Camelia Quotes

Sounds like you've got it all planned out."
"Honey, I've got more plans than Wes has ugly shoes."
"And that's a lot." I laugh.
"It sure is," she says with a sigh. ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

Well honey, You know that I don't like goodbyes. What I am trying to whisper you right now, it sounds like GOODBYE but it tastes like WELCOME to our rendezvous ~ Camelia C.

Better wash up," mom says. "We'll be eating in a few minutes."
I glance toward her mixing bowl, in which she's blending something resembling Cat Chow.
Dad grimaces at the sight of it. "What do you say, Camelia?" he says. "Maybe after dinner and I can head over to Flick-tastic to rent a couple videos?"
Translation: Let's save ourselves from this swill by hitting the drive-through of Taco Bell. ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

Ben stands just behind me, and we begin to wedge out a fresh piece of clay. I try my best to concentrate, to ignore the fact that my heart is beating at five times its normal speed. I watch his arms as he kneads the clay - almost a little too hard - and as the muscles in his forearms flex. "That's good," I say, in an effort to stay focused. I dip a sponge into a bowl of water and squeeze the droplets down over his hands to keep things moist.
After several minutes, Ben lets me take the lead. I place my palms over the clay mound and close my eyes. Meanwhile, Ben's chest grazes my shoulders, and his clay-soaked fingers stroke the length of my arms.
"You're doing great," he whispers in my ear.
We continue to sculpt for another hour, working the mound down into a flattened surface - until we have a total of four tiles.
And until I can no longer hold myself back.
I turn around to face him.
"Camelia?" He squints slightly.
I bite my lip, wishing that he could read my mind, and that he would kiss me until my lips ache. "What are you thinking?" I ask, slipping my hand inside the waistband of his jeans and pulling him closer. ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

The people of Abadan defended the city with empty hands, and our sons and brothers fell to the ground like flowers in the fall. My friend, believe me, today the date palms are broken. Tell me, when will our youth, our date palms, be green again? ~ Camelia Entekhabifard

You know what's really freaky? Wes segues. "The fact that the psycho in question was the same guy who was after Debbie Marcus."
The whole fiasco with Debbie Marcus had happened at around the same time that I was getting stalked. But instead of taking her seriously, people chalked her stories up to pranks and practical jokes, concluding that Debbie had gotten paranoid as a result.
But there was obviously a lot more to it.
"Actually, its not nearly as freaky as the fact that Camelia decided to go to the psycho's house without even calling us first," Kimmie says.
"I already told you guys, I didn't have my phone."
"And you've obviously never heard of a collect call," Wes says.
"Nor have you heard of nine-one-one." Kimmie's barbell-pierced eyebrow rises high. "Because I hear that's free as well. ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

I wonder, did that yellow flower really wink at me then bashfully lower her head? ~ Camelia Lica

I hope you don't mind that we're crashing," Wes says. "I'm trying to escape a hunting expedition. No joke. Dad thinks I'll be more of a man if I can blow a rabbit's head off. And my response? 'Sorry, Dad, but as tempting as it is to obliterate Peter Cottontail first thing on a Sunday morning, I promised Camelia I'd swing by her house, because she's been begging to abuse my body for weeks.'"
"And speaking of being delusional," Kimmie segues, "did I mention that my plan to reunite my parents was totally dumb?" She leads us into my bedroom and then closes the door behind her. "They could smell the setup before their water glasses were even filled."
"How's that?" I ask, taking a seat on my bed.
"The violinist I arranged to serenade them at the table might have been a tip-off," she begins. "Either that, or the wrist corsage I ordered for my mom. I handpicked the begonias and had the florist deliver it right to the table."
"Don't forget about the oyster appetizer you preordered for the occasion," Wes adds.
"Because, you know what they say about oysters, right?" An evil grin breaks out across her face. 'I know, I know." She sighs, before I can even say anything. "I may have gone a little overboard, but what can I say? I'm a dorkus extremus. Hence my outit du jour." She's wearing a Catholic schoolgirl's uniform, a pair of clunky black glasses (with the requisite amount of tape on the bridge), and a cone-shaped dunce cap.
"Yes, but you're a dorkus extremu ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz