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f2e076a
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Don't wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.
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motto
hunted
hunt
hide
waiting
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Samuel Beckett |
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a54fbd0
|
"Annabelle's eyes stung as she stared at him, while need and inexhaustible tenderness gathered like an ache in her body. "I realized something," she said huskily, "when I was standing outside the foundry, watching it burn and knowing you were inside." She swallowed hard against the thickness in her throat. "I would rather have died in your arms, Simon, than face a lifetime without you. All those endless years... all those winters, summers... a hundred seasons of wanting you and never having you. Growing old, while you stayed eternally young in my memories." She bit her lip and shook her head, while her eyes flooded. "I was wrong when I told you that I didn't know where I belonged. I do. With you, Simon. Nothing matters except being with you. You're stuck with me forever, and I'll never listen when you tell me to go." She managed a tremulous smile. "So you may as well stop complaining and resign yourself to it."
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wallflower
simon
hunt
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Lisa Kleypas |
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f088e65
|
I'm gonna hunt my life down and grab it.
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life
hunt
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Markus Zusak |
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57d3e28
|
There's something stalking us. Off to the side of the road, moving through the forest.' Kettricken smiled.
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wolf
kettricken
fitz
hunt
nighteyes
fool
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Robin Hobb |
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f550ab6
|
And so the Wolf of the West rose from the stone! And so he will rise again if ever the folk of the Six Duchies call to him in need.
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song
hap
wolf-of-the-west
hunt
nighteyes
fool
|
Robin Hobb |
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20ea1a1
|
It was an old hunter in camp and the hunter shared tobacco with him and told him of the buffalo and the stands he'd made against them, laid up in a sag on some rise with the dead animals scattered over the grounds and the herd beginning to mill and the riflebarrel so hot the wiping patches sizzled in the bore and the animals by the thousands and the tens of thousands and the hides pegged out over actual square miles of ground the teams of skinners spelling one another around the clock and the shooting and shooting weeks and months till the bore shot slick and the stock shot loose at the tang and their shoulders were yellow and blue to the elbow and the tandem wagons groaned away over the prairie twenty and twenty-two ox teams and the flint hides by the hundred ton and the meat rotting on the ground and the air whining with flies and the buzzards and ravens and the night a horror of snarling and feeding with the wolves half-crazed and wallowing in the carrion. I seen Studebaker wagons with six and eight ox teams headed out for the grounds not hauling a thing but lead. Just pure galena. Tons of it. On this ground alone between the Arkansas River and the Concho there were eight million carcasses for that's how many hides reached the railhead. Two years ago we pulled out from Griffin for a last hunt. We ransacked the country. Six weeks. Finally found a herd of eight animals and we killed them and come in. They're gone. Ever one of them that God ever made is gone as if they'd never been at all. The ragged sparks blew down the wind. The prairie about them lay silent. Beyond the fire it was cold and the night was clear and the stars were falling. The old hunter pulled his blanket about him. I wonder if there's other worlds like this, he said. Or if this is the only one.
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humanity
death
holocaust
civilization
hunt
human-nature
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Cormac McCarthy |
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9ebcf5b
|
He gave a final shake of his coat. I go to the hunt!
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love
fitz
hunt
nighteyes
the-hunt
together
fool
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Robin Hobb |