Top 100 Stephen Lloyd Jones Quotes
#1. She stopped, and he knew she had caught herself, dismayed a what she had been about to reveal. [Nicole Dubois]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#2. Twice damned, in truth, and yet by quirk of timing and fate accepted into that society denied to so many others.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#3. A lot of mistakes, but all of them in the past. Some made with worthy intentions, some without. When you live a long time you get to collect a lot of mistakes.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#4. He wondered how much time he had left before they started saying "you".
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#5. Create a mould, and pour yourself in it. See what you want to be, and be. Don't fear the pain. Pain is good. Pain is price.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#6. perhaps that's what we thought we were. Benevolent gods.
Now look at us.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#8. Their touch triggered an electric spasm of agony. He felt the gushing warmth of blood on his fingers. [Charles Meredith]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#9. when she realised he was enjoying the cut-glass shrill of silence that followed, she felt a hatred for him so extreme that had it found physical release, he would have dropped to the floor with every bone in his body shattered.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#10. () Teeth clenched, she heard herself snarl out words in a voice feral in its savagery (...)
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#11. Sometimes when you live out here alone, you forget how to treat with people. [Sebastien]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#12. They say there's as many as four hundred billion stars in our galaxy" he murmured. "And our galaxy's just one in perhaps five hundred billion others. That's about seventy each of you, me and every other human who walks the earth".
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#13. He did not think he was capable of falling in love who was insane, or paranoid, or confused. So where did that leave him?
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#14. What protection could she have hoped to offer either of them? She couldn't even protect herself anymore.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#17. Her beauty was matchless, face so elegantly crafted that she appeared ethereal; unreal. But while nature had clearly bestowed the gift of physical perfection, it had not breathed the warmth of humanity into its creation.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#19. Yet she felt no horror at what she had witnessed, no nausea. their lives - and their deaths - had not mattered.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#20. Five years ago I was in love with you so utterly I thought I might go mad from it.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#21. We've been to secretive, perhaps. For long periods in our shared history, that was a necessity born from conflict. But it is not, I am prepared to accept, a style of living compatible with the modern age. It is difficult to maintain trust that way. Even among friends.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#22. It's not as simple as that. There's no change I could make that would stop them recognizing who I am eventually. It's difficult to explain, but they'd know.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#23. He couldn't even remember her name any more. when, he caught himself wondering, had he started to forget?
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#24. She did not know how the figure was, but she knew it was damaged too badly to live.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#25. The rush of emotion unbalanced him, his initial outrage eclipsed by an all-consuming grief.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#26. Waves of insanity and corruption seemed to flow from him. She felt buffeted by their swells.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#27. even now, the building raised a conflicting set of emotions in her: memories of pain and loss, but also of healing and discovery.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#29. (...) Stage fright, if you like. Easier to hide behind a persona than to bare one's soul. I'm really not the monster you think I am. I just wanted to talk to you unencumbered by all this complications, all this ... history. [Jakab]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#30. Perhaps it was a tacit acknowledgement of her tendency to find danger, to gravitate towards self-destruction, but she'd been terrified of heights all her life.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#31. I'm impressed by your protectiveness over them, but I'm only asking for an introduction. Are they so fragile they need an old man as chaperon? Do they have no tongues?
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#32. I've made my peace and I'm ready to face whatever comes next. You can send me on in the knowledge that we're closing in on you and that this may well be the last murderous act you commit. [Hannah Wilde]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#33. You want to run. I understand that. I do believe you almost found the courage just then, until cowardice unmanned you.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#34. (...) He loved his new ability to wonder freely, do what he wanted, go where he chose (...) So high on adrenaline was he that he did not notice the effect the alcohol was having upon him until he was quite drunk. By that time, an opium pipe seemed a good idea, so he tried that too.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#35. Nicole: It's daunting, isn't it?
Charles: What?
Nicole: Trust.
He nodded slowly.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#36. He had been running ever since. Initially, because he was ashamed by the memories of what he had done; later, out of necessity.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#38. Don't mourn me", he said. Because it was a joke, a sick joke and because - at the end - he needed a little dark humour to sustain him.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#39. Stop thinking. Son't hesitate. Act. The mantra has served her tolerably so far. Looking into the future would improvise her if she allowed it.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#40. Knowledge had always been the most important weapon in all of this. [Hannah Wilde]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#41. Ins't that the point? It's neither your right, nor your privilege, to sit in judgement of anyone. Certainly not a people about whom you know so little.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#42. I'm sorry if you think I've played Judas. But I never agreed to play this game for these stakes,
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#43. A few minutes later, he heard, floating down the hallway outside, the steady creak of bedsprings, a metronomic nightmare in the darkness.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#44. All friendships experiences challenges, periods of difficulty. But true friendships also endure. True friendships heal. ask yourself if this is a true friendship and I hope you'll agree that is what we have.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#45. Whatever had arrived to save her had not spoken, had not announced itself with anything except the silent killing it brought.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#46. His hearts beat crazily in his chest, so laboured he thought it might burst.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#47. Those were the black ears; the lost years. He had allowed himself to become the victim of events, rather than their master. [Jakab]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#48. What year was it now? He couldn't even say. But finally, the task to which he'd dedicated himself was done.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#49. Sensed his darkness; his rage; his white-knuckle self discipline. She knew that the face he wore in her presence was not his own; other than his name, it was all she knew of him, despite the length of their acquaintance.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#50. On the other hand, who knows what I know or whether what I know is even true? [Patrick Beckett]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#52. An apology, even as sincere as the one she had just received, could repair not one hour of the suffering she had endured over the last one hundred years, but ... her thoughts trailed away from her and her mouth fell open.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#53. (...) Try not to speak ill of people in the future. You never know when they might be listening (...)
