But life is beautiful, Sariel!’ Gabriel said, trying to convince him. ‘Watch the sunrise sometime lying in the scented flowers of the field, or the shooting stars at the end of summer! Read a couple of really exciting books or lose yourself in the unselfconscious smiles of children. Have a swim in a clear mountain lake or take a run among trees clothed in autumn colours. If you can see the good in Earth, your own existence will become the richer for it!’‘That all sounds very well and good, but you haven’t convinced me,’ the deep-voiced angel murmured and Ariel laughed. ‘My friend, Gabriel was very gently trying to suggest that you should fall in love and that will better dispose you to the world!

I opened the window to let some fresh air into the room and was surprised to see that the rain was not just falling, but that it formed an actual wall of water, as if the whole sky were falling. While I was staring at the strange phenomenon, the form of an angel began to appear before me… It was Matariel, the Angel of Rain, whom I had not seen since my descent and who on this occasion appeared in a shiny, blue-grey form. She was only an arm’s length away and stared straight at me. She looked like a young woman floating on enormous wings -not a single drop of rain touched her. The smell of the cool rain swept the room as Matariel began talking to me. She never once moved her lips, but her every word was clearly audible in my head.

I want to see the front of you.”“That’s what all the girls say.”“Do you expect me to roll you over? ’Cuz I will.”“Your mate’s not going to like this.”“As if that’s going to bother you?”“True. It actually makes it worth the effort.”With a groan, he shoved his palms into the shimmering silver pool of blood beneath him, and flopped over like the side of beef he was.“Wow,” she breathed.“I know, right? Hung like a horse.”“If you’re really nice—and you live through this—I’ll promise not to tell V.”“About my size.”She laughed a little. “No, that you assumed I’d look at you in any fashion other than professionally.

You know, you really don't have to kill anyone over this. I'll get an annulment. It will be like never happened"His eyes came to her, briefly meeting her gaze before dropping to her mouth. "You'll have to make that a divorce instead""No you don't understand. An annulment will be much easier to obtain"His gaze locked with hers now. Cassie became slightly breathless with the intensity of his stare."Not after tonight, it won't." He said in his mesmerizing drawl."Why?" She barely got the word out."Because i'm in the mood to play husband""You're what?"He started toward her. She was too stunned to move, so he was there and reaching for her before she had time to think about running."We're having a wedding night," he said as he lifted her off her feet.--

He fills me with horror and I do not hate him. How can I hate him, Raoul? Think of Erik at my feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses himself, he implores my forgiveness!...He confesses his cheat. He loves me! He lays at my feet an immense and tragic love. ... He has carried me off for love!...He has imprisoned me with him, underground, for love!...But he respects me: he crawls, he moans, he weeps!...And, when I stood up, Raoul, and told him that I could only despise him if he did not, then and there, give me my liberty...he offered it...he offered to show me the mysterious road...Only...only he rose too...and I was made to remember that, though he was not an angel, nor a ghost, nor a genius, he remained the voice...for he sang. And I listened ... and stayed!...That night, we did not exchange another word. He sang me to sleep.

Así es. Entonces de todos modos, tu y tu hermano vinieron a la fiesta y tan pronto entraste por la puerta, Liam se quedo mirándote. Él literalmente no podía apartar sus ojos de ti. Tu sonreíste y le dijiste feliz cumpleaños, pero ni siquiera podía hablar contigo, así que te alejaste para ir a bailar. Se volvió hacia mi y ¿Sabes que me dijo? —pregunto, con los ojos lagrimeando. Negué con la cabeza. ¿Que diablos va decir ella? ¡Esto me esta volviendo loca! — Él dijo en un tono muy serio "Mamá ¿estoy muerto?" Y yo dije "No cariño, no estas muerto" Y el sacudió la cabeza, mirando a todos lados confundido por algo. Luego señalo hacia ti bailando y dijo: "Si no estoy muerto, ¿Porque hay un ángel en nuestra casa?" . .

