Not From My Loins Quotes

I turned to Kitty Sue and surprised myself by answering honestly, "I'm fine. Lee's fine. Lee's more fine than me. I'm having troubles adjusting. Lee seems pretty sure of himself. Lee seems pretty sure of everything."

This, I realized, was true about Lee always. I'd never met someone as confident in my life. Well, maybe Hank, but Hank's confidence was quiet and assured. And there was Lee's best friend, Eddie, of course. But Eddie was like Lee's twin, separated at birth, cut from the same cloth. Lee's confidence, and Eddie's, wasn't like Hank's. It was cocky and assertive.

"And you aren't sure?" Kitty Sue asked.

I looked at her and thought maybe I should have lied. It was too late now.

"Nope. He scares me," I admitted.

She nodded. "Yep, he's pretty dang scary."

I stared. My God, the woman was talking about her son.

"You agree?"

She looked at Lee then back at me. "Honey, that boy drives me to distraction. It's like he's not of my loins. I don't even know where he came from. If Ally hadn't been the exact replica of Lee, personality-wise, except female I would have wondered if there was a mix up at the hospital."

I kept staring. Kitty Sue kept talking.

"Hank's just like his Dad. Smart, cautious, controlled, taking only calculated risks. I'm sure Lee calculates his risks, but I think he allows for a much larger margin for error and counts on ... I don't know what he counts ~ Kristen Ashley

I've known a lot of religious people. My mother is very religious, but she also is very private about it. When I was growing up, she never went to church. She just prayed and read her Bible and kept it to herself. I'm not from a background of flamboyant believers. It's much more a personal issue. ~ Michael Shannon

Her face screws up in disgust and she steps forward. "You're a fool, Miller Hart. He'll never let you walk away."
He explodes.
"I love her!" he roars, knocking every person back in the room. "I fucking love her!" Tears burst from my eyes and I fall into his side. He immediately grabs me and pulls me close. "I love her. I love everything she stands for and I love how much she loves me. It's more than you love me. It's more than any of you claim to love me! It's pure and light. It's made me feel. It's made me want more. If any fucker tries to take her away from me, I'll fucking kill them." Pulling up for a second, he gathers a long breath. "Slowly," he adds, shaking beside me, clinging to me tightly, like he's afraid someone will try right now. "I don't care what he says. I don't care what he thinks he can do to me. It'll be him sleeping with one eye open, Sophia, not me. So tell him. Fucking run to him and confirm what he already knows. I don't want to fuck for living anymore. Tell him I don't want to line his pockets anymore. You're not holding me to ransom. Miller Hart is out of the game. The Special One has quit!" He withdraws and takes a few moments to suck in another calming gulp of air, while everyone looks at him, shocked. Including me. "I love her. Go to him. Tell him I love her. Tell him I'm Olivia's now. And tell him if he even thinks about touching a hair on her precious head, it'll be the last thing he ever does. ~ Jodi Ellen Malpas

Whatever the country or the venue, whoever I find myself with, I strongly believe that whenever you agree to pay for something, you vote for it. I personally try to be in coherence with my core values (as much as possible) so, since I do not want to vote for animal exploitation in any form or under any circumstance, I do not derogate from my chosen alimentation. I do not un-veganize myself for the time of a meal. Even if it implies eating only bread and drinking only water... And being made fun of by workmates in a convention (be there, done that, got the t-shirt). ~ Martin Blais

Naked Girl and Mirror

This is not I. I had no body once-
only what served my need to laugh and run
and stare at stars and tentatively dance
on the fringe of foam and wave and sand and sun.
Eyes loved, hands reached for me, but I was gone
on my own currents, quicksilver, thistledown.
Can I be trapped at last in that soft face?

I stare at you in fear, dark brimming eyes.
Why do you watch me with that immoderate plea-
'Look under these curled lashes, recognize
that you were always here; know me-be me.'
Smooth once-hermaphrodite shoulders, too tenderly
your long slope runs, above those sudden shy
curves furred with light that spring below your space.

