Maybe that was all there ever will be just that one weekend and forever this unfinished feeling...
Anne RiceI resolved to move just a little bit more slowly through the world, to look around myself with greater care, and to try to remain conscious of all that was going on around me at all times.
Anne RiceFear is only good when you have a choice in things.
Anne RiceMots clés fear
His breathing was heavy and he was somber. He shivered still, and when his hand found me it was unsteady.
"Ah," I said smiling still, and kissing his shoulder.
"I hurt you!" he said.
"No, no, not at all, sweet Master," I answered. "But I hurt you! I have you, now!"
"Amadeo, you play with the devil."
"Dont you want me to, Master? Didn't you like it? You took my blood and it made you my slave!"
He laughed. "So that's the twist you put on it, isn't it?"
"Hmmm. Love me. What does it matter?" I asked.
"Never tell the others," he said. There was no fear or weakness or shame in it.
Mots clés the-vampire-armand
I tucked my arm under my head and started crying like a child. I was perishing from exhaustion. I was worn and miserable and I loved crying. I couldn’t do anything else. I gave in to it fully. I felt that profound release of the utterly grief-stricken. I didn’t give a damn who saw or heard. I cried and cried.
Anne RiceI was too miserable to take much consolation just from feeling good for a moment in a welter of shudders and salted, bloodstained tears.
Anne RiceHe bent close to me, and suddenly kissed me, in a manner that seemed entirely childlike and also a bit European.
Anne RiceAnd time would open up to us and we would be the teachers of one another. All the things that gave you happiness would give me happiness; and I would be the protector of your pain. My power would be your power. My strength the same. But you're dead inside to me, you're cold and beyond reach!
Anne RiceOh, but when love is reached through suffering, it has a power it can never gain through innocence.
Anne RiceI saw the great sparkling orbs of his eyes, the tiny red veins that reached for the dark centers, that warm hand burning my cold hunger as he guided me to a chair. And then all around me I saw faces blazing, faces rising in the smoke of the lamps, in the shimmer of the burning stove, a wonderland of colors on canvases surrounding us beneath the small, sloped roof, a blaze of beauty that pulsed and throbbed.
Anne RiceMots clés interview-with-the-vampire
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