the frets. As the intro's tempo grew more rapid, Bekka heard Derek's subtle bass line as it worked its way in. After another few seconds Will came in, slow at first, but racing along to match the others' pace. When their combined efforts seemed unable to get any heavier, David jumped into the mix.
As the sound got nice and heavy, Bekka began to rock back-and-forth onstage. In front of her, hundreds of metal-lovers began to jump and gyrate to their music. She matched their movements for a moment, enjoying the connection that was being made, before stepping over to the keyboard that had been set up behind her. Sliding her microphone into an attached cradle, she assumed her position and got ready. Right on cue, all the others stopped playing, throwing the auditorium into an abrupt silence. Before the crowd could react, however, Bekka's fingers began to work the keys, issuing a rhythm that was much softer and slower than what had been built up. The audience's violent thrash-dance calmed at that moment and they began to sway in response.
Bekka smiled to herself.
This is what she lived for. "
― Nathan Squiers , Death Metal
128
" Yes beyonce, thank you very very much!!!Growing up wasn’t easy for me, even as a boy, then as a black boy, then it was even harder as a black boy who lives in Africa. You might think that white privilege is more prevalent in America but no, it is worse here in Africa were white people are literally worshiped as gods.While growing up as a boy in my teens, i had serious self esteem issues, i didn’t like the color of my skin, i didn’t like my hair, i didn’t like my butt, and i was a boy!!! can you believe it? in 2007 i even tried bleaching my skin, lucky for me i bought a fake bleaching cream, translation, it didn’t work. I dyed my hair blonde several times.But after a while i started to get my self esteem in place, the fact that i had so many white folks as friends at that time didn’t help, truth is most white people living here in Africa claim not to be racist but when you catch that stare, hear that comment, see the way they react, you can smell racism all over them. I can give you a simple example, I had a white friend years ago who was an exec at a big oil company here in Nigeria, I had just graduated and needed a job, I spoke to him about it and y’all wont believe what he suggested, well, he suggested I work as his steward.You see, a lot of Nigerians will jump at it, but i smelt racism all over that offer and i wasn’t gonna be a slave to a white man who still had slave-owner tendencies, he totally undermined my degree and felt i was better off as his “slave”.When Beyonce dropped ‘formation’ i was blown away, never before have i felt more proud to be black!!! and now her ‘lemonade’ album is here and it is everything the black community needs. Beyonce has ‘black’ going mainstream, her lemonade album has white girls wishing they were black, getting tans, dying their hair black, talking gangster etc. black is the new black.I really do appreciate what bey has done for the black race, now black men and women will walk the streets, heads held high in all their blackness and be proud!!! THANKS BEY!!! "
130
" The storm is passing over us. Do you want to go to the bayou this night?” he asked softly, separating her hair deftly and beginning to weave it into a thick braid.
She loved the feel of his hands in her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp, tugging so gently on the thick length of braid. She reached up to place a palm over her bare shoulder, the exact spot where his lips had touched her. “I would love to go to the bayou with you.”
He smiled at her, his silver eyes molten mercury. “We can observe wildlife for a change. No vampires.”
“No weird society types,” she added.
“No mortals in need of rescuing,” Gregori said with intense satisfaction. “Get dressed.”
“You’re always taking my clothes off, then telling me to get dressed again,” Savannah complained with her infuriating smile, that little sexy one that drove him mad.
He turned her around to face him, caught the front of her shirt, and drew the gaping edges together to cover her tempting body. “You cannot expect me to dress you myself, do you?” he asked, leaning down to brush her lips with his. She actually felt her heart jump in response. Or maybe it was his heart. It was nearly impossible to tell the difference anymore. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Magic (Dark, #4)
134
" I’m getting off the boat at Coconut Grove. It’s six and you’re not on the dock. I finish up, and start walking home, thinking you’re tied up making dinner, and then I see you and Ant hurrying down the promenade. He is running and you’re running after him. You’re wearing a yellow dress. He jumps on me, and you stop shyly, and I say to you, come on, tadpole, show me what you got, and you laugh and run and jump into my arms. Such a good memory.
I love you, babe. "
― Paullina Simons , The Summer Garden (The Bronze Horseman, #3)
140
" When I go to sea, I go as a simple sailor, right before the mast, plumb down into the forecastle, aloft there to the royal mast-head. True, they rather order me about some, and make me jump from spar to spar, like a grasshopper in a May meadow. And at first, this sort of thing is unpleasant enough. It touches one's sense of honor, particularly if you come of an old established family in the land, the van Rensselaers, or Randolphs, or Hardicanutes. And more than all, if just previous to putting your hand into the tar-pot, you have been lording it as a country schoolmaster, making the tallest boys stand in awe of you. The transition is a keen one, I assure you, from the schoolmaster to a sailor, and requires a strong decoction of Seneca and the Stoics to enable you to grin and bear it. But even this wears off in time.
What of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, weighed, I mean, in the scales of the New Testament? Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain't a slave? Tell me that. Well, then, however the old sea-captains may order me about—however they may thump and punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right; that everybody else is one way or other served in much the same way—either in a physical or metaphysical point of view, that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all hands should rub each other's shoulder-blades, and be content. "
― Herman Melville , Moby-Dick or, the Whale
