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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #gavin
Gavin stood within the trees, observing her from the shadows. He watched the basket rise to her nose as she closed her eyes to sniff at its contents. A smile told him it smelled delicious, but she didn’t open the container to pinch off a sample. Instead, the basket lowered to swing at her side as it had previously done. All at once the air was filled with soft singing--a sweet, merry tune comprised of ludicrous lyrics. It was impossible not to grin at the words. “Rainbows paint the sky ‘til the sun melts their colors. Swinging in the wind, whiskered cattails purr. The pigs gallop by and snort at the moon, While frogs kiss the lizards and princesses too.” ↗
Love couldn’t be moved by circumstance, poor choices, or even blatant lies—skewed and damaged, yes, but the heart couldn’t deny what it wanted most once the desire was planted. Whether in bliss or affliction, love owned you all the same. ↗
#destiny #eternal-love #gavin-devereaux #love #resistance-trilogy
Knowing what you know now, I hope that your opinion of your mother hasn’t lessened.” Gavin glanced up, incredulity skewing his eyebrows. His expression appeared both stunned and appalled. “Never, Father! I love her! It makes no difference to me where she came from.” The man nodded, a show of relief in his features. His large hand, though soft in touch, went to brush a string of hair away from his wife’s peaceful profile. “Your mother loves you too, son, more than anything in the world. She worries about you, day and night.” That sentiment stirred something profoundly pleasant inside the boy. He grinned at the internal warmth it created. ↗
In the 21st century men’s tits have not just rivalled but replaced women’s as the touchstone of ‘sexy’ in mainstream pop culture, even when the audience for them is other men. ↗
#mark-simpson #men #metrosexuality #tits #men
When we mated I felt your heart stop beating and it was as if the world had stopped turning. It was only while surrounded by death that I realized I had never felt more alive. ↗
It is a key keeper’s right to bestow a copy of his key on anyone he wishes. But this practice - a phenomenal rite - is hardly ever performed. To receive a copy of the key means to have its imprint seared into your hand. Holding that branded replica over the front lock miraculously parts the gates to Dreamland. It works just as effectively as inserting the genuine key. Staggering to think about, isn’t it? You might consider clenching your fists when you dream. ↗
#dreamland #gavin #key #key-keeper #richelle
And so the game went on in this manner, the throng of children playing keep-away from a bowling ball tossed back and forth across the valley by two plump ogres. The air filled with shrieks and cheers and shouts of laughter as daring players thrilled at the sport. That is, all but the few poor souls knocked dizzy by a bowling ball and captured. No laughter rose from behind bars because those in the birdcage knew what was in store for them - soon to be lunch for a couple of hungry ogres. Now you might be thinking, ‘Wasn’t Gavin swallowed by a wolf earlier? And didn’t he call it fun? And didn’t he tell that raven-haired girl that being swallowed by a bear doesn’t hurt?’ All true, all true. But, here’s a secret you might not know. Ogres chew their food. Luckily, it’s only the first bite that stings. ↗
When the girl didn’t move Gavin summoned her near with his fingers. His heart thrummed as she obeyed, stepping up close to him. Her young stature was much shorter than his tall, wiry form. Gavin regarded her prettiness - pale cheeks, pink lips, inquisitive eyes. Fascinated by her, he longed to know her name. “Who are you?” he asked. He heard the girl utter the same question at the same time. Cocking his head, he claimed, “I asked you first.” “No you didn’t,” she protested, shaking her red-hooded head, “I asked you at the same time you asked me.” Gavin grinned at her insistence. It was hard for him not to chuckle. “Well, then, I suppose we’ll have to go with ‘girls first’.” His grin widened into a white smile. The girl gestured to herself. “I’m Little Red Riding Hood.” He recognized the name of a fairytale character, and groaned under his breath at not having discovered this dreamer’s real name. “Actually,” she confessed almost immediately, “I’m not really Red Riding Hood. My name is Annabelle, but I’m pretending to be her because……well……because this is my dream and that’s what I wish to dream about.” Oh glorious day! He’d learned her name! Annabelle! Annabelle! What a perfectly sweet sound was this utterance of…..Annabelle. ↗
