“Maybe I should be a lawyer instead of a magical baker, Rose thought. Lawyers' mistakes rarely result in old men climbing on top of towers and taking off their pants.
~Bliss”
― quote from Bliss
“Maybe I should be a lawyer instead of a magical baker, Rose though. Lawyers' mistakes rarely result in old men climbing on top of towers and taking off their pants.
~Bliss”
― quote from Bliss
“Dia tidak pernah takut pada laba-laba, sepeda yang kotor, atau jemarinya terkena panas oven--dan dia sering mengalami semua itu. Namun, berjalan ke ruangan yang sama dengan pria yang ditaksirnya? Itu menakutkan.”
― quote from Bliss
“Bernard Bastable!” Miss Thistle shouted, finally. “I love you too! I want to make you my frog prince! Never in all my years have I seen a man with such magnificent, froglike charisma! You are a treasure! Kiss me now!”
― quote from Bliss
“he disclosed that he had been set upon by two Bedlamites, both of whom had jumped out from behind a bush, roaring at him like a couple of ferocious wild beasts ... The Sergeant cast a doubtful glance at Lieutenant Ottershaw, for, in his opinion, this had a false ring. His men, as he frequently informed them, put him forcibly in mind of many things, ranging from gape-seeds, hedge-birds, slush-buckets, and sheep-biters, to beetles, tailless dogs, and dead herrings, but none of them, least of all the two raw dragoons in question, had ever reminded him of a ferocious wild beast. Field-mice, yes, he thought, remembering the sad loss of steel in those posted to watch the Dower House; but if the young gentleman had detected any resemblance to ferocious wild beasts in his assailants, the Sergeant was prepared to take his Bible oath they had not been the baconbrained knock-in-the-cradles he had posted (much against his will) within the ground of Darracott place.
But Sergeant Hoole had never, until this disastrous evening, set eyes on Mr. Claud Darracott. Lieutenant Ottershaw had beheld that Pink of the Ton picking his delicate way across the cobbles in Rye, clad in astonishing but unquestionably modish raiment, and holding a quizzing-glass up to his eye with one fragile white hand, and it did not strike him as remarkable that this Bartholomew baby should liken two overzealous dragoons to wild beasts.”
― Georgette Heyer, quote from The Unknown Ajax
“Luke came to me and took the gun out of my hand. “I need to find a way to erase the last three minutes,” he muttered, sounding aggrieved.
“Why?” I asked.
“I just watched my boy’s sister strip. There’s laws against that,” he replied, not taking his eyes off Mace … but I had a feeling what Luke was doing was studiously avoiding seeing me in sequined undies and stripper shoes.
“No there’s not,” I said to Luke and he finally looked at me.
“Babe, there are. Trust me,” he stated.”
― Kristen Ashley, quote from Rock Chick Revolution
“Steven’s words slush together as he gets to his feet. “Crossing this one off the bucket list.” Then he
unbuckles his belt and grabs the waist of his pants—yanking the suckers down to his ankles—tighty
whities and all.
Every guy in the car holds up his hands to try to block the spectacle. We groan and complain. “My
eyes! They burn!”
“Put the boa constrictor back in his cage, man.”
“This is not the ass I planned on seeing tonight.”
Our protests fall on deaf ears. Steven is a man on a mission. Wordlessly, he squats and shoves his lilywhite
ass out the window—mooning the gaggle of grannies in the car next to us.
I bet you thought this kind of stuff only happened in movies.
He grins while his ass blows in the wind for a good ninety seconds, ensuring optimal viewage. Then
he pulls his slacks up, turns around, and leans out the window, laughing. “Enjoying the full moon, ladies?”
Wow. Steven usually isn’t the type to visually assault the elderly.
Without warning, his crazy cackling is cut off. He’s silent for a beat, then I hear him choke out a single
strangled word.
“Grandma?”
Then he’s diving back into the limo, his face grayish, dazed, and totally sober. He stares at the floor.
“No way that just happened.”
Matthew and I look at each other hopefully, then we scramble to the window. Sure enough, in the
driver’s seat of that big old Town Car is none other than Loretta P. Reinhart. Mom to George; Grandma to
Steven.
What are the fucking odds, huh?
Loretta was always a cranky old bitch. No sense of humor. Even when I was a kid she hated me.
Thought I was a bad influence on her precious grandchild.
Don’t know where she got that idea from.
She moved out to Arizona years ago. Like a lot of women her age, she still enjoys a good tug on the
slot machine—hence her frequent trips to Sin City. Apparently this is one such trip.
Matthew and I wave and smile and in fourth-grader-like, singsong harmony call out, “Hi, Mrs.
Reinhart.”
She shakes one wrinkled fist in our direction. Then her poofy-haired companion in the backseat flips
us the bird. I’m pretty sure it’s the funniest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.
The two of us collapse back into our seats, laughing hysterically.”
― Emma Chase, quote from Tied
“There’s nothing or no one here that could possibly hurt the Fates—right, Mina?”
― Chanda Hahn, quote from Fable
“He’s standoffish, all moody and dark, but more importantly, he’s the friggin’ starting QB for the tide!”
“Official statistics – six foot three, two-hundred and thirty-five pounds of solid muscle!” Cass added excitedly.
“He’s a what? For who?”
― Tillie Cole, quote from Sweet Home
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