#nigh

Well then, take this thought with you for the dark hours to come: It is a ludicrous fiction that love conquers all, but it can, in fact, conquer quite a lot. I am Iason of the Blood, Knight of Arthur, King of the Britons, reborn into dark service in the year of Our Lord five hundred and sixty. My power is vast, and for none to arrogate but by my will and decree. My services are engaged, Selina. Tell me what you need to ease your pain in this, and it is yours. ↗

— Chris Dee

#knight #love-conquers-all #magick #power #wizard

She loved his laughter. She loved that he faced the world with a reckless smile on his scarred face. Her heart crashed against her chest. A revelation descended. A revelation unrelated to the desire heating her blood. ↗

— Anna Campbell

#seven-nights #sidonie #love

Once the door closed, Tod turned to me. “Girlie, he is fine. He’s fine times twelve. He’s the new definition of fine.” “I’ve been in love with him since I was five,” I told Tod. “I’m in love with him now. I want to have his children,” Tod told me. ↗

— Kristen Ashley

#lee-nightingale #tod #love

For a more than miffed Midnight, fate was for emperors, fools and soppy lovers: - fate was the self-important egotism of those doing well, the sheer unbearable arrogance of the living and loved. ↗

— Tom Conrad

#arrogance #chance #destiny #fate #fools

I said, I like my life. If I have to give it back, if they take it from me, let me not feel I wasted any, let me not feel I forgot to love anyone I meant to love, that I forgot to give what I held in my hands, that I forgot to do some little piece of the work that wanted to come through. (complete poem; http://anotherhand.livejournal.com/15...) ↗

— Marge Piercy

#love

The night folded around them with a sweetness and poignancy heightened by the new pale stars that prickled silver fire in the water of the lily ponds, by the scented winds, and by the nearness of each other. ↗

— Pauline Gedge

#love #night #love

We love against the night, burning like stars against the darkness of bread and circuses. ↗

— David Paul Kirkpatrick

#love #night #love

Je t'aime, Lottie. Plus qu'un zloty." I hesitate, not sure what to say. "Well, it's a start...." "'I love you, Lottie, More that a zloty'?" Lorcan translates incredulously. "Seriously?" "Lottie's a difficult rhyme!" Richard says defensively. "You try!" "You could have used 'potty,'" suggests Noah. "'I love you, Lottie, Sitting on the potty.'" "Thanks, Noah," says Richard grouchily. "Appreciate it. ↗

— Sophie Kinsella

#wedding-night #love

Well, I suppose that consequently makes you my favorite nightmare. ↗

— Katja Michael

#love #nightmare #love

See, phrenology is this old Victorian science, which claimed you could determine the dominant traits of a man's personality by studying the bumps on his head. The size and position of these bumps indicated different personality traits. See? Now, /retro-phrenology/ says, why not change a man's personality by hitting him on the head with a hammer, till you raise just the right bumps in the right places!" "One of us needs a lot more drinks," said Alex. "That's starting to make sense. ↗

— Simon R. Green

#john #nightside #phrenology #taylor #change