Dresser Quotes

Misfortune and Fortune are eerily similar, but Fortune is a better dresser and more fun at parties. ~ Janette Rallison

You know you've got my support", Reid told him. "Whatever difficult decisions you need to make. All I would ask is that you be alert to ... " For a moment he seemed at a loss.
"To what?" Louis said impatiently.
Reid picked up a votive candle from the dresser top and observed its flickering light. "The shimmer of things," he said. "The spirit and not the letter. ~ Paul Russell

She dropped the things she was holding and desperately grabbed onto the table for support, but not before she hit the dresser directly with her stomach. The collision was hard. She expected pain. She expected to scream out. She expected to curdle up on the floor and whimper in agony.

But she didn't.

She gasped when she saw that due to the impact, the dresser had a minuscule dent. She didn't even feel the hit. ~ Deepika Kumaaraguru

If I only had one eye, I'd look at my other eyeball with my good eye. It would be in a jar on the dresser, of course, right next to my detachable penis. ~ Jarod Kintz

The least dignified thing that can happen to a man is to be murdered. If he dies in his sleep he gets a respectful obituary and perhaps a smiling portrait; it is how we all want to be remembered. But murder is the great exposer: here is the victim in his torn underwear, face down on the floor, unpaid bills on his dresser, a meager shopping list, some loose change, and worst of all the fact that he is alone. Investigation reveals what he did that day - it all matters - his habits are examined, his behavior scrutinized, his trunks rifled, and a balance sheet is drawn up at the hospital giving the contents of his stomach. Dying, the last private act we perform, is made public: the murder victim has no secrets. ~ Paul Theroux

Watch now," Handful told her. "This rabbit goes under the log, and this rabbit goes over the log. You make them hop like that all the way down. See, that's how you make a plait - hop over, hop under." Nina took possession of the rabbits and the log and created a remarkably passable braid. Handful and I oohed and ahhed as if she'd carved a Florentine statue. It was a winter evening like so many others that passed in quiet predictability: the room flushed with lamplight, a fire nesting on the grate, an early dark flattening against the windows, while my two companions fussed over me at the dresser. ~ Sue Monk Kidd

Tiny little bloke, my dad was. By the time I was six I could lift him up an' put him on top o' the dresser if he annoyed me. Used ter make him laugh ... ~ J.K. Rowling

I'm not someone that wants to control everything. I like to work with people that bring their talents to the project. So I like it when the makeup artist has a chance to do their work, when the dresser does their work, when the director does their work. They all come with stories and ideas to think about. ~ Monica Bellucci

I believe we need more culturally diverse books - about disabled characters, though not about their disability, about people with different sexual orientations, or a boy who is a cross-dresser. We need to reflect the diversity of our society. ~ Malorie Blackman

He got the crib, so for the first few months of my life I had to sleep in the top dresser drawer, which I'm pretty sure isn't even legal. ~ Jeff Kinney

One of the best things about reconnecting with Annika is how natural it feels to be with her. Standing on the sidewalk, I wonder if she remembers how it felt to be in love with me.
I haven't forgotten how it felt to be in love with her.
As soon as we're settled in the back of the cab, she snuggles up next to me. Her body relaxes until I can feel her melting into me. She goes limp and falls asleep with her head on my chest. I don't mind at all, and I hold her until we get home. With my arms around her, she feels like mine again.
It's only when we're inside her department that I realize the evening- and the performance required of her to endure it- has taken everything she had and there's simply nothing left.
She's done.
She walks into the bedroom, and I follow. She pulls a T-shirt out of a dresser drawer and turns her back to me, not because she's upset that I followed, but so that I can unzip her dress. I oblige, and as soon as I've lowered it, the dress hits the floor. Her bra and underwear follow, which tells me that modesty is still a completely foreign concept to her. I'm not going to ogle her like the horny college student I once was, but I appreciate the view of her naked backside just the same. She turns around and when I see the front view, maybe I ogle just a little.
I mean, I'm human. ~ Tracey Garvis Graves

Oscar, we're alive and in Melbourne and that's all that matters."
The door clicked shut behind him. He placed the bowl on the dresser and dropped the spoon into the soup. "We're alive, in Melbourne, and living in a whorehouse. ~ Angie Frazier

If you don't have a bed, or a dresser or a wall, or a book or a toy you are oppressed. An African American in a white world. A Jew in a Christian world. A gypsy. A Native American. A Chinese American. Let's say, you were born deprived. ~ Gerald Stern

Female spies typically represented one of two extremes: the seductress who employed her wiles to manipulate men, and the cross-dresser who blended in by impersonating them. ~ Karen Abbott

A hot shower, and a little food might help how he felt. But he doubted anything could take away the vision he kept having of Day flying over the bed and slamming into his dresser. God squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck. I'm so sorry, sweetheart.

Too much happened in that room at one time. God wasn't seeing straight. Genesis was beating the hell out of him. Day had violated his trust. His hood neighbors had barged into his home and choked his baby brother. God had so much medication coursing through him, he'd reacted without thinking.

