Mlle Militaire Monologue

What’s wrong? A bark of laughter echoed in the quiet, slightly pathetic in the way that it had hiccuped out of her. The smile on her face somewhat rueful despite how weighted it was with sadness. Before she could answer him, she needed to make sure that she couldn’t see his eyes -- couldn’t be able to see their slow drift from tenderness into something much more damning. So she gently released his hand and settled her arms on his lap, creating a self-made pillow to rest her

He took a sip of water to rid his torrid throat and began to speak. “Love I am sorry, about everything. You clean this house and make our dinners. You watch our son and most of all you support me any time I need it. You did not deserve the cruel things I said to you. I am truly sorry.” Mary Ann felt something ping at her heart, she almost wanted to forgive him but Henry did not stop there. “I know you must of have felt alone and scared when I pushed you away but you know how I am with work. The other officers will mock me for having a wild wife and-”

“I’m sorry, my love,” I said as my eyes began to water. She grabbed her chest in pain and stared at me. Her eyes teared up and a single tear ran down her cheek as she took her final breath. I did what I had done so many times before, but I never felt any remorse for my actions until then.

"It wasn't your fault he was... killed that day. Well it's really late and I am tired... Please forgive yourself.... Please." Queen Isabelle said looking at her brother a lone tear gently falling down her cheek. King Henry whipped away her tear and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight and... I will try... I just wish he could come back for like a second... to say he isn't mad at me. To say that he forgives me or something." The king said sadly smiling at his sister. "He probably wishes it to... He is probably watching you right now and he is sad that you are sad and that you are suffering. He loves you and so dose the rest of us... Thank you for letting us stay over for the week" Queen Isabelle said with a smile. "Not a problem! Anything for you sis." King Henry said cheering up a bit as Queen Isabelle walked to the door. "Love you... See you in the morning." Queen Isabelle said walking out of the room

I looked up at James. He stared straight ahead, out at the trees. His face was perfectly still and serious. I could see how hard he tried to hold it together for everyone, but the bloodshot lines that surrounded the blue of his eyes, told me he had cried just as much. He turned his face to look at me and I smiled just a little, to reassure him I was here, I would always be here.

She looked towards me, her face growing ever paler, she trembled, as tears began to run down her, once rosy red cheeks. her gaping mouth began to move, trying to form words. however she found it difficult as her breath was leaving her

“Claude! Why do you have to keep doing this, why do you have to keep putting the blame on yourself?! It’s no one’s fault for what happened!” she cried. “I don’t want to see... you giving into your despair. Please Claude...”

Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to fall. She laughed humorlessly. “Being back here sure brings back a lot of memories.” She pressed her fingers against her lips, thinking back on the day Rick met Amare. “Your father was such a troublemaker. But, at the same time he was very sweet. He was caring and he loved fiercely.”

"This is horrible. Even though, it has been fifteen years, I'll never adjust to life without her." He wept. It annoyed him each time that he visited her grave and had trouble controlling his emotions. Returning to the truck, he promised to stop grieving for the love of his life. This is not what she wanted. I need to take care of a few things before I go home He thought going to the

He begins the section with “I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen.” (24) Here the persona is invisible to the outside world, simply watching and waiting, responding to every single sound the city produces and relishes in its essence. This corresponds to Baudelaire’s flâneur not only as a passionate spectator but also as one who sees the world, who is at the center of the world, and yet remains hidden from it, rejoicing in his incognito.

“Steven,” I grabbed a hold of his hands and kissed the back of each. As I did this Steve raised his head just enough for me to see his red eyes brimming with tears. My heart sank as I saw his face. Immediately I pulled him into a crushing hug, one to last for the time I would be gone. His quiet sobs filled the room of the small home as I whispered words of comfort into Steve's ear.

“We’re holding up,” the woman said, running her hand through her daughter’s hair. The little girl was huddled beside her mother with her head resting on her shoulder. Seeing them reunited was a heartwarming

When I entered the “Petit Salon”, everybody was there, with the exception of Juliette, the young daughter of the Baron de Valfort. All the faces reflected a strange and eerie anticipation, their eyes, glowing like flames that turned yellow at the final stage of their burning life. Sadly, the hope that the Baron was still alive, had not completely left those present in the room. They looked at me as if they were expecting a report on his health, when unfortunately, I couldn’t even present them with a guess about the nature of his death.

“Don’t be sad, mon amour; I will take care of you,” Boudreaux whispered. His voice was soft, his touch tender. His hand softly caressing my forearm kindled a small fire deep in my loins. I turned to look into his eyes; they were gentle and filled with love for me.

Now, with newfound resolve, he thinks about the silver linings of her death. Last time, he couldn’t find anything. Grief plagued his mind then.