Hair On Fire Quotes

It's funny, honestly, by rights, with a lot of the stuff that's happened to me I should be running down the street with my hair on fire, but instead I want to shape things, and I want to shake things up. There's nothing wrong with being an agitator. ~ Rose McGowan

You never know what the vodka will bring," I laughed.
"Oh, like the time you caught my hair on fire at the candlelight party in Mel's basement! That was the craziest thing that I ever had happen to me. If you hadn't switched to water, I would have been bald!"
-Cora, Nessa ~ Andrea Heltsley

What the newbies aren't told on their tour of the school grounds is that Gilly's sword is charged with enough electricity to... well... light your hair on fire.
I just love the start of school. ~ Ally Carter

And she told me I deserved a merit badge for it ... which was such a particularly funny, particularly uncanny thing for her to have said, because when I was about eight years old and I was a Cub Scout, all the boys in our den were sitting around in the kitchen of our den mother one afternoon, and she lit a cigarette bending over the flame from the front burner of the stove, and she set her hair on fire, and I put it out - I don't remember if I just smothered it with my hands or doused it with some Sprite or what - but she stared at me with this sort of demented look of gratitude on her face (she drank) and she said, 'I'm going to recommend that you get a merit badge for this,' and sure enough I did, I actually got a merit badge for extinguishing the fire in our den mother's hair. ~ Mark Leyner

If it makes you feel any better Tory, they were just as bad when Mia was born. At least you don't have Sin, Kish, and Damien running around, trying to boil water for no other reason than that's what someone had told Sin husbands are supposed to do and since Sin doesn't know how to boil water, he had to micromanage the other two incompetents who'd never done it either. I'm amazed they didn't band together to kill him during it or burn down the casino. And don't get me started on my mother trying to murder my husband in the middle of it or her fighting with grandma over whose labors were more painful. Or, (she cast a meaningful glance to Simi,) someone setting my mother's hair on fire and trying to barbecue her to celebrate the birth." – Kat
"That an old Charonte custom that go back forever 'cause we a really old race of demons who go back even before forever. When a new baby is born you kill off an old annoying family member who gets on everyone's nerves which for all of us would be the heifer-goddess 'cause the only person who like her be you, Akra-Kat. I know she you mother and all, but sometimes you just gotta say no thank you. You a mean old heifer-goddess who need to go play in tragic and get run over by something big like a steamroller or bus or something else really painful that would hurt her a lot and make the rest of us laugh. Not to mention the Simi barbecue would have been fun too if someone, Akra-Kat, hadn't stopped the Simi from it. I personally think it wou ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

It's a dimissive term to say the Irish team are plucky because it rings back to the old days when we went out and gave it a lash, set our hair on fire and ran after the opposition for 20 minutes and, if they survived that, they beat us by 50 points. ~ Eddie O'Sullivan

Valek leaned back in his chair and said to me, "I don't think I would have made it past the audition,Yelena. I probably would have set my hair on fire by this point."
"What's a singed head for the sake of art?" I teased. He laughed. ~ Maria V. Snyder

...There is nothing Jake wouldn´t do for his wife, and even less he wouldn´t do for the syndicate."
Including kill me and torture my sister.
The thought of damning someone else to the hell I was living in made me want to light my own hair on fire and take a bath in gasoline. ~ Rachel Vincent

Whenever Percy stopped by to see [Annabeth], she was so lost in thought that the conversation went something like this:
Percy: 'Hey, how's it going?'
Annabeth: 'Uh, no thanks.'
Percy: 'Okay ... have you eaten anything today?'
Annabeth: 'I think Leo is on duty. Ask him.'
Percy: 'So, my hair is on fire.'
Annabeth: 'Okay, in a while. ~ Rick Riordan

You're telling me that Lilith Clout, the girl who set my hair on fire in ninth grade, could be literally a bitch from Hell? That all my voodoo toward her might have been justified? I guess so. Daniel shrugged. ~ Lauren Kate

