1,081 Quotes by Christine Feehan

The real knife to a man’s heart was his woman’s tears.

Her soft voice nearly was the end of his strength. Just when he was certain there was no way he could love her more, she did something like that. She made him feel as if he was everything to her. He’d never been everything to anyone.

He wasn’t like some of his fellow GhostWalkers, who seemed to walk into a room and have half the female population enthralled – and that had nothing to do with their enhancements and everything to do with their good looks, charisma, or both, none of which he had.

He had thought to hold a part of himself back until she made up her mind. Getting his heart broken wasn’t on his list of things he wanted to experience. But the effect of her welcoming smile told him it was too late. He’d already fallen.

So now I’m supposed to believe you haven’t been with another woman for five years. Get. Out.

She looked at him as if she could see inside him, past the glacier, penetrate deep and see the man he could have been.

But I’m not any better at relationships than you are. We’ll find our way together, even if we’re fumbling around in the dark for a while.

Come on, ghost man. You want this. You want to live. I know you do. Breathe for me. Take a breath.

Just like the movements in a symphony, the rain sent vibrations through his body, painting the world in a physical map of mountains, valleys and high peaks dropping into deep ravines. The physical structures were all created by sound itself, and the colors were intense and vivid – substance created by sound, by feeling.