Out Here The Good Girls Die Quotes

now cinderella, don't you go to sleep/ its such a bitter form of refuge ~ Brandon Flowers

Maybe he dates girls in Denver when he goes there for business but he never asks out girls around here. I think he's simply there for looks."
The same could be said for Lindsey's ex, Hopper. He had been good for looking at but not much else. "That might work for a little while," Lindsey said, "but I prefer my men fully functional."
Holly's gaze locked on something behind Lindsey. Her hazel eyes widened and her lips formed an 'O'. She tipped her head forward, prompting Lindsey to turn and look ... straight into the eyes of Carden Crenshaw. ~ Tracy March

Speaking of tongues, they are the main reason I'm a nervous wreck. Ryan is a senior and well, sadly, I'm not all that experienced with boys. I mean, I'm a freshman and have been to dances with boys my age and even have gone out with boys, but I've never really kissed them. Not like I hope to kiss Ryan anyway. Bobby Robinson did shove his tongue into my mouth one time, when we were kissing under the bleachers at a football game, but it didn't feel so good. I'm pretty sure he didn't have it exactly right. So I talked to my friends, Katie and Lisa, about how to properly make out. But, well, here is just a bit of their unhelpful advice.
Just let him take the lead, do what ever he does.
Um, couldn't that get me into a lot of trouble?
Just sort of kiss his tongue, but try not to drool.
Don't open your mouth too wide.
And then, just open your mouth wide.
See?
Stupid, conflicting information.
And this from girls who supposedly know how to do this!
I feel like I'm an undercover CIA agent trying to wrestle vital information out of a ruthless double agent, and the fate of the free world depends upon it. All the while, the President is yelling at me in a panic, saying, Somebody! Anybody! Just get me the truth! ~ Jillian Dodd

She had a collection of matchbooks from extravagant places, dropped here and there on tables in the dingy apartment she still shared with Gregg. They made it look as if she lived a gay, mad life. What a typical picture for anyone from out of New York: career girl's apartment, stockings drying over the shower rod, clothes flung helter-skelter in the rush to get to the office on time, to a date on time, a bottle of wine there too, wads of dust lying under the studio couch because you couldn't clean except weekends and sometimes not even then, and all those brightly colored matchbooks with names of well-known eating places, so that even if one managed only two good and sufficient meals a week one could still light one's cigarettes for the rest of the week with the memory. ~ Rona Jaffe

when you speak about feminism
they like to hit you with things
i call 'what about's–
what about women in the middle east
what about women in third world countries
what about focusing on them and not the problems here

and this all sounds good in theory
yes
we need to help them
yes
we need to help young girls
trapped in child marriages
yes
we need to help women
marred by acid attacks
yes
we need to help victims
of human trafficking
yes
we need to help women
who wil be imprisioned
beaten
killed
for speaking out about their sexual assault
for getting an abortion
for leaving an abusive husband

yes
we need to help them
of couse we do
it is our job as decent humans
to help them

but we can help them
and help ourselves at the same time

we can help young girls
in child marriages

and we can fight to end
the objectification of young girls
here

we can help women
marred by acid attacks

and we can work harder
to arrest abusers and assailants
here

we can help victims
of human trafficking

and we can stop stigma and violence
against sex workers
here

we can help women
who will be
imprisioned for speaking out about their sexual assault
beaten for getting an abortion
killed for lea ~ Catarine Hancock

Looking down at the stiff, cream-colored rice paper--the good kind that came in the books that we had never been able to afford--I was both excited and apprehensive. Remembering my rather precipitous departure from that wood gatherer's house, I decided that much as I valued my friends, I wanted to read Bran's letter alone.
No one followed me as I walked out. Behind, I heard Oria saying, in a voice very different from what I was used to hearing from her, "Come, Master Jerrol, there's some good ale here, and I'll make you some bread and cheese…"
As I walked up to my room, I reflected on the fact that I did want to read it alone, and not have whatever it said read from my face. Then there was the fact that they all let me go off alone without a word said, though I knew they wanted to know what was in it.
It's that invisible barrier again, I thought, feeling peculiar. We can work all day at the same tasks, bathe together at the village bathhouse, and sit down together at meals, but then something comes up and suddenly I'm the Astiar and they are the vassals…just as at the village dances all the best posies and the finest plates are brought to me, but the young men all talk and laugh with the other girls.
Was this, then, to be my life? To always feel suspended midway between the aristocrat and the vassal traditions, and to belong truly to neither? ~ Sherwood Smith