Now he wanted to call Day so badly, but he needed to let things cool off between them. Then he'd have to figure out how he was going to make it up to him. ~ A.E. Via

Why do you wear those?" asked Lacuna.
I jumped, stumbled, and shouted half of a word to a spell, but since I was only halfway done putting on my underwear, I mostly just fell on my naked ass.' "Gah!" I said. "Don't do that!"
My miniature captive came to the edge of the dresser and peered down at me. "Don't ask questions?" "Don't come in here all quiet and spooky and scare me like that!"
"You're six times my height, and fifty times my weight," Lacuna said gravely. "And I've agreed to be your captive. You don't have any reason to be afraid."
"Not afraid," I snapped back. "Startled. It isn't wise to startle a wizard!"
"Why not?"
"Because of what could happen!"
"Because they might fall down on the floor?"
"No!" I snarled.Lacuna frowned and said, "You aren't very good at answering questions." I started shoving myself into my clothes. "I'm starting to agree with you. ~ Jim Butcher

His last name was Morris, but I called him Mars, because it's like he was from another planet, like Venus. He was a cross dresser. ~ Jarod Kintz

Do your best every day and your life will gradually expand into satisfying fullness. ~ Horatio Dresser

Gradually, the darkness sculpted itself into air and object, the appointments of her room materializing as smoky shapes: a skyline of perfume bottles on her dresser... ~ Monica Wood

Somehow you always stayed quiet." He laid his hands beside each of mine, so that if he'd been solid, I would've been pinned between his body and the dresser. "Remember? ~ Jeri Smith-Ready

She visited a nursing home nearby. 'It was actually one of the nicer ones,' she said. 'It was clean.' But it was a nursing home. 'You had the people in their wheelchairs all slumped over and lined up in the corridors. It was horrible.' It was the sort of place, she said, that her father feared more than anything. 'He did not want his life reduced to a bed, a dresser, a tiny TV, and half of a room with the curtain between him and someone else.'
But, she said, as she walked out of the place she thought, 'This is what I have to do.' Awful as it seemed, it was where she had to put him.
Why, I asked? ~ Atul Gawande

The ideal day never comes.
Today is ideal for him who makes it so. ~ Horatio Dresser

Polly Jefferson rolled off her left arm, which had gone numb from the full weight of her body for the previous several hours that she had been asleep. She tapped her fingers on her leg, feeling the pins and needles, and looked at the clock, which blinked 6:30 in lurid red LCD. Instinctively she craned her head towards the other side of the bed, but she knew already what she would find there. The sheets were rumpled but empty and cold, and her husband's briefcase, which had been leaning against the dresser the night before, was gone. He had already left for London. ~ C.A. Gray

I was coming down off the last painkiller left in my dresser drawer after Autumn tossed my stash. In that moment I was so groggy and happy I would have accepted a date with Oscar the Grouch - and planned to do some serious feeling up on the green furry beast too. Yeah, stooping to pharmaceutical-inspired sex fantasies about garbage can Sesame Street characters - that had to be the best Just Say No drug lecture a girl in a leg cast could ever receive to make her go cold turkey off the meds. ~ Rachel Cohn

Publicly I'm a very modest dresser, by Hollywood's standards. ~ Mayim Bialik

I never expected to feel this way about someone." She stared at me, eyes wide nad lips parted as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. I stood and ran over to the dresser, pulling the box from the drawer and carrying it over to her. When I opened the box and let her see my grandmother's antique diamond and sapphire ring, she clammed a hand over her mouth. "I want to be married," I said again. Her silence was unnerving, and fuck, I'd completely botched this with my rambling nonsense. "Married to you, I mean." Her eyes filled with tears and she held them, unblinking. "You.Are such.An ass. ~ Christina Lauren

I had a dresser who literally squeezed me in like Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With The Wind. ~ Glenn Close

But she didn't come toward the door. Her footsteps sounded like she went to the dresser, then back to the bed. "Get your damned ~ Peggy Poe Stern

You have to learn which pose works best to enhance your bodies in your lingerie." My blank expression only pissed her off further. "It adds to the seduction process!" Taran sighed when the rest of us exchanged what-the-hell glances."Watch and learn." She folded her arms and leaned over her dresser. Emme jumped when Taran threw out her butt like some sort of weapon. ~ Cecy Robson

Did Mama leave you all alone in here?"

I picked her up out of bed and rubbed her back for a minute while she hiccuped.

"Daddy's here," I murmured against her bald head, rocking her from side to side. "Let's get that wet diaper off you."

I laid her on the bed and grabbed a diaper from the top of Kate's dresser, talking the whole time. "I don't know what your mommy was thinking, leaving my princess in here all alone," I crooned, my voice somehow keeping Iris calm. "She's outside with your brothers and sister and Daddy's friend Miles. He's a jackass. You stay away from him, okay?"

I smiled as Iris froze, like she was listening intently.

"Daddy was not very nice," I said, pulling her little pants down her legs and unbuttoning her onesie. "I wasn't even there when you were born, and I'm really sorry about that. But your mama came home with me anyway, so that means there's a chance, right? As long as Miles keeps his you-know-what in this pants."

Iris lifted her hand to her face and tried really hard to get it to her mouth, her eyes unfocused as I babbled.

"You're doing so good, princess. Look at you, not even crying while I change you. Such a big girl." I finished re-dressing her and pulled her to my chest. "You think your mama could love me again?" I asked, kissing her little cheek. "Probably not, huh? We'll just have to keep working at it so you can live with Daddy forever. ~ Nicole Jacquelyn

I'm guessing you don't have to share a bathroom at your house,"

I say with the casual tone of someone who isn't waving her half-naked

bottom in the air in front of a hunky, semi-stranger and soon-to-be-

boss. I push myself to my feet and edge my way back to the dresser, this

time keeping my back to the wall.

