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“Life's all about balance. To move on in life you have to strike a balance between your past, present, and your future; you may either be jerked off or left behind.”
Richmond Akhigbe“It felt like being shot with an arrow, and Will jerked back. His wineglass crashed to the floor and shattered. He lurched to his feet, leaning both hands on the table. He was vaguely aware of stares, and the landlords anxious voice in his ear, but the pain was too great to think through, almost too great to breathe through. The tightness in his chest, the one he had thought of as one end of a cord tying him to Jem, had pulled so taut that it was strangling his heart. He stumbled away from his table, pushing through a knot of customers near the bar, and passed to the front door of the inn. All he could think of was air, getting air into his lungs to breathe. He pushed the doors open and half-tumbled out into the night. For a moment the pain in his chest eased, and he fell back against the wall of the inn. Rain was sheeting down, soaking his hair and clothes. He gasped, his heart stuttering with a misture of terror and desperation. Was this just the distance from Jem affecting him? He had never felt anything like this, even when Jem was at his worst, even when he'd been injured and Will had ached with sympathetic pain.The cord snapped.For a moment everything went white, the courtyard bleeching through as if with acid. Will jackknifed to his knees, vomiting up his supper into the mud. When the spasms had passed , he staggard to his feet and blindly away from the inn, as if trying to outpace his own pain. He fetched up against the wall of the stables, beside the horse trough. He dropped to his knees to plunge his hands into the icy water-and saw his own reflection. There was his face, as white as death, and his shirt, and a spreading stain of red across the front. With wet hands he siezed at his lapels and jerked the shirt open. In the dim light that spilled from the inn, he could see that his parabati rune, just over his heart, was bleeding. His hands were covered in blood, blood mixed with rain, the same ran that was washing the blood away from his chest, showing the rune as it began to fade from black to silver, changing all that had been sense in Will's life into nonsense.Jem was dead.”
Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess“Nonfiction. I didn’t choose it as much as it chose me. It squatted and birthed me one raw winter day then jerked me up and set me to scribing.”
Chila Woychik, On Being a Rat and Other Observations“Anyone who discounts you is a dumbass," I muttered as the golf cart jerked forward."And are you a dumbass?" the Pigeon inquired as she peeked under the tarp."Absolutely not...I'm a smartass.”
Robyn Peterman, Some Were In Time“Only downside to your place is the disturbing low amount of extraneous toiletries. No conditioner? Lip gloss? Sunscreen?" I jerked my thumb toward the front door. "I need to brush my teeth. And I need a sh”
Becca Fitzpatrick, Silence“Jay lurched in one direction, jerked back, lurched in another, tripped for no reason. He finally made it through a gauntlet of invisible obstacles and crouched behind a water fountain shaped like a hippopotamous throwing up.”
Adam Rex, Fat Vampire: A Never Coming of Age Story“Cat, hmmm? From where I sit you look more like a Kitten."My head jerked around and I shot him an annoyed look. Oh, I was going to enjoy this, all right. "It's Cat," I repeated firmly. "Cat Raven.""Whatever you say, Kitten Tweedy.”
Jeaniene Frost, Halfway to the Grave“Do you two know each other?" Jason asked. She jerked her hand away, thankful Trent let go. "No." "Yes," Trent said at the same time. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jason take a few steps back. "Okay then. I'm going to catch up with Sharpe. When you two figure out whether you know each other or not, find me.”
Savannah Stuart, Dangerous Deception“He pulled away the glove, and at the first glimpse of her fragile, white hand, all thoughts of negotiation fled. "I don't see how matters could become worse," he muttered. "I am already besotted with a needle-tongued, conceited, provoking ape leader of a lady."Her head jerked up. "Besotted? You're nothing like it. Vengeful is more like it. Spiteful.”
Loretta Chase, Lord of Scoundrels“Creed must have responded in kind, because with a gasp, she broke off the kiss. Time crawled to a standstill, then shifted to a sprint. Nieve shoved the gun lodged between them into his ribs. His hand still covered hers, and with the well-trained instincts of an assassin, he jerked the gun to the side so that the bullet she fired embedded into the ground, kicking up dirt, and not in his heart.”
Paula Altenburg, The Demon Creed