A Big Brother And Little Sister Quotes

I know it sounds abysmal…" he chuckled at the mere thought of it, "but I just want to be happy and content"

"Do you not dream big? Do you not want to travel?"

Kalki rounded his arms around his little brother. "Perhaps I chose not to. Perhaps big doesn't always matter. It's also the little things, specks of happiness that we go through in a day that we should look out for. It's funny how grief makes you realize the good things you have overlooked in life ~ Kevin Missal

I think I'll accept the challenge to battle. I can choose the terms, right? And I don't have the faintest idea how to 'prevent' a revolution. Besides, as far as I know, revolutions can get out of hand. Remember the German revolution, with the guillotine?"
Derna smirked. "German revolution? Guillotine? The guillotine was used in the French revolution. Nice try, little brother."
"I'm actually impressed he knew what a guillotine was," commented Armen, deadpan.
I glared at the two of them. Typical big sisters. They'd just ruined my chance to show off my knowledge. ~ Kaivallya Dasu

Oh my. He's English.

"Er. Does Mer live here?"

Seriously, I don't know any American girl who can resist an English accent.

The boy clears his throat. "Meredith Chevalier? Tall girl? Big, curly hair?" Then he looks at me like I'm crazy or half deaf, like my Nana Oliphant. Nanna just smiles and shakes her head whenever I ask, "What kind of salad dressing would you like?" or "Where did you put Granddad's false teeth?"

"I'm sorry." He takes the smallest step away from me. "You were going to bed."

"Yes! Meredith lives here. I've just spent two hours with her." I announce this proudly like my little brother, Seany, whenever he finds something disgusting in the yard. "I'm Anna! I'm new here!" Oh, [Gosh]. What. Is with. The scary enthusiasm? My cheeks catch fire, and it's all so humiliating.

The beautiful boy gives an amused grin. His teeth are lovely - straight on top and crooked on the bottom, with a touch of overbite. I'm a sucker for smiles like this, due to my own lack of orthodontia. I have a gap between my front teeth the size of a raisin.

"Étienne," he says. "I live one floor up."

"I live here." I point dumbly at my room while my mind whirs: French name, English accent, American school. Anna confused.

He raps twice on Meredith's door. "Well. I'll see you around then, Anna."

Eh-t-yen says my name like this: Ah-na. ~ Stephanie Perkins

I trust you."
"Good." There was a flash of a quick smile and then he was out of the Jeep.
I tracked him with my eyes, feeling a little dizzy. It was the truth. I did trust him and that was a big deal for me. I really hadn't trusted any guy since Jeremy, anyone except my brother. But I had trusted Jase from the moment I had met him. ~ J. Lynn

And if I get a little chemically imbalanced in the head, like we all know I tend to get sometimes, and I don't want my parents or brother knowing, Will's like, 'We'll deal with it.' He's never said, 'I'll fix it up.' He just says, 'You're not up to going back to uni to finish your Honours this year? Big deal. There's next year. We'll deal with it.'" She nods. "That's what he does well. ~ Melina Marchetta

She rounded on him. "You wouldn't, you giant ass." To be honest, she didn't understand, either. But that didn't stop her from putting several days' worth of fear and stress on the table. "I'm scared, okay? I'm lost. I don't know where I am, and everyone here looks at me like they want to eat me or torture me. Maybe both. I want to go home, but then I don't want to go home because everything I thought I knew is one big lie. The people I trusted have turned against me, and even my own brother is afraid to help me." She paused to take a breath, fresh fuel for her tirade. "I should hate you, but instead, I'm attracted to you, which is beyond twisted, especially since I know that after I get Neriya back, I'm probably going to die." She dashed away tears with the back of her hand. "So forgive me if I'm a little emotionally unstable right now." She sniffed. "Ass. ~ Larissa Ione