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#54. From the confusion in his expression, she sensed it was a hopeless question. He did not know. Years of hate and obsession had twisted and poisoned him, had wrung from him every surviving drop of humanity.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#55. The burden of that responsibility wicked the blood from hes stomach ans sent it crashing through her arteries,
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#56. In all his years he had not seen one as ancient as this, so obviously belonging to a world far older than his own.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#57. She examined with curious detachment - so rare for her to feel anything these days - and discovered that what she felt was unease.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#58. There have been so many untruths, I don' blame you for being confused.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#59. Her words might have been meant for another, but they had the quality of sunlight nonetheless.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#60. Beads of blood defied gravity, hanging in the air like drops of dew caught in a web.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#61. The last begonias wilting in the chalet's hanging baskets laced the air with a lemon and cinnamon fragrance.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#62. Decades of sorrow and loss, he had suffered. And all of them caused by this woman crouching in front of him with his blood on her lips.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#66. He knew she had been telling the truth when she told him she seldom asked for help. It was clear in her every interaction with him - in her speech , even in the way she held herself- that she was used to standing alone.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#67. Even now, over a half-century later, the engraved words stirred emotions in him he would rather not confront.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#68. They spoke of age and decay. Of atrophy and ruin. Of the inevitability of loss and the futility of hope.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#69. She nodded, knowing that he toyed with her, lightening her anguish, but she had no power in this exchange.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#70. He grinned, the skin of his mouth streching far wider that it should have done, exposing teeth as far back as his molar.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#71. - I want to atone -
He couldn't of course. Nothing he did now could atone fully for what he had done. But he could do one thing. Just one thing.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#72. There's Moses (...) Better company that some humans I've known [Sebastien]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#73. Live your life like this. Constantly searching faces in the crowd, wondering which of them you can trust , which of them you can't.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#74. He had imagined he wanted a hundred things; a thousand. But really, even though he had not spoken his answer aloud, he found he only wanted one.
- I want this to end -
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#75. It broke over him, a frothing, churning sea a images and sound, so vivid he had to close his eyes against it and hold his breath. Faces long dead; words spoken and heard; professions of love and regret and hate; episodes of intimacy as painful to recall as those characterised by violence.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#76. You're starting to have doubts, aren't you? twenty years of having this tale drip-fed to you is beginning to have its effects. You've polluted your mind with it and now you can't sort myth from reality.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#77. She noticed a bitter aroma of a extinguished cigar, the citrus scent of cologne. And underneath those, an electric odour of excitement, of barely controlled fury.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#78. She could not hope to overcome him, but if she could find a blade quickly enough, if she could open her wrists.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#79. I am to be judged today. But tomorrow, in the way treat an innocent, you will all be judged.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#81. Do I even want this burden any more? Probably not, I'm too old, too tired. And what, after all. have I achieved in all this time?
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#82. Cotswold stone framed tiny sash windows gleaming with pale green paint. Wisteria vines twisted about the stone, bunches of purple flowers hanging thick and heavy with pollen. Above it all a tiled roof sagged with sage.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#84. Her expression was distant and he was ashamed to find himself hunting for sings of pain in her features, some evidence of heartache.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#87. Hunched forward, feeling his ears burning, his hands shaking. Tried to concentrate. Found his eyes flickering over sentences and phrases, retaining nothing. [Charles Meredith]
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#88. Yes, yes. I've heard the argument. If we all lived as long as you, we'd be in crisis. Population explosion. The stability of our society would fracture. Chaos. Anarchy. And perhaps there's a shred of truth in that.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#89. Yet surely no afterlife could be cruel enough to accept not just her soul but all her agony.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#90. He sucked his pipe. Blew out the smoke. The clock ticked, lengthening the seconds between them.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#92. He might not have control of this situation, but the illusion of control was more pressing than its reality.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#93. She smelled the smoke before she saw it - acrid in her nose, bitter in her throat.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#94. It's like a pint right here, an emptiness. There's nothing I can do to fill it. If you're telling me I can't have you, if you're really telling me that, I just don't know what I'll do.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#96. And then a monstrous idea jumped into her head, a thought so ruthless and dark she almost fled from the contemplation of it.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#99. I share that pain. Those events have sparked anger, resentment, further division. I empathise with your anger. I understand your resentment. More than anything, I seek to heal that division.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
#100. But I can't clean your blood and yours, I'm afraid, is tainted. We'll educate you, feed and clothe you, send you out into the world. But I can't do anything to purify your blood.
Stephen Lloyd Jones
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