Now is the dramatic moment of fate, Watson, when you hear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life, and you know not whether for good or ill.
She leaned back, closing her eyes and blowing out a thin wisp of smoke. __e was always a good-looking man. Your eyes are from him, the same blue, but you are slimmer of build and have your grandmother__ exotic face rather than his rounder, friendly one. He was a bit of a bounder, as men of his looks are apt to be.__ grinned at this, adding to my mental picture.__e married as often as_ she blinked, laughed, __ell, as often as I did, I suppose, though my reasons were infinitely better.
Jewel of the Thames
Quote Detail
She leaned back, closing her eyes and blowing out a thin wisp of smoke. __e was always a good-looking man. Your eyes are from him, the same blue, but you are slimmer of build and have your grandmother__ exotic face rather than his rounder, friendly one. He was a bit of a bounder, as men of his looks are apt to be.__ grinned at this, adding to my mental picture.__e married as often as_ she blinked, laughed, __ell, as often as I did, I suppose, though my reasons were infinitely better.
Quick Answer
What this quote page tells you
This canonical quote page keeps the full saying, the attributed author, any linked work, and the topic tags together so the quote can be cited from one stable URL.
Related Quotes
More quote cards from the same area
Why are you in my room?___ecause I can be.___ou shouldn__ be.___ave it, Rochester. You broke my nose.___oes it hurt?__e lifted a hand toward his face and dropped it. __ou could say that.___ood.__e nudged a tray on the floor with his boot. It had oatmeal, toast, and orange juice on it. __ungry?__onor__ stomach growled. __o.__yder__ lips turned up in a fleeting sadistic smile. He kicked the tray across the room. It hit the wall and overturned. __ood.
To know of the existence of evil, true evil that corrupted the world, had forever altered her heart and mind. If she had chosen a different path, she wouldn't have slept another night. Her head would have been restless as she thought only of the horrors that might be creeping outside her door, waiting to rend her flesh. She would not live a life as the hunted; she would be the hunter.
There are countless reasons for reading, but when you__e young and uncertain of your identity, of who you may be, one of the most compelling is the quest to discover yourself reflected in the pages of a book.
What would angel lips taste like? Sunshine? Marshmallows? Or something altogether different? Maybe buttered-popcorn jelly beans.
I once knew a girl who was like a dying rainbow. Her colors were incomparable, her countenance a whirlwind of brilliance. As much as she shone, however, she faded into nothingness, at times so quickly that I was unsure whether she had existed at all.