All I know is that you can get very little from a book that is making you weep with the effort of reading it. You won't remember it, and you'll learn nothing from it, and you'll be less likely to choose a book over Big Brother next time you have a choice. ~ Nick Hornby

I spent most of my time floating on an inflatable raft in the pristine Mediterranean waters, my big belly curving toward the sun, reading (incongruously) The Autobiography of Malcolm X. It rocked me to my core. Malcolm's story opened a window onto a reality I had ignored. But the greatest revelation the book brought me was the possibility of profound human transformation. I was spellbound by his journey from the doped-up, numbers-running, woman-beating, street-hustling, pimping Malcolm Little to a proud, clean, literate, Muslim Malcolm X who taught that all white people were the Devil incarnate - to his final, spiritual transformation in Mecca. There he met white people from all over the world who received him as a brother, and he realized that "white," as he had been using the word, didn't mean skin color as much as it meant attitudes and actions some whites held toward non-whites - but that not all whites were racist. At the time of his murder, he was anything but the hatemonger portrayed in the American press. Somehow, through the horrors that had been his life, he had become a spiritual leader. How had this been possible? ~ Jane Fonda

I still get plenty anxious. The weird thing, and the unpleasant surprise for me, of proceeding well into the middle, perhaps even post-prime of my career is that writing books has not got any easier. And that doesn't seem fair. I mean, I've been doing it so surely I should be getting better at it, at least a little bit blasé... And it seems to be working absolutely the opposite. This book [Big Brother] I had no confidence in the entirety of its composition, and I only decided I liked it when I finished the very final draft. This means I'm in a state of semi-misery for a long time. And I can't blithely seem either that's some little game I'm playing with myself because, you know, you can easily come along and you don't like what's you're writing for good reason. Right? So, yeah, it's very anxious making, I don't think it's so much the becoming a little more successful, I think it's becoming slightly more aware of how much has already been written, and just becoming less self-impressed as the years go by. More impressed with some people who are better than I am, but... It doesn't wow me that I can write a sentence any more. It has to be a really good sentence. And... I think that's what potentially leads to paralysis in late career, is a kind of killing humility.


Politics & Prose Bookstore in Washington, DC, on June 11, 2013 ~ Lionel Shriver

I am not a lady
I live in an elevator
in a big department store America.
"Your floor, lady?"
"I don't have a floor,
I live in the elevator."
"You can't just live in an elevator."
They all say that
except for the man from Time magazine
who acted very cool.
We stop and let people into
dresses, better dresses, beauty,
and on the top floor,
home furnishings and then
the credit office, suddenly stark
and no nonsense this is it.
At each floor I look out
at the ladies quietly becoming
ladies and I say "huh"
reflectively.
My hair is long and wild
full of little twigs and cockleburrs.
I visit the floors only for water.
I make my own food
from the berries and frightened rabbits -
I pray forgive me brother as I eat -
that grow wild in the elevator.
Once every three months,
solstice and equinox,
a cop comes and clubs me a little.
The man from Time says
I articulate my generation something
wobble squeegy squiggle pop pop
Yesterday pausing at childrens
I saw another lady
take off all her clothes
and go to live in #7.
We are waiting to fill
all thirteen. ~ Jean Tepperman

Down a long road through the woods a little boy trudged to school, with his big brother Royal and his two sisters, Eliza Jane and Alice. Royal was thirteen years old, Eliza Jane was twelve, and Alice was ten. Almanzo was the youngest of all, and this was his first going-to-school, because he was not quite nine years old. ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