He snorts a laugh. "No. Nor do I have a back door in my bedroom

or a collection of random people walking around my house. ~ Sarah Castille

Dressed in a black pair of men's boxer shorts rolled over at the waist so they didn't sag down her legs and a white men's undershirt she must have found in one of the dresser drawers, with her choppy blue hair sticking up in every direction and her wild, glittering eyes, she looked like an insane, cross-dressing pixie. ~ J.T. Geissinger

Captivating to men, Anne was also sharp, assertive, subtle, calculating, vindictive, a power dresser and a power player, perhaps a figure to be more admired than liked. ~ Eric Ives

You could knock," Trey said. Brian paused in the bedroom's doorway holding his towel around his waist. Standing before the long dresser, Trey wrapped his arms around the thin young man in front of him and plastered his body to the guy's back. Trey's hand slid up under the hem of his new friend's T-shirt. The guy's eyes widened and he caught Trey's hands in his. "H-hey, Master Sinclair, erm, Brian. Can I call you Brian?" Brian shrugged and the guy flushed. "This isn't what it looks like. I don't like guys or anything." He shook his head vigorously. "You will," Trey murmured, inching the guy's shirt further up his belly. "Trey, are you molesting virgins again?" Brian grinned at his best friend's delight with his latest conquest. ~ Olivia Cunning

How's your scratch, Henri?" I asked.
He snorted and leaned against the dresser. "You mean the shotgun blast in my side? It's wonderful. I have about eighty pellet-size scars to show for it."
"Dude," Dub said, plopping down in one of the chairs, "Who gets shot with their own gun? Embarrassing, if you ask me."
Henri gave Dub's chair a hard shove with his foot. Dub laughed, and Henri rolled his eyes. ~ Kelly Keaton

Lucien had taught him that fear was good; fear was an ally; that every lawyer was afraid when he stood before a new jury and presented his case. It was okay to be afraid - just don't show it. Jurors would not follow the lawyer with the quickest tongue or prettiest words. They would not follow the sharpest dresser. They would not follow a clown or court jester. They would not follow a lawyer who preached the loudest or fought the hardest. Lucien had convinced him that jurors followed the lawyer who told the truth, regardless of his looks, words, or superficial abilities. A lawyer had to be himself in the courtroom, and if he was afraid, so be it. The jurors were afraid too. ~ John Grisham

I found something" Simon said as he walked in. He whipped out an old-fashioned key from his pocket and grinned at me. "It was taped to the back of my dresser drawer. What do you think? Buried treasure? Secret passageway? Locked room where they keep crazy old Aunt Edna?"
"It probaly unlocks another dresser," Tori said. "One they threw out fifty years ago."
"Its tragic, being born without an imagination. Do they hold telethons for that? ~ Kelley Armstrong

I have a scar on my forehead. I was three years old, jumping on the bed with my brothers, and I fell off and hit my head on the dresser and cut it open, went to the hospital, got stitches, came home, went back on the bed, jumped with my brothers, fell again, and reopened the stitches. ~ Jamie-Lynn Sigler

Although Daisy was the mildest-tempered of all the Bowmans, she was by no means a coward. And she would not accept defeat without a fight.
"You're forcing me to take desperate measures," she said.
His reply was very soft. "There's nothing you can do."
He had left her no choice.
Daisy turned the key in the lock and carefully withdrew it.
The decisive click was abnormally loud in the silence of the room.
Calmly Daisy tugged the top edge of her bodice away from her chest. She held the key above the narrow gap.
Matthew's eyes widened as he understood what she intended. "You wouldn't."
As he started around the dresser, Daisy dropped the key into her bodice, making certain it slipped beneath her corset. She sucked in her stomach and midriff until she felt the cold metal slide to her navel.
"Damn it!" Matthew reached her with startling speed. He reached out to touch her, then jerked his hands back as if he had just encountered open flame. "Take it out," he commanded, his face dark with outrage.
"I can't."
"I mean it, Daisy!"
"It's fallen too far down. I'll have to take my dress off."
It was obvious he wanted to kill her. But she could also feel the force of his longing. His lungs were working like bellows, and scorching heat radiated from his body.
His whisper contained the ferocity of a roar. "Don't do this to me."
Daisy waited patiently.
The next move was his.
He turned his back t ~ Lisa Kleypas

I always wanted a father. Any kind. A strict one, a funny one, one who bought me pink dresses, one who wished I was a boy. One who traveled, one who never got up out of his Morris chair. Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief. I wanted shaving cream in the sink and whistling on the stairs. I wanted pants hung by their cuffs from a dresser drawer. I wanted change jingling in a pocket and the sound of ice cracking in a cocktail glass at five thirty. I wanted to hear my mother laugh behind a closed door. ~ Judy Blundell

I went to my dresser, turned the lamp off, and crawled into bed. I was taking a chance but I couldn't help slipping in behind Tweet and draping my arm around her waist. She placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed it slightly. I buried my nose in her dark hair, breathing in the scent of raspberry and vanilla. This was were we belonged. ~ Alison G. Bailey

Jesus was a cross-dresser. ~ George Carlin

Selethen was names Hawk. Alyss had been given the title of Tsuru, or Crane. . .Evanlynn was Kitsune, the Nihon-Jan word for Fox . . .Halt strangly enough had been known only as Halto-san. . . But Will had been taken aback in his confrotation with Arisaka to discover that his name - Chocho - meant "butterfly". It seemed a highly unwarlike name to him- not at all glamorous.And he was puzzled to know why they had selected it. His friends,of course, were delighted in helping him guess the reason.
"I assume its because you're such a snazzy dresser," Evanlynn said. "You Rangers are like a riot of color after all."
Will glared at her and was mortified to hear Alyss snigger at the princess's sally. He'd thought Alyss, at least, might stick up for him.
"I think it might be more to do with the way he raced around the the training ground, darting here and there to correct the way a man might be holding his sheidl then dashing off to show someone how to put theri body weight into their javelin cast," said Horace, a little more sympathetically. Then he ruined the effect by adding thoughtlessly, "I must say, your cloak did flutter around like a butterfly's wings."
"It was neither of those things," Halt said finally, and they all turned to look at him. "I asked Shigeru," he explained. "He said that they had all noticed how Will's mind and imagination darts from one idea to another at such high speed," . .
Will looked mollified. "Isuppose it's not too bad it you put ~ John Flanagan

