Payne Quotes

“Our lips were for each other and our eyes were full of dreams. We knew nothing of travel and we knew nothing of loss. Ours was a world of eternal spring, until the summer came.”
― Roman Payne, Hope and Despair

“I would do anything for you. Anything."

With that, he pushed his way out...and as the door eased shut, she realized that I love you could indeed be said without actually uttering the phrase.

Actions did mean more than words.”
― J.R. Ward, Lover Unleashed

“Did I live the spring I’d sought?
It’s true in joy, I walked along,
took part in dance,
and sang the song.
and never tried to bind an hour
to my borrowed garden bower;
nor did I once entreat
a day to slumber at my feet.

Yet days aren’t lulled by lyric song,
like morning birds they pass along,
o’er crests of trees, to none belong;
o’er crests of trees of drying dew,
their larking flight, my hands, eschew
Thus I’ll say it once and true…

From all that I saw,
and everywhere I wandered,
I learned that time cannot be spent,
It only can be squandered.”
― Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

“Somewhere I’d heard, or invented perhaps, that the only pleasures found during a waning moon are misfortunes in disguise. Superstition aside, I avoid pleasure during the waning or absent moon out of respect for the bounty this world offers me. I profit from great harvests in life and believe in the importance of seasons.”
― Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

“I met Anne in the autumn... Autumn, that wild season when rural men rack orchard trees with sticks and weep with the desire to kiss faraway Demeter’s supple breasts—to set lips to her travel-swollen eyes. They seek goddesses, but I desired only Anne. ”
― Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

“Be there a picnic for the devil,
an orgy for the satyr,
and a wedding for the bride.”
― Roman Payne, The Basement Trains: A 21st Century Poem

“Rich will be my life if I
can keep my memories full
and brimming, and record
them on clear-eyed
mornings while I set
joyously to work setting
pen to holy craft.”
― Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

“Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent,
more perfect than all that a man can invent.”
― Roman Payne, The Love of Europa: Limited Time Edition

“After joyfully working each morning, I would leave off around midday to challenge myself to a footrace. Speeding along the sunny paths of the Jardin du Luxembourg, ideas would breed like aphids in my head—for creative invention is easy and sublime when air cycles quickly through the lungs and the body is busy at noble tasks.”
― Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

“Ô, the wine of a woman
from heaven is sent,
more perfect than all
that a man can invent.

When she came to my bed and begged me with sighs
not to tempt her towards passion nor actions unwise,
I told her I’d spare her and kissed her closed eyes,
then unbraided her body of its clothing disguise.

While our bodies were nude bathed in candlelight fine
I devoured her mouth, tender lips divine;
and I drank through her thighs her feminine wine.

Ô, the wine of a woman
from heaven is sent,
more perfect than all
that a man can invent.”
― Roman Payne

“I just wish moments weren’t so fleeting!' Isaac called to the man on the roof, 'They pass so quickly!'
'Fleeting?!' responded the tilling man, 'Moments? They pass quickly?! . . . Why, once a man is finished growing, he still has twenty years of youth. After that, he has twenty years of middle age. Then, unless misfortune strikes, nature gives him twenty thoughtful years of old age. Why do you call that quickly?' And with that, the tilling man wiped his sweaty brow and continued tilling; and the dejected Isaac continued wandering.
'Stupid fool!' Isaac muttered quietly to himself as soon as he was far enough away not to be heard.”
― Roman Payne, Hope and Despair

“Do we take less pride in the possession of our home because its walls were built by some unknown carpenter, its tapestries woven by some unknown weaver on a far Oriental shore, in some antique time? No. We show our home to our friends with the pride as if it were our home, which it is. Why then should we take less pride when reading a book written by some long-dead author? Is it not our book just as much, or even more so, than theirs? So the landowner says, ‘Look at my beautiful home! Isn’t it fine?’ And not, ‘Look at the home so-and-so has built.’ Thus we shouldn’t cry, ‘Look what so-and-so has written. What a genius so-and-so is!’ But rather, ‘Look at what I have read! Am I not a genius? Have I not invented these pages? The walls of this universe, did I not build? The souls of these characters, did I not weave?”
― Roman Payne

“The tragedy of Dionysus: Wear a black robe at night, and white you’ll wear by morning; but wear a purple robe to the midnight feast, and when you wake you’ll dress in black to mourn your soul deceased.”
― Roman Payne, Crepuscule

“Ô, Muse of the Heart’s Passion,
let me relive my Love’s memory,
to remember her body, so brave and so free,
and the sound of my Dreameress singing to me,
and the scent of my Dreameress sleeping by me,
Ô, sing, sweet Muse, my soliloquy!”
― Roman Payne

“The birthing wolf,
Her heart fed with tenderness,
Gave forth from ripe brown nipples,
Food to feed the universe.”
― Roman Payne

“Alexander the Great slept with
'The Iliad' beneath his pillow.
Though I’ve never led an army,
I am a wanderer. I cradle
'The Odyssey' nights while the
moon is waning, as if it were
the sweet body of a woman.”
― Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