I call it your source-fracture wound, the original break in your heart from long ago. It may have happened in an instant--a little rejection, a shocking abandonment, or a slight misattunement that suddenly made you realize how alone you were in this world. Or perhaps it was a bit-bu-bit splintering as over the years you met with an intermittent meanness, an unpredictable but repetitive abuse, or a neglect that stole your childhood inches at a time. Wherever, however, or whenever it happened, one thing we can assume is that no adult helped you make accurate meaning of your confusing and painful experience. No grown up sat you down and lovingly said, "No, honey, it's not that you're stupid. It's that your big brother is scared and insecure." "It's not that you don't matter, angel. It's that Daddy has a drinking problem and needs help." "It's not that you're not enough. It's that Mommy has clinical depression, dear, and it's neither your fault nor yours to fix." Without this mature presence to help explain to you what was happening to your little world, you probably came to some pretty strong and wrong conclusions about who you were and what was possible for you to have in life. And those conclusions became a habit of consciousness, a filter through which you interpret and then respond to the events of your life, making your grief all the more complex. ~ Katherine Woodward Thomas

My brother has two children now, so I've been playing aunt Renee. They're two and four. It's chaos. Moms out there, kudos to you. The cool thing about being an aunt is like, I can leave. No offense to my big brother Drew, but that is slavery. I dare you to take a shower. You can't do anything unless they let you. It's a dictatorship. They're little dictators in their crib. ~ Renee Zellweger

that he had to be respectful to his parents, and even if he wasn't a Christian, he couldn't make fun of people who went to church. He was also supposed to go to church, even if his parents didn't go - which lots of parents don't, and should. As you maybe know, if you've read some of the other stories about the Sugar Creek Gang, about half of us were not Christians at first. Little Jim had nearly all the religion there was in the whole gang, but most of us became Christians. Dragonfly was the last one of us to be saved - except for little red-haired Tom Till, whose father wouldn't believe in God and whose mother had never had a chance in life to be happy, which is maybe one reason Little Tom Till's big brother, Bob, had turned out to be such a bad boy. It is not easy for a boy to become a Christian unless his father is one too. Most boys do what their dads ~ Paul Hutchens

When I moved to L. A. with this little wimpy garage band, the first people we met were the Doors. Then we met Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin. All of the people who died of excess were our big brothers and sisters. So I said to myself: How do you become a legend and enjoy it? The answer is to create a character as legendary as those guys and leave that character on the stage. ~ Alice Cooper

It happens every millennium. Now more than ever, man threatens to destroy himself with his own technology, and all the ideas contained within Big Brother exist within Little Brother. We're all watching ourselves. We are our own oppressors. This is a time when an idea like God is needed more than ever. For me, I've found that God exists within yourself and what you create. The only thing we've got to look forward to is saving ourselves ~ Marilyn Manson

Your brother?" St. Clair points above my bed to the only picture I've hung up. Seany is grinning at the camera and pointing at one of my mother's research turtles,which is lifting its neck and threatening to take away his finger. Mom is doing a study on the lifetime reproductive habits of snapping turtles and visits her brood in the Chattahoochie River several times a month. My brother loves to go with her, while I prefer the safety of our home. Snapping turtles are mean.
"Yep.That's Sean."
"That's a little Irish for a family with tartan bedspreads."
I smile. "It's kind of a sore spot. My mom loved the name,but Granddad-my father's father-practically died when he heard it.He was rooting for Malcolm or Ewan or Dougal instead."
St. Clair laughs. "How old is he?"
"Seven.He's in the second grade."
"That's a big age difference."
"Well,he was either an accident or a last-ditch effort to save a failing marriage.I've never had the nerve to ask which. ~ Stephanie Perkins

Dressed for Success"

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Tried to make it little by little
Tried to make it bit by bit on my own
Quit the job the gray believers
Another town where I get close to the bone

Whatcha gonna tell your brother?
Oh, oh, oh
Whatcha gonna tell your father?
I don't know
Whatcha gonna tell your mother?
Let me go

I'm gonna get dressed for success
Shaping me up for the big time, baby
Get dressed for success
Shaping it up for your love
For your love, yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm not afraid, a trembling flower
I'll feed your heart and blow the dust from your eyes, oh, oh, oh
And in the dark things happen faster
I love the way you sway your hips next to mine

Whatcha gonna tell your brother?
Oh, oh, oh
Whatcha gonna tell your father?
I don't know
Whatcha gonna tell your mother?
Let me go

I'm gonna get dressed for success
Shaping me up for the big time baby
Get dressed for success
Shaping it up for your love, yeah
(Look sharp)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh, oh

Whatcha gonna tell your brother?
Oh, oh, oh
Whatcha gonna tell your father?
I don't know
Whatcha gonna tell your mother?
Let me go

(Dressed for success)
I'm gonna get
(Dressed for success)

I'm gonna get dressed for success
Hitting a s ~ Roxette

While Mum was a busy working mother, helping my father in his constituency duties and beyond, Lara became my surrogate mum. She fed me almost every supper I ate--from when I was a baby up to about five years old. She changed my nappies, she taught me to speak, then to walk (which, with so much attention from her, of course happened ridiculously early). She taught me how to get dressed and to brush my teeth.
In essence, she got me to do all the things that either she had been too scared to do herself or that just simply intrigued her, such as eating raw bacon or riding a tricycle down a steep hill with no brakes.
I was the best rag doll of a baby brother that she could have ever dreamt of.
It is why we have always been so close. To her, I am still her little baby brother. And I love her for that. But--and this is the big but--growing up with Lara, there was never a moment's peace. Even from day one, as a newborn babe in the hospital's maternity ward, I was paraded around, shown off to anyone and everyone--I was my sister's new "toy." And it never stopped.
It makes me smile now, but I am sure it is why in later life I craved the peace and solitude that mountains and the sea bring. I didn't want to perform for anyone, I just wanted space to grow and find myself among all the madness.
It took a while to understand where this love of the wild came from, but in truth it probably developed from the intimacy found with my father on the shores of Northern Ire ~ Bear Grylls

I was in Las Vegas when the Nogueira brothers first touched down in America. There was a bus, this is a true story. There was a bus that pulled up to a red light, and Little Nog tried to feed it a carrot, while Big Nog was petting it. He thought it was a horse. This really happened. He tried to feed a bus a carrot, and now you're telling me this country has computers? I didn't know that. ~ Chael Sonnen

Henry would never come right out and tell Eddie not to do something; would never just walk up to him and say, Would you mind quitting that, bro? See, it's pretty good, and when you do something that's pretty good, it makes me nervous. Because, you see, I'm the one that's supposed to be pretty good at stuff around here. Me. Henry Dean. So what I think I'll do, brother o' mine, is just sort of rag on you about certain things. I won't come right out and say 'Don't do that, it's makin me nervous,' because that might make me sound, you know, a little fucked up in the head. But I can rag on you, because that's part of what big brothers do, right? All part of the image. I'll rag on you and tease you and make fun of you until you just . . . fucking . . . QUIT IT! Okay?
Well, it wasn't okay, not really, but in the Dean household, things usually went the way Henry wanted them to go. And until very recently, that had seemed right – not okay but right. ~ Stephen King

See you at breakfast?"
"Yeah.See ya." I try to say this casually,but I'm so thrilled that I skip from her room and promptly slam into a wall.
Whoops.Not a wall.A boy.
"Oof." He staggers backward.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry,I didn't know you were there."
He shakes his head,a little dazed. The first thing I notice is his hair-it's the first thing I notice about everyone. It's dark brown and messy and somehow both long and short at the same time. I think of the Beatles,since I've just seen them in Meredith's room. It's artist hair.Musician hair. I-pretend-I-don't-care-but-I-really-do-hair.
Beautiful hair.
"It's okay,I didn't see you either. Are you all right,then?"
Oh my.He's English.
"Er.Does Mer live here?"
Seriously,I don't know any American girl who can resist an English accent.
The boy clears his throat. "Meredith Chevalier? Tall girl? Big,curly hair?" Then he looks at me like I'm crazy or half deaf,like my Nanna Oliphant. Nanna just smiles and shakes her head whenever I ask, "What kind of salad dressing would you like?" or "Where did you put Granddad's false teeth?"
"I'm sorry." He takes the smallest step away from me. "You were going to bed."
"Yes! Meredith lives there.I've just spent two hours with her." I announce this proudly like my brother, Seany, whenever he finds something disgusting in the yard. "I'm Anna! I'm new here!" Oh God. What.Is with.The scary enthusiasm? My cheeks catch fire, and it's all so humil ~ Stephanie Perkins