I walked over to the paper and bent as the pencil began scribbling across it.
You look OK. Are you OK?
"Liz?" A stupid question. Liz was the only poltergeist I knew. But if she was here, that meant. "Chloe?" My heart started thudding again. "Where's Chloe. Did they - ?"
She's outside.
I took a deep breath. "Good. Okay. My dad's there, too?"
I watched the paper. Nothing happened.
"Liz? My dad is with her, right? She called him, didn't she?"
Couldn't.
"What do you mean she couldn't. She has her cell - " No, she didn't. We hadn't taken them into the forest. If Chloe had managed to follow me straight from there ...
I swore. "Tell her to get to a pay phone. Call collect. Get my dad and - "
No time. They're packing the van.
"Then you ride with me. You can find out where we go, and return and Chloe - "
We're getting you out.
"What? No. Absolutely not. Tell Chloe - "
Girls rule :D ~ Kelley Armstrong

Eh? How 'bout that?" Bill nudged her. "Did I promise to show you love or did I promise to show you love?"
"Sure,they seem like they're in love." Luce shrugged. "But-"
"But what?Do you have any idea how painful that is? Look at that guy. He makes getting inked look like being caressed by a soft breeze."
Luce squirmed on the branch. "Is that the lesson here? Pain equals love?"
"You tell me," Bill said. "It may surprise you to hear this,but the ladies aren't exactly banging down Bill's door."
"I mean,if I tattooed Daniel's same on my body would that mean I loved him more than I already do?"
"It's a symbol,Luce." Bill let out a raspy sigh. "You're being too literal. Think about it this way: Daniel is the first good-looking boy LuLu has ever seen. Until he washed ashore a few months ago, this girl's whole world was her father and a few fat natives."
"She's Miranda," Luce said, remembering the love story from The Tempest, which she'd read in her tenth-grade Shakespeare seminar.
"How very civilized of you!" Bill pursed his lips with approval. "They are liek Ferdinand and Miranda: The handsome foreigner shipwrecks on her shores-"
"So,of course it was love at first sight for LuLu," Luce murmured. This was what she was afraid of: the same thoughtless,automatic love that had bothered her in Helston.
"Right," Bill said. "She didn't have a choice but to fall for him.But what's interesting here is Daniel. You see, he didn't have to teach he ~ Lauren Kate

His hand slid from under his desk and slowly moved up my leg until his fingers grazed my inner thigh. He couldn't just pull something sexy and think that I'd forgive him that easily.I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly, turning my head ever so slightly toward his. "Stop it.We're not doing this here."
He pulled his hand out of my grip. "Geez, Red. No need to be so touchy.""You were the one being touchy," I whispered. "And now I
need to pay attention to our lecture.""Come on, Red. I thought we were good."One of the girls in front of us turned her head sharply. "Will you two either quit talking or take it
outside? Some of us are trying to listen," she hissed.
"Mind your own damn business," I pushed back.
She huffed and then turned around to face the front again.
"Ouch! Feisty and I like it," John said through a laugh. ~ Magan Vernon

Rider scooped Willow into his arms and carried her outside to the nearest tree, Miriam right behind him.
Awkwardly shifting his burden, he sat in the shade and settled Willow in his lap. "Mrs. Brigham, could you lend me a hand?" he asked anxiously. "I think we should loosen her clothing or something."
Rider propped Willow's limp form over one arm, giving Miriam access to the back of the girl's dress. As the corset came into view, he snorted in disgust. "Unlace that contraption, too. No wonder she fainted; she can't breathe."
Miriam looked aghast. "Oh, but I can't do that! It wouldn't be decent."
"She's wearing something under it, isn't she?"
"Well, yes, but--"
"Good God, I'll do it myself!" His free hand produced a small knife from his pants pocket. The blade flashed and before Miriam could stop him, the corset ribbons were severed.
Immediately, Willow inhaled deeply. Rider shifted her back into the bend of his arm and gently patted her cheeks. "Come on, little girl, open those big blue eyes."
Inhaling another deep breath, Willow gradually came around. She blinked at the leafy roof overhead, then focused a confused gaze on Rider's smiling face. "What happened? How did I get out here?" Glancing around, she impatiently brushed a few errant strands of hair from her eyes.
"Oh, my dear, you fainted," Miriam fussed.
"Fainted! I've never fainted in my life. I'm not the fainting kind."
"Maybe not under normal circumstances," Ride ~ Charlotte McPherren

When I arrived Dad was at home. He was in the laundry room at the bottom of the house. He turned to me, anger in every movement.