To be sure, if psychopaths do recognize that actions that are harmful are proscribed, this raises a question about why psychopaths and control criminals provide different explanations for why it is wrong to hit or pull someone's hair. Psychopaths offered conventional-type justifications (e.g., "it's not the done thing" [the subjects were British]), whereas the nonpsychopathic criminals offered justifications based on the victim's welfare. ~ Shaun Nichols

I think it would be wrong to consider 'Ashes and Fire' a love album. The record is obsessed with time. I believe that there is a kinder view of the self on this record. ~ Ryan Adams

oxygen

Everything needs it: bone, muscles, and even,
while it calls the earth its home, the soul.
So the merciful, noisy machine

stands in our house working away in its
lung-like voice. I hear it as I kneel
before the fire, stirring with a

stick of iron, letting the logs
lie more loosely. You, in the upstairs room,
are in your usual position, leaning on your

right shoulder which aches
all day. You are breathing
patiently; it is a

beautiful sound. It is
your life, which is so close
to my own that I would not know

where to drop the knife of
separation. And what does this have to do
with love, except

everything? Now the fire rises
and offers a dozen, singing, deep-red
roses of flame. Then it settles

to quietude, or maybe gratitude, as it feeds
as we all do, as we must, upon the invisible gift:
our purest, sweet necessity: the air. ~ Mary Oliver

Idly, I switch the mean machine on and fire up the e-mail program. ~ E.L. James

Sometimes in life, it doesn't matter that you've just woken up on a floor. Or that you haven't brushed your teeth. Or that your hair is a mess and you're wearing the clothes you slept in. Sometimes you just have to be polite. ~ Matthew Norman

The cat walked stiffly round a leg of the table with tail on high. - Mkgnao! - O, there you are, Mr Bloom said, turning from the fire. The cat mewed in answer and stalked again stiffly round a leg of the table, mewing. Just how she stalks over my writingtable. Prr. Scratch my head. Prr. ~ James Joyce

He whispered as he kissed down her neck. "I would love nothing more than to take you right here on the counter, Fire Angel, but if I'm late to meet with your grandmothers, they might just decide to throw my ass on a funeral pyre and I wouldn't be back for three days. ~ Brynn Myers

Look, my son, she is so beautiful, she has fair skin and green eyes and brown hair.'

'She's English?' I asked cheekily, holding the cheap photo print with trepidation.

Which unfortunate victim had they found for me to marry in what backwater, unbeknownst that my heart was not for trading? Honour would quote Shakespeare to make a point; for me, it was always Rumi.

'La hawla wala kuwwat... May God protect us from such misfortune... you think I have lost my senses that I would marry you to a white girl?' My mum used the word gori as an insult and yet when she talked about Billo she said 'Look how gori she is.'

Oh, Mum, the irony.

'Well, you seem pretty obsessed with green eyes and skin colour,' I mumbled.

'She is gorgeous.' Mum went on ignoring me. 'Think how beautiful your children, my grandchildren, will be? They will have cats' eyes, just like Billo.'

Honour has fair skin and green eyes too, and just think how beautiful your grandchildren will be if they're mixed race, I thought.

I didn't say that to my mum, obviously. ~ Ruth Ahmed

The whole universe was stilled as if listening for a voice. For the space of one heartbeat there was peace on earth. For one fraction of a moment there was no deed of violence wrought on earth, no hatred, no fire, no whirlwind, no pain, no fear. Existence rested against the heart of God, then sighed and journeyed again. ~ Elizabeth Goudge

I wish you'd told me this before."
"It wouldn't have changed anything."
"Maybe not. But talking about wounds can help heal them."
"You don't talk about yours," she pointed out.
He sat down on the sofa facing her and leaned forward. "But I do," he said seriously. "I talk to you. I've never told anyone else about the way my father treated us. That's a deeply personal thing. I don't share it. I can't share it with anyone but you."
"I'm part of your life," she said heavily, smoothing her hair back again. "Neither of us can help that. You were my comfort when Mama died, my very salvation when my stepfather hurt me. But I can't expect you to go on taking care of me. I'm twenty-five years old, Tate. I have to let you go."
"No, you don't." He caught her wrists and pulled her closer. He was more solemn than she'd ever seen him. "I'm tired of fighting it. Let's find out how deep your scars ago. Come to bed with me, Cecily. I know enough to make it easy for you."
She stared at him blankly. "Tate…" She touched his lean cheek hesitantly. He was offering her paradise, if she could face her own demons in bed with him. "This will only make things worse, whatever happens."
"You want me," he said gently. "And I want you. Let's get rid of the ghosts. If you can get past the fear, I won't have anyone else from now on except you. I'll come to you when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when the world falls on me. I'll lie in your arms and comfort you when you're sad ~ Diana Palmer

