“ 'Sugar, aint you ever had no good time?' she said with a bit of sadness in her voice.
'What you mean?' Sugar said,...
'Seems to me that I ain't never see you look up from whatever you were doing and just smile.'
'Just smile? Smile at what? At who?'
'Smile into the air, girl!' she said and waved her arm through the air....you better start, 'cause time is running and a life without good times ain't a life worth having.”
“When things were bad, time had a habit of taking its time to pass, making sure you experienced every painful moment. When things were good and contentment abundant, time moved like the wind, hurrying precious moments along and forcing things that normally require nurturing to grow and forge quickly.”
“But grief let loose from a woman who lost a child—that was the worst type of grief of all.”
“Baby, everybody got their own reasons for doing things they do in life. It don’t matter what her reason was at the time, what matters is she come back for you, and even though you might think it’s too late, it ain’t never too late where a mother and her child is concerned.”
“Joe lulls the man into the afterlife, places his head gently on the ground, closes the lids over his empty eyes, retrieves his gun and continues to fight for a freedom he would never be fully entitled to.”
“Baby, everybody got their own reasons for doing things they do in life.”
“Sugar ain’t spoiled, she just a little bruised, is all. Bruises can heal and fade away to nothing.”
“What kinda women you is? You gonna let a man lay up on another woman in your own house and not do nothing about it?”
“You see, no one ever told her to keep her legs closed and crossed at the ankles. No one ever said: “Save it for the one you love” or “Good girls say no.”
“Keeping her man well fed and fucked are number one priorities that she can’t slack on because you can never know when a woman dressed to the nines with a blond wig, long legs and a high fat ass that should have been equal to you in almost every way may decide to hop on the first southbound Greyhound and end up looking at you through whispering letters on a dusty storefront window.”
“There’s a little bit of hooker in every woman. A little bit of hooker and a little bit of God.” —Sarah Miles”
“How can you hear your soul if everyone is talking?” He said nothing more that day, but Ha’anala spent hours considering his words. A soul, she decided, was the most real part of a person, and to discover what is real requires privacy.”
“Above all, he liked it that everything was one's own fault. There was only oneself to praise or blame. Luck was a servant and not a master. Luck had to be accepted with a shrug or taken advantage of up to the hilt. But it had to be understood and recognized for what it was and not confused with a faulty appreciation of the odds, for, at gambling, the deadly sin is to mistake bad play for bad luck. And luck in all its moods had to be loved and not feared. Bond saw luck as a woman, to be softly wooed or brutally ravaged, never pandered to or pursued. But he was honest enough to admit that he had never yet been made to suffer by cards or by women. One day, and he accepted the fact, he would be brought to his knees by love or by luck. When that happened he knew that he too would be branded with the deadly question-mark he recognized so often in others, the promise to pay before you have lost: the acceptance of fallibility.”
“you either kill your enemies or you leave them the fuck alone.”
“In this transparency, the footprints of the little birds spoke with a muffled voice. What they spoke of was entirely without significance, or else something capable of lifting a life off its hinges: there was no way of knowing.”
“You have no idea, do you?” “No, but that sounded good when they said it on Star Trek.”
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