“...You see I believe in that stuff to: yoga and mystical powers. I once knew a man who could kill himself on command. Can you believe that? . . . Why do you laugh? . . . Believe it! By will of his own mind, he could make his heart stop beating for good' My neighbor poised and looked seriously at me, searching in my eyes. '...You laugh!' he repeated once more… 'You laugh, but he was a master at it! He could commit suicide at his own will!'
Indeed, hearty laughter streamed through my nose. 'Could he do it perpetually?' I asked.
'Perpetually...?' My neighbor rubbed his waxy chin.
'I mean, is he still able to do it?'
'I’m not sure I understand.'
'Well? Then is he dead…?!'
My neighbor's puzzled face slowly began to transform into a look of realization. 'But sir,' he said, 'Of course he’s dead! I mean to say... this man could kill himself on command, you see. And you don’t come back from the dead!'
The two of us found ourselves crossing to the door so I could let my visitor out. I slapped him with friendliness on the shoulder.
'No, you don’t come back from the dead,' I agreed.”
― Roman Payne

“The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onward towards death.”
― Roman Payne, The Wanderess

“If you love my work, you are a good critic. If you do not love my work, you are a 'not good' critic.”
― Roman Payne

“We made love outdoors
Without a roof, I like most,
Without stove, to make love, assuming the weather be fair and balmy, and the earth beneath be clean. Our souls intertwined and gushing of dew.”
― Roman Payne

“English:

Ô, take this eager dance you fool,
don’t brandish your stick at me.
I have several reasons to travel on,
on to the endless sea:
I have lost my love. I’ve drunk my purse.
My girl has gone, and left me rags to sleep upon.
These old man’s gloves conceal the hands with which I’ve killed but one!

Francais:

Idiot, prends cette danse ardente, au lieu de tendre ton bâton.
J'en ai des raisons de voyager encore sur la mer infinie:
J'ai perdu l'amour et j'ai bu ma bourse.
Ma belle m'a quitté, j'ai ses haillons pour m'abriter.
Mes gants de vieillard cachent les mains d'un fameux assassin!”
― Roman Payne, The Basement Trains: A 21st Century Poem

“We rode the basement trains all night, speeding through the subterrains. I held her chin in the cup of my hand and her eyes held tight to mine, imploring me to reveal to her the mystery of that which awaits us on the pavement above, come the day we ascend from this labyrinth of trains... 'We will ride these beautiful basement trains forever,' said I, 'nothing awaits us; and as your beauty folds, so do my dreams. Come, my love, let us wander these tunnels of the endless city. This holy, endless city!”
― Roman Payne, The Basement Trains: A 21st Century Poem

“Fortune's fool! How we humans lie upon beauty like lizards upon a sun-baked rock.”
― Roman Payne

“What a face this girl possessed!—Could I neither die then nor gaze at her face every day, I would need to recreate it through painting or sculpture, or through fatherhood, until a second such face could be born.”
― Roman Payne, The Wanderess

“Whilst the wolflets bayed,
A grave was made,
And then with the strokes of a silver spade,
It was filled to make a mound.
And for two cold days and three long nights,
The father tended that holy plot;
And stayed by where his wife was laid, In the grave within the ground.”
― Roman Payne, Cities & Countries

“The poet believed that 'Beauty' first entered the world not at its creation, nor with the first garden, the first sunrise, the birth of the first man and woman and their first sexual act. The poet believed that 'Beauty' entered the world the day the first child blushed.”
― Roman Payne

“May I take your vein for a moment? I find myself... curiously depleted"
Okay, right. Talk about your Johnny-on-the-spots: He locked them in and all but tore off his arm and threw it at her.”
― J.R. Ward, Lover Unleashed

“Payne put her palm up to her pounding heart. “I . . . don’t understand why you would . . . do this?”
He glanced over his shoulder, staring at the human she loved. “You’re my sister. And he’s what you want.” He shrugged. “And . . . well, I fell in love with a human. I fell in love with my Jane within an hour of meeting her — and . . . yeah. I’ve got nothing without her. If what you feel for Manello is even
half what I have for my shellan, your life is never going to be complete without him —”
― J.R. Ward, Lover Unleashed

“The Love of Europa: She called herself Europa. She was wild in her wandering, a drop of free water. She believed only in her life and in her dreams. She called herself Europa, and her god was Beauty.”
― Roman Payne, The Love of Europa: Limited Time Edition

“Gentlemen,” the king called out, “and ladies, First Meal is getting cold.”
Which was the cue for everyone to head back to the dining room and actually eat what had been only studiously ignored up until now.
With Payne safe and at home, appetites were free to roam once more . . . although as God was his witness he was not going to think about what the hell that surgeon and his sister were no doubt about to get into.
As he groaned, Jane tightened her arm around his waist. “Are you all right?”
He glanced down at his shellan. “I don’t think my sister is old enough to have sex.”
“V, she’s the same age you are.”
He frowned for a moment. Was she? Or had he been born first?
Yeah, only one place to go for the answer to that. Shit, he hadn’t even thought of his mother in all this. And now that he was . . . he had absolutely no desire or interest to pop up there and announce that Payne was doing great, fuck you very much.
Nope. If the Scribe Virgin wanted to keep tabs on what her “children” were up to? She could look into those fakakta seeing bowls she liked so much.
He kissed his shellan. “I don’t care what the calendar says or about the birth order. That’s my baby sister, and she’s never going to be old enough to . . . ‘um, yeah.’ ”
Jane laughed and retucked herself under his arm. “You are a very sweet male.”
“Nah.”
“Yeah.”
Leading her into the dining room and over to the table, he gallantly pulled her chair out for her, and then he sat to her left so that she was at his dagger hand.

- Vishous & Jane”
― J.R. Ward, Lover Unleashed