"Do you intend to always let your adviser make your decisions for you?”
“No,” said Kai, allowing a cold smile. “Eventually, I’ll have an empress for that.”
Queen Levana’s gaze softened, and Kai barely bit back his next words. And it won’t be you.
"In the evening, when she was exhausted from working, they took away her bed, and she had to lie next to the hearth in the ashes."
📚🔔 Tatil zili çaldı!
Bir yıl boyunca verilen emeklerin ardından şimdi dinlenme, keşfetme ve yeni maceralara atılma zamanı. 🌞
Bu yaz bol kahkahalı, bol anılı ve elbette bol kitaplı geçsin. Tüm öğrencilere keyifli tatiller diliyoruz! 💙📖
your son is gonna die in the next war... habeas corpus
Gelecek nesille ilgilenmiyorum canım. Ben bizimle ilgileniyorum
I'm not interested in the next generation, dear. I'm interested in us.
‘Mrs Craven loved that garden, and only she and Mr Craven went in there,’ Martha said. ‘There was a big, old tree in the garden. Mrs Craven often sat in it and read. One day she fell out of the tree. She died the next day. After that, Mr Craven didn’t see anybody for months. He closed the garden and he threw away the key to the door. Now nobody can go in there. He doesn’t want us to talk about it.’
what's source material? armstrong's ass.. lol.
MUSTAFA KEMAL was twenty, wiry in build, with a tough constitution and unlimited vitality.
He had no experience of life. Salonika had been a mean little port; Lazaran a country village; Monastir a dull provincial town. He had none of his mother's deep beliefs or principles to keep him steady.
At once he plunged wildly into the unclean life of the great metropolis of Constantinople. Night after night he gambled and drank in the cafes and restaurants. With women he was not fastidious. A figure, a face in profile, a laugh, could set him on fire and reaching out to get the woman, whatever she was.
Sometimes it would be with the Greek and Armenian harlots in the bawdy-houses in the garbage-stinking streets by Galata Bridge, where came the pimps and the homosexualists to cater for all the vices; then for a week or two a Levantine lady in her house in Pangaldi; or some Turkish girl who came veiled and by back-ways in fear of the police to some maison de rendez-vous in Pera or Stambul.
He fell in love with none of them. He was never sentimental or romantic. Without a pang of conscience he passed rapidly from one to the next. He satisfied his appetite and was gone.
He was completely Oriental in his mentality: women had no place in his life except to satisfy his sex. He plunged deep down into the lecherous life of the city. Suddenly he reacted from all this rioting and concentrated on his work with the same energy.