Ugh." Cole rolled his eyes, gave a small laugh. "In a move straight out of Lee's playbook, I rolled over in bed this morning and hit the dresser. Already killing it this morning. ~ Alexandra Bracken

The entire room was so yellow that it looked like the sun had thrown up on the walls and wiped its mouth afterward on the dresser and curtains.
Cole ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Hurling the box released some of his anger. It felt good so he swept his arm across the top of his dresser, knocking his pitiful possessions onto the floor, the ridiculous little carved animals, pathetic toiletries and useless old catalog he could never afford to order
from. These paltry items were the sum of his entire dismal life.
He kicked the frame of his bed, hurting his foot and knocking the light cot away
from the wall. Heedless of Rasmussen hearing the noise, he cried out his rage and frustration, tore the covers off the bed, picked up the pillow and punched it. He hurled it across the room. Dragging the thin mattress from the metal mesh of the cot, he tossed it
on the floor and looked around, but there was nothing else to tear apart since he owned so little. Laughing at the irony, he sank onto the mattress on the floor, his legs drawn to his
chest, forehead bowed to his knees, and his hands cradling the back of his neck.
Caught between harsh laughter and sobs, he breathed in hitching bursts.
He had no future, definitely no girl, and soon, no home. What the hell was he going to do? ~ Bonnie Dee

Will had been taken aback in his confrontation with Arisaka to discover that his name- Chocho- meant "Butterfly" ... He was puzzled to know why they had selected it. His friends, of course, delighted in helping him guess the reason.
'I assume it's because you're such a snazzy dresser,' Evanlyn said. 'You Rangers are a riot of color, after all.' ...
'I think it might be more to do with the way he raced around the training ground, darting here and there to correct the way a man might be holding his shield, then dashing off to show someone how to put their body weight into their javelin cast,' said Horace, a little more sympathetically. Then he ruined the effect by adding thoughtlessly, 'I must say, your cloak did flutter around like a butterfly's wings. ~ John Flanagan

Kneeling in the keeping room where she usually went to talk-think it was clear why Baby Suggs was so starved for color. There was't any except for two orange squares in a quilt that made the absence shout. The walls of the room were slate-colored, the floor earth-brown, the wooden dresser the color of itself, curtains white, and the dominating feature, the quilt over an iron cot, was made up of scraps of blue serge, black, brown and gray wool–the full range of the dark and the muted that thrift and modesty allowed. In that sober field, two patches of orange looked wild–like life in the raw. ~ Toni Morrison

Here is my room, in the yellow lamplight and the space heater rumbling: Indian rug red as Cochise's blood, a desk with seven mystic drawers, a chair covered in material as velvety blue-black as Batman's cape, an aquarium holding tiny fish so pale you could see their hearts beat, the aforementioned dresser covered with decals from Revell model airplane kits, a bed with a quilt sewn by a relative of Jefferson Davis's, a closet, and the shelves, oh, yes, the shelves. The troves of treasure. On those shelves are stacks of me: hundreds of comic books- Justice League, Flash, Green Lantern, Batman, the Spirit, Blackhawk, Sgt. Rock and Easy Company, Aquaman, and the Fantastic Four ... The shelves go on for miles and miles. My collection of marbles gleams in a mason jar. My dried cicada waits to sing again in the summer. My Duncan yo-yo that whistles except the string is broken and Dad's got to fix it. ~ Robert McCammon

I may be a lot of things, Doc. A criminal. Sure. A very good dresser. Absolutely. A man with a huge cock. Fuck, yes." His face grew serious. "But I'm no fucking liar. ~ T.M. Frazier

Pulling his weight back off of her, he nodded over his shoulder. "Show me what's in the bedroom."
Though her body leapt in expectation, she tried to play it cool. "Oh, just a dresser, a TV, a dead stuffed deer, and, oh, yeah, a bed."
"Forget the deer. Show me how the bed works. ~ Erin McCarthy

When a mother comes home with her new baby, she will find her abstractions are all concrete now. 'Freedom' now means being able to take a shower. 'Mobility' means being able to reach the glass of water on the dresser while not breaking the baby's suction on the breast. 'Flexibility' means being able to push the Record function on the VCR without dropping the baby. ~ Marni Jackson

I had a great childhood. Even though I never had my own room - I shared the porch with my grandfather and kept my belongings in one drawer of a dresser that was jammed next to the piano - I never went hungry and was always supported by my family. ~ Clint Hill

What I am thinking and doing day by day is resistlessly shaping my future - a future in which there is no expiation except through my own better conduct. No one can save. No one can live my life for me. If I am wise I shall begin today to build my own truer and better world from within. ~ Horatio Dresser

It was okay to give up. I'd been brave. Everyone would say so. And yet ... even as I opened a dresser drawer and figured out which things I would take with me in this hypothetical scenario, I remembered the problem. There would still be ghosts. I would still have a future. ~ Maureen Johnson

Terrific! Have you done Step Three?" He waggled his brows as he opened up the top left drawer of my dresser.
"No. Hey! Do you mind, Nosy Newton?"
"Are these panties?" he asked, holding up two of my thongs. "Because they look like dental floss to me."
Oh my God. My almost father-in-law was digging around in my lingerie. Embarrassment bloomed in my face. "Ruadan, get out of my underwear!"
"Fine," he said, closing the left drawer and opening the right one. "Oh! Lookie here!"
"If you touch that box," I said menacingly, "I will cut off your head with your own swords. And I'm not talking about the one on your shoulders."
He laughed, shutting the drawer. "You won't need a vibrator anymore. You've got Patrick." His gaze slid toward the dresser. "Unless you have different toys in there. Nipple clamps?"
"I ... what ... oh God." I fell onto the bed, curled into the fetal position, and covered my face. ~ Michele Bardsley

