“Everything’s not always black and white, Princess. Sometimes we have to do shit because there’s not another choice. Maybe you should think about that before you snub your nose at me.”
“Don’t cry, Princess. You know what they say. You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you meet your prince.”
“Colt lies on my bed and pulls me down behind him. I expect him to go for my clothes, but instead he kisses me again.
“Blanket.” I mutter, between kisses.
“If you’re cold I’m doing something wrong.”
“I'm a prick half the time, but you make me better. You make me happy. I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”
“I'm fucking good at this boyfriend shit. Who would have thought?”
“This isn’t a fucking game anymore. No charades here. I don’t know exactly what to call it, but whatever it is, it’s ours. I’m going to latch onto it. And never let go.”
“But when he smiles? Really smiles, it’s perfect. Like toothpaste commercial, boy-next-door beauty that makes it really hard to be pissed at him.”
“Just know that you can. I won’t tell. I might not be able to do much for you, but I’ll hold your secrets.”
“I thought this was a game,” I remind him.
“Not anymore and you know it. Everything else in my life is all fucked up. This is the only thing that’s real.”
“You don't have to do it on your own. Let me take some of the weight, baby."
But he has so much already. "You have your own problems."
"We'll share each others.”
“It's easier to hide in the dark...but easier to let go too.”
“The cup is half full, sunshine and flowers and I try to act like I agree, but really I’m pissed someone dumped out half of my drink.”
“I’m tired of running … This is the only thing that’s real. Don’t run from me, Tiny Dancer.”
“My face is in his neck and I think if I was going to cry, this would be the perfect place to do it”
“Tomorrow… don’t remind me I said this. I won’t want to talk about it, but tonight… keep me safe.”
“Words are so ridiculous sometimes. They don't really mean anything, but they're all I have.”
“Pity isn't the only thing I don't do. Princesses are high on my lists too.”
“A laugh jumps out of my mouth, surprising me. I can’t even remember the last time I laughed and it puts me on edge. I suddenly want to do the same thing to her. Let her see how it feels to teeter on that cliff.”
“I feel like a dick for being an ass.”
“I don’t know how in the fuck we got here, but somehow this game is more real than anything else.
And I want it.
I fucking want it.”
“Is it crazy that I’m proud of her for standing up to me at the same time that I’m pissed at her?”
“When we pull away we’re both breathing hard, but I don’t think she’s thinking about her aunt or her mom anymore. “Damn I’m good.”
“She loves him the way a mother should love their child. Thoroughly. Completely. To her, he's the most important person in the world and I'm so very happy they have that.”
“We can't always control what we don't like, Tiny Dancer.”
“There’s no talking. No laughing. Nothing but eager hands and sad eyes.”
“I squeeze my eyes shut as though that will somehow make it go away, but I know it won’t. It happened and there’s no changing it. No changing any of the things that happen to us. All there is to do is move on. Starting now.”
“I grab her arms and pull her toward me. Now she has her arms wrapped around my waist and we’re chest to chest. She’s laughing and I almost want to laugh with her. For a second it feels real and okay. The knot in my gut loosens and I’m not scared to breathe.”
“you're just pissed you liked it”
“You guys think you fooled me in the beginning,” she rasps. “You were only fooling yourself.”
“Yo podría no ser capaz de hacer mucho por ti, pero yo voy a guardar tus secretos.”
“Modern novels. So difficult—all about such unpleasant people, doing such very odd things and not, apparently, even enjoying them. “Sex” as a word had not been mentioned in Miss Marple’s young days; but there had been plenty of it—not talked about so much—but enjoyed far more than nowadays, or so it seemed to her. Though usually labelled Sin, she couldn’t help feeling that that was preferable to what it seemed to be nowadays—a kind of Duty.”
“Carpe Diem
By Edna Stewart
Shakespeare, Robert Frost, Walt Whitman did it, why can't I?
The words of Horace, his laconic phrase. Does it amuse me or frighten me?
Does it rub salt in an old wound? Horace, Shakespeare, Robert Frost and Walt Whitman my loves,
we've all had a taste of the devils carpe of forbidden food.
My belly is full of mourning over life mishaps of should have's, missed pleasure, and why was I ever born?
The leaf falls from the trees from which it was born in and cascade down like a feather that tumbles and toil in the wind.
One gush! It blows away. It’s trampled, raked, burned and finally turns to ashes which fades away like the leaves of grass.
Did Horace get it right? Trust in nothing?
The shortness of Life is seventy years, Robert Frost and Whitman bared more, but Shakespeare did not.
Butterflies of Curiosities allures me more.
Man is mortal, the fruit is ripe. Seize more my darling!
Enjoy the day.”
“пътищата Божии са неведоми. Постарай се да проумееш какво се опитва да направи той. Никой мързеливец не вярва в Господ, то това не е лесна работа. Нужен е силен дух и вяра, и желание да повярваш. Както и при всичко важно в живота, получаваш толкова, колкото и даваш. Само че когато имаш вяра, получаваш много повече.”
“Technically, I’m right up there, I think. But the really great artists have something—I don’t think anyone can really quantify it—that I don’t. But that’s okay. I’m happy with”
“Alysandir is a fine horseman," Isobella said. He was about to dismount, and she stepped upon a stool to get a better view. Just as she did so, he glanced toward the window in her direction. Sybilla gasped and brought her hand to her chest with an open-mouthed amazement. "Did ye see that?" Isobella did not want to be singled out, so she replied, "He was just being courteous." "Nae. He recognized ye in front of all and sundry," she said, with a shy smile that made her lovely grey-blue eyes shine as brilliantly as the golden locks of her hair braided on top of her hair. " I don't know why. I've been nothing but a thorn in his side." "That isn't what Alysandri said," Sybilla replied. "He was most full praise about ye." Isobella glanced at Sybilla, who smiled innocently, which was her way of letting her visitor know that that was all she was going to say on the subject.”
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