You've got to shake your fists at lightning now, you've got to roar like forest fire
You've got to spread your light like blazes all across the sky
They're going to aim the hoses on you, show 'em you won't expire
Not till you burn up every passion, not even when you die
Come on now, you've got to try, if you're feeling contempt, well then you tell it
If you're tired of the silent night, Jesus, well then you yell it
Condemned to wires and hammers, strike every chord that you feel
That broken trees and elephant ivories conceal ~ Joni Mitchell

Was Zeb asking if Silver wanted to come home with him? He had to squeeze the pad hard against his scrape so the pain would shut away the idea of climbing into Zeb's bed. The most horrible part was realizing the longing wasn't centered in Silver's dick, but higher. Something hollow right below his ribs, like the constant gnaw of hunger he remembered from when he'd been living on the street. The thought of being pressed up close to Zeb's skin, the familiar arms around him, the brush of hair against his neck. The idea hurt worse than when Silver had smelled fried food back then. Because there was no way he was ever going to be able to feed this rumble of want. "Oh. Back to Quinn's. I'm still staying with them. ~ K.A. Mitchell

I feel that the kinks, curls, or tight coils in Afro hair is beautiful and unique. No other race on this planet has hair like ours - that makes me proud. ~ Monica Millner

Early one seasonably cold morning, the first day of November, in the year of our lord 1952...the Cuyahoga River caught fire.

The river burned.

It wasn't so much the river, but a huge oil slick *on* the river, though distinguishing one from the other was more a job for a chemist than a lay observer. ~ Mark Winegardner

I tell you, you Heaven's Holy Baal, you don't exist; but that, if you did, I would curse you so that your Heaven would quiver with the fire of hell! I tell you, I have offered you my service, and you repulsed me; and I turn my back on you for all eternity, because you did not know your time of visitation! I tell you that I am about to die, and yet I mock you! You Heaven God and Apis! with death staring me in the face - I tell you, I would rather be a bondsman in hell than a freedman in your mansions! I tell you, I am filled with a blissful contempt for your divine paltriness; and I choose the abyss of destruction for a perpetual resort, where the devils Judas and Pharaoh are cast down! ~ Knut Hamsun

She drew herself up and took in a breath, concentrating on her inflection so that she could indulge him in his game. Then she leaned forward and, in her best, most sincerely love-struck voice, breathed, "I love thee."
Sonny's face was just inches from hers. His storm-gray eyes flashed, and the dark silk of his hair drifted across his cheek as he leaned in his head. "Perfect."
So was the kiss.
Perfect.
"I love thee," Sonny murmured, all pretense gone. ~ Lesley Livingston

So we get a plan," I said. "Any suggestions?"
"Blow up the building," Kincaid said without looking up. "That works good for vampires. Then soak what's left in gasoline. Set it on fire. Then blow it all up again."
"For future reference, I was sort of hoping for a suggestion that didn't sound like it came from that Bolshevik Muppet with all the dynamite. ~ Jim Butcher

He put it into drive and turned on the headlights. And there she was, standing in their white glow.
Holmes's skin was smoked black from the explosion, her hair flecked with snow. Her violin dangled from her fingers. She opened her mouth, and I saw her say my name.
I was out of the car in a heartbeat, and in the next, she was in my arms . . . "You're alive," I murmured, tucking my head over hers. "I'm so sorry. ~ Brittany Cavallaro

Gabriel came out a moment later, while Kaitlyn was still standing motionless by the stairs. He was shrugging into his T-shirt. He looked particularly handsome in a just-roused, early morning way. His hair was very wavy, as if someone had run fingers through it to release the curl, his eyes were hooded and lazy and there was a faint smile of satisfaction on his lips.
Kaitlyn discovered that she wanted to kill him. The image that came to her mind was of hitting him with a rolling pin, but not in an amusing, comic-book sort of way. ~ L.J.Smith