Binti yako mwenye umri wa miaka kumi na nne kwa mfano, anaomba umnunulie gari kama ulivyofanya kwa kaka yake mwenye umri wa miaka kumi na nane. Mara ya kwanza unamwambia utamnunulia atakapofikisha umri wa miaka kumi na nane kama ulivyofanya kwa kaka yake. Lakini baada ya wiki moja binti yako anakuomba tena kitu kilekile, yaani gari. Utajisikiaje? Utakereka, sivyo? Jinsi utakavyokereka binti yako kukuomba kitu ambacho tayari ameshakuomba, ndivyo Mungu anavyokereka sisi kumwomba vitu ambavyo tayari tumeshamwomba. Ukiomba kitu kwa mara ya kwanza Mungu amekusikia, tayari ameshaandaa malaika wa kukuletea jibu. Unachotakiwa kufanya, baada ya kuomba, shukuru mpaka jibu lako litakapofika. Mungu huthamini zaidi maombi ya kushukuru kuliko maombi ya kuomba. Binti yako anachotakiwa kufanya baada ya kukuomba gari ni kukushukuru mpaka gari yake itakapofika, si kukuomba mpaka gari yake itakapofika.

I’m by myself,” she said finally. “No family to speak of.”“I see.” Leaning forward again, he rested his arms against the table. “That must be rather difficult.”“Sometimes.”“And lonely, I imagine. Perhaps that is why you came here tonight?”Her jaw popped under the strain of maintaining decorum. “First: I said I was alone, not lonely. There's a big difference. And second: is that really why you think I'm here?”“I do not know what to think. I know you must have reasons for being here other than what you have already hinted at. Reasons important enough to make an otherwise intelligent woman not only bring food to a stranger so late at night, but also accept his invitation to sit inside an empty motel room without a second thought.”“Why don't you just call me a hooker while you're at it?

This time, I sat next to a pixie girl called Takara, who had pinkish hair and wore a bright pink dress to match. She was the first forest-dweller I had seen wearing jewellery: she was wearing a necklace and bracelet of finely worked crystal beads. When she noticed my interest, she removed her bracelet and held it out to me. “Sophiel, I would be so pleased if you would wear this!”I was surprised by this kind and very selfless gesture; after all, I had not been admiring her jewels with any intention of asking her to part with them!“You’re very kind, Takara, but I was merely admiring your handiwork!” I said, trying politely to refuse her gift. “Mitsuko told me that you make your jewellery yourself. You’re very talented, they’re really lovely pieces, but I wouldn’t want to take them away from you. It’s you that makes these jewels really beautiful!

She is the girl from the Rainbows,with Twinie eyes and Silky hair...She is short, she is Cute, Her Smile will put you on mute...She is Quick, she is Fast, she is Witty,As Sweet as Kitty...She Speaks less, but Talks more.Dumb for many, Wisdom for few...You can never See her, but you can Feel her.Many people know her, but only few can Understand her..She behaves like Mr. Bean,But deep inside she is a Sarcasm queen..She is Powerful, she is Confident, a born Leader,Always listens to all my Blabber... XDShe is wonderful, she is Beautiful,In short a Sweet little fool..If you want to make her Happy, get her a cup of Tea,If you want to see her Smile, gift her a Book,If you want to Impress her, don't do anything, just be the Way you are !She is Complicated and yet Simple,How can one ignore her Dimple !?,She is Crazy, she is Mad,She is my Angel,Angel from the Skies, through the Rainbows, into my Life....She is my girl.....from the Rainbows.