No, I have been betrayed. If I had known
that this girl waited between a year and a year,
I'd not have chosen her bough to dance upon.
Betrayed, by that little darkness here, and here
this swelling softness and that frightened stare
from eyes I will not answer; shut out here
from my own self, by its new body's grace-

for I am betrayed by someone lovely. Yes,
I see you are lovely, hateful naked girl.
Your lips in the mirror tremble as I refuse
to know or claim you. Let me go-let me be gone.
You are half of some other who may never come.
Why should I tend you? You are not my own;
you seek that other-he will be your home.

Yet I pity your eyes in the mirror, misted ~ Judith A. Wright

Fix me," I commanded him. "This thing, what I've done - there's something wrong with me, Noah. Fix it."
Noah's expression broke my heart as he brushed my hair from my face, and skimmed the line of my neck. "I can't"
"Why not?" I asked, my voice threatening to crack.
"Because," he said, "You're not broken. ~ Michelle Hodkin

Learn from my miseries, and do not seek to increase your own. ~ Mary Shelley

Of course, once I'd wrapped my mind around the fact that it was Cal and not Archer standing in my bedroom, it dawned on me that Cal was standing in my bedroom.
"Hey," I breathed, hoping my hair wasn't a huge tangled mess, even though I was ninety-nine percent sure that it was. I mean, I could see it out of my peripheral vision.
"Hey."
"You're,um,in my room."
"I am."
"Is that allowed?"
"Well,we are engaged," Cal deadpanned.
I squinted at him, shoving big handfuls of my hair away from my face. I had no idea if that was supposed to be a joke or not. You could never tell with Cal.
"Did you want to watch me sleep or something? Because if that's the case, this engagement is so broken."
Cal's lips quirked in what might have been a smile. "Do you have a smart-ass reply for everything?
"If at all possible,yeah. ~ Rachel Hawkins

So,I'm curious." Alex dragged me from my pleasant contemplation of cowardice and back in the bathroom. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his feet almost touching mine. "What is it you like so much about this guy? I looked up his stuff. It's good, but nothing out of the ordinary."
What a difference a week and a shock to the ideals makes. I felt my defense of Edward sticking a little in my troat. "I like his portraits. He really saw people.It was his great strength, that intensity."
Alex tilted his chin toward the picture. "Not to seem crude, but she could be any girl with a nice ass." When I glared at him, he uncrossed his arms quickly and held up his hands in surrender. "Hey,all I mean is that if I were all about really seeing someone, that's not the angle I would choose."
He was probably right. No matter how I looked at it, he was probably right. "You're probably right," I told him.
He bowed. The small space suddenly got a lot smaller. "Stick with me, Grasshopper. I will never lead you wrong. ~ Melissa Jensen

God afternoon," I said cheerfully, with an especially saccharine smile for the High Lord. He blinked at me, and both of the faerie men murmured their greetings as I took a seat across from Lucien, not my usual place facing Tamlin.
I drank deeply from my goblet of water before piling food on my plate. I savored the tense silence as I consumed the meal before me.
"You look ... refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?"
"Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck.
"What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded.
I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it."
Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.
"I bit her," Tamlin said, not pausing as he cut his steak. "We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite. ~ Sarah J. Maas

To pull the metal splinter from my palm my father recited a story in a low voice. I watched his lovely face and not the blade. Before the story ended, he'd removed the iron sliver I thought I'd die from. I can't remember the tale, but hear his voice still, a well of dark water, a prayer. And I recall his hands, two measures of tenderness he laid against my face. ~ Li-Young Lee

We tend to make adjustments in our lives to get by, to survive. Sometimes we don't actually heal. We make changes. We deny. We mask. We cover up. We hide things. I could not change the fact Shellie committed suicide while I was away no more than I could change the fact she left me the poem. Eventually, I put the poem away to separate Shellie and the thoughts of her from my day-to-day life. I quit carrying a wallet because the wallet reminded me of the poem, and the poem reminded me I was helpless. ~ Scott Hildreth