Through the open doorway suddenly stepped a small woman, long ebony hair braided intricately, huge blue eyes flashing at Mikhail. As Byron shouldered his way inside behind her, she gave him a friendly smile and stood on her toes to brush his chin with a kiss.
Mikhail stiffened, then immediately wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. "Carpathian women do not do that kind of thing," he reprimanded her.
She tilted her chin at him, in no way intimidated. "That's because Carpathian males have such a territorial mentality - you know, a beat-their-chest, swing-from-the-trees sort of thing." She turned her head to look at the couple lying on the floor. Her indrawn breath was audible.
"Jacques." She whispered his name, tears in her voice and in her blue eyes. "It really is you." Eluding Mikhail's outstretched, detaining hand, she ran to him.
Let her, Gregori persuaded softly. Look at him.
Jacques' gaze was fastened on the woman's face, the red flames receding from his eyes as she approached.
"I'm Raven, Jacques. Don't you remember me? Mikhail, your brother, is my lifemate." Raven dropped to her knees beside the couple. "Thank God you're alive. I can't believe how lucky we are. Who did this to you? Who took you from us?"
Shea felt the ripple of awareness in her mind. Jacques' shock. His curiosity. He recognized those tear-filled blue eyes. Shea caught a glimpse, a fragment of memory, the woman bending over him, her hands clamped to his thr ~ Christine Feehan

She was very ugly - the ugliest person you ever saw in your life! Her hair was scraped into a bun, sticking straight out at the back of her head like a teapot handle; and her face was round and wrinkly, and she had eyes like two little black boot-buttons. And her nose! - she had a nose like two potatoes. She wore a rusty black dress right up to the top of her neck and right down to her button boots, and a rusty black jacket and a rusty black bonnet, all trimmed with trembly black jet, with her teapot-handled of a bun sticky out at the back. And she carried a small brown case and a large black stick, and she had a very fierce expression indeed on her wrinkly, round, brown face.
But what you noticed most of all was that she had one huge front Tooth, sticking right out like a tombstone over her lower lip. You never, in the whole of your life, ever saw such a Tooth! ~ Christianna Brand

The economic structure of capitalist society has grown out of the economic structure of feudal society. The dissolution of the latter set free the elements of the former ... [T]he historical movement which changes the producers into wage-workers, appears, on the one hand, as their emancipation from serfdom and from the fetters of the guilds, and this side alone exists for our bourgeois historians. But, on the other hand, these new freedmen became sellers of themselves only after they had been robbed of all their own means of production, and of all the guarantees of existence afforded by the old feudal arrangements. And the history of this, their expropriation, is written in the annals of mankind in letters of blood and fire. ~ Karl Marx

Echo's breathing hitches when I slide my thumb along a smaller scar. She likes that spot. I've memorized it. A centimeter below the crook of her elbow. Her skin is sensitive there, and when I kiss it, Echo normally falls apart and nearly shatters.
I gently press my lips behind her ear, and Echo nudges closer to me. "Why, Echo?"
"Because."
I nip at her earlobe, and she shivers. "Because why?"
Her shoulder moves under my body. A half shrug maybe. "It makes me feel better."
Fuck that. "Why?"
A kiss on her neck. A long one. A lingering one. God damn, Echo tastes so good. Her skin is soft and tempting. But I want answers.
"Because sometimes I want to blend in."
I raise my head and stare straight into her eyes, spotting the plain honesty. What she doesn't understand is that she could never blend in. Blazing red hair. Bright emerald eyes. The most beautiful girl in the world. She'd turn heads regardless of a sweater. ~ Katie McGarry