How could I not love him, after that? That is not to say that I approved of all he did, or much enjoyed the company of the man that he became ... but every little girl needs a big brother to protect her. Tywin was big even when he was little." She gave a sigh. "Who will protect us now?"
Jaime kissed her cheek. "He left a son."
"Aye, he did. That is what I fear the most, in truth."
That was a queer remark. "Why should you fear?"
"Jaime," she said, tugging on his ear, "sweetling, I have known you since you were a babe at Joanna's breast. You smile like Gerion and fight like Tyg, and there's some of Kevan in you, else you would not wear that cloak ... but Tyrion is Tywin's son, not you. I said so once to your father's face, and he would not speak to me for half a year. Men are such thundering great fools. Even the sort who come along once in a thousand years. ~ George R R Martin

I'd clash with my dad over other things, you know, like difference of opinion and me getting testosterone, you know what I'm saying? Me feeling like I'm a little tough, being a teenager. But my big brother would come in drunk and really, really try my dad and I didn't want to do that. ~ Ryan Montgomery

He was convinced this was a bribe, a kickback, to some Pentagon big shot, and he wanted proof. But that was a tall order, even to someone as brilliant as your brother. It's a little like understanding algebraic combinatorics if you still don't get long division. ~ Joseph Finder

Every year before a big competition, I get hurt doing stuff I should not be doing. One year it was my little brother's 12th birthday. We all played hide-and-seek late at night. I climbed up a 30-foot tree, thinking he'd never catch me. I tripped and fell on one of the branches and I hit my head. ~ Ryan Lochte

And, of course, you assume it's true. I mean, why else would I show interest in my own flesh and blood? A heartbroken little crybaby points his finger at me, and my own brother falls in line, eager to believe it! How quickly you believe the worst, especially when it comes from her. "
My big brother, so, you doubt my intentions? Well, I can't say I'm surprised, standing next to the noble Elijah, how can I be anything but the lesser brother? A liar, a manipulator, a bastard. "
hat's all I am to you, isn't it? And Rebekah. And, judging by the way Hayley hangs on your every word, it's clear she feels the same way! No doubt my child will as well. "
You've said all that needs to be said, Brother... I'll play the role I've been given. ~ Klaus Mikaelson

Some people owe everything they have to the bank accounts of their parents. I owe the state. Put simply, the state educated me, fixed my leg when it was broken, and gave me a grant that enabled me to go to university. It fixed my teeth (a bit) and found housing for my veteran father in his dotage. When my youngest brother was run over by a truck it saved his life and in particular his crushed right hand, a procedure that took half a year, and which would, on the open market - so a doctor told me at the time - have cost a million pounds. Those were the big things, but there were also plenty of little ones: my subsidized sports centre and my doctor's office, my school music lessons paid for with pennies, my university fees. My NHS glasses aged 9. My NHS baby aged 33. And my local library. To steal another writer's title: England made me. It has never been hard for me to pay my taxes because I understand it to be the repaying of a large, in fact, an almost incalculable, debt.

....The charming tale of benign state intervention described above is now relegated to the land of fairy tales: not just naïve but actually fantastic. Having one's own history so suddenly and abruptly made unreal is an experience of a whole generation of British people, who must now wander around like so many ancient mariners boring foreigners about how they went to university for free and could once find a National Health dentist on their high street. ~ Zadie Smith

What happened?" Dallas asked immediately, his hand reaching out toward Louie. I didn't miss how Lou took his hand instantly.

