Apostolopoulos In London Quotes & Sayings

Rourk didn't even know her name, but he knew he'd never seen anyone so magnificent in his life. Her wavy hair glistened in the sunlight. She had a delicate, round face with large, blue-green eyes and full lips. With her cheeks flushed from the cold fall air, she reminded him of a porcelain doll. He knew that her looks deceived; her bold, daring eyes gave her away. She constantly observed her surroundings. Rourk smiled to himself; soon they would be together. — Julia Crane

I lost my father this past year, and the word feels right because I keep looking for him. As if he were misplaced. As if he could just turn up, like a sock or a set of keys. — Mark Slouka

We're moving so fast." "No," he said gently. "We're just moving at the speed of us. — J. Kenner

I would love you all the day, every night we would kiss and play, if with me you'd fondly stray, over the hills and far away. — John Gray

Men are born and die. Kingdoms soar and crumble. Yet still the sun rises and sets. Few things are sure, but that there will always be a tomorrow and everything that has a beginning, also has an end. — N. Gemini Sasson

An act of terrorism
is not an ideology,
nor religion.
It is the lack of hope,
of opportunity
and of love.
When there is no recourse,
no other way
there is only insurrection.
Understanding, compassion
and respect for all life
is what will save us all. — Mahima Martel

I once terminated a partnership with a chap who proved
unreliable. As a matter of fact, I terminated him. — Edward Bernds

In New York, you are forced into having very public lives and observing all types of people, what they sound like, what they're reading, what they smell like, what they are listening to, how they talk to their friends. — Nick Kroll

Interpretative thoughts settle on a bare sensory perception like a swarm of blue-bottles on an open wound. — Nanamoli Thera

This was thieves' cant. Mosca was a lover of words, and she had a sneaking liking for the grimy panache of cant, and those who wore it like a ragged red cloak. — Frances Hardinge