Do I love you because you're beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you? Am I making believe I see in you, a woman too perfect to be really true? Do I want you because you're wonderful, or are you wonderful because I want you? Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream, or are you really as beautiful as you seem?
Love doesn’t have to be on Valentine’s Day. It doesn’t have to be by the time you turn eighteen or thirty-three or fifty-nine. It doesn’t have to conform to whatever is usual. It doesn’t have to be kismet at once, or rhapsody by the third day.It just has to be. In time. In place. In spirt.It just has to be.
My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?"That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. "What about them?""The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those..." He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful.
We'll go down to the stream behind the house with a bottle of wine and none of our clothes and remind each other that--even in the midst of so much goodness--there are delightful ways to be wicked. And we'll swim and laugh and kiss, and the stars will shine, beautiful and bright, but Ariel will always shine brighter.At least for me.
First of all, I have standards. I've never been with an ugly woman. Ever. Second of all, I wanted to sleep with you. I thought about throwing you over my couch fifty different ways, but I haven't because I don't see you that way anymore. It's not that I'm not attracted to you, I just think you're better than that. - Travis
He's my father!" she bellowed, pointing to Trevanion."Vestie!" Beatriss said firmly, stopping to stare up at her. "I'll snip at the tongue if I ever see it in such a way again! Trevanion, speak to her."Vestie hung her head, shamefaced."Vestie," he said, his voice still gentle."Yes, Father.""Shout it out louder, my love. Shout it out louder.
I'm not saying that Beautiful Peole don't have the right to exist... I'm not saying they should be rounded up and taken to an island. I'm just saying that they are never, ever to be trusted because they can never know what it's like not to be Beautiful and their priority will always be being Beautiful with other Beautiful People.
I'm not saying that Beautiful People don't have the right to exist... I'm not saying they should be rounded up and taken to an island. I'm just saying that they are never, ever to be trusted because they can never know what it's like not to be Beautiful and their priority will always be being Beautiful with other Beautiful People.
Do not fall in love with people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth.I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
The Clown turned his powdered face to the mirror."If to be fair is to be beautiful," he said, "who can compare with me in my white mask?""Who can compare with him in his white mask?" I asked Death beside me."Who can compare with me?" said Death, "for I am paler still.""You are very beautiful," sighed the Clown, turning his powdered face from the mirror.
In a world full of war, famine, oppression, deceit, monotony, what—apart from the eternal innocence of animals—offers an image of hope? A mother with a newborn child in her arms? The child may end up as a murderer or a murder victim, so that the hopeful image is a prefiguration of a pietà: a mother with her newly dead child on her lap.
Sometimes stars do fall to earth. It was true. They did and then became commonplace like the rest of the dirt on the planet. His star was one of a kind.He would never allow her to be like any other. Never allow her to be common or sullied.No, her place was in the sky. With her family. With her stinking pet wolf. Never with him. "Have a nice life, princess.
I'm not a perfect girl my hair doesn't always stay in place and i spill things a lot I'm pretty clumsy and sometimes I have a broken heart my friends and I sometimes fight and maybe some days nothing goes right but when I think about it and take a step back and remember how beautiful life truly is and maybe just maybe I like being imperfect<3
She often spoke to falling seeds and said, "Ah hope you fall on soft ground," because she had heard seeds saying that to each other as they passed. The familiar people and things had failed her so she hung over the gate and looked up the road towards way off. She knew now that marriage did not make love. Janie's first dream was dead, so she became a woman.
Funny hoe everything can change in an instant. From death to life. From empty to full. From darkness to light. Or maybe I just wasn't looking. I hadn't known that light could be a feeling and sound could be a color and a kiss could be both a question and an answer. And that heaven could be the ocean or a person or this moment or something else entirely.