"She called me a brat," Louie blurted out, his other little hand coming up to meet with the one already clutching our neighbor's.

I blinked and told myself I was not going to look at Christy until I had the full story.

"Why?" Dallas was the one who asked.

"He spilled some of his hot chocolate on her purse," it was Josh who explained. "He said sorry, but she called him a brat. I told her not to talk to my brother like that, and she told me I should have learned to respect my elders."

For the second time around this woman, I went to ten. Straight through ten, past Go, and collected two hundred dollars.

"I tried to wipe it up," Louie offered, those big blue eyes going back and forth between Dallas and me for support.

"You should teach these boys to watch where they're going," Christy piped up, taking a step back.

Be an adult. Be a role model, I tried telling myself. "It was an accident," I choked out. "He said he was sorry… and your purse is leather and black, and it'll be fine," I managed to grind out like this whole thirty-second conversation was jabbing me in the kidneys with sharp knives.

"I'd like an apology," the woman, who had gotten me suspended and made me cry, added quickly.

I stared at her long face. "For what?"

"From Josh, fo ~ Mariana Zapata

What is this, The Packing Games? Four men versus four women, the first team to pack their side of the truck with boxes survives?" Alec asked, his tone teasing.

Bronagh laughed and devilishly smirked. "That's exactly what this will be, big brother."

All four brothers stared at Bronagh then looked to me. I grinned and they looked to one another and swallowed. The lads were nervous because they didn't know what we were up to. ~ L.A. Casey

Morfyd's care.
As she walked out of the cave she passed Annwyl walking in. The girl had her swords in one hand. The other hand held her ripped shirt and bindings over her ample breasts. Her brows angled down into a dark frown and she wouldn't even look at Morfyd as she passed.
"How did that talk go then?" Morfyd called over her shoulder.
"Shut. Up."
Morfyd laughed as she advanced into the glen toward the clearing where she could take off. She rounded a corner and came upon her brother, his chainmail shirt and sword in his big hand, heading toward the hidden entrance of his cave. She watched him as he passed and she noticed the long scratches across his back.
"How did that talk go then?" Morfyd called over her shoulder.
"Shut. Up."
Morfyd shook her head. If love always made you this pathetic, she wanted nothing to do with it. ~ G.A. Aiken

Tohrment spoke. "Bella's brother called. He's tabled the sehelusion request and asked that she stay here for a couple of days."

Z jacked his head up. "Why?"

"He didn't give a reason-" Tohr's eye's narrowed on Z's face. "Oh... my God."

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

Phury pointed to the antique mirror hanging on the wall next to the double doors. "See for yourself."

Zsadist marched across the room, ready to give them all hell. Bella was what mattered-

His mouth went lax at his reflection. With a shaky hand he reached out to the eyes in the old-fashioned leaded glass. His irises were no longer black. They were yellow. Just like his twin's.

"Phury?" he said softly. "Phury... what happened to me?"

As the male came up behind him, his brother's face appeared right beside Z's. And then Wrath's dark reflection showed up in the mirror, all long hair and sunglasses. Then Rhage's star-fallen beauty. And Vishous's Sox cap. And Tohrment's brush cut. And Butch's busted nose.

One by one they reached out and touched him, their big hands gently on his shoulders.

"Welcome back, my brother," Phury whispered.

