#ture

He speaks in that strange sports talk, telling me about the start of the new season and asks if I follow baseball. No. I really don’t. He assures me if I stay in town long enough I will become a baseball fan. It’s a requirement of living in St. Louis. Everyone is a Cardinal’s fan. “Loyal,” he tells me. St. Louis is a loyal town. ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#cardinals #contemporary #gothic #historical-fiction #missouri

One second she’s all timid, and then reeoowr! Hellcat. ↗

— Carrie Butler

#crossover-fiction #mark-of-nexus #mature-ya #new-adult #paranormal

My hopes for pie died on the sidewalk. There went my grin. ↗

— Carrie Butler

#crossover-fiction #mark-of-nexus #mature-ya #new-adult #paranormal

I mean, that was the code, wasn’t it? Single girls and taken guys weren’t allowed to be friends. The leash always got in the way. ↗

— Carrie Butler

#crossover-fiction #mark-of-nexus #mature-ya #new-adult #paranormal

She wandered out for a walk. It was the kind of day that pretends spring has come, even though it hasn't. The air smelled sweet, and the sun was shining. A blackthorn tree in the garden had already bloomed and was scattering seeds everywhere, like a child feeding birds in a dizzying circle. ↗

— Eloisa James

#beauty

Throughout the hours of the night, though there had been few to hear it, the whole sky had been loud with the singing of these constellations. ↗

— Thornton Wilder

#nature #nightsky #stars #beauty

Only those who leave home ever really find it. ↗

— Gene Ruyle

#life-experience #psychology-of-self #experience

The path turned a hard right and then dumped into a rocky stream. It looked as if a giant had tossed white boulders and the rocks the way children toss marbles. They lay in scrambled heaps, some as large as carriages, others the size of chamber pots. A weak stream trickled around them. ↗

— Eloisa James

#beauty

The ancient rhythms of the earth have insinuated themselves into the rhythms of the human heart. The earth is not outside us; it is within: the clay from where the tree of the body grows. ↗

— John O'Donohue

#nature #one #beauty

She wore a loose-fitting purple velvet Pre-Raphaelite gown, and her abundant dark-brown hair flowed down her back and shoulders to her waist. As she drew near, I noticed her warm brown eyes peeping at me beneath lush, un-plucked brows, her smiling red lips and smooth, un-powdered cheeks almost begging for kisses. She possessed a beauty much different from Daisy, more like a wildflower in the unspoiled earth than a prize-winning rose in a formal garden. However, her Pre-Raphaelite fashion might have been an affectation of a different kind, a bit closer to nature but a stylish imitation just the same. ↗

— Gary Inbinder

#neo-victorian #pre-raphaelite #beauty