The sunshine filtered in through the billowing white curtains. Tatiana knew there would be only an instant, a brief flicker of time that bathed her with the possibilities of the day. In a moment it would all be gone. And in a moment it was. Still...that sun streaking through the room, the distant rumble of buses through the open window, the slight wind. This was the part of Sunday that Tatiana loved most: the beginning.
Paullina SimonsBut on that sunlit Sunday, Alexander knew nothing, thought nothing, imagined nothing. He forgot Dimitri and war and the Soviet Union and escape plans, and even America, and crossed the street for Tatiana Metanova.
Paullina SimonsMots clés love
Please don't die," she whispered. "I don't think I can bury
you. I already buried everyone else."
"How can I die," Alexander said, his voice breaking, "when you
have poured your immortal blood into me?
Mots clés love heartbreaking
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...But I’m telling you, something happens to beautiful people. They think that something extra is owed to them by life, by God, by all the people around them. They think their life has to be better, more dramatic, happier—in color, not black and white.
Paullina SimonsEveryone wishes their life were happier.”
Lily shook her head. “No. Not like beautiful people. They walk this earth, their chin up to the rest of us, and think that great happiness, great love, great joy is their right and their prerogative. Passion as the entitlement of the beautiful, the way power is the entitlement of the rich.” Lily paused. “Especially when it comes to love. Beauty and love become somehow synonymous. How can plain people have great love? They can’t, that’s how. They can have average love, mediocre love, but their hearts can’t soar. Only beautiful hearts can soar.”
“I think you’ve hit on the nail right there,” said Spencer. “Beautiful people don’t necessarily have beautiful hearts.”
“But it doesn’t matter, don’t you see? You don’t fall in love with a heart. You fall in love with a woman’s face, with her body, with her hair, with her smell. That’s first, everything else is secondary. My mother’s beauty when she was young was so extreme that she didn’t understand how every man who met her didn’t love her in extremis.
Tania, you are my miracle, you know that, don't you? You are the one God send me to give me faith.-He paused- He sent you to redeem me, to confort me, and to heal me-and that's just so far.
Paullina SimonsYou have amazing gifts. Don't squander them. Don't give them out meaninglessly, don't abuse them, don't take them for granted. You are the weapon you carry with you till the day you die.
-Tatiana and Alexander
Mots clés wwii russia truelove tatianaandalexander
Where your treasure is, there your hear will be also
Paullina SimonsEn el tapiz de la existencia de Alexander había un único hilo que no podría romperse con la muerte, el dolor, la distancia, el tiempo, la guerra o el comunismo. «No hay nada capaz de romperlo —susurró Tatiana. Y con su aliento, su cuerpo y sus labios, añadió—: Mientras yo esté en el mundo, mientras respire, tú perdurarás, soldado.»
Paullina SimonsMots clés amor
Harry leaned back, his hat over his inscrutable face.
“Well?” Ben nudged him. “Thomas Paine, or a nubile beauty from Sicily?”
“Clearly Thomas Paine. I’d be asleep now in my bed.”
“Do you remember the name of the street they live on?”
“Let’s see...Crazy Street? Cuckoo Street? Commitment Street? Cranial Injury Inflicted by Enraged Sibling Street?”
“Canal Street! Thank you.”
“I’m going to stop speaking.”
“Harry, admit it, if you weren’t so utterly uninterested in all women save Alice, you would be sitting on this train yourself.”
“Ben Shaw, I hate to point out the startlingly obvious, but I am sitting on this train myself.”
“Exactly!”
“Ugh.”
“I’m surprised to learn that Lawrence is the world leader in the production of cotton and woven textiles. Are you?”
“Stunned.
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