Dying is overrated. Human sentimentality has twisted it into the ultimate act of love. Biggest load of bullshit in the world. Dying for someone isn't the hard thing. The man that dies escapes. Plain and simple. Game over. End of pain...Try living for someone. Through it all-good, bad, thick, thin, joy, suffering. That's the hard thing.
Although love could grow in times of peace, it tempered in battle. Daddy told me once - when I'd said something about how perfect his relationship with Mom was - that I should have seen the first five years of their marriage, that they'd fought like hellions, crashed into each other like two giant stones. That eventually they'd eroded each other into the perfect fit, become a single wall, nestled into each other's curves and hollows, her strengths chinking his weaknesses, her weaknesses reinforced by his strengths.
And Mega has a crush on Chester." "I do not!" "Do too, Mega." "He's like, old!" "How old, Christian says." "Like at least thirty or something." Lor laughs. " Fucking ancient, ain't it, kid?" "Dude," I agree. I like Lor.
It's just that in the Deep South, women learn at a young age that when the world is falling apart around you, it's time to take down the drapes and make a new dress.
Was he a good kisser, Ms. Lane?†Barrons asked, watching me carefully. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand at the memory. “It was like being owned.†Some women like that.†Not me.†Perhaps it depends on the man doing the owning.†I doubt it. I couldn’t breathe with him kissing me.†One day you may kiss a man you can’t breathe without, and find breath is of little consequence.†Right, and one day my prince might come.†I doubt he’ll be a prince, Ms. Lane. Men rarely are.
It's just another of Robin's sayings. Like, 'Holy strawberries, Batman, we're in a jam! Or, Holy Kleenex, Batman, it was right under our nose and we blew it!
The more excited I get, the more I vibrate." "Now there's a thought," Lor says. "If you mean what I think you mean, you want to shut the fuck up and never think it again," Ryodan says.
You, Ms. Lane, are a menace to others! A walking, talking catastrophe in pink!
Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset, to touch the one you love, to try again. “Hell would be waking up and wanting nothing,†he agrees.
I love books, by the way, way more than movies. Movies tell you what to think. A good book lets you choose a few thoughts for yourself. Movies show you the pink house. A good book tells you there's a pink house and lets you paint some of the finishing touches, maybe choose the roof style,park your own car out front. My imagination has always topped anything a movie could come up with. Case in point, those darned Harry Potter movies. That was so not what that part-Veela-chick, Fleur Delacour, looked like.