Mari

“Auggie said you were too sentimental for your own good sometimes."
Out loud he said, "Perhaps, but you have taught me that sentiment is not always a bad thing."
I stared up at that impossibly beautiful face, and felt love swell up inside me like a physical force. It filled my body, swelling upward until it made my chest ache, my throat tighten, and my eyes burn. It sounded so stupid. But I loved him. Loved all of him, but loved him more because loving me had made him better. That he would say that I had taught him about being sentimental made me want to cry. Richard reminded me at every turn that I was bloodthirsty and cold. If that were true, then I couldn't have taught Jean-Claude about sentimentality. You can't learn, if you don't have it to teach.
He kissed me. He kissed me softly, with one hand lost in the hair to the side of my face. He drew back and whispered, "I never thought to see that look upon your face, not for me."
"I love you," I said, and touched his hand where it lay against my face.”
― Laurell K. Hamilton, Danse Macabre

“Anyone who tells you size doesn't matter has been seeing too many small knives.”
― Laurell K. Hamilton, Narcissus in Chains

“Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,” he said, “That from the nunnery, Of they chaste breast and quiet mind.”
I looked up at him, and said the next line, “To war and arms I fly.”
“True, a new mistress now I chase,” he said.
“The first foe in the field,” I said, and let him draw me closer.
“And with a stronger faith embrace,” he said.
“A sword, a horse, a shield.” And the last word was whispered against his chest, still looking up into those eyes, searching his face.
“Yet this inconstancy is such, As thou too shalt adore,” he whispered against my hair.
I finished the poem with my face pressed against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, that truly beat with my blood. “I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.”
― Laurell K. Hamilton, Incubus Dreams

“One serial killer sends me a human head in a box, and I get all spooked; Go figure.”
― Laurell K. Hamilton, Skin Trade