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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
Lucy Christopher
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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Deep
Eyes
Secret
Eye
Wanted
Secrets
Blue
More quotes by Lucy Christopher
The land wants you here. I want you here, you called. Don't you care about that at all?
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There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars.
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I was surprised at her gentleness, her willingness to give in.
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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
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And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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This be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
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Where are you going? I asked. The middle of nowhere. I thought this was it. Nah. You shook your head. This is just the edge.
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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
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I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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You looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.
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If there'd been an astronaut on the moon right then, I'm sure I could have seen him. Perhaps he could have looked down and seen me too... the only one who could.
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I want you to see that the person I glimpsed running beside the camel, running to save my life, is the person you can choose to be.
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.
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I mean, that star over there is blinking at me madly now, but for how long? An hour or two, or for the next million years? And how long will we sit here like this? Just another moment, or the rest of our lives? You know which one I'd prefer.
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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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But what else can I do, other than to plead with you like this? Other than to write down my story, our story, to show you that what you've done . . . to make you realize that what you did wasn't fair, wasn't right.
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How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
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You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
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