“Lift your head to me...’ His is the kiss of a timorous lover. Feel his inhuman lips on the throat, the heat of it. The bite, when it comes, is cold. Begin to sink as the blood flows into his… — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
Being a child is such a shining gift, yet we don't know how precious it is until it's worn out and gone away. — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
“I was hamming it up so much you could virtually taste the salad too.” — storm constantine Copy Share Image
There is a point when facing the unknown stops being a longed-for adventure and becomes a terrifying reality. — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
If life is a battle, then my inner scars are medals for valor, for swiftness, for courage, for passion. Evil is the dark-haired brother… — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
“Wraeththu have been with me for the greater part of my life. My first rather ham-fisted (and half-finished) stories about them began in my… — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
I have been writing now for over a week. I find it cleansing, refreshing; it is good for me.” (p.531) — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
“Lift your head to me...’ His is the kiss of a timorous lover. Feel his inhuman lips on the throat, the heat of it.… — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
“I felt as if something hung there in the back of my mind, waiting to tarnish whatever happiness I might find. Is it safer… — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
I'm inspired by dreams and shadows, obsession and desire. By nature, I'm a dream collector and never stop working. I question people about their… — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
We had given it a name, a substance, and somehow, in doing that, we had condemned ourselves. — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
No one, not even lovers, are truly psychic, and everyone flounders around each other, misunderstanding, misinterpreting, sending out confusing signals. — Storm Constantine Copy Share Image