Tucker took off his cowboy hat and laid it on top of the dresser and then crossed the room to close the curtains. The big question of the night was answered - he did take off his hat for sex. ~ Cat Johnson

For a moment, I saw that set of paints Elain had once bought me with the extra money she'd saved. The red, yellow, and blue I'd savored, used to paint that dresser in our cottage. I had not painted in years at that point, had not dared spend the money on myself...But Elain had. ~ Sarah J. Maas

God was still smiling when he went into the guest room for his suitcase. He looked in the closet and under the perfectly made bed. He even pulled out the drawers of the one armoire on the far side of the room, but couldn't find it. He was about to go back downstairs and ask Day when he turned down the long hall and walked into Day's master bedroom. His suitcase was tucked neatly in the corner. He pulled it out but immediately knew it was empty. He looked in the first dresser but those were Day's clothes. The second identical dresser was on the other side and God did a double take at his few toiletries that were neatly aligned on top. God rubbed his hand on the smooth surface and felt his heart clench at how domestic this looked.

His and his dressers…really.

God yanked off his T-shirt and threw it in the hamper along with Day's items. He washed up quickly and went back to his dresser to put on a clean shirt. His mouth dropped when he pulled out the dresser drawer. His shirts were neatly folded and placed in an organized arrangement. God went through all five drawers. His underwear, socks, shirts, sweats, all arranged neatly and in its own place.
He dropped down on the bed and thought for a minute. At first he was joking, but Day really was domesticating him. Was God ready for that? Sure he loved Day, he'd take a bullet for him, but was he ready to play house? He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger at the slight tension for ~ A.E. Via

At the same time that middle- and upper-middle-class mothers were urged to pipe Mozart into their wombs when they're pregnant so their kids would come out perfectly tuned, the government told poor mothers to get the hell out of the house and get to work--no more children's aid for them. Mothers like us--with health care, laptops, and Cuisinarts--are supposed to replicate the immaculate bedrooms we see in Pottery Barn Kids catalogs, with their designer sheets and quilts, one toy and one stuffed animal atop a gleaming white dresser, and a white rug on the floor that has never been exposed to the shavings from hamster cages, Magic Markers accidentally dropped with their caps off, or Welche's grape juice.... we've been encouraged to turn our backs on other mothers who pick their kids' clothes out of other people's trash and sometimes can't buy a can of beans to feed them. How has it come to seem perfectly reasonable--even justified-- that one class of mother is suppoed to sew her baby's diapers out of Egyptian cotton from that portion of the Nile blessed by the god Osiris while another class of mother can't afford a single baby aspirin? ~ Susan J. Douglas

You don't have to paint your walls lime green just to try to have your home feel decorated. If you're a classic dresser or preppy dresser or a modern dresser, you wear a lot of black - whatever it is - your home should reflect that as well. ~ Nate Berkus

Vane, you okay in there?" my mom calls through my door.
I jump so hard I crash into my desk and knock off some books and video game cases.
If my mom comes in and finds a gorgeous girl in a skimpy dress passed out on my worn gray rug, I'll be grounded for the rest of eternity. Especially since all I have on at the moment are my Batman boxers. Pretty sure she won't buy my ghost-guardian angel/freak-of-nature theories either.
I stumble toward the door, prepared to barricade it with my dresser if I have to. "I'm fine, Mom," I say as I grab the first T-shirt I see off my floor and throw it on, along with my gym shorts.
"Then what's all that banging?"
Come on, Vane. Think!
Inspiration strikes. "I found a date roach in my bed."
"Did you kill it?" My mom sounds farther away, like she jumped back.
"I tried to, but now I can't find it." I don't need to worry about my mom offering to help. She's a big believer in the whole boys should kill all the bugs philosophy.
"Well, I won't distract you, then," she says, and I can't help smiling. ~ Shannon Messenger

It was late; I'd been sleeping. I woke up to the sound of him crying. The ward was dark, with only the light from the nurses' station bleeding in. 'Kid,' he said to me, and his voice… his voice was like a ghost. Like that part of him had already died and had come back for the rest. 'Kid, this is worse than Topeka.' He told me that once, in the war, he'd come upon a German soldier in the grass with his insides falling out; he was just lying there in agony. The soldier had looked up at Sergeant Leonard, and even though they didn't speak the same language, they understood each other with just a look. The German lying on the ground; the American standing over him. He put a bullet in the soldier's head. He didn't do it with anger, as an enemy, but as a fellow man, one soldier helping another. 'One soldier helping another.' That's how he put it." Again, Jericho fell quiet for a moment. "He told me what he needed me to do. Told me I didn't have to. Told me that if I did, he'd make sure God would forgive me, if that's what I was worried about. One soldier helping another."

Jericho fell quiet. Evie held so still she thought she might break.

"I found his belt in the dresser and helped him into the wheelchair. The hall was quiet on the way to the shower. I remember how clean the floor was, like a mirror. I had to make a new hole in the leather to tighten it around his neck. Even without his arms and legs, he was heavy. But I was strong. Just before, he looked at me ~ Libba Bray

I've tried to keep pleasant," Mabel went on. "You don't know how I've tried. I have that verse pinned up on my dresser, about
The man worth while is the man who can smile,
When everything goes dead wrong."
"Take it down," Mother said cheerfully. "If there's a verse in the world that has been worked overtime, it's that one. I can't think of anything more inane than to smile when everything goes dead wrong, unless it is to cry when everything is passably right. That verse always seemed to me to be a surface sort of affair. Take it down and substitute 'I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help.' That goes to the heart of things
when you feel that strength, then the dead-wrong things begin to miraculously right themselves. ~ Bess Streeter Aldrich

I lean down to kiss her smiling lips, heft my bag, and shoulder into the hotel room. "Wow. Place looks just how we left it."

