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Heather S.
https://www.goodreads.com/princesswindex
progress:
(page 129 of 446)
"I got this book as a gag gift. I’m reading it as intended. So far only one dig at liberals! 🙄" — Aug 28, 2019 11:18AM
"I got this book as a gag gift. I’m reading it as intended. So far only one dig at liberals! 🙄" — Aug 28, 2019 11:18AM
“There is a music of the universes in every heart.”
― Enlightenment Step by Step
― Enlightenment Step by Step
“My heartbeat is a pulse, and it pumps out sonic vibrations that resonate with her mind as she lays her head on my chest. Listen silently and you can hear the frequency of love.”
― This Book is Not for Sale
― This Book is Not for Sale
“Wow! This woman is doing a lot of strange things to me and I want more. Much more.”
― Jailhouse Rock
― Jailhouse Rock
“She has her eyes closed, looking lost to the song and completely oblivious to what’s happening around her, or at how she’s affecting everyone in the room. I wonder if she’s aware of how amazing she is?”
― Jailhouse Rock
― Jailhouse Rock
“He considered for a moment, then started to play a piece that was very familiar to Ruth, although she had no idea what it was. It was lilting and wistful, and she could have sung the melody if she had wished.
'Alright?' He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
'Yes. Exactly.'
It was effortless and perfect, and he played it through to the end, closing with the softest and most delicate chords, which hung and faded in the quiet hall like the grains of dust raining through the evening light. Ruth was touched. It was all she had wanted. He did not move until there was complete silence again, then he closed the lid without saying anything, and stood up, shoving back the chair. ... 'What was that piece?'
'A Brahms waltz.'
'Hasn't it got a name?' she wanted it to remember.
'Number fifteen. Opus thirty-nine.'
It hadn't sounded like numbers to Ruth.”
― The Beethoven Medal
'Alright?' He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
'Yes. Exactly.'
It was effortless and perfect, and he played it through to the end, closing with the softest and most delicate chords, which hung and faded in the quiet hall like the grains of dust raining through the evening light. Ruth was touched. It was all she had wanted. He did not move until there was complete silence again, then he closed the lid without saying anything, and stood up, shoving back the chair. ... 'What was that piece?'
'A Brahms waltz.'
'Hasn't it got a name?' she wanted it to remember.
'Number fifteen. Opus thirty-nine.'
It hadn't sounded like numbers to Ruth.”
― The Beethoven Medal
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