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What was the good of having such a fine home if you weren't willing to fight for it?

Ann Aguirre

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Ann Aguirre
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: August 27
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
the United States of America
Ellen Connor
Ava Gray
Willing
Fighting
Home
Good
Weren
Fight
Fine

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Then in the interest of full honesty, I really wish you'd kiss me right now.
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Yet sometimes being a friend meant letting people do things that hurt, like putting distance between you, just because it made them happy.
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I'll always want him. Until every sun goes dark in every sky, until I am nothing more than long-forgotten cosmic dust, I will want him. And even then I suspect my particles will long for his.
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Before he bent his head, I knew what he was going to do. Touch his lips to mine. Oh, and I wanted him to... I stilled, hardly daring to breathe. The old refrain of cant and shouldn't sank beneath the weight of new worlds like please and yes.
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We’re bound by chains of love, but they don’t weigh us down. Instead, they allow us to be bigger and better than we are.
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A huntress never stabbed anything she didn't want to.
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Just . . . love me, and let tomorrow look after itself.
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I'm Sirantha Jax, and I have had enough.
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You don’t know what it’s like to be alone until you’ve had someone inside your head.
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You could miss someone, but it did no good to fixate on loss. I wished I had the ready words of a Breeder or the ability to comfort with a soft touch. I didn't. Instead I had daggers and determination. That would have to do.
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Sometimes I could almost hate you because you don't understand how much you mean to me, how dark and empty I was before. Solnyshko moyo.
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Beautiful. And ugly. The world is always both.
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Once exposed, a secret loses all its power.
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Show, not tell, right? Action, not words. You don’t want to hear how sorry I am or how things will be different this time. You want to see it with your own eyes. And until I can show you that, you won’t tell me what I want to hear.
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. . . and I don’t expect him to suborn his life into mine any more than I would change my dreams for him. We’re not one soul, one being, however much we love each other.
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While sight may deceive you, touch rarely does.
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There are quiet ways to die where the body just doesn’t notice that the heart is gone.
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You ever have that feeling? Like you’ve known someone your whole life but you don’t know them at all.
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We stood back-to-back, blocking and striking in harmony sometimes it felt like his arms and legs were an extension of me. I could count on him to keep them off me from behind.
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They say funerals are not for the dead but for the living. Those rites are what permit you to move on, so if you don't deal with the remains, you can never deal with the memories. That might be true we may have walked in their dust down on Venice Minor, but it's not the same as a proper good-bye.
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