Quotes by : Hubert Martin

They surrounded me, bare me. Their fingers like tentacles and their desires like knives. Their fingers....

Woven words are little conviction when I present myself as a man of fiction.

He spoke in polished honesty free of liar's filth. He said the hardest words with an unshakable voice,....

His eyes are covered by impermeable marble, a solidity that can never be breached. You think there is....

He was a musician of the best nature, with guitar string fingertips and soft flute lips that could tighten....

I think I feel it The nimble, fleeting emotion That novels and authors desperately Try to convey in ink....

I love her, but every hug leaves bullet holes in my chest. Every kiss is another scar upon my flesh.....

I wanted nothing more than her attention. Her thoughts filled with me. Her eyes lost in my image. I wanted....

These places I traveled through, they were a lot like the people I knew. Some abodes I muddled about....

She was poetry written in pen, scribbled and scrawled again and again. Ink splattered across the page.....