I eat healthy and drink a lot of water. I eliminated most white sugar and dairy from my diet. It's done wonders for me not only in maintaining a healthy weight, but it's increased my energy levels and immunity. ~ Candace Cameron

Oh just kiss me Baethan!" I shouted, frustrated. This was taking too long.
He laughed lightly. "Not yet."
I rolled my eyes. "Brat."
"Nay love," he responded softly. His eyes met mine as he brushed his knuckles along my cheek. "Nothing is ever rushed with you. Every moment, every touch, every kiss…is an art form. Like a painter working on his masterpiece, I must be patient and precise with each and every stroke."
Oh my.
"Bae, I want to feel your lips upon mine."
"You will," he answered, "but this, this right here, is how a real kiss begins." His hands brushed along my arms and upward, moving slowly as they skimmed passed my chest as light as a feather. Rising higher, his fingers brushed along my neck and tilted my head back, his thumbs anchored on either side of the bottom of my chin. "Close your eyes," he whispered and I realized he was lowering his head, pausing just an inch from my lips. They parted, my breath accelerated as I awaited the tender touch of moist warmth that would follow.
My eyes closed and I breathed, several seconds passing us by as if hours, until his mouth closed over mine. His lips parted as his tongue gently pushed through, briefly, and then he pulled away slightly as his teeth nibbled my bottom lip. He held my face in his hands, and pressed multiple light kisses all over my mouth until I moaned. ~ Nikki Landis

Next to this central belief which,while I was reading, would be constantly reaching out from my inner self to the outer world, towards the discovery of truth, came the emotions aroused in me by the action in which I was taking part, for these afternoons were crammed with more dramatic events than occur, often, in a whole lifetime. These were the events taking Place in the book I was reading. It is true that the people concerned in them were not what Francoise would have called "real people." .... it matters not that the actions, the feelings of this new order of creatures appear to us in the guise of truth, since we have made them our own, since it is in ourselves that they are happening, that they are holding in thrall, as we feverishly turn over the pages of the book, our quickened breath and staring eyes. And once the novelist has brought us to this state, in which, as in all purely mental states, every emotion is multiplied ten-fold, into which his book comes to disturb us as might a dream, but a dream more lucid and more abiding than those which come to us in sleep, why then, for the space of an hour he sets free within us all the joys and sorrows in the world, a few of which only we should have to spend years of our actual life in getting to know, and the most intense of which would never be revealed to us of their development prevents us from perceiving them. It is the same in life; the heart changes, and it is our worst sorrow; but we know it only through reading, thr ~ Marcel Proust

I'm not really an autobiographical writer, though I use lots of stuff from my life to make my stories seem real. But when I actually write about myself, I get very confused. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

I spend a lot of time in my bed. It's a good comfy one with a tartan bedspread. It's the only place I can read without straining my neck, and I take an afternoon nap, which is my reward for making enough money from my writing now not to have to work. I never get up in the morning before 11.30. ~ Martin Millar

Running my fastest not from my past. Running from those who have hurt me in it. And, they can't catch me anymore. I escaped from the land of make believe. ~ Jill Telford

On a micro level, if we're not terribly lucky, this sort of thing can happen to us quite frequently - the political becoming the personal in dramatic and irreparable ways. I remember the first time I went out into the desert, passing by all these mine fields and getting the history on them from my guide and realizing all these murderous mechanisms were real, were just sitting out there waiting for a victim, and some of them had been for sixty, seventy, eighty years. ~ Ron Currie Jr.

