Another flash of recognition sped through her mind. It__ him, her thoughts whispered through the fog of arousal. And she wanted to know who he was. What else he could do for her. What he__ feel like inside her. What he would unleash within her.
This is a love story, Michael Deane says. But, really, what isn__? Doesn__ the detective love the mystery, or the chase, or the nosy female reporter, who is even now being held against her wishes at an empty warehouse on the waterfront? Surely the serial murderer loves his victims, and the spy loves his gadgets or his country or the exotic counterspy. The ice trucker is torn between his love for ice and truck, and the competing chefs go crazy for scallops, and the pawnshop guys adore their junk just as the Housewives live for catching glimpses of their own Botoxed brows in gilded hall mirrors, and the rocked-out dude on __oids totally wants to shred the ass of the tramp-tatted girl on Hookbook, and because this is reality, they are all in love__adly, truly__ith the body mic clipped to their back buckle, and the producer casually suggesting just one more angle, one more Jell-O shot. And the robot loves his master, alien loves his saucer, Superman loves Lois, Lex, and Lana, Luke love Leia (till he finds out she__ his sister), and the exorcist loves the demon even as he leaps out the window with it, in full soulful embrace, as Leo loves Kate and they both love the sinking ship, and the shark__od, the shark loves to eat, which is what the Mafioso loves, too__ating and money and Paulie and omerta` --the way the cowboy loves his horse, loves the corseted girl behind the piano bar, and sometimes loves the other cowboy, as the vampire loves night and neck, and the zombie__on__ even start with the zombie, sentimental fool; has anyone ever been more lovesick than a zombie, that pale, dull metaphor for love, all animal craving and lurching, outstretched arms, his very existence a sonnet about how much he wants those brains? This, too, is a love story.
Beautiful Ruins
Quote Detail
This is a love story, Michael Deane says. But, really, what isn__? Doesn__ the detective love the mystery, or the chase, or the nosy female reporter, who is even now being held against her wishes at an empty warehouse on the waterfront? Surely the serial murderer loves his victims, and the spy loves his gadgets or his country or the exotic counterspy. The ice trucker is torn between his love for ice and truck, and the competing chefs go crazy for scallops, and the pawnshop guys adore their junk just as the Housewives live for catching glimpses of their own Botoxed brows in gilded hall mirrors, and the rocked-out dude on __oids totally wants to shred the ass of the tramp-tatted girl on Hookbook, and because this is reality, they are all in love__adly, truly__ith the body mic clipped to their back buckle, and the producer casually suggesting just one more angle, one more Jell-O shot. And the robot loves his master, alien loves his saucer, Superman loves Lois, Lex, and Lana, Luke love Leia (till he finds out she__ his sister), and the exorcist loves the demon even as he leaps out the window with it, in full soulful embrace, as Leo loves Kate and they both love the sinking ship, and the shark__od, the shark loves to eat, which is what the Mafioso loves, too__ating and money and Paulie and omerta` --the way the cowboy loves his horse, loves the corseted girl behind the piano bar, and sometimes loves the other cowboy, as the vampire loves night and neck, and the zombie__on__ even start with the zombie, sentimental fool; has anyone ever been more lovesick than a zombie, that pale, dull metaphor for love, all animal craving and lurching, outstretched arms, his very existence a sonnet about how much he wants those brains? This, too, is a love story.
Quick Answer
What this quote page tells you
This canonical quote page keeps the full saying, the attributed author, any linked work, and the topic tags together so the quote can be cited from one stable URL.
Related Quotes
More quote cards from the same area
Xavier had thought he was in paradise before. He__ been wrong. Sophia was more than paradise. She was the very reason he breathed.
He shivered beneath her touch, and his jaw clenched. It pleased her. Her longing rose to the surface, and an unfamiliar emotion overcame her. It swam beneath her skin, lighting little flickers of recognition. It was the same heat__he same feeling__hat had made her run the night before. Not this time, though. This time she would own it. Embrace it. Ride it. Enjoy it.
You__e my true north. No compass would point me in any other direction but to you.
It was her. No one had eyes like that. Eyes as pure as the sky on a fresh, wintery morning. Ones that sucked him in and refused to let go. No one had her touch. Feather light and warm. A touch that sizzled his insides and brought him to his knees.And no one had that pure, simple, cherry-vanilla scent. The sweetness that was only her, like she was a dessert made just for him. To lick, nibble, and enjoy.
A smile curled the corner of Xavier__ mouth. __ou didn__ think I would let her walk out of my arms without knowing I would see her again soon, did you?__ryant shrugged. __ell, no. I guess not. What are you going to do now?__he lid of the case slammed shut, and Xavier jerked his vibrating phone back out of his pocket. __ell, as soon as I get these fires extinguished, I__ going to go start one with her.__ryant laughed. __fter this long, that__l be one hell of a raging inferno.___ hope so.