| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| c3d9329 | She felt all right. Her heart was like a drum hanging from piano wire in her chest, slowly, slowly beaten. Her hands and feet were numb, not with cold but with a sultry torpor. Thoughts moved with a tranquil lethargy, her brain a leisurely machine imbedded in swaths of woolly packing. She felt all right. | lethargy torpor tranquilization tranquility | Richard Matheson |