You cannot fix your gaze upon it! Senses cannot record it. No words describe it."-Alia
Frank HerbertAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: October 8, 1920
- Died: February 11, 1986
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The sky is purple, the flare of a match behind a cupped hand is gold; the liquor is green, bright green, made from a thousand herbs, made from altars. Those who know enough to drink Chartreuse at Mardi Gras are lucky, because the distilled essence of the town burns in their bellies. Chartreuse glows in the dark, and if you drink enough of it, your eyes will turn bright green.
Poppy Z. Brite
Hey, man, got a problem?"Veronica left me."Ivan crossed one leg over the other and was obviously jiggling his foot. "Oh, yeah? For some other guy, huh?"No."How come?"Macintosh never altered positions, and the very absence of action made the point. "Because I was selfish, rude, arrogant, dishonest, stupid and generally nasty."Ivan considered the toe of his boot. "Is that all?"Yeah."Women," Ivan said with a shrug. "Never satisfied."Gennie read the strip twice, then looked up helplessly. Without...
Nora Roberts