"I picked you some flowers," I said.

He reached out with his hand, took them, and threw them in the large sink.

"Little girls pick flowers," he said.

He was right. And he was probably ashamed of me. Once some of his colleagues had come home and they had seen me on the stairs, with my blond hair quite long, because it was winter, and I was wearing red long johns.

"What a nice girl you've got," one of them said.

"It's a boy," Dad answered. He had smiled, but I knew him well enough to know the comment had not gladdened his heart.

There was my interest in clothes, my crying if I didn't get the shoes I wanted, my crying if it was too cold when we were in the boat on the sea, indeed my crying if he raised his voice in situations when it would have been absolutely normal to raise your voice. Was it so strange he thought: what kind of son have I got here?

I was a mama's boy, he was constantly telling me. I was, too. I longed for her. And no one was happier than I when she moved back for good at the end of the month. ~ Karl Ove Knausgaard

One of the things I want ... all the kids here to remember, is that these [Major League Soccer] stars were not born superstar athletes ... Many of them started out just like many of you-playing on a team at school, or just kicking a ball around on the playground with their friends. But they stuck with it. And I tell this to my girls all the time. I mean, you get to the point when ... things you enjoy ... start getting hard-that's when you know you're getting good, and you have to stick through it. ~ Michelle Obama

Oh," Jace said carelessly, as if he hadn't been waiting out here for the express purpose of seeing Simon off. He looked up, golden gaze casual, then looked away. "You."
Being too cool for school was Jace's thing. Simon supposed he must have understood and been fond of it, once.
"Hey, I figured I wasn't going to get the chance to ask this again. You and me," Simon said. "We're pretty tight, aren't we?"
Jace looked at him for a moment, face very still, and then bounded to his feet and said: "Absolutely. We're like this." He crossed two of his fingers together. "Actually, we're more like this." He tried to cross them again. "We had a little bit of initial tension, as you may later recall, but that was all cleared up when you came to me and confessed that you were struggling with your feelings of intense jealousy over my - these were your words - stunning good looks and irresistible charm."
"Did I," said Simon.
Jace clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, buddy. I remember it clearly."
"Okay, whatever. The thing is … Alec's always really quiet around me," Simon said. "Is he just shy, or did I tick him off and I don't remember it? I wouldn't like to go away without trying to make things right."
Jace's expression took on that peculiar stillness again. "I'm glad you asked me that," he said finally. "There is something more going on. The girls didn't want me to tell you, but the truth is - ~ Cassandra Clare

When I was sixteen, I had just two things on my mind - girls and cars. I wasn't very good with girls. So I thought about cars. I thought about girls, too, but I had more luck with cars.
Let's say that when I turned sixteen, a genie had appeared to me. And that genie said, 'Warren, I'm going to give you the car of your choice. It'll be here tomorrow morning with a big bow tied on it. Brand-new. And it's all yours.'
Having heard all the genie stories, I would say, 'What's the catch?' And the genie would answer, 'There's only one catch. This is the last car you're ever going to ge tin your life. So it's got to last a lifetime.'
If that had happened, I would have picked out that car. But, can you imagine, knowing it had to last a lifetime, what I would do with it?
I would read the manual about five times. I would always keep it garaged. If there was the least little dent or scratch, I'd have it fixed right away because I wouldn't want it rusting. I would baby that car, because it would have to last a lifetime.
That's exactly the position you are in concerning your mind and body. You only get one mind and one body. And it's got to last a lifetime. Now, it's very easy to let them ride for many years. But if you don't take care of that mind and that body, they'll be a wreck forty years later, just life the car would be.
It's what you do right now, today, that determines how your mind and body will operate ten, twenty, and thirty years from now. ~ Warren Buffett

I know that you and your girls have been told for years on end that you just don't pass up any opportunities when a man walks your way - he could be The One. But I'm here to tell you that this philosophy is just plain dumb. Women are smart - you all can tell when your friends are lying, you know when your kids are up to no good, co-workers can't get anything past you at
the job. You're quick to let each one of them know that you're not stupid, that you see them coming a mile away, and you're not going to let them play that game with you. But when it comes to your relationships with the opposite sex, all of that goes out the window; you relinquish your power and lose all control over the situation - cede it to any old man who looks at you twice. Just because he happened to look at you twice. ~ Steve Harvey