"Yup." Jameson pops her P with a loud smack. "Same bed, same dresser, same tiny bathroom."

"Ah yes, the tiny bathroom of sin, scene of all masturbatory emissions." My laugh fills the outdated hotel room as I walk to the dresser to set my things down. ~ Sara Ney

I looked over at the dresser and saw a new issue of Zoobooks sitting there.

On the cover was an owl. I love owls. Owls are beautiful and fierce. There was an owl right there on the front. A close-up of its face. Two big black eyes, bulbous, shiny, and empty. A brown-and-black feathered face. And its beak. I didn't see its beak. What were those two things coming out of its neck?

I stepped closer.

And in the lower corner of the cover, in white all-caps sans-serif font: "SPIDERS." I looked back into that face, brown and black fur, two big black eyes, and more eyes, and pincers. And oh god.

I screamed. I screamed and I ran. I am still screaming and running from this, only on the inside now. ~ Joseph Fink

There's a tolerance and this is a really big thing when it comes to really increasing the whole sense of getting something done and boosting the economy. Obviously not everything is going to be a bonanza, some things are going to be awful, but wouldn't it be great if we had a fantastic window dresser to do something with those windows on Fairfield green and those Victoria's Secret windows. I love girls in bras in panties, but these are just mannequins. Wouldn't it be great if some local artists got together and said, "Hey, Victoria's Secret, let's do something!" We need that. ~ Tina Weymouth

I just realized I know nothing about you. Do you have a family? Where are you from?" The idea that I just invited a relative stranger, who owns nothing, to live in my apartment gave me a stomachache, but the weird thing was that I felt like I had known him forever.

"I'm from Detroit; my entire family still lives there. My mom works in a bakery at a grocery store and my dad is a retired electrician. I have twelve brothers and sisters."

"Really? I'm an only child. I can't imagine having a huge family like that - it must have been awesome!"

Relaxing his stance, he leaned his tattooed forearm onto the dresser and crossed his feet. Jackson came over and sat next to him. Will unconsciously began petting Jackson's head. It made my heart warm. "Actually, I don't have twelve brothers and sisters. I have one brother and eleven sisters." He paused. "I'm dead serious. My brother Ray is the oldest and I'm the youngest with eleven girls in between. I swear my parents just wanted to give Ray a brother, so they kept having more babies. By the time I was born, Ray was sixteen and didn't give a shit. On top of it, they all have R names except me. It's a f**king joke."

"You're kidding? Name 'em," I demanded.

In a super-fast voice Will recited, "Raymond, Reina, Rachelle, Rae, Riley, Rianna, Reese, Regan, Remy, Regina, Ranielle, Rebecca, and then me, Will."

"Surely they could have figured out another R name?"

"Well my br ~ Renee Carlino

They moved from the drawing room to a dining room on the ground floor where they found spiders large as saucers lurking in the dresser (Ron left the room hurriedly to make a cup of tea and did not return for an hour and a half) ~ J.K. Rowling

Guns, double-crosses, hitmen ... I can get used to a lot of things, but I'm never going to get used to sleeping where apocalypse bugs mate," Wednesday said, walking into the room looking around. She dropped her Birkin on the floor and heard something scuttling behind the cheap plastic wood print veneer covered dresser. She turned to face Alvin, her head cocked to the side. "Seriously. I'm not saying five-star ... I'm saying go on Expedia and find a place that actually has stars ... any stars. ~ Dennis Sharpe

De tall, dark vun
dere's nothing special about him at all," ter Borcht said dismissively of Fang, who hadn't moved since the doctor had come in.
Well, he's a snappy dresser," I offered. One side of Fang's mouth quirked. ~ James Patterson

Scattered upon the flimsy dresser scarf were half a dozen hairpins - those discreet, indistinguishable friends of womankind, feminine of gender, infinite of mood and uncommunicative of tense. ~ O. Henry

He went to the dresser, got the camera and the last flashcube, and gave Danny a closed thumb-and-forefinger circle. Danny smiled and gave it back with his good hand. ~ Stephen King

Will laughed and shook his head. "We're married, Hanna," he said, and it sounded like he was still marveling at it, too ...
"Say, I was wondering what you were doing in this tuxedo." I wrapped his tie around my fist and tugged on it, bringing him closer. "Unless you're just a really, really snappy dresser. But then, you have this ring on your finger, too ... "
"I want to be sweet with you," he said, palm curving over my shoulder and slipping down between my breasts. There was a weight there, a pressure to his touch I could feel even through the thin layers of fabric. Despite the softness in his voice, it screamed of possession, of lust. "I feel like I should be sweet tonight. ~ Christina Lauren

When he did think - when his brain began the slow chugging of rusty gears - the only thoughts that came were unspeakable things like, what's the worst age a child can die? Worse yet was - after hours spent staring at the ceiling until it became a real-life Escher print with fans on the floor, useless windowsills, and dresser drawers that spilled underwear when opened - worse yet was when his mind found answers to those questions. Two-years-old isn't so bad, he mused. They barely had a life. Twenty? At least they got to experience life! But fourteen ... fourteen was the worst. ~ Jake Vander Ark

I was a window dresser for Burton's once. What really put me off was the area manager coming round and saying, Charles, I think you're a natch at this. ~ Charles Dance

I am sorry, I didn't mean to imply that either one of you would betray me. But dammit! I walk in to see Colton's clothes on the floor and the two of you snuggled up together." Aiden threw his hands in the air. Meryn thought about it. "Good point. Next time fold your clothes and put them on the dresser," she said, looking down at Colton. ~ Alanea Alder

He didn't see anything."
She rolled to her feet. "I was in your bed! We could have scarred him for life!"
"Grace, we weren't doing anything. Well, I wasn't. You were snoring."
"I don't
" She smoothed her dress down and searched out her sandals, shoving her feet into them. She glanced at herself in the mirror over his dresser and groaned. Hair, wild. Lips, swollen. Face, flushed.
Nipples, hard.
"Dammit!" She clapped her hands over them. "It's like they're broken! ~ Jill Shalvis

I hide your portrait
in a closet with no holes
your dress
in the dresser
I place the mirror on the bracket
upside down

remains of your hair
are dancing on the windowsill
in direction of the wind

in my room
there is always
a vacant chair ~ Ali Abdollahi

I'm a very basic dresser. I'm not interested in calling too much attention to myself. I like to look cool without being too noticeable. ~ Julianne Moore

I'm a fast and impatient dresser, so I can't dress myself up for too long. I don't even need a lot of makeup, so I'm usually ready in about half an hour. ~ Genelia D'Souza

Snap. Lady with dog. Lady on sofa half-naked. Snap. Naked lady. Lady next to dresser. Lady at window. Snap. Lady on balcony sunlight. (On New Orleans photographer E. J. Bellocq) ~ Michael Ondaatje

I had a few pricks of conscience- seeing Henry's pajama bottoms hanging forlornly from a peg in our bedroom, his comb on he dresser, a stray white hair on his pillow- but real shame and regret were absent. In their place was a riotous sense of wonder. I'd never imagined myself capable of either great boldness or great passion, and the discovery that I had reservoirs of both astounded me. ~ Hillary Jordan

Looking back, I realize my favorite stories weren't in books, they were in comics. On top of being a history enthusiast, my father was also a comics fan, and he kept his stash in the top drawer of his dresser, in easy reach of a kid making a beeline to the bathroom. ~ Jeff Kinney

I felt like I was faking all of this, like I was playing the part of a student. I had the costume and the props, but I didn't really belong here. I'd pinned notes on the stupid corkboard backing of my desk, and I'd highlighted things...But it was all so meaningless.

For about an hour, I had an overwheling urge to grab my bag, stuff in a few things, and take the next train to Bristol. I could be back on my parents' couch that night if I got moving. I could admit that I wasn't ready for this, that the semester was a wash. My parents would be thrilled, I was sure. Not about the semester being a wash--but certainly about having me back where they could keep me safe and sound. It would be so easy to do it. The very idea made me warm inside. It was okay to give up. I'd been brave. Everyone would say so.

And yet...even as I opened a dresser drawer and figured out which things I would take with me in this hypothetical scenario, i remembered the problem.

There would still be ghosts

i would still have a future.

I would still go back to school eventually. You can't curl up on the sofa and deny life forever. Life is always going to be a series of ouch-making moments, and the question was, was i going to go all fetal position, or was I going to woman up? ~ Maureen Johnson

When I'm at an event, I like to be an eccentric dresser. I will just keep wearing what I like. ~ Eva Green

The butterfly wallpaper was now gone. It had been replaced by a moody, breathless wallpaper of silver, sprinkled with tiny white dots that looked like stars. It made her feel an odd sense of anticipation, like last night. Grandpa Vance couldn't have come in last night and done this.
Did it really change on its own?
It was beautiful, this wallpaper. It made the room look like living in a cloud. She put her hand against the wall by her dresser. It was soft, like velvet. How could her mother not have told her a room like this existed? She'd never mentioned it. Not even in a bedtime story. ~ Sarah Addison Allen

Tell me, how many real motherfuckers feel me? I smoke a blunt
and freak the funk until these jealous motherfuckers kill me
I'm out the gutter, pick a hero
I'm 165 and staying high til I die, my competion's zero
Cause I could give a fuck about you, better duck
Or I'll be forced to hit yo ass up I give a fuck
I'm sick inside my mind, why you sweatin me?
It's gonna take an army full of crooked ass cops to come and get me
Niggaz know I ain't the one to sleep on, I'm under pressure
Gotta sleep with my piece, an extra clip beside my dresser
Word to God I've been ready to die since I was born
I don't want no shit but niggaz trip and yo it's on
Open fire on my adversaries, don't even worry
Better have on a vest aim for the chest and then you buried ~ 2Pac

An overweight Maine coon cat dozed in an open bedroom window, his bulk pressed against the screen so that the gentle breeze of the summer night could ruffle his long yellow fur. With a start, he went on alert. A moment later, he leapt from the windowsill to the top of the dresser and from there to the foot of the bed. He landed squarely on Liss MacCrimmon Ruskin's bare legs. ~ Kaitlyn Dunnett

Write about an empty birdcage"