Spend the night with me." ( ... )
"I'm tired of living like I'm not alive." He dropped his hands from my face to grip my shoulders. "I'm bloody sick to death of it. I want one night to be alive. With you." He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on mine.
"Please, Anna. One last night and we'll go back to being safe again. I need this. I need you. ~ Wendy Higgins

I'm honored when young people say they've gone to school on slide guitar with my records. But people get their influence from my live shows and records and YouTube, not me personally. I walk around with a hat on. People don't know it's me. ~ Bonnie Raitt

It seems that in the kingdom of Heaven, the cosmic lottery works in reverse; in the kingdom of Heaven, all of our notions of the lucky and the unlucky, the blessed and the cursed, the haves and the have-nots, are turned upside down. In the kingdom of Heaven, the last will be first and the first will be last. In India, I realised that while the poor and oppressed certainly deserve my compassion and help, they do not need my pity. Widows and orphans and lepers and untouchables enjoy special access to the Gospel that I do not have. They benefit immediately from the Good News that freedom is found not in retribution but in forgiveness, that real power belongs not to the strong but to the merciful, that joy comes not from wealth but from generosity. The rest of us have to get used to the idea that we cannot purchase love or fight for peace or find happiness in high positions. Those of us who have never suffered are at a disadvantage because Jesus invites His followers to fellowship in His suffering. In fact, the first thing Jesus did in His sermon on the mount was to mess with our assumptions about the cosmic lottery. In Luke's account, Jesus says, "Blessed are you who are poor for yours is the Kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort. Woe to you who are well-fed now, for you will go hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you wi ~ Rachel Held Evans

Religion promotes the hatred and spite against gays. From my point of view, I would ban religion completely. Organised religion doesn't seem to work. It turns people into really hateful lemmings and it's not really compassionate. ~ Elton John

What really worries me is that those who are in positions of power are not really affected by what we are writing. In the moral dialogue you want to start, you really want to involve the leaders. People ask me: "Why were you so bold as to publish A Man of the People? How did you think the Government was going to take it? You didn't know there was going to be a coup?" I said rather flippantly that nobody was going to read it anyway, so I wasn't likely to be fired from my official position. It's a distressing thought that we cannot engage our leaders in the kind of moral debate we need. ~ Chinua Achebe

No more photos. Surely there are enough. No more shadows of myself thrown by light onto pieces of paper, onto squares of plastic. No more of my eyes, mouths, noses, moods, bad angles. No more yawns, teeth, wrinkles. I suffer from my own multiplicity. Two or three images would have been enough, or four, or five. That would have allowed for a firm idea: This is she. As it is, I'm watery, I ripple, from moment to moment I dissolve into my other selves. Turn the page: you, looking, are newly confused. You know me too well to know me. Or not too well: too much. ~ Margaret Atwood

My heart might very well beat itself from my chest," she whispered, "and 'tis difficult to breathe."
"How odd." Passion thickened his voice. "I seem to be suffering the same symptoms. Does anything else plague you?"
"A terrible weakness," she whispered shakily. "If you let me go, I am not entirely certain I shall be able to stand."
He buried his face in her neck. "Then I shall never let you go. ~ Jo Grafford

As my object was not myself, I set out with the determination, and happily with the disposition, of not being moved by praise or censure, friendship or calumny, nor of being drawn from my purpose by any personal altercation; and the man who cannot do this, is not fit for a public character. ~ Thomas Paine

Oh my honey Jesus. You did NOT tell Sway that you knew this fine mountain of a man, no you did NOT. Holy goodness Lord above, I need a cold shower after that girlfriend. You get your pretty little self into my chair and you tell Sway all about it. Every single delectable thing about it, if you know what I mean. Sweet heavens, I need a drink."
I turn my head from my perch in Axel's arms and laugh down at Sway. He is standing in the doorway of the salon fanning his face.
"What is that?" Axel says softly into my ear so only I hear him.
Turning around with a bright smile I say, "That is Sway. ~ Harper Sloan

I inherited a vile melancholy from my father, which has made me mad all my life, at least not sober. ~ Samuel Johnson

So, Mr Oh Sehun." Kai called, grinning like an idiot. "Tell me more about you."

"Why would I?"

"So that I can distract myself from my shitty life. But please, no bluh bluh X plus 5X equals to 8 shit."

