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Jones looks like he wants to slug me, which is only subtly different from his usual way of looking at me like I'm a slug.
Holly Black
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Holly Black
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: November 10
Journalist
Novelist
Writer
New Jersey
United States
Wants
Looking
Looks
Different
Slug
Way
Slugs
Like
Subtly
Jones
Usual
More quotes by Holly Black
She looks honestly upset, but then, I’ve learned that I can’t read her. The problem with a really excellent liar is that you have to just assume they’re always lying.
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Yeah, the whole family knows. It's no big deal. One night at dinner I said, 'Mom, you know the forbidden love that Spock has for Kirk? Well, me too.' It was easier for her to understand that way.
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She sat in the dew-damp grass and ripped up clumps of it, tossing them in the air and feeling vaguely guilty about it. Some gnome ought to pop out of the tree and scold her for torturing the lawn.
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Instead, it just reminded her that sometimes there were no good choices.
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You want me to say something? Okay. Sometimes I think I am what you made me. And sometimes I don’t know who I am at all. And either way I’m not happy.
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There is nothing for her beyond those gates, Gavriel said. Do you think to bring her along like a talisman to remind you of your humanity? Or do you think sharing your damnation will lighten the burden of it?
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Some promises aren’t worth keeping.
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Ah coffee. The sweet balm by which we shall accomplish today's tasks.
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He must have been handsome when he was alive and was handsome still, although made monstrous by his pallor and her awareness of what he was. His mouth looked soft, his cheekbones as sharp as blades, and his jaw curved, giving him an off-kilter beauty. His black hair a mad forest of dirty curls.
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Love changes us, but we change how we love too.
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She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air.
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I hate that everyone calls it growing up, but it seems like DYING.
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He looks like the good boy he's never been.
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We’re all dying, Cassel. It’s just that some of us are dying faster than others.
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She can’t help it. She loves the con. I tell myself I’m not like her, but I have to admit I love it too.
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I'm afraid that whatever I touch is spoilt by the contact. I'm not scared of being spoiled, Val said.
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I’m Lila, and yes, he’s crazy. But you must have noticed that before now. He was crazy back when I knew him, and he’s obviously gotten crazier over time.
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It’s just that you go so crazy being alone like that. Sometimes he’d forget my water or food and I’d cry and cry and cry.” She stops talking and looks out the window. “I would try to tell myself stories to pass the time. Fairy tales. Parts of books. But they got used up.
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I'm sorry I kissed you- it was selfish and it upset you- but you can't ask me to pretend I didnt want to.
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I drive him to school, then I break back into Barron's house. I'm the best kind of thief, the kind that leaves behind items equal in value to those he's stolen. Then I go home and shave until my skin is as slick as any slickster's.
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