Zsadist stared at the males who were behind him. And the oddest thought that if he were to let himself go limp and fall backward... they would catch him. ~ J.R. Ward

An older brother is older. A big brother looks out for you and smiles when you walk into a room. ~ Lynda Mullaly Hunt

The wedding ended, hurriedly, on a surge of masculine bonhomie and relief. Five minutes later, followed by the red-eyed glares of their womenfolk, Buccleuch and his friends and his new-married son had plunged off to join Lord Culter, head of the Crawfords, and Francis Crawford his brother, to fight the English once more. * Sentimentally, Will Scott thought, it made his wedding-day perfect. Cantering, easy and big-limbed, through the bracken of Ettrick-side, with leaves stuck, lime-green and scarlet on his wet sleeves, blue eyes narrowed and fair, red-blooded Scott face misted with rain, he was borne on a vast, angry joy. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

I've said no to 'Celebrity Big Brother,' 'Strictly,' and the American one, 'Dancing With The Stars.' I don't feel it's right for me. I've been asked to do reality TV a zillion times. No way. No way. Nobody's going to get into my living room and see me there. ~ Joan Collins

Niren had not seen her properly before. She had very lovely eyes. He had not before seen such a beautiful expression in any one's eyes, except perhaps those of her brother Opu. They were big and sleepy. They had the same drowsy quality which was hidden in the deep fresh greenness of the mango and bokul trees that lined the paths in the village. The dawn that would quicken them had not yet come; and the heavy sleep that precedes waking still brooded over them. Yes, it was dawn they made him think of; dawn, when sleeping eyes first open, dawn when maidens walk down to the river's edge, and every window gives forth the odour of incense; dawn, that cool ambrosial hour when the waters of awakening flow cool and fresh through house after house. ~ Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay

The NBA is a big family, and I think of all these rookies as my brothers. I still believe I am blue collar among the All-Stars. ~ Yao Ming

Big Brother has no interest in well-informed citizens capable of critical thinking. Big Brother wants you to shop at Wal-Mart, where He will control the media that influences your life. The media works with the government and with the large corporations to form mass culture, which is utilized to create public consent, and most folks aren't even aware of this process as it goes on all around them. Big Brother is actively seeking the complacency of the wage-slaves. Big Brother doesn't want you to know about the spoken word performances given by Henry Rollins, or Jello Biafra or Terrence McKenna- or a thousand other people- because they will crack your laminate of societal posturing. Big Brother doesn't want you to know about Bill Hicks, because Brother Bill will provide you with the courage and impetus to spit in Big Brother's face. The internet is but one facet of our mass-marketed popular culture, and everyone is plugged into it. If you're reading this, you are a part of it, the internet, one large hive mind, a singular consciousness. And that can be a good thing, but too often, people let themselves slip into it, into this world, to the point where they are no longer able to differentiate between what they think, what they know, and what is thrust upon them. They have no access to their own point of view, or their own spiritual consciousness, for lack of a better way to phrase it. So, to answer your question, in a lengthy and circuitous fashion, I would say that disgust with ~ Larry Mitchell

Ivan and Misha is the great American Russian Novel told as Chekhov would tell it, in stories of delicacy, humanity, and insight. From Kiev to Manhattan, Brighton Beach and Bellevue, Michael Alenyikov lays out a series of compelling arguments for brotherhood between brothers, between lovers, between men from an old country. Alenyikov confronts big subjects - illness and madness, sex and love in the age of AIDS, old and new world values, a fallen wall, the metaphysics of survival, the march of generations. ~ Carolyn Cooke

I remember how I would eye with envy all the kids in our neighborhood, in my school, who had a little brother or sister. How bewildered I was by the way some of them treated each other, oblivious to their own good luck. They acted like wild dogs. Pinching, hitting, pushing, betraying one another any way they could think of. Laughing about it too. They wouldn't speak to one another. I didn't understand. Me, I spent most of my early years craving a sibling. What I really wished I had was a twin, someone who'd cried next to me in the crib, slept beside me, fed from Mother's breast with me. Someone to love helplessly and totally, and in whose face I could always find myself. ~ Khaled Hosseini

I always thought I was a little shy, especially compared to my brother and my sister, but I guess I was always the kid doing performances in the front room. ~ Linda Cardellini

