Dianne Sylvan

I will protect you," she promised the Bosendorfer inside. "I won't let you down."Sophie gave her a quizzical look."Bastards better not hurt my piano," Miranda replied."That's what you're worried about right now? What about your boyfriend?

By the grace of the Lady, whose face mirrors my own, may I ever remember I am made in her image, blessed and beautiful.

It was your body....that danced at your first drum circle; it was your body that gave birth to your child; it was your body that got down and dirty in the back seat of your dad's station wagon; it was your body that shivered, sweated, clasped its hands, fell to its knees, wept, and laughed the first time you felt the presence of the goddess in your life.

...she is careful who she sleeps with, because only those willing totreat her witht he same reverence are worthy of her attention....you are the Goddess, and "all acts of love and pleasure" are your rituals

Consider the holiness of your hands. They are how you do your work on this earth; they are a microcosm of the hands of the Goddess, and can change the world as easily as hers can.

At heart we are all powerful, beautiful, and capable of changing the world with our bare hands.

...But we also believe that part of our mission in life is to find our bliss and follow it. Life is a precious and delicate gift. How much of that gift do we squander out of fear?

Gossip was usually a mindless distraction from a far too serious world.

faith gaped at him"how the hell did you do this?" He looked at her as if she'd asked the dumbest question in history. "I'm brilliant.

What about you? If I asked you . . . would you turn me?"Faith's eyes went wide. "Turn you into a vampire?""No, turn me into a frog. Could you do it?"Faith finished her beer in one long swallow. "I might be able to, physically. But I wouldn't."Miranda had known she would say that, but still, her heart sank. "Why not?"She laughed. "Because my boss would kill me.

He wondered if perhaps, subconsciously, he was trying to sabotage her efforts by setting the bar too high, trying to keep her with him longer; but surely his subconscious wasn't that stupid?

She was famous, and she was insane.Her voice soared out over the audience, holding them spellbound and enraptured, delivering their hopes and fears tangled in chords and rhythm. They called her an angel, her voice a gift.She was famous, and she was a liar.