Ella > Recent Status Updates

‘… he looked to Elo, whose shades were much like Arren’s, torn in red and gold. Inara recognised those colours, the shades of his deepest terror, the flashes of his nightmares, and the horrors of war.’ p365

‘These waves of emotion, tension, were longing for release. To celebrate, to destroy. Enough for someone’s will to slip in and take hold. Sunbringer wanted it to be his will, his glory. He wanted to claim their chaos and tame it. Skedi understood. It was what a gif would want.’ p304

‘It had been a long time since Elo had prepared for war. The fear tasted sour and familiar. The loneliness felt strange.’ p162

‘… and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.’ p183

‘ I have a single wish, and my whole being and faculties are yearning to attain it. They have yearned towards it so long, and so unwaveringly, that I’m convinced it will be reached - and soon - because it has devoured my existence: I am swallowed up in the anticipation of its fulfilment.’ p176

‘…I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped in the flags! In every cloud, in every tree - filling the air at night, and caught glimpses in every object by day - I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women - my own features - mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!’ p175

‘His honest, warm, and intelligent nature shook off rapidly the clouds of ignorance and degradation in which it had been bred; and Catherine’s sincere commendations acted as a spur to his industry.’ p174

‘He had a fixed idea … that, his nephew resembled him in person, he would resemble him in mind; for Linton’s letters bore few or no indications of his defective character. And I, through pardonable weakness, refrained from correcting the error; asking myself what good there would be in disturbing bid last moments with information he had neither power nor opportunity to turn to account.’ p143

‘The ragged tops of the Bennites bit into the belly of the sky, and it bled: snow, hail and mist would soon swallow them whole’ p115

‘… It was strange. Gods did not alter so swiftly not like humans.’ p9

‘In that’s manner Heraton, who would now be the first gentleman in the neighbourhood, who reduced to a state of complete dependence on his father’s inveterate enemy; and lives in his own house as a servant, deprived of the advantage of wages: quite unable to right himself, because of his friendlessness, and his ignorance that he has been wronged.’ p102

‘The flash of her eyes had been succeeded by a dreamy and melancholy softness; they no longer gave the impression of looking at the objects around her: they appeared always to gaze beyond, and far beyond - you would have said out of this world’ p85

‘… this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!.’ p63

‘He would have recoiled still more had he been aware that her attachment rose unsolicited, and was bestowed where it awakened no reciprocation of sentiment; for the minute he discovered its existence he laid the blame on Heathcliff's deliberate designing.’ p55

‘A half-civilised ferocity lurked yet in the depressed brows and eyes full of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was even dignified: quite divested of roughness, though stern for grace.’ p52

‘He many a time spoke sternly to me about my pertness; and averred that the stab of a knife could not inflict a worse pang than he suffered at seeing his lady vexed. Not to grieve a kind master, I learned to be less touchy; and, for the space of half a year, the gunpowder lay as harmless as sand, because no fire came near to explode it.’ p50

‘She is a woman, alone in the darkness, slowly exploding.’ p255

‘She wants to inch closer to him. To spin some thread of connection between her life and his. But she does not know how.
The lonely church bell strikes three in the morning. Time is rolling onwards. Like an eye slowly closing, the night shortens by degrees.’ p68

‘…Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes. Don’t get the expression of a vicious cur that appears to know the kicks it gets are it’s desert, and yet hates all the world, as well as the kicker, for what it suffers.’ p30