I didn't want to love you," Anthony whispered. "It was the one thing I feared above all. I'd grown rather used to my rather odd little outlook on life. Almost comfortable, actually. But love - " His voice caught; the choking sound seemed unmanly, it made him vulnerable. But he didn't care, because this was Kate.
And it didn't matter if she saw his deepest fears, because he knew she'd love him no matter what. It was a sublimely freeing feeling.
"I've seen true love," he continued. "I wasn't the cynical jade society made me out to be. I knew love existed. My mother - my father - " He stopped, sucking in a ragged breath. This was the hardest thing he'd ever done. And yet he knew the words had to be said. He knew, no matter how difficult it was to get them out, that in the end, his heart would soar.
"I was so sure that it was the one thing that could make this . . . this . . . I don't really know what to call it - this knowledge of my own mortality . . ." He raked his hand through his hair, fighting for words. "Love was the only thing that was going to make that unbearable. How could I love someone, truly and deeply, knowing that it was doomed?"
"But it's not doomed," Kate said, squeezing his hand.
"I know. I fell in love with you, and then I knew. Even if I am right, even if I'm fated to live only as long as my father did before me, I'm not doomed." He leaned forward and brushed a feather-light kiss on her lips. "I have you," he whispered, "and I' ~ Julia Quinn

As ever in the family Goodman, someone would have to swallow feelings here, and it was easier that it be Mercer. ~ Garth Risk Hallberg

There are two kinds of directors: There's the kind where two plus two equals four, and you have to help them figure it out. And then there's the kind that throws you in a room, locks the door, sets the house on fire and films it. ~ Michael Pitt

You shouldn't pull out the chair for me, or even open doors for me," she told him.
He pulled back slightly to look at her, his face only inches from hers. Even in the dim light, she could see that his eyes were brown and only brown. There were no flecks of gold or green, just one single, deep shade of chocolate.
He studied her intensely then leaned toward her again, his breath warm against her neck as he spoke. "You don't think Alice Plotkin deserves that kind of respect?"
"She's supposed to be invisible."
"She's not invisible to me."
Again, he pulled back, and the warmth in his eyes seemed to heat her from within. His gaze flicked down to her mouth, and Alessandra knew with complete certainty that he was going to kiss her. In just a moment, he was going to pull her toward him and kiss her. She couldn't think of anything she wanted more.
Cutting his hair had been torture. He'd sat there, without a shirt on, Ace bandage around his ribs, obliviously sexy. She'd touched the hard muscles on his shoulders and back more than once, using the lame excuse of brushing cut hair off him.
Sometimes - okay, more than sometimes - the hair had been imaginary.
Touching Harry was like touching electricity. She hadn't wanted to stop. His hair was so soft and thick, his skin silk over steel. ~ Suzanne Brockmann

The kind of event on a conveyor belt that causes a fire occurs in a variety of industrial environments, not uniquely in coal environments. ~ Richard Price

I like to get produced. I'm not saying I write to be commercial, I mean "Hazelwood High" they light a girl on fire, so it wasn't the most. ~ Rob Urbinati

I will walk my sweet little cousin out," Chris announced. He came up behind me to tug on my hair and laughed when I smacked his hand away. "Just trying to make up for all the years I missed out on." "Before ~ Karen Lynch

I've been rendered dumb by waist indents and a tiny hint of dark, happy trail hair under his belly button that could double as an arrow pointing down to his crotch like one of those giant, blinking signs on the highway announcing road construction. Warning! Slow Down! Large Package in Pants Ahead! $200 Fine and Possible Loss of All Brain Function if Barrier is Crossed! ~ Tara Sivec

But it wasn't a Primary. It was hell among the yearlings and the Charge of the Light Brigade and Saturday night in the backroom of Casey's Saloon rolled into one, and when the smoke cleared away not a picture still hung on the walls. And there wasn't any Democratic Party. There was just Willie, with his hair in his eyes, and his shirt sticking to his stomach with sweat. And he had a meat ax in his hand and was screaming for blood. ~ Robert Penn Warren

There are certain lesson you pick up gradually as you go, letting them accumulate after a series of similar mistakes or experiences until you finally realize you've been a fool al along. And then there are lessons that are so massive they smack you in the face - you don't reflect on a period of your life and realize, 'Oh, I learned something then'; you know it's happening when it's happening. The importance of kindness - which extends far beyond 'please,' 'thank you,' and 'your hair doesn't look bad today' - is a combination of both: Over and over in my life, I've been bowled over by how kind people can be, and how that kindness can change your outlook. ~ Alyssa Mastromonaco

