The V Girl

You usually can’t recall all the people you’ve shared laughs with. But you rarely forget the people you’ve shared your tears with.

The human touch is that little snippet of physical affection that brings a bit of comfort, support, and kindness. It doesn’t take much from the one who gives it, but can make a huge difference in the one who receives it.

Real love ought to be more like a tree and less like a flower. That's the kind of love my parents had. Not so consuming and more everlasting. And you see that tree over there? Now it's only showing green leaves, but during the spring it's covered in flowers. Because as reliable as trees are, they can also speak of beauty and passion.

Most girls prefer flowers over trees.' I brush my fingers on the petals." These orange flowers blossom quickly. Thay speak of passion. Of beauty." I take a witheting flower that had dropped to the ground and worry it between my fingers. "But they don't last; they wither so easily. Flowers have limited growth. A tree might not speak of passion but sturdiness. Yet it grows higher and lasts more. Some of these trees have been here before I was born and they'll be here once I'm gone.

I'm a woman, Aleksey. I'm not the simplistic, flawless creature the world expects me to be. I'm imperfect, I'm multidimensional. I make mistakes all the time and I'll make even more as life challenges me. And I don't want to be afraid of messing things up. Firstly because I'll learn from my mistakes, but more importantly, they're what make me human.

The life of a man, no matter how humble, no matter how powerful can be condensed to a single moment ... the moment he has found the woman he will love for life.

If as we see nightfall, we become capable of accepting love, let’s celebrate an alliance with our unbroken delusions. Who ever knew we would say goodbye to oblivion? Who ever knew we would accept hope?

When someone has gifted you with one act of love after another, it’s only fair to ignore their bad moods and concentrate exclusively in the many things they’ve done for you. Acts and feelings should always prevail over moods and words.

Among the fluctuation of the river currents, an abyss as green as the sea, its extension and profundity as immense as the ocean opened before me: the eyes of a beautiful girl. I succumbed into that abyss instantly, like a man who falls from the highest cliff into the ocean … … and I drowned.

Love is a complex, wild feelings that can't be tamed using the whip of what is right and what is not.

One day I overheard Olmo ask him, “Why don’t you talk, Prince Aleksey?” The cop tore a piece of paper from his journal, scribbled something, and handed my brother the note. Olmo grinned and regarded Aleksey with admiring eyes. “Cool!” Olmo showed me the note later. Only four words: I don’t want to.

I’ve put my life at risk for others ever since I joined the Army. It’d be a nice change to risk my life for something I want for me." His humorless face smolders. "I crave you.

No girl can jump from thinking a man can rape her to falling head over heels for him.

It’s easier to run away than to stay and group together and fight for a change in our own country,

It's not about making you mine. I want to be yours". I'm yours already".

It's always better to expect for the worst. If the worst happens, you are prepared for it; if it doesn't, you get surprised and become grateful.

I need a reminder that sex is a natural act and an expression of love. I may never have that kind of love for myself but at least I can fantasize about it.

I’ve put my life to risk for others ever since I joined the Army. It’d be a nice change to risk my life for something I want for me.” His humorless face smolders. “I crave you.

I want my destiny to leave the path that is taking.

I'm so denied to love that I won't even pretend I'm not.

She keeps her pain to herself and shows her cynical side all the time.

It’s not easy being a virgin, is it, Layla?” “In a country where rape is legal? No, it isn’t,

I’m more afraid of the living. Dead people can’t rape me. There’s

I hear my father's voice. "Political differences divided what used to be America into The Nationalist States and The Patriot States: Then Nats declared war on the Patriots. Why?" Olmo answers in an overly enthusiastic tone. "Because they couldn't agree on the division of derritoryes!" "Territories," corrects Dad. "That, too," says Olmo cheerfully.

Terror surges through my body, paralyzing me. Somehow, I end up beneath the wooden floorboards. I can see everything from my hiding place. My

I can’t scream. I can’t close my eyes. Not even when they viciously beat my mother’s swollen belly. Not even when they crush my dad’s legs with their massive clubs. Stop!

I might not save myself from the ceremony, but perhaps other people will benefit from my attempts at opposition.

Most girls prefer flowers over trees.' I brush my fingers on the petals." These orange flowers blossom quickly. They speak of passion. Of beauty." I take a witheting flower that had dropped to the ground and worry it between my fingers. "But they don't last; they wither so easily. Flowers have limited growth. A tree might not speak of passion but sturdiness. Yet it grows higher and lasts more. Some of these trees have been here before I was born and they'll be here once I'm gone.

Did you ... touch me right after you called me brat?" He shakes his head. "Why not?" I ask. "You were too intoxicated to give your consent." "And?" He frowns. "If, while you were drugged, I had touched you like I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to call myself a real man.

It becomes evident that Olmo hasn't really been spotting his underwear, at least not with blood. Azzy has messed with his gullibility. Dad shoots Azzy a we'll-talk-about-this-later look. "Olmo, diarrhea and periods are very different things." Azzy smiles maliciously. "Diarrhea is hereditary; it runs in your jeans.

Meine mutige Kämpferin. Fight death with all you have.

I would never put the words ‘rape ’ and ‘play ’ in the same sentence. I there's rape, there's no play, " he says.

There's no reason to assume that all men are bad. Not even all the soldiers are monsters.

And that’s what I want for myself. A man who is different.

I writhe to free my breast from his greedy mouth, but he ignores my attempts to escape his torture. Aleksey speaks, my breast still in his mouth. “Not a chance. I’ll hear you moan, little girl.

Sexual intercourse with dubious mutual consent is frequent among other animal species. Why deprive the soldiers of a natural inclination?” Barnabas Kim. Co-Creator of the Patriot DNA Modification Program.

Fly your flight, my dear dove Sing your song, make it reach the ocean I want my freedom I want to live in peace I want to sing your song To have your wings To be able to fly I want my destiny to leave the path that it is taking now. The Dove—Eduardo Carrasco