No subscription or hidden extras
Read through the most famous quotes by topic #elizabeth
The shortness of life, I keep saying, makes everything seem pointless when I think about the longness of death. When I look ahead, all I can see is my final demise. And they say, But maybe not for seventy or eighty years. And I say, Maybe you, but me, I'm already gone. ↗
Who are you?” Her eyes snapped open, and her voice held a hysterical edge. “Do I even know who you are?” He stepped over Walker’s battered corpse and grabbed her by the shoulders, leaned down so that his no-doubt foul breath washed over her face. “I am your husband, my lady.” She turned her face away from him. He shook her. “The one you promised to obey always.” “Simon—” “The one you said you’d cleave to, forsaking all others.” “I—” “The one you make love to at night.” “I don’t know if I can live with you anymore.” The words were a whisper, but they rang in his head like a death knell. ↗
I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. ↗
#chameleon #elizabeth-woolridge-grant #life #lyrics #moral-compass
Whenever I'm with you it's as though someone has reached inside my chest, until the pain is almost more than I can bear. And when I'm not with you, I'd give anything to feel that way again." He heaved a deep sigh and continued. "But I...I couldn't go another day as I was." "And who are you now?" she asked. "A man hopelessly in love with you. ↗
Griffin, please,” she whispered. “Do you want me?” he asked. “Yes!” She tossed her head restlessly. She’d explode if he didn’t give her release soon. “Do you need me?” He kissed her nipple too gently. “Please, please, please.” “Do you love me?” And somehow, despite her extremis, she saw the gaping hole of the trap. She peered up at him blindly in the dark. She couldn’t see his face, his expression. “Griffin,” she sighed hopelessly. “You can’t say it, can you?” he whispered. “Can’t admit it either. ↗
He treasured her, treasured her tears, treasured her love for others. Her heart might even be big enough to fill that empty space in his own chest. Perhaps she could be his heart as well. ↗
He grunted and stirred, withdrawing from her. She only had a moment to be disappointed and then he flipped her to her back and rose over her, powerful and male. He casually parted her legs with his knees and thrust into her again, hot and hard. She gasped at the swift invasion, the lovely feeling, and then his face was next to hers, his big palms cradling her cheeks. “What I want,” he drawled, “is ye. Nothin’ else. ↗
He was standing so close to her, all six feet plus inches of masculine strength. So solid and safe. Her valiant protector. It seemed only natural to seek the safe enclosure of his embrace. She ran into his arms, burying her head against the hard wall of his chest. He smelled ... wonderful. Warm. Of leather and pine needles and strength. Savoring the distinctly masculine scents, she closed her eyes. Only then did the tears start to fall. ↗
As I said, I don’t expect you to understand—” “And I don’t,” he cut in. “Ye ask how I can live a life that I know will end with the hangman’s noose. Well, at least I am alive. Ye might as well have climbed inside yer husband’s coffin and let yerself be buried with his corpse.” Her hand flashed out before she’d thought about it, the smack against his cheek loud in the little courtyard. Silence had her eyes locked with Michael’s, her chest rising and falling swiftly, but she was aware that Bert and Harry had looked up. Even Mary and Lad had paused in their play. Without taking his gaze from hers, Michael reached out and grasped her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed the center of her palm. He looked at her, her hand still at his lips. “Don’t take to yer grave afore yer time, Silence, m’love. ↗
