A Quote by Rachel Caine

You look like a Goth factory exploded all over you!" he called as she ran down the hall. "Love you, too, jackass! — © Rachel Caine
You look like a Goth factory exploded all over you!" he called as she ran down the hall. "Love you, too, jackass!
I think the trick is, how do you spend time doing it but make it look like you haven't spent time doing it? Over the years you look at women like Lauren Hutton and everyone says: 'She just pulled her hair back and ran out of the door.' I've been in fittings with Lauren and she definitely thinks about it. She just knows how to make it look easy.
I can draw pencil lines to show something is moving, but if I'm writing, I struggle with how to write it. The boy ran down the hallway? The boy ran quickly down the hallway? The boy ran down the marble hallway? I agonize over the words. So my editor works very hard. I'm lucky to have her.
And I will not be beaten by that jackass." "Jackass?" said Foaly, wounded. "My favorite uncle is a jackass.
Down the hall came the wife. She was glorious, burning. She didn't know yet that her husband was dead. We knew. That's what gave her such power over us. The doctor took her into a room with a desk at the end of the hall, and from under the closed door a slab of brilliance radiated as if, by some stupendous process, diamonds were being incinerated in there. What a pair of lungs! She shrieked as I imagined an eagle would shriek. It felt wonderful to be alive to hear it! I've gone looking for that feeling everywhere.
Doug returned five minutes later and shook his head. "Sorry kid. She's single, but she doesn't think you're her type. She's into the Goth and vampire scene. You're too mainstream for her." I was sipping a glass of water and nearly choked on it. "That," said Peter, as soon as Doug was gone, "is what we call irony." "How is that possible?" exclaimed Cody. "I am a vampire. I should be exactly what she wants." "Yeah, but you don't look like one," I said. If Gabrielle had been a Trekkie, he might have had a shot tonight.
Yet losing him seemed unbearable. He was the one she loved, the one she would always love, and as he leaned in to kiss her, she gave herself over to him. While he held her close, she ran her hands over his shoulders and back, feeling the strength in his arms. She knew he’d wanted more in their relationship than she’d been willing to offer, but here and now, she suddenly knew she had no other choice. There was only this moment, and it was theirs.
I love Gwen Stefani. I'd watch what she'd wear over and over again and think, 'How do I nail this style?' And then, I like that classic beauty, too. Audrey Hepburn, she's so elegant.
I came from dinner, went downtown with my friends, the elevator was down, I ran down the hall toward my room at 10 at night, having had two glasses of wine.
Teasingly she took the apple from his mouth. Juice ran down his chin. Slowly, deliberately, she leaned over and licked the sweet juice from his chin. I will have to admit though, that I will never look at an apple in quite the same way.
People expect you to be with stars like Beyoncé. Obviously she's amazing, but you can't get starstruck as there's too much build-up to it. It's like, 'Clear the corridor so she can walk down it!' And she's like some fembot. There's too much faff and you end up thinking, 'Who cares?' If I was chatting to Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall about chickens I'd be much more excited, as I love him.
I am already in a couple Hall of Fames, like the Michigan Hall of Fame and the Dan Gable Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame, so my accolades speak for themselves. Let's just say I'm not losing any sleep over any Hall of Fame induction.
The Goth character was a difficult thing to get my head round. I'm not really a fan of Goth music. I'm more a piano and guitar man - that's what I love.
When he held her that way, she felt so happy that it disturbed her. After he left, it would take her hours to fall asleep, and then when she woke up she would feel another onrush of agitated happiness, which was a lot like panic. She wished she could grab the happiness and mash it into a ball and hoard it and gloat over it, but she couldn't. It just ran around all over the place, disrupting everything.
The factory of love encompasses all, but on some days, does it seem to be one of suffocation, squeezing its target too tightly? And on other days not tight enough? Or maybe that is the breath of a living love knowing when to protect, when to release, and when to protect again. For we are the products of an active love - the Father the creator, the Son the perfecter, the Spirit the supervisor - but just like in a factory, to deny the process is to ultimately create a defect of oneself.
Turning the heat up on the red carpet while still looking like a lady isn't as easy as it sounds. Too much va-va-voom, and a girl can look like she just stepped out of 'Jersey Shore.' Too little, and she'll look like a sister wife.
I was, like, talking to these kids, and I look up, and there was, like, 25 cameras around me. And I ran. I ran away. I, like, straight up ran away, and I was so scared, and then, like, it happened, and after I was done, it kinda sunk in.
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