#mary

I would have stolen it for you, had I known you were interested." His voice was muffled by the door to the lumber room down the hallway, and I heard thumps and a crash. I raised my voice a trifle more than mere volume required. "I'm interested because she was. Both of them, come to that--Damian's art is infused with mystic symbols and traditions." Holmes' voice answered two inches away from my ear, making me jerk and spray a handful of maps across the floor. "Religion can be a dangerous thing, it is true," he remarked darkly, and went out again. ↗

— Laurie R. King

#mary-russell #religion #sherlock-holmes #art

In Illinois, community, migrant, homeless and public housing health centers operate 268 primary care sites and serve close to 1 million patients every year. ↗

— Jan Schakowsky

#centers #close #community #every #health

One of my primary objects is to form the tools so the tools themselves shall fashion the work and give to every part its just proportion. ↗

— Eli Whitney

#fashion #form #give #just #objects

Love never comes just a little bit at a time, I thought, as I watched him, absorbed in contemplation of the Virgin. The previous day, the world made sense, even without love's presence. But now we needed each other in order to see the true brilliance of things. ↗

— Paulo Coelho

#need #virgin-mary #love

Alexander, of whom men tell many legends, lived by his own. Achilles must have Patroklos. He might love his Briseis; but Patroklos was the friend till death. At their tombs in Troy, Alexander and Hephaistion had sacrificed together. Wound Patroklos, and Achilles will have your blood. ↗

— Mary Renault

#the-persian-boy #death

To her, saving grace meant you got to live out your life like a normal person: You were healthy and strong, an the prospect of death was just some far-off, barely acknowledged hypothetical. A debt to be paid off in a future you couldn't imagine ↗

— J.R. Ward

#death

Don’t cry, Mary,” Eden croaked. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” My lip quivered as I softly replied, “You’re dying. How could I not cry?” I didn’t hear Lucas walk up behind me, but he put his hand on my shoulder for comfort. I sniffed back tears as I looked at my aunt lying helplessly in the hospital bed. I took in a sharp breath as Eden’s glassy eyes searched mine. “I love you,” Eden said weakly, coughing into her shaking hand. “I love you, too,” I whispered. “But this isn’t goodbye. Don’t say goodbye,” I pleaded. ↗

— B.C. Doyle

#til-death-do-us-part #death

Blessed with the love of a good man, I felt equal to anything - even the prospect of living out my days in the Antipodes. ↗

— Jennifer Paynter

#jane-austen #jennifer-paynter #love #lucky #mary-bennet

I did not have an opportunity to speak privately with Peter until just as he was leaving, when he handed me one of the Burns song-sheets and (with a most earnest look) told me to read it before I went to bed. The song was 'My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose,' but it was not until was up in my bedchamber that I saw he had written on the inside page: 'My mother would be honoured if you visited her after church tomorrow. ↗

— Jennifer Paynter

#jane-austen #jennifer-paynter #love #lovers #mary-bennet

It was now twenty minutes past four in the morning, allowing for the fact that the clock in the library of his town house was four minutes slow, as it had been for as far back as he could remember. He eyed it with a frown of concentration. Now that he came to think about it, he must have it set right one of these days.Why should a clock be forced to go throught its entire existence four minutes behind the rest of the world? It was not logical.The trouble was though, that if the clock were suddenly right, he would be forever confused and arriving four minutes early -- or did he mena late? -- for meals and various other appointments. That would agitate his servants and cause consternation in the kitchen. It was probably better to leave the clock as it was. ↗

— Mary Balogh

#mary-balogh #romance #humor