I was now blinded by a flood of light, but when I realised how many countless numbers of angels were imprisoned in Bardo’s dismal prison, it took my breath away. “Gabriel!” I shouted to my leader with all my might, but he gave no sign of hearing me. “Gabriel!” I said, trying again, and it seemed that the handsome face reacted just a little. At that moment, a band of goblins reached the hall with a terrible ruckus. I had to flee. I grabbed the chains binding Gabriel and cried one last time . “Gabriel!” …the angel’s emerald green eyes looked up. He gazed deep into my eyes, . “Please forgive me,” I whispered. My chest felt like it would burst with pain from the guilt burning inside me. “I swear I’ll atone for my sin and get you out of here!” . Gabriel gave no reply, but just looked at me sadly. I would have been less tortured if he had screamed at me or come at me, but he simply let me sink into my guilt.

The story of the angel announcing what the church calls the immaculate conception, is not so much as mentioned in the books ascribed to Mark, and John; and is differently related in Matthew and Luke. The former says the angel, appeared to Joseph; the latter says, it was to Mary; but either Joseph or Mary was the worst evidence that could have been thought of; for it was others that should have testified for them, and not they for themselves. Were any girl that is now with child to say, and even to swear it, that she was gotten with child by a ghost, and that an angel told her so, would she be believed? Certainly she would not. Why then are we to believe the same thing of another girl whom we never saw, told by nobody knows who, nor when, nor where? How strange and inconsistent is it, that the same circumstance that would weaken the belief even of a probable story, should be given as a motive for believing this one, that has upon the face of it every token of absolute impossibility and imposture.

There are very few things that live in both this world and the world of dreams. Most are gods, angels and demons. The Stone you hold was made by Vlad Valkire the son of an angel and a demon. By the divine blood that ran in his veins, Valkire could see the light and hear the song of creation -- if only as glimmerings and whispers. "Over time, he became aware of the light and the music and as he grew so did his understanding of it. At the age of twenty two, he began his greatest labor -- the making of the Wyrd Stones. In them he captured the light and song of creation and by them some of the powers of gods, angels and demons fell into the hands of elves and men. A sorcerer who knows its secret may -- like a god, angel, or demon -- stand with one foot in this world and another within the world of dreams. "Your Stone is a gateway into the world of dreams, Luthiel. When you sing, it opens and you are, in part, taken there. Others who hold a Wyrd Stone like yours may know when someone crosses into dream. When you sang, I could hear you quite clearly.

Her eyes were of different colors, the left as brown as autumn, the right as gray as Atlantic wind. Both seemed alive with questions that would never be voiced, as if no words yet existed with which to frame them. She was nineteen years old, or thereabouts; her exact age was unknown. Her face was as fresh as an apple and as delicate as blossom, but a marked depression in the bones beneath her left eye gave her features a disturbing asymmetry. Her mouth never curved into a smile. God, it seemed, had withheld that possibility, as surely as from a blind man the power of sight. He had withheld much else. Amparo was touched—by genius, by madness, by the Devil, or by a conspiracy of all these and more. She took no sacraments and appeared incapable of prayer. She had a horror of clocks and mirrors. By her own account she spoke with Angels and could hear the thoughts of animals and trees. She was passionately kind to all living things. She was a beam of starlight trapped in flesh and awaiting only the moment when it would continue on its journey into forever.” (p.33)

I did,” Henric said, with a triumphant look.“Oh,” Meena said, opening the book to the page 74, the one from her dream. “You mean thisprince?” She pointed at the illustration of Lucifer.Henric’s grin faltered slightly. “Precisely.”“He’s not a prince,” Meena said. “As you know perfectly well, he’s a fallen angel. And what wasLucien’s mother?”“A p-princess,” Henric stammered. But there was terror in his eyes.“No,” Lucien said, shaking his head. “She was an angel.”Meena swung around to look at him. Tears glittered in her eyes as she gazed up into his, whichhad gone back to their normal deep brown.“Yes, Lucien,” she said, holding the book open in front of him. “That’s why Henric was trying tokeep this from you. Because he realized it was the one thing that might help you remember what yourmother always taught you. You, of all people, really do have a choice. You can choose to be good . . .because you are part good. No matter how hard you try to be the devil’s son, you’ve still got an angel fora mother.