Choose language

Forgot your password?

Need a Spoofbox account? Create one for FREE!

No subscription or hidden extras

Login

#richelle

Read through the most famous quotes by topic #richelle




The woman laughed again. She was the loudest person in the cave. Eena wondered if perhaps she was talking to a female Ghengat. Curiosity got the best of her and she turned around to look, surprised to find neither a Ghengat nor a Harrowbethian woman, but a Mishmorat. A striking, cheetah-spotted Mishmorat with straight lengths of charcoal hair and the most alluring dark eyes. This bronzed woman was the same size as Eena but exceptionally muscular. She appeared to be a mix of cheetah, Arabian princess, and gladiator in tight-fitting pants. Eena paused, dropping the stone in her hands. “Kira?” she breathed. “Hmmm,” the woman grumbled. Her painted eyes scrunched with displeasure. The look was still stunning. “I see my reputation precedes me.” Eena gawked as if a legendary ghost had been resurrected. “You’re alive?


Richelle E. Goodrich


#eena #kira #legends #richelle #richelle-goodrich

Why Roses Crave Thorns" Petals detach from a wilting bud—a single stem plucked before fully blossomed. They descend in hesitant swirls, too soft and limp to shatter like teardrops. One by one they light to blanket a single shadow below. She is a rose, young and innocent, with beauty incomparable to shame all others. She has flowered enough to stop the observer in his tracks, awestruck. He is compelled to reach out and touch. The petals delight at a silken caress, her bud everything desirable but defenseless—without a sharp edge to make an admirer pause, to warn the intrusive hand. ‘Stay back! Stay back!’ His fingers curl around the stem to tug, and suddenly the rose craves a thorn. It is madness not to want her and yet madness to cut her down. Let the flower thrive and blush to someday flaunt layers of silken favors! But the world will not have it. A single stem is severed in a selfish moment of desire—a yearning to hold and possess. Alone and forgotten her petals cry, raining in hesitant swirls where they accumulate to blanket her shadow below. Dry, withered, craving the thorns. Beautiful no more.


Richelle E. Goodrich


#richelle #richelle-goodrich #rose #thorns #verse

Life has moments that feel as if the sun has blackened to tar and the entire world turned to ice.  It feels as if Hades and his vile demons have risen from the depths of Tartarus solely for the purpose of banding to personally torture you, and that their genuine intent of mental, emotional, and spiritual anguish is tearing you to shreds.  Your heart weighs as heavily as leaden legs which you would drag yourself forward with if not for the quicksand that pulls you down inch by inch, paralyzing your will and threatening oblivion.  And all the while fire and brimstone pour from the sky, pelting only you.   Truly, that is what it feels like. But that feeling is a trial that won't last forever.  Never give up.


Richelle E. Goodrich


#depression #fortitude #hardship #hope #inspirational

Honestly, half the reason I like you is because you’re so...I don’t know. You like life.” He looked away from my eyes, amused as his thoughts spun, considering. “You’re fearless. Bold. Not afraid to enjoy yourself. You just go out there and do what you want. I like the whirlwind you exist in. I envy it. It’s funny, really.” He smiled. “I used to think I wanted someone exactly like me, but now I think I’d be bored to death with another version of myself. I’m surprised I don’t bore you sometimes.” I gaped. “Are you kidding? You’re the most interesting person I know. Aside from Hugh maybe. But then, he installs breast implants and buys souls. That’s a hard combination to beat. But he’s not nearly as cute.


Richelle Mead


#richelle-mead #succubus-on-top #death

Since when do we even play games?” “Since when don’t we play games? Games of life, games of death. Games of love, of hope, of chance, of despair, and of all the myriad wonders in between.” I rolled my eyes at the newcomer. “Hello, Carter.


Richelle Mead


#richelle-mead #succubus-on-top #death

There is a point when the anguished soul finally despairs.  A moment in life when the heart, the will, even the spirit crumbles.  Some say that after much grief and drowning in tears, it is possible to pick up the pieces and carefully repair what was shattered. I say nay.  For the chains of despair have no key, and the soul destroyed by that monster can never hope to be unaffected.  There are things done that cannot be undone.


Richelle E. Goodrich


#destruction #grief #hopelessness #pain #richelle

There are many who don't wish to sleep for fear of nightmares. Sadly, there are many who don't wish to wake for the same fear.


Richelle E. Goodrich


#fear #hardship #nightmares #richelle #richelle-goodrich

There are far too many silent sufferers.  Not because they don't yearn to reach out, but because they've tried and found no one who cares.


Richelle E. Goodrich


#despair #hopelessness #richelle #richelle-goodrich #suffering

Happily-ever-afters don't come in happily-every-days. They are found at the end of challenges-ever-met, promises-ever-kept, and tears-ever-wept.


Richelle E. Goodrich


#happiness #joy #richelle #richelle-goodrich #richelle-goodrich

Yes, of course we could all use some help. There isn't a person alive without a need. So don't ask the silly question, just figure out how you're going to help and do it!


Richelle E. Goodrich


#compassion #giving #help #kindness #need






back to top