Liz Meldon > Liz's Quotes

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  • #1
    Anna Bayes
    “Revenge is not sweet; it is gloomy and a waste of time.”
    Anna Bayes, Through His Lens

  • #2
    Stephen Greenblatt
    “I think the writing of literature should give pleasure. What else should it be about? It is not nuclear physics. It actually has to give pleasure or it is worth nothing.”
    Stephen Greenblatt

  • #3
    James Dickey
    “A poet is someone who stands outside in the rain hoping to be struck by lightning.”
    James Dickey

  • #4
    John Steinbeck
    “I wonder how many people I've looked at all my life and never seen.”
    John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent

  • #5
    Liz Meldon
    “And yet this god, this old god from the Old World, somehow made her feel small. It was only for a moment, but Aphrodite blinked under the weight of his stare—his scrutiny.”
    Liz Meldon, The Maenad of Manhattan

  • #6
    Liz Meldon
    “This century faded—as did the last several—and she was Aphrodite again, goddess of lust and pleasure and sex, and she was home.”
    Liz Meldon, The Maenad of Manhattan

  • #7
    Liz Meldon
    “Swatting his arm was like swatting a brick wall; Elle had never noticed the toned biceps hiding under his pressed suits and crisp button-ups. Or maybe she had, but she’d just added it to the list of reasons Grant was a sleazy jerk: gym-obsessed, girl-obsessed, and money-obsessed.”
    Liz Meldon

  • #8
    William Blake
    “If a thing loves, it is infinite.”
    William Blake

  • #9
    William Shakespeare
    “You have witchcraft in your lips, there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council; and they should
    sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.”
    William Shakespeare, Henry V

  • #10
    Liz Meldon
    “Her little squeal of surprise emboldened him, his hand threading through her hair. It yearned to tighten, to wrench her head back so that he might graze his teeth along her neck.

    Learn what sort of sounds she’d make then.”
    Liz Meldon, Predator

  • #11
    Liz Meldon
    “It was as though her kiss had awoken the long dormant demon inside, kept quiet, pliant, and restrained around all these humans.

    “Moira, Moira, Moira,” he murmured, looking back to the bathroom door. “What have you done to me?”
    Liz Meldon, Predator

  • #12
    Liz Meldon
    “Glaring at her reflection, she thought herself reptilian, artificial, corpse-like—inhuman.

    And now someone else had said it, aloud, for all the world to hear.”
    Liz Meldon, Predator

  • #13
    Liz Meldon
    “Delicate. Ha. There was nothing delicate about her.”
    Liz Meldon, Predator

  • #14
    Liz Meldon
    “It was pathetic how little prodding he needed to unleash the beast.

    Severus had been trying. So. Damn. Hard. To ignore his baser instincts. To dissuade her, to throw her off. Moira had become too comfortable in his company, and she didn’t know the danger she put herself in.

    But to insult his gifts. To doubt his power, the only natural talent Severus possessed… Well, she had crossed the line.

    And now she would taste the consequences.”
    Liz Meldon, Prey

  • #15
    Liz Meldon
    “I never knew I could scar until I met you. So, thank you for teaching me something new. It’s been years since one of you upright mammals surprised me.”
    Liz Meldon, Prey

  • #16
    Liz Meldon
    “He took the stairs two at a time, hoping that Verrier was in a pleasant, helpful mood. One could never be certain with a prince of Hell—they smiled when they liked you, but they supposedly smiled just before they slit your throat, too.

    And Severus had no idea how to spot the difference.”
    Liz Meldon, Prey

  • #17
    Liz Meldon
    “Her shudder. A sigh like silk, a quiver that shot straight to his cock. He wanted to make her do it over and over again until she couldn’t stand it.”
    Liz Meldon, Prey

  • #18
    Percy Bysshe Shelley
    “The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?”
    Percy Bysshe Shelley



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