Sehun blinked his eyes at how Kai said that. This was the first time he had found the guy to be cute. "For your information, X plus 5X is not equivalent to 8. ~ FishMeAnEXo

It wasn't supposed to. It was just supposed to stop you from hurting yourself." "It helps - " "No it doesn't. It just pushes it away temporarily. Just like the booze." "But I need - " "You need to let yourself feel. Feel it, own it. Then move on." "You make it sound so easy." Bitterness drips from each syllable. "It's not. It's the fucking hardest thing a person can do." I smooth a damp strand out of her face and away from my mouth. "It's the hardest fucking thing. It's why we drink and do drugs and fight. It's why I play music and build engines. ~ Jasinda Wilder

Tobias," I say anyway. My hands shake, but not from fear this time– from anger. "Where is he? What are you doing to him?"
"I see no reason to provide that information," says Jeanine...

I make my voice flat and factual, like hers. "I see no reason to provide that information."
I hear a faint snort. Peter is covering his mouth. Jeanine glares at him, and his laughter effortlessly transforms into a coughing fit.
"Mockery is childish, Beatrice," she says. "It does not become you."
"Mockery is childish, Beatrice," I repeat in my best imitation of her voice. "It does not become you." ~ Veronica Roth

You...you always made everything sound like it's not a big deal. You're doing that now."
His lips continued to curve on the right and the dimple appeared. Then he sighed and scooted forward, spreading his legs. His hands suddenly landed on my hips, and I almost dropped the cotton ball at the unexpected contact. My breath caught as he lowered me so I was sitting on the edge of the coffee table and he kept moving forward, the inside of his legs sliding against the outside of mine. The rough material of his jeans touching my bare skin sent a raw, drenching rush of sensation through my veins.
"That better?" he asked, peering at me through lowered lashes.
I blinked, having no idea what he was talking about, and then I realized that seated like this, it was easier to reach him. His hands dropped from my hips to rest on his thighs, and they were oh so close to mine. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

When I write a story, I just wanna tell you what's in my head. It can come from real life and then turn into fantasy, stuff just rhyming. And write about what you know. I just like to tell stories that have not been told or told from my perspective. ~ Nas

You haven't fucked anyone in three years, Lia, and your plan is to fuck someone else so you don't give into your temptation to fuck me. And if we're being blunt here, that kind of fucking pisses me off."
… "So what?" she huffed. "I still reserve the right to sleep with whoever else I want."
"No." I stepped forward. "That's not how it's going to work"
"Shut up! Are you really going to be that person who's known me a week and tries to tell me who I'm allowed to fuck?"
"No, I'm going to be that person who fucks you and gives you want you need because you know you don't actually want anyone else," I muttered, walking into her despite her hands pushing my chest. "You're attracted to me, aren't you? You haven't been this attracted to anyone in a while. I woke up your need to fuck, so if you're planning on fucking someone, why isn't it the person you actually want?" I removed her hands from my chest and held them at her sides. "Why go for your second choice when your first wants you just as bad? ~ Stella Rhys

The least known among the virtues and also the most misunderstood is the virtue of humility. Yet, it is the very groundwork of Christianity. Humility is a grace of the soul that cannot be expressed in words and is only known by experience. It is an unspeakable treasure of God, and only can be called the gift of God. "Learn," He said, not from angels, not from men, not from books; but learn from My presence, light, and action within you, "that I am meek and humble of heart, and you shall find rest to your souls". ~ William Bernard Ullathorne

Lark of memory
it is your blood that is flowing
and not mine
Lark of memory
I have tightened my fist
Lark of memory
dead bird of mist
you should not have come
to eat from my hand
the grains of oblivion. ~ Jacques Prevert

My mind feels like a race car on the track, getting faster and faster every time I pause to think or blink or try to focus on anything. Nothing can keep up to it, not the other cars, not my body, not anyone else in the bar. It's a rush, pure exhilaration, and I'm having the time of my life. But instead of driving, I'm in the passenger seat, along for the ride, watching myself race around the track from my barstool. ~ Shannon Mullen