Where's the bride-to-be?" Beckett held his arms open for Kyle and gave her a gentle hug. "Good on you, Fairy Princess, making an honest man out of my boy here. Jesus was treating him like shit; he was never getting laid. I hope you two have a million damn kids and name them all Beckett, boys or girls."
Kyle returned the hug and smirked. "We might name our dog Beckett, if you're lucky."
Beckett laughed a bit too loudly. He seemed desperate to make up for lost time. ~ Debra Anastasia

Mma Ramotswe had listened to a World Service broadcast on her radio one day which had simply taken her breath away. It was about philosophers who called themselves existentialists and who, as far as Mma Ramotswe could ascertain, lived in France. These French people said that you should just live in a way which made you feel real, and that the real thing to do was the right thing too. Mma Ramotswe had listened in astonishment. You did not have to go to France to meet existentialists, she reflected; there were many existentialists right here in Botswana. Note Mokoti, for example. She had been married to an existentialist herself, without even knowing it. Note, that selfish man who never once put himself out for another--not even for his wife--would have approved of existentialists, and they of him. It was very existentialist, perhaps, to go out to bars every night while your pregnant wife stayed at home, and even more existentialist to go off with girls--young existentialist girls--you met in bars. It was a good life being an existentialist, although not too good for all the other, nonexistentialist people around one. ~ Alexander McCall Smith

Remind me again why I followed you out here?"
Answer: Because curiosity killed the cat, Scarlett. You followed a good-looking stranger out into the dark and look where it got you – on the front porch, in the bitter cold.
"Don't beat yourself up about it – any one of those girls would have followed me out here, too."
Oh brother, he's modest too? "And why do you suppose that is?"
His broad shoulders shrug and damn, he must be freezing his ass off. "Captain of the baseball team. Handsome as fuck. Funny as hell."
"I don't…wow. I don't even know how to respond to that."
He gives me a tight-lipped smile. "It's a lot to take in all at once. ~ Sara Ney

You better keep your mouths shut if you know what's good for you."
Rider strolled up to her, a punch glass in each hand. "What's going on here? You look ready to take on Geronimo."
The girls giggled and moved off across the room. Rider frowned and glanced back at Willow. "Were they making fun of you?"
"Yes." Embarrased, she refrained from commenting on the topic of their taunts. "I'd like to slap their silly smiles off their silly faces," she hissed.
She took a step forward and, for a moment, Rider thought she meant to carry out her threat. He caught her arm. "Whoa, there. ~ Charlotte McPherren

The Doper's Dream

Last night I dreamed I was plugged right in
To a bubblin' hookah so high,
When all of a sudden some Arab jinni
Jump up just a-winkin' his eye.
'I'm here to obey all your wishes,' he told me.
As for words I was trying to grope.
'Good buddy,' I cried, 'you could surely oblige me
By turning me on to some dope!'
With a bigfat smile he took ahold of my hand,
And we flew down the sky in a flash,
And the first thing I saw in the land where he took me
Was a whole solid mountain of hash!
All the trees was a-bloomin' with pink 'n' purple pills,
Whur the Romilar River flowed by,
To the magic mushrooms as wild as a rainbow,
So pretty that I wanted to cry.
All the girls come to greet us, so sweet in slow motion,
Mourning glories woven into their hair,
Bringin' great big handfuls of snowy cocaine,
All their dope they were eager to share.
We we dallied for days, just a-ballin' and smokin',
In the flowering Panama Red,
Just piggin' on peyote and nutmeg tea,
And those brownies so kind to your head.
Now I could've passed that good time forever,
And I really was fixing to stay,
But you know that jinni turned out, t'be a narco man,
And he busted me right whur I lay.
And he took me back to a cold, cold world
'N' now m'prison's whurever I be...
And I dream of the days back in Doperland
And I wonder, will I ever go fr ~ Thomas Pynchon

You're right," Jacks said. "You're not part of my world. You're not one of those girls. And maybe that's why."
"Why what?"
"Why I can't stop thinking about you."
Maddy rolled her eyes. "Guys like you don't say that to girls like me."
"I've never said that to anyone, actually," Jacks corrected. "In fact, I've never done anything like this before." He let out a little laugh. "How am I doing?"
He swallowed hard, trying to push down his nervousness. He was astonished to realize he was nervous. Somehow being around Maddy just put him in a different space. Jacks felt so present.
Maddy stared at him, letting the anger and frustration surge through her.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked finally.
He paused, considering.
"I'm being honest. I know you may not believe me. But I haven't been able to not think about you. When we were in the back at the restaurant, and . . ." Jacks's voice trailed off, his face coloring. "I still feel terrible about what I did. I lied to you and, even though I had good reasons for it, it was wrong of me."
Maddy studied him. Was he telling the truth?
Jacks smiled. "I mean this in the best possible way: I'm not going to leave you alone until you let me make it up to you. I'm serious. I'll be here every night. You might as well get me some pajamas and a toothbrush."
Despite her best efforts not to, Maddy laughed. She looked at Jacks and could see the faintest twinkle of light ~ Scott Speer