The statesman received us with that old-fashioned courtesy for which he is remarkable, and seated us on the two luxuriant lounges on either side of the fireplace. Standing on the rug between us, with his slight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that not too common type, a nobleman who is in truth noble. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

California, Labor Day weekend...early, with ocean fog still in the streets, outlaw motorcyclists wearing chains, shades and greasy Levis roll out from damp garages, all-night diners and cast-off one-night pads in Fricso, Hollywood, Berdoo and East Oakland, heading for the Monterey peninsula, north of Big Sur...The Menace is loose again, the Hell's Angels, the hundred-carat headline, running fast and loud on the early morning freeway, low in the saddle, nobody smiles, jamming crazy through traffic and ninety miles an hour down the center stripe, missing by inches...like Genghis Khan on an iron horse, a monster steed with a fiery anus, flat out through the eye of a beer can and up your daughter's leg with no quarter asked and non given; show the squares some class, give em a whiff of those kicks they'll never know...Ah, these righteous dudes, they love to screw it on...Little Jesus, the Gimp, Chocolate George, Buzzard, Zorro, Hambone, Clean Cut, Tiny, Terry the Tramp, Frenchy, Mouldy Marvin, Mother Miles, Dirty Ed, Chuck the Duck, Fat Freddy, Filthy Phil, Charger Charley the Child Molester, Crazy Cross, Puff, Magoo, Animal and at least a hundred more...tense for the action, long hair in the wind, beards and bandanas flapping, earrings, armpits, chain whips, swastikas and stripped-down Harleys flashing chrome as traffic on 101 moves over, nervous, to let the formation pass like a burst of dirty thunder... ~ Hunter S. Thompson

When he went to go get groceries, though, he asked Mercer to come. 'There's no one I'd rather get stuck in a snowdrift and freeze to death with,' William said. ~ Garth Risk Hallberg

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

The first thing I saw was a handsome stranger. He was leaning over me and I luxuriated in his cool, radiantly blue eyes, glittering like diamonds.
How could someone be so perfect?
Drops of water glistened on his dark hair. There was a small dimple on his chin, covered with light stubble that lent his otherwise stern face a boyish attitude. I realised I was losing myself in his gaze ~ A.O. Esther

To Helen Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome. Lo, in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand, Ah! Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land! ~ Edgar Allan Poe

I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble. ~ Suzanne Collins

Hunters for gold or pursuers of fame, they all had gone out on that stream, bearing the sword, and often the torch, messengers of the might within the land, bearers of a spark from the sacred fire. ~ Joseph Conrad

All the horrors of all the ages were brought together, and not only armies but whole populations were thrust into the midst of them. The mighty educated States involved conceived-not without reason-that their very existence was at stake. Neither peoples nor rulers drew the line at any deed which they thought could help them win. Germany, having let Hell loose, kept well in the van of terror; but she was followed step by step by the desperate and ultimately avenging nations she had assailed. Every outrage against humanity or international law was repaid by reprisals-often of a greater scale and of longer duration. No truce or parley mitigated the strife of the armies. The wounded died between the lines: the dead mouldered into the soil. Merchant ships and neutral ships and hospital ships were sunk on the seas and all on board left to their fate, or killed as they swam. Every effort was made to starve whole nations into submission without regard to age or sex. Cities and monuments were smashed by artillery. Bombs from the air were cast down indiscriminately. Poison gas in many forms stifled or seared the soldiers. Liquid fire was projected upon their bodies. Men fell from the air in flames, or were smothered often slowly in the dark recesses of the sea. The fighting strength of armies was limited only by the manhood of their countries. Europe and large parts of Asia and Africa became one vast battlefield on which after years of struggle not armies but nations broke and ran. Whe ~ Winston S. Churchill

How could I have missed it? Easy. Deep in grief over Casey leaving, I'd gone on automatic pilot this morning, barely glancing in the mirror as I brushed my hair, smoothed on my makeup. I clamp down on the impulse to dig out a mirror and check out the 'mark. ~ Magda Alexander