Write about an empty birdcage. As in: write about your ribcage after
robbery. Use negative space to wind a song from the place on the
dresser where a music box isn't. Write about the corners where the two
of you used to meet. Draw the intersections, arrow to the sidewalk
where her shoes aren't near yours. Write about

an empty birdcage. As in: write about a hinged-open
jaw that is neither sigh nor scream. Use this to signify
EXIT. Make sure to describe the teeth, the glint of
metal deep down in the molars, the smell of breath after lack of
water. Make sure to draw this mouth a thirsty and human portrait of
what it means to be used up. Write about voice by writing

about how it feels when it's painful to swallow. If you must put noise
in the scene
make it the sound of bird wings flapping in a cardboard box. Show us
an empty cage and give us the sound of confinement. Take hope and fold
it small as seed, then suck on it. Slow and selfish. Write about an
empty birdcage. Birdcage can read: building, structure, abandoned or
adorned. As in:

loop and tighten a vine of nostalgia around the room
you currently brick yourself into. Recreate the sweet of jasmine, but
mortar the door so it will not seep through. Write about an empty
birdcage. Replay us the scene. As in: she presses her pale cheek
against the window, as he t ~ Elaina M. Ellis

Well I could have been just a writer. I had been a hair dresser. I could have stuck with that. ~ Fran Drescher

Mystery is good."
He drummed his fingertips on my thigh. "Maybe.Maybe not. But I'll let it go. How about this: If I were to open the top drawer of your dresser, what would I find?"
"Are we back to discussing my underwear again?"
"Only in graphic detail ... " He flicked my sore knee, but not where the bruise was. "I keep loose change and my oldest comic books in mine. Some people have journals or photographs or awards ... "
"Okay,okay." I sighed. "Underwear," I said. "Two ancient swimsuits, and a magazine file."
"Of ... ?"
"Pictures I've pulled out of magazines."
"Yes,thank you. I gathered that. What's in it?"
I squirmed a little and contemplated lying. Travel pix, shoes, hints on getting glue off of Ultrasuede ... "Mostly pictures of models with short hair," I confessed finally. "It's sort of a goal of mine."
Alex reached up and wrapped a strand around his finger. "I like your hair," he said quietly, "but I think you'd look great whatever you did with it. ~ Melissa Jensen

I made it inside the Hotel Grecian and tried my French on the receptionist. I didn't get far, but she seemed happy I at least tried. My room had a soft bed and a fifty-year-old dresser, and the bathroom came furnished with a four-foot bath with a shower over it, and a sit-on toilet. The whole space smelled a bit like the Miss Piggywiggy. ~ A.D. Davies

Michael stands at the dresser, putting his comb into his back right pocket, his wallet into his back left pocket, his keys into his front right pocket. A place for everything , and everything in its proper place. Except, perhaps, his wife. ~ Lisa Grunwald

When we pause to think, we are compelled to admit the existence of consciousness as the primal and surest fact. What we know of the great world around is known through our states of consciousness, and if we seem to be living a merely objective life, amidst external things, it is because we have become oblivious of the real nature of experience. ~ Horatio Dresser

To this day I still do not know why red shoes are sooo me. I think it might be that in a way the color demonstrates that though I am not much of a dresser I do have a fiery element in me and sometimes I even run with it. ~ Gisela Hausmann

Cautiously, I allowed myself to feel good at times. I found moments of peace in ... rooms just staring at the knobs of some dresser or listening to the rain in the dark. The less I needed the better I felt. ~ Charles Bukowski

Howard thought, Is it not true: A move of the head, a step to the left or right, and we change from wise, decent, loyal people to conceited fools? Light changes, our eyes blink and see the world from the slightest difference of perspective and our place in it has changed infinitely: Sun catches cheap plate flaking
I am a tinker; the moon is an egg glowing in its nest of leafless trees
I am a poet; a brochure for an asylum is on the dresser
I am an epileptic, insane; the house is behind me
I am a fugitive. His despair had not come from the fact that he was a fool; he knew he was a fool. The despair came from the fact that his wife saw him as a fool, as a useless tinker, a copier of bad verses from two-penny religious magazines, an epileptic, and could find no reason to turn her head and see him as something better. ~ Paul Harding

When Diana returned to work on Monday, September 16, she came directly to my bedroom and announced, "Mrs. Robertson, I have something important to tell you." I could see out of the corner of my eye that she had a slight, mischievous grin on her face.
"Go right ahead," I said as I continued to blow-dry my hair in front of the mirror above the dresser.
"No, Mrs. Robertson, I'd like your full attention." I switched off my hair dryer and faced her as she stood in the doorway. "When you leave for work this morning, you'll notice a lot of reporters and photographers at the entrance to the mews."
I wondered aloud if the press were following either Lord Vestey, a notorious international financier, or John Browne, a bright young M.P. known as one of "Maggie's boys," both of whom lived on our small street.
"No, actually, Mrs. Robertson, they're waiting for me," Diana said with a great deal of blushing, staring at the floor, and throat clearing.
"Good heavens, Diana, why?"
"Well . . . I spent last weekend at Balmoral."
"With Prince Andrew?" I asked, remembering my friend Lee's comment on the way to Glyndebourne.
"No, actually, I was there to see Prince Charles." More blushes and throat clearing, quickly followed by her disclaimer, "But he didn't invite me. His mother did." Hearing Diana speak of Her Majesty the Queen as "his mother" certainly gave me a clear picture of the circles in which Diana moved.
I gasped and asked, probably rather tact ~ Mary Robertson

It is only for a week or two that a broken chair or a door off its hinges is recognised for such. Soon, imperceptibly, it changes its character, and becomes the chair which is always left in the corner, the door which does not shut. A pin, fastening a torn valance, rusts itself into the texture of the stuff, is irremovable; the cracked dessert place and the stewpan with a hole in it, set aside until the man who rivets and solders should chance to come that way, become part of the dresser, are taken down and dusted and put back, and when the man arrives no one remembers them as things in need of repair. Five large keys rest inside the best soup-tureen, scrupulously preserved though no one knows what it was they once opened, and the pastry-cutter is there too, little missed, for the teacup without a handle has taken its place. ~ Sylvia Townsend Warner