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Image of the quote is loading... SaveSave But this is a thing that I know--to live with fear is not to live at all. A man will die every moment he is afraid. - Quote by Deanna Raybourn

But this is a thing that I know–to live with fear is not to live at all. A man will die every moment he is afraid.

Deanna Raybourn
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She didn't look at me and I didn't look at her. Some questions are so direct the only way to ask them is sideways.
Deanna Raybourn
The man whirled, his hands still gripping the animal's skin, his face perfectly illuminated by the fire. He was half in shadow, and the shadow revealed him slowly. His left eye was covered by a black leather patch, and thin white scar raked his brow and the cheekbone below. The carried on, down the length of his neck, into the thick black beard, twisting under his collarbone and around his torso. They marred only the skin, I noted, for the muscles beneath were whole and strong, and the entire impression was one of great vitality and energy, strength unbridled. He looked nothing so much as a fallen god working at a trade."Hephaestus at the forge," I murmured, recalling my mythology....
Deanna Raybourn
You have to love someone completely to be willing to destroy them.
Deanna Raybourn
I would kiss the ground where your shadow fell just to be near you.
Deanna Raybourn
Second rule of the bush. Never get too close to anything that has offspring.What's the first rule?Food runs. If you don't want to be food, don't run.
Deanna Raybourn
Fate is by far the greatest mystery of all.
Deanna Raybourn
What virtue is there in a man who demonstrates goodness because he has been bred to it? It is his habit from youth. But a man who has known unkindness and want, for him to be kind and charitable to those who have been the cause of his misfortunes, that is a virtuous man.
Deanna Raybourn
He had strong, steady hands, and I could tell from looking at them there was little he couldn't do. Mossy always said you could tell everything you needed to know about a man from his hands. Some hands, she told me, were leaving hands. They were the wandering sort that slipped into places they shouldn't, and they would wander right off again because those hands just couldn't stay still. Some hands were worthless hands, fit only to hold a drink or flick ash from a cigar, and some were punishing hands that hit hard and didn't leave a mark and those were the ones you never stayed to see twice.But the best hands were knowing hands, Mossy told me with a slow smile. Knowing hands were capable; they could soothe a horse or woman. They could take things apart -- including your heart -- and put them back together better than before. Knowing hands were rare, but if you found them, they were worth holding, at least for a little while.
Deanna Raybourn
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