Look who's calling the cauldron black." "Kettle. Itโs a kettle. Get your metaphors right." "That wasnโt a metaphor. It was a, you know..." He stared off into space, blinking. "One of those things thatโs symbolic of another thing. But isnโt the same thing. Just like it." "You mean a metaphor?" "No! Itโs like a story...like...a proverb! Thatโs it." "Iโm pretty sure that wasnโt a proverb. Maybe it was an analogy." "I donโt think so.
Richelle MeadOf course I can climb it. I'm practically a progidy in PE," I pointed out. "The question is, can you, Mr Smoker?
Richelle MeadNo," Dimitri interrupted gently. He moved his face toward mine, our foreheads nearly touching. "It won't happen to you. You're too strong. You'll fight it, just like you did this time." "I only did because you were here." He wrapped his arms around me, and I buried my face in his chest. "I can't do it by myself," I whispered. "You can," he said. There was a tremulous note in his voice. "You're strongโyou're so, so strong. It's why I love you.
Richelle Mead