He was always worrying about me – even when we were kids. If I scraped my knee or fell off my bike, he was the first one to help me up and make sure Mom got a Band-Aid."
"I remember." I smile. "He was the quintessential big brother."
"He was. But that's just it – he's not here to protect me anymore, Anna. And you don't have to be, either. I know I let stuff get crazy. I didn't mean to be like that – it just kind of happened. You couldn't have changed that. I – it was something I had to go through myself."
My throat tightens. "I felt like I let him down," I say. "All that stuff with smoking and Johan and Jake – I didn't take care of you. I couldn't even keep that one simple promise."
"Anna, my brother died. There's no way you could protect me from that. It's up to me, now. I let him down. I let me down. ~ Sarah Ockler

Carter stood straight. I could see the doubt and fear in him, but possibly that was just because I knew him. I'd spoken his secret name. On the outside, he looked confident, strong, adult - even kingly. [Yes, I said that. Don't get a big head, brother dear. You're still a huge dork.] ~ Rick Riordan

We have to find a way to push them together," Minerva said. "You know perfectly well that if Oliver marries, Gran will forget this ridiculous idea of hers about the rest of us marrying. She just wants him to produce an heir"
Hetty's eyebrows shot high. Her granddaughter had a big surprise coming down the road.
"And you're willing to throw him under the wheels of the coach to save yourself, is that it?" Jarret quipped.
"No!" Her voice softened. "You and I both know he needs someone to drag him out of himself. Or he's just going to get scarier as he gets older." She paused. "Did you tell him about Miss Butterfield's being an heiress?"
That certainly arrested Hetty's attention. She hadn't dreamed that the girl had money.
"Yes, but I fear that might have been a mistake-when I suggested that he marry her for her fortune, he got angry."
Of course he got angry, you fool, Hetty thought with a roll of her eyes. Honestly, did her grandson know nothing about his brother?
"For goodness sake, Jarret, you weren't supposed to suggest that. You were supposed to get him concerned that she might fall prey to fortune hunters."
At least Minerva had a brain.
"Damn," Jarret said. "Then I probably shouldn't have exaggerated the amount."
"Oh, Lord." Minerva sighed. "By how much?"
"I kind of…tripled it."
Minerva released an unladylike oath. "Why did you do that? Now he won't go near her. Haven't you noticed how much he hates talk of marrying ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Given the incredible power that new technologies give both governments and terrorists we need a strong American Civil Liberties Union and a strong National Security Agency. In a cyberage, you should want an A.C.L.U. watching the watchers. But you should also want an N.S.A. watching the superempowered, cyberempowered angry people. Civil liberties absolutists may think the 9/11 era is over, but do the jihadist fanatics who use Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp as their command and control system? We need to worry about Big Terrorist and Big Criminal as much as Big Brother if we want to prevent another 9/11. ~ Anonymous

I've had enough
I'm sick of seeing and touching
Both sides of things
Sick of being the damn bridge for everybody

Nobody
Can talk to anybody
Without me
Right?

I explain my mother to my father
my father to my little sister
My little sister to my brother
my brother to the white feminists
The white feminists to the Black church folks
the Black church folks to the ex-hippies
the ex-hippies to the Black separatists
the Black separatists to the artists
the artists to my friends' parents…

Then
I've got to explain myself
To everybody

I do more translating
Than the Gawdamn U.N.

Forget it
I'm sick of it.

I'm sick of filling in your gaps

Sick of being your insurance against
the isolation of your self-imposed limitations

Sick of being the crazy at your holiday dinners

Sick of being the odd one at your Sunday Brunches

Sick of being the sole Black friend to 34 individual white people

Find another connection to the rest of the world
Find something else to make you legitimate
Find some other way to be political and hip

I will not be the bridge to your womanhood
Your manhood
Your humanness

I'm sick of reminding you not to
Close off too tight for too long

I'm sick of mediati ~ Kate Rushin

Kill me, little sister. Kill me and you kill Jace, too. ~ Cassandra Clare