Aggggh I'm crying ｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡
“Forgive me,” he said again. “I did not want it. It was not you. I did not—I did not like it.”
Hearing it soothed the last of the jagged grief that had begun when
Deidameia shouted his name. My throat was thick with the beginning of
tears. “There is nothing to forgive,” I said.
'' Question for you, Neil. Do I look dead to you?" He pointed up at his face, waited for Neil to answer, and didn't seem surprised when Neil didn't. "Here."
Andrew beckoned Neil closer as if he wanted to show Neil something on his phone's small screen. He flipped the phone open one-handed and pressed down hard on a single button. There was silence, then the distant hum of Andrew's phone dialing out. Between them Neil's phone started to sing. The words were different than Andrew's ringtone, but the voice was the same. Neil knew it was from the same miserable song. The lyrics hurt just as much as Andrew's had. Neil stared down at the phone and let it ring.
"Your phone is ringing," Andrew said. "You should answer it."
Neil picked it up with numb fingers and opened it. He spared only a second to look at Andrew's name on the screen before he answered and put it to his ear.
"Your parents are dead, you are not fine, and nothing is going to be okay," Andrew said. "This is not news to you. But from now until May you are still Neil Josten and I am still the man who said he would keep you alive.
"I don't care if you use this phone tomorrow. I don't care if you never use it again. But you are going to keep it on you because one day you might need it." Andrew put a finger to the underside of Neil's chin and forced Neil's head up until they were looking at each other. "On that day you're not going to run. You're going to think about what I promised you and you're going to make the call. Tell me you understand."
professor had told me, something a mathematician with a difficult name once said: “math has proven the existence of god, because it is absolute and without contradiction; but the devil must exist as well, because we cannot prove it.” the professor’s body had been consumed by the devil of mathematics.
"I'm going to kill him, malysh. It's going to be slow, and it's going to be painful. Just give me his name."
Listen well, Mon Chaton. You must never let anyone steal your "true name". Your true name is the formula that shapes your very being. In other words it is your life itself.
Amazing
many blacks had the name of their slave owner as their last name, so malcolm changed his last name from little to x. for him it was a way of saying goodby to slavery.
Sayfa 41 - oxford
Redfoo - New Thang
Yeah
Oh
Foo!
Let's go oh!
Ooh, the way that you pop girl
Makes me go cray, show me what you got, girl
You could be my new thang
Ooh, the way that you move
-Her name is something... Valentine
-It's Jill.
“Do they have a name? What are they called?” I asked curiously.
The mushrooms that would help me the most were only rumored to even exist. I could use a less potent variety, but I wasn’t entirely sure how well it would work.
He turned to me with a tired and heavy expression.
“Destroying angels.”
Young Martin did not agree with his father. 'If you want to change things, you have to act,' he thought. He knew himself what segregation meant. When he was very small, he played with a little white boy across the street from his house. His friend's name was Warren. When Martin started schoolş, he looked for Warren, but he was not there. After school he went to Warren's house and asked to play with him. The boy's mother said that Martin could not play with Warren any more, because Martin was black and his friend was white. When Martin came home that day, he was cryign. He told his mother what had happened. 'It doesn't matter what other people think,' she told him, 'you're as good as anyone else. Don't you ever forget that!'
Sayfa 4 - oxford
He felt a different person, and much fiercer and bolder in spite of an empty stomach, as he wiped his sword on the grass and put it back into its sheath.
"I will give you a name," he said to it, "and I shall call you Sting."
Sayfa 181 - Bilbo Baggins
“I’m sorry.” The stinging in my eyes was welling over now. He couldn’t do this. Not like this. “I’m so sorry, Leon, please, please don’t —”
“Don’t say you’re sorry.” His voice was just a whisper as he backed away, putting distance between us as if he was afraid I’d cling to him again. “No human is ready for forever, and forever is all I have. But you gave me a part of your life, when mortal lives are so short.” He laughed softly. “I suppose saving your soul could be as good as owning it, so you’d better fucking survive.” He glanced back at the trees, as a freezing wind ruffled his hair and another cry shattered the night. As the awful sound faded away, he said, “You should know that I love you, for whatever that’s worth. Stay alive. Don’t waste that mortal life.”
That was where he left me, standing there in the door with tears streaming down my face and his name in my hand.
Rae-Leon.Kitabı okudu
ULAN ANDREW ULAN ANDREW
''Your phone is ringing,'' Andrew said. ''You should answer it.''
Neil picked it up with numb fingers and opened it. He spared only a second to look at Andrew's name on the screen before he answered and put it to his ear.
''Your parents are dead, you are not fine, and nothing is going to be okay,'' Andrew said.
''This is not news to you. But from now on until May you are still Neil Josten and I am still the man who said he would keep you alive.
Mutlu huzurlu pazarlar...
Girl with the Moon and Star Ring. Sunbeams in the city sky. Moon shine The night is too late. I think about you… I miss you. Morning coming. Dying lights. In this mirror that is our city Who are you… What's your name. Tell me.. Tell me how I find you. But I leave that to fate. I leave it to chance. maybe I'll find you...
“You used to come out here and feed your fairies,” he said. “You believed in something you couldn’t see, something you couldn’t grasp. I did too, once. Boulevard du Temple, Paris. 1755. There was a young man with a violin and fire in his heart. I believed, with such certainty, he would be mine. And I was young. So much imagination.” He shook his head. “Humans grow old so quickly. Your lives are the blink of an eye when you see all eternity stretched out before you. Yet I kept bringing honey to something I couldn’t hold, I couldn’t possess. He died.” He nodded, as if to remind himself that it was true. “His fire was gone. So easily. And then my name was called by strangers, to Cairo. By the time I’d freed myself, and went back to France…” He fluttered his hand. “I never found his grave. I searched. I haunted the cemeteries so long they began to tell stories of me. Zane found me there.” He shook his head. “He dragged me back to Hell. Told me I was mad. Mad for a human whose soul I could never possess.”
“Leon…” I didn’t know what to say. It had been centuries, but his voice was still rough with pain. So many years, and a single human death haunted him.
Ironic that a killer would be tortured by a death.
“I’ve spent enough time haunting graveyards,” he said. “If you gave me your soul, neither gods nor men could take you from me. And that frightens you.”
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