“So, his cock accidently slipped into your pussy?”
― Marita A. Hansen, quote from Behind the Tears
“I betcha masturbate while reading your books. He started imitating a woman's voice. "Oh fuck me harder, Flabio, oh yes, oh no, but we shouldn't , you're too big and I'm a virgin, but oh, you fit so right, but we still mustn't, we're not married, but oh, oh, oh, yes, yes, YES! ~ Dante”
― Marita A. Hansen, quote from Behind the Tears
“But YOU hurt me. You ripped my heart out and spat on it.” He grabbed the neck of her blouse and tore it open, then placed a hand on her heart and pushed her against the wall. “Do you have a heart in there or are you just a stone-cold bitch who enjoys screwing with people’s lives?" (Dante speaking to Beth).”
― Marita A. Hansen, quote from Behind the Tears
“I don't sleep with that many chicks, and if I did, so what? There's nuthin' wrong with sex. It's you religious types who have a problem with it, slut-shaming people who enjoy what your so-called God gave them.”
― Marita A. Hansen, quote from Behind the Tears
“He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, his visage a portrait of sex. (A description of Dante).”
― Marita A. Hansen, quote from Behind the Tears
“She pulled off her blouse and threw it at him, her hands shaking badly. She needed to shock him into silence, because she couldn’t handle much more of his venom, plus she was willing to do anything to get him, to make him want her as much as she wanted him, and if it meant stripping down to nothing then she’d do it, because he was already stripping her nerves raw." (Beth with Dante).”
― Marita A. Hansen, quote from Behind the Tears
“I can't take loving people only for them to be taken away. Everyone I love leaves me. I hate it, I fuckin'hate it, it's not right, Can't you stop it, just stop it, fuck, get it to stop!”
― Marita A. Hansen, quote from Behind the Tears
“If he's after sledge I'd say he's a bottom, and a very sore one if he succeeds , cos your bro looks like he's got a third leg down there, it's so fucking huge. Got an eyeful once when I walked in on him while he was showering"...”
― Marita A. Hansen, quote from Behind the Tears
“Nothing is worse in prison than the consciousness of one's innocenc; it prevents acclimatizatin and undermines one's morale...”
― Arthur Koestler, quote from Darkness at Noon
“عندما بكيتُ شعرتُ أنني امرأة أخرى انفصلت عني، وأرى حياتي من الخارج وأبكي متألمة على حياتي كما يبكي قارئ وهو يقلب صفحات كتاب ويرى رسوما مؤلمة.”
― Orhan Pamuk, quote from My Name is Red
“EDMUND
*Then with alcoholic talkativeness
You've just told me some high spots in your memories. Want to hear mine? They're all connected with the sea. Here's one. When I was on the Squarehead square rigger, bound for Buenos Aires. Full moon in the Trades. The old hooker driving fourteen knots. I lay on the bowsprit, facing astern, with the water foaming into spume under me, the masts with every sail white in the moonlight, towering high above me. I became drunk with the beauty and signing rhythm of it, and for a moment I lost myself -- actually lost my life. I was set free! I dissolved in the sea, became white sails and flying spray, became beauty and rhythm, became moonlight and the ship and the high dim-starred sky! I belonged, without past or future, within peace and unity and a wild joy, within something greater than my own life, or the life of Man, to Life itself! To God, if you want to put it that way. Then another time, on the American Line, when I was lookout on the crow's nest in the dawn watch. A calm sea, that time. Only a lazy ground swell and a slow drowsy roll of the ship. The passengers asleep and none of the crew in sight. No sound of man. Black smoke pouring from the funnels behind and beneath me. Dreaming, not keeping looking, feeling alone, and above, and apart, watching the dawn creep like a painted dream over the sky and sea which slept together. Then the moment of ecstatic freedom came. the peace, the end of the quest, the last harbor, the joy of belonging to a fulfillment beyond men's lousy, pitiful, greedy fears and hopes and dreams! And several other times in my life, when I was swimming far out, or lying alone on a beach, I have had the same experience. Became the sun, the hot sand, green seaweed anchored to a rock, swaying in the tide. Like a saint's vision of beatitude. Like a veil of things as they seem drawn back by an unseen hand. For a second you see -- and seeing the secret, are the secret. For a second there is meaning! Then the hand lets the veil fall and you are alone, lost in the fog again, and you stumble on toward nowhere, for no good reason!
*He grins wryly.
It was a great mistake, my being born a man, I would have been much more successful as a sea gull or a fish. As it is, I will always be a stranger who never feels at home, who does not really want and is not really wanted, who can never belong, who must always be a a little in love with death!
TYRONE
*Stares at him -- impressed.
Yes, there's the makings of a poet in you all right.
*Then protesting uneasily.
But that's morbid craziness about not being wanted and loving death.
EDMUND
*Sardonically
The *makings of a poet. No, I'm afraid I'm like the guy who is always panhandling for a smoke. He hasn't even got the makings. He's got only the habit. I couldn't touch what I tried to tell you just now. I just stammered. That's the best I'll ever do, I mean, if I live. Well, it will be faithful realism, at least. Stammering is the native eloquence of us fog people.”
― Eugene O'Neill, quote from Long Day's Journey Into Night
“I've always wanted to be a cat. Warm and domesticated when you want to be, wild when you don't.”
― Jenny Downham, quote from Before I Die
“Bonnie, believe in me. I’ll save you.
I remember how to fly.”
― L.J. Smith, quote from Nightfall
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