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The only place their voices were left was in my head. It was better than being alone but it was so, so lonely.
Lilith Saintcrow
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Lilith Saintcrow
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: January 1
Author
Novelist
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New Mexico
United States
Anna Beguine
Lili St. Crow
Voices
Lonely
Head
Alone
Voice
Left
Place
Better
More quotes by Lilith Saintcrow
Graves: It’s going to snow. Dru Anderson: Thanks for the warning. Graves: Hey, no problem. First one’s free.
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I looked like a ghost. And I should know. I’ve seen a few.
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Better to be strong than pretty and useless.
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Some of the djamphir are so pretty it almost hurts to look at them. And it was hard to look without feeling rumpled and messy in comparison.
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What you can't run away from, you have to face
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Are you listening, little bird?
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The end of a gun looks very big and very back when it's staring you in the face.
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It was stealing her breath, imbecile. Go get a towel. -Christophe, Strange Angels by Lili St. Crow
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Oh, dear me. Nathalie sank back down in the chair and examined her Uggs. The sarcasm could've started dripping off her and stained the floor. Is it conspiracy, treachery, murder, or open warfare? I'll have to choose my lipstick accordingly.
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The smell of apple pies didn't quite fill the house, but it was there, a thread under everything else. It was kind of hard to take Christophe seriously when he smelled like baked goods. I wondered if other djampjir smelled like Hostess Twinkies and sniggered to myself.
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I went to the entrance to the restroom, where the hallway did a sharp bend so nobody could peek into the girls' pee-palace.
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He laughed. The laugh could strip the skin off an elephant in seconds.
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His shoulder bumped mine again. Can I ask you something? I didn't answer. He was going to ask me anyway. People don't say that if they don't want to pry something out of you.
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Touch me again, and it will be your last act in life - Blue Eyes.
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His thumb stroked my cheek. My eyes half-closed. When he spoke next, it was very softly, his voice an almost-physical caress against my whole body. My flesh tightened like a harpstring. I swallowed hard against the wave of liquid heat. How can I possibly be jealous when I know you spent your time grieving for me, Dante?
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I wondered what I’d end up looking like once I bloomed. I couldn’t even guess. If I had to be stuck in my own skinny, gawky, coltish body forever… well. It probably wouldn’t be so bad. I wouldn’t mind a little more in the chest, though. But wild horses wouldn’t drag that out of me. Ever.
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There was Kir, red hair combed back and That Expression on his sharp face. Even his freckles looked serious. I'd given up wondering how a freckle-faced teenager could look so much like a disapproving granny.
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People don’t really want to know anything about you. They just want you to fit into their little predetermined slots. They decide what you are in the first two seconds, and they only get nervous or upset if you don’t live up to their snap judgments.
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And you know, I believed him. What girl wouldn't?
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Christophe, with the careful tone of an adult telling a kid not to pet the nice foaming-rabid pooch.
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