Blake > Recent Status Updates

“Because it would be the first proof I’ve ever heard of that a lack of faith has any kind of power at all.” This book is already awesome. Every single character has had a different voice. I love Geralt. I love Nenneke.

I’m reading this because it’s in my Kindle library and I forgot to bring my book with me today.
“My purple eyes and white hair reflected off the mirrored walls.”
We’re off to a very Wattpad start 😬

Every time I start enjoying the book, something like this happens:
Her naked, ebony body … third-world plastic surgeon … well beyond anything that could ever be considered natural. Or sexy … The colossal breasts sat atop the table like a pair of pigs suckling against their mother. Her nipples faced downward, her areolas absurdly oversized, even on the massive breasts, each the size of a DirectTV satellite dish.

I’m having a problem with Dungeon Crawler Carl! It’s very misogynistic so far. The Goblin Shamanka must either fuck or cook/eat her parents. “And most don’t choose cook.” And I understand that the argument could be “well CARL isn’t misogynistic, the game is”But it’s not making fun, it’s presented as fact.
Carl is FULLY capable of pointing out things that are wrong with the game. But he’s not.

“Not necessary. I heard everything you said to my manservant.”

“Actually, I’m comforted by the idea. A need for revenge can burn long and hot. Especially if every glance in a mirror reinforces it.”

“Her pen had a heart inside, and the nib was a wound in a vein.”

“I pour you into things.”
THE HILL??? ARE WE KIDDING?????!!!!

“There’s a kind of time travel in letters, isn’t there? … Do I have you still? Do I address empty air and the flies that will eat this carcass?”

“Panem et Circenses”

“That doesn’t seem very fair to the deer,” I say.
“Wouldn’t be using it on deer, would I?” He answers.

“And now Coin, with her fistful of precious nukes and her well-oiled machine of a district, finding it’s even harder to groom a Mockingjay than to catch one.”

“‘Are you actually defending them?’ …
That stings, because, in fact, I am, and it’s ridiculous. I struggle to find a logical position. ‘I guess I’m defending anyone who’s treated like that for taking a slice of bread.’ … Still, he’s right … I should hate them and want to see them strung up. But they’re so clueless, and they belonged to Cinna, and he was on my side, right?”

“Time and tragedy have forced her through grow too quickly, at least for my taste, into a young woman who stitches bleeding wounds and knows mother can hear only so much.”

“As I drift off, I try to imagine the world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta’s child could be safe.”
My heart.

“I don’t want to talk about dying songbirds. They bring up thoughts of my father’s death and Rue’s death and Maysilee Donner’s death and my mother inheriting her songbird.”

“And suddenly I am so afraid for him. What has he done? Something terribly dangerous. An act of rebellion in itself. And he’s done it for me.”

Sobbing.

“Our hands find each other without further discussion. Of course we will go into this as one.”

“The were graphite miners,” I say. But then I hesitate, because that’s information I got from the Capitol.

“I really can’t think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite.”

“My mother has to save the strongest for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present.”

“Although she had seen her mother’s eyes first, he would be her imprint, and she would belong to him for life.”
I don’t know anything about this history, but I have a feeling this isn’t gonna go the way he wants.

“I am bound, threads like iron through my mind and my skin and it’s there. In the walls.” -pg 8

“Beyond that field the smokestack of a crematorium was clearly visible, and from time to time the tall, cylindrical brick chimney would belch out a billow of thick black smoke. Depending on which way the wind was blowing, it wasn’t inconceivable that some of that mortal smoke might waft in through the apartment’s open window from time to time.”