It isn't God who's evil-it's us.......Everyone wants to know where evil comes from and why the world is riddle with it. Why doesn't anyone ask where goodness comes from? Human beings have a tremendous capacity for cruelty. Why is there any goodness at all? Why are people like Grace and Richard so kind? Because there's a God, and he hasn't allowed the earth to be entirely corrupted. There are sticky like leaves, if you look for them. And when you recognize them, you can feel his presence.
Sylvain ReynardMy dad is here," She hissed, hoping to give Gabriel enough of a head start so he could make it to the elevators before Tom took out one of his hunting rifles and shot him.
"I know, I called him."
She turned to Gabriel in wide-eyed disbelief. "Why would you do that? He wants to kill you."
The Professor pulled himself up to his full height. "I want to marry you. That means that I need to make amends with your father. I want to be able to be in the same room without him attempting to shoot me. Or castrate me.
I'm going to kill you." Gabriel pointed at Tristan.
"For what?" Tristan raised a brow at his twin. "It's not like I asked Scarlet to come lie on top of me. I woke up and she was just...there.
They needed a plan. And manpower.
They needed Tristan
Gabriel?” I said.
“Yeah?” His voice was breathless.
“Kiss me.
Were Gabriel and I going to fall in love? Be together forever? Live our lives happily as soul mates? Who the hell knew something like that? I
sure didn’t. I can’t see the future.
All I knew was that I would love finding out.
Well, I can feel superior for my good deed.” I flashed him a smile. “How’s that for a selfish reason?
Kim HarringtonStichwörter: gabriel
Things could change, Gabe," Jonas went on. "Things could be different. I don't know how, but there must be some way for things to be different. There could be colors. And grandparents," he added, staring through the dimness toward the ceiling of his sleepingroom. "And everybody would have the memories."
"You know the memories," he whispered, turning toward the crib.
Garbriel's breathing was even and deep. Jonas liked having him there, though he felt guilty about the secret. Each night he gave memories to Gabriel: memories of boat rides and picnics in the sun; memories of soft rainfall against windowpanes; memories of dancing barefoot on a damp lawn.
"Gabe?"
The newchild stirred slightly in his sleep. Jonas looked over at him.
"There could be love," Jonas whispered.
Stichwörter: love colors gabriel
The Angelfucker strikes again.
Sylvain ReynardStichwörter: love gabriel julia gabriel-s-inferno sylvain-reynard
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