Steven Miller Quotes & Sayings

When they reached Fairhaven, Jubal rushed out to collect her. "I knew you shouldn't have gone to that ole trial, Miss Emma," fussed Jubal. "I tried to tell Mr. Steven that. You's makin' a baby, you can't go gallivantin' all over the parish - " Emma might have smiled if her husband hadn't been accused of a murder he didn't commit. As it was, she just let Jubal prattle. She — Linda Lael Miller

I've learned so much from my professors and have been fortunate to have had so many good ones, including Frederick and Steven Barthelme, Edward Carey, Jim Magnuson, and Elizabeth McCracken. — Mary J. Miller

Emma shifted her gaze to Steven, sitting just ahead of her at a table, Garrick Wright beside him. As though sensing her perusal, Steven shifted in his chair to look back at her, and to her utter amazement, he winked. She pursed her lips, amazed that he could take so serious a proceeding so lightly. He mimicked her dour expression, then turned to face the front of the courtroom again. The — Linda Lael Miller

The driver tried to help Emma down, but he found himself elbowed aside by a tight-jawed Steven. "Where the hell have you been?" Emma's husband demanded, grasping her shoulders in his hands. Emma met his eyes steadily. "What do you care?" she countered. His hands came to rest on her cheeks. "I care," he answered. Emma pulled away from him and started to walk into the house, but he caught hold of her hand and pulled her back. "We're going to talk," he announced, and then he dragged her around the front of the house, through the complex and well-tended garden, where Lucy liked to spend time when she was having a good day. He didn't stop until they'd reached the screened summerhouse, which was practically overgrown with wisteria. Opening — Linda Lael Miller

Maybe. Because he's got to try. Because she is too interesting, too beautiful not to even do anything. — Joe Meno

What has six balls and screws Texans? The Texas Lottery. — Kinky Friedman

He had a hundred arms that broke into a hundred thousand fingers, and all of his fingers reached up into the sky. The weight of the sky was heavy on his shoulders. — Neil Gaiman

By God, if I were twenty years younger," he thundered, "I'd drag you outside and horsewhip you!" Steven — Linda Lael Miller

She came into the room, carrying a kerosene lantern this time, and Steven couldn't help cringing when he thought of the damage that could do. But — Linda Lael Miller

You'd like some soothin', wouldn't you, Mr. Fairfax?" she asked in a sympathetic voice. A raw chuckle left his throat as he thought of Emma forcing this poor little minx into a calico dress and an old lady's snood. "I sure would, Callie," he answered honestly, "but I'm afraid there's only one woman I want." A mischievous grin curved Callie's mouth. "Miss Emma?" "The same," Steven admitted with a sigh, "but don't you tell her. I want this to be our little secret." Callie sat down in the chair Emma always occupied when she read to him. He found himself missing that redheaded hellcat with a fierce keenness, as though they'd been parted a month instead of a few hours. "She got real upset, Miss Emma did," Callie confided in a happy whisper, "when I came over here and told her Miss Chloe'd sent me to look after you." Steven laughed. "Good," he replied, staring out the window at the sun. It seemed to be immersing itself in the far side of the lake. "I'm making progress." Callie — Linda Lael Miller

Steven maneuvered the horse among the cattle that strayed from the herd as easily as if Emma hadn't been mounted in front of him, whistling and waving his hat at times. In calmer moments, he told Emma about Fairhaven, his home in Louisiana. He told her how many children they were going to have, and exactly where each one would be conceived. When they got to Spokane, he promised, he was going to take a hotel room and keep her tossing on the mattress for a full day and night. Emma — Linda Lael Miller

Death the deliverer freeth all at last. — Sophocles

Marriage is the miracle that transforms a kiss from a pleasure into a duty. — Helen Rowland

So the mythological imagination moves as it were in circles, hovering either to find a place or to return to it. In a word, mythology is a search; it is something that combines a recurrent desire with a recurrent doubt, mixing a most hungry sincerity in the idea of seeking for a place with a most dark and deep and mysterious levity about all the places found. — G.K. Chesterton

I don't believe this," Emma said, temper flaring. "I came all this way to help you and you're scolding me like a child!" "I've got half a mind to take you over my knee and paddle you." He took another swallow of the whiskey and made a lusty sound of satisfaction as it went down. "You wouldn't dare." Steven flinched as the needle made its first pass through his skin. "Ask Joellen Lenahan about that." Emma — Linda Lael Miller

We cannot conduct reforms that affect the people adversely. If therapy drags out for decades and no gleam of light is seen, it is certainly not in the interests of the country, not in the interests of the people. — Yevgeny Primakov

If you don't take me with you," she said, "I will follow you to New Orleans, and if you don't believe me, just wait and see. I won't be left behind, Steven." A muscle in his jaw bunched in suppressed anger; Steven knew Emma meant what she said. "All right, then, we'll compromise. We'll be married when we get to Spokane. That'll give you some protection against Macon, but remember this, Emma - if they hang me, don't wait around for the funeral. Macon wasn't bluffing - the minute the life goes out of me, he'll take you to bed, whether you want to go or not." Emma — Linda Lael Miller

Daisy was still lingering in the kitchen when they arrived, and when she saw Steven she shook a wooden spoon at him. "I raised this chile to be a good girl," she warned. "Don't you go messin' with her, hear?" The beginnings of a grin quirked Steven's lips, but he didn't quite give in to it. "Yes, ma'am," he said. Emma — Linda Lael Miller

When she twisted around to face Steven, he was grinning at her. "What?" she demanded. "Never mind." She realized she'd displayed her derriere, after a fashion, and the blood flowed to her face again. "Skunk," she said. "You're crazy about me," Steven retorted with an impish grin. "Get into the water," Emma said impatiently. "I'm due back at the library and I haven't had anything to eat." Steven got to his feet painfully and started untying the belt of Big John's blue flannel robe. Emma whirled away, her hands over her eyes, and Steven laughed. "Sorry," he said. Emma did not turn around, but stood hugging herself, her chin high. — Linda Lael Miller

My eldest sister Beth is a doctor who studied at Harvard and Columbia and played basketball for Harvard. She set the athletic and academic standard for the rest of us to follow. — Abby Wambach

Steven laid Emma gently on the carpet of daisies to take the little flagon from her hand. She watched, half bewitched, as he removed the stopper and touched it ever so lightly to the pulse point at the base of her throat. The lush woodsy scent rose to her nostrils, and Emma closed her eyes to savor this new pleasure. Steven stretched out beside Emma and kissed the place he had just perfumed, one hand resting brazenly on her bare breast. She swallowed a moan, for there was still some vestige of pride held prisoner in a dark part of her heart. The perfume touched the sensitive place beneath her right ear then, and as before, Steven followed the scent with his lips. Emma — Linda Lael Miller

Emma knew what was going to happen if she didn't break away, and she used every shred of her willpower to turn from Steven and run through the daisies, her arms outspread. She'd gone only a few yards when she stumbled over something and went sprawling. She was laughing when she rolled over and started to sit up, and her plump breasts strained against her bodice. Before she could begin the arduous process of untangling herself from her skirts and struggling back to her feet, Steven was kneeling beside her on the ground. He reached out slowly to touch her braid. "God in heaven, but you're beautiful," he rasped, and it was as though he begrudged the words. "Who are you, Emma? Where did you come from?" She — Linda Lael Miller