Clapped Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
She was prepared for him to shut her down, when Behr shrugged a shoulder and said, 'Yeah, sounds good. I think it's a good idea for you to get out of the house. But, ' he said, stepping back into the kitchen and leveling her with a hard look, 'only if I tag along.' 'What? Why?' Cheyenne questioned, not understanding the need for chaperones. 'Because it's safer that way, ' he reasoned. 'I have a couple things to take care of first, so it will probably be a day or two. I expect you to wait for me, though, Cheyenne, ' he said, his brilliant blue eyes holding her in place. 'It's safer that way.' She was preparing to argue when she realized that she wasn't altogether sure she wanted to venture out on her own yet anyway. It might be a shock to her system after locking herself away for so long. For laughs, she decided to give him a hard time anyway. 'But... ' she started. He cut her off with an upraised hand. 'No buts, ' he said sternly. 'It's not safe and you know it, and besides, that's what you have two strapping young men like us for.' He clapped a grinning Dehstroy on the back. Cheyenne threw her head back and laughed. 'You, young? Ha!' 'What?' Behr said, acting offended. 'I'm young.' 'Prove it, ' Cheyenne challenged. 'Show me your birth certificate.' When he pursed his lips, she laughed some more. 'What's wrong? Didn't they make birth certificates yet when you were born? No?' She looked between the men, taking in their sheepish expressions. 'Well, then. I'll leave you two to work on clearing that schedule.' Waving, Cheyenne left the kitchen and headed upstairs to her room to lie down.

Brandi Salazar
Alec isn't happy, ' said Magnus, as if she hadn't spoken. 'Of course he isn't, ' Isabelle snapped. 'Jace-' 'Jace, ' said Magnus, and his hands made fists at his sides. Isabelle stared at him. She had always thought that he didn't mind Jace; liked him, even, once the question of Alec's affections had been settled. Out loud, she said: 'I thought you were friends.' 'It's not that, ' said Magnus. 'There are some people - people the universe seems to have singled out for special destinies. Special favors and special torments. God knows we're all drawn toward what's beautiful and broken; I have been, but some people cannot be fixed. Or if they can be, it's only by love and sacrifice so great it destroys the giver.' Isabelle shook her head slowly. 'You've lost me. Jace is our brother, but for Alec - he's Jace's parabatai too -' 'I know about parabatai, ' said Magnus, his voice rising in pitch. 'I've known parabatai so close they were almost the same person; do you know what happens, when one of them dies, to the one that's left-' 'Stop it!' Isabelle clapped her hands over her ears, then lowered them slowly. 'How dare you, Magnus Bane, ' she said. 'How dare you make this worse than it is -' 'Isabelle.' Magnus' hands loosened; he looked a little wide-eyed, as if his outburst had startled even him. 'I am sorry. I forget, sometimes... that with all your self-control and strength, you possess the same vulnerability that Alec does.' 'There is nothing weak about Alec, ' said Isabelle. 'No, ' said Magnus. 'To love as you choose, that takes strength. The thing is, I wanted you here for him. There are things I can't do for him, can't give him... ' For a moment Magnus looked oddly vulnerable. 'You have known Jace as long as he has. You can give him understanding I can't. And he loves you.' 'Of course he loves me. I'm his sister.' 'Blood isn't love, ' said Magnus, and his voice was bitter. 'Just ask Clary.

Cassandra Clare
Little Red-Cap At childhood's end, the houses petered out into playing fields, the factory, allotments kept, like mistresses, by kneeling married men, the silent railway line, the hermit's caravan, till you came at last to the edge of the woods. It was there that I first clapped eyes on the wolf. He stood in a clearing, reading his verse out loud in his wolfy drawl, a paperback in his hairy paw, red wine staining his bearded jaw. What big ears he had! What big eyes he had! What teeth! In the interval, I made quite sure he spotted me, sweet sixteen, never been, babe, waif, and bought me a drink, my first. You might ask why. Here's why. Poetry. The wolf, I knew, would lead me deep into the woods, away from home, to a dark tangled thorny place lit by the eyes of owls. I crawled in his wake, my stockings ripped to shreds, scraps of red from my blazer snagged on twig and branch, murder clues. I lost both shoes but got there, wolf's lair, better beware. Lesson one that night, breath of the wolf in my ear, was the love poem. I clung till dawn to his thrashing fur, for what little girl doesn't dearly love a wolf? Then I slid from between his heavy matted paws and went in search of a living bird - white dove - which flew, straight, from my hands to his hope mouth. One bite, dead. How nice, breakfast in bed, he said, licking his chops. As soon as he slept, I crept to the back of the lair, where a whole wall was crimson, gold, aglow with books. Words, words were truly alive on the tongue, in the head, warm, beating, frantic, winged; music and blood. But then I was young - and it took ten years in the woods to tell that a mushroom stoppers the mouth of a buried corpse, that birds are the uttered thought of trees, that a greying wolf howls the same old song at the moon, year in, year out, season after season, same rhyme, same reason. I took an axe to a willow to see how it wept. I took an axe to a salmon to see how it leapt. I took an axe to the wolf as he slept, one chop, scrotum to throat, and saw the glistening, virgin white of my grandmother's bones. I filled his old belly with stones. I stitched him up. Out of the forest I come with my flowers, singing, all alone.

Carol Ann Duffy
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