She turned back to her sandwich. And here, of all things, was desire again. (She could have put the palm of her hand to the front of his white shirt.) Here was her chicken sandwich and her tea and the waitress with a hard life in her eyes and a pretty face disappearing into pale flesh asking if there's anything else for now, dear. Here was the boudoir air of respectable Schrafft's with its marble counters and pretty lamps and lunchtime bustle (ten minutes until she should be back at her desk), perfume and smoke, with the war over and another life begun and mad April whipping through the streets again. And here she was at thirty, just out of church (a candle lit every lunch hour, still, although the war was over), and yearning now with every inch of herself to put her hand to the worn buckle at a stranger's waist, a palm to his smooth belly. A man she'd never see again. Good luck. ~ Alice McDermott

You're wearing a bow tie," I said necessarily.
He glanced over at me. "Mom said I had to dress up for this."
I heard a low snort of laughter coming through the open window above the sink.
And I knew.
I stalked over to the window and looked outside.
There, sitting spread out on the grass, were the rest of the Bennetts.
Goddamn fucking werewolves.
"Hello, Ox," Elizabeth said without a jint of shame. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"I will deal with you late," I said.
Ooh," Carter said. "I actually got chills from that."
"We're just here for support," Kelly said. "And to laugh at how embarrassing Joe is."
"I heard that!" Joe shouted from behind me.
I banged my head on the windowsill.
"Maggie," Joe said. Then, "May I call you Maggie?"
"Sure." My mother sound like she was enjoying this. The traitor. "You can call me Maggie."
"Good," Joe glanced down at his card berfore looking back up at my mother. " There comes a time in every werewolf's life when he is of age to make certain decisions about his future."
I wondered if I threw something at him if it'd distract him enough for me to drag him out of the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder out the window. Cater waved at me. Like an asshole.
"My future," Joe said, "is Ox."
Ah god, that made me ache. "Is that so?" Mom asked. "How do you figure?" "He's really nice," Joe said seriously. "And smells good. And he makes me happy. And I want to do nothing more t ~ T.J. Klune

Why then are we here? Would God keep His children out of paradise a single moment longer than was necessary? Why is the army of the living God still on the battlefield when one charge might give them the victory? Why are His children still wandering hither and thither through a maze, when a solitary word from His lips would bring them into the centre of their hopes in heaven? The answer is - they are here that they may "live unto the Lord," and may bring others to know His love. We remain on earth as sowers to scatter good seed; as ploughmen to break up the fallow ground; as heralds publishing salvation. We are here as the "salt of the earth," to be a blessing to the world. - Charles Spurgeon, Morning and Evening ~ Larissa Murphy

Mr. Offerman clasps his hand on top of hers. "It's a good hobby for you, dear. It gets you out of the kitchen."
I straighten my spine. Are we in the fifties here? "Out of the kitchen? ~ Lauren Blakely

When you live your life doing the things that turn you on, that you're good at, that bring you joy, that make you shove stuff in people's faces and scream, "check this out!!!" you walk around so lit up that you shoot sunbeams out of yer eyeballs. Which automatically lights up the world around you. Which is precisely why you are here: to shine your big-ass ball of fire onto this world of ours. A world that literally depends upon light to survive. You ~ Jen Sincero

What happened is I was going to college in 1950. L. A. City College. A guy I knew was going to an acting class on Thursday nights. He started telling me about all the good-lookin' chicks and said, "Why don't you go with me?" So I probably had some motivation beyond thoughts of being an actor. And sure enough, he was right. There were a lot of girls and not many guys. I said, "Yeah, they need me here." I wound up at Universal as a contract player. ~ Clint Eastwood

Hey, and the rock star is here too! How you doing, son?"
"Hey, Mr. Rossi. Thanks for having me today. I'm doing great. How have you been?" I answered.
He lowered his gaze and stepped closer to me. "Good, good, son. I'm sure glad that everything was settled and you didn't have anything to do with hurting our Gracie. Lea told me that you were the one to help her when that son of a bitch got his hands on her. We're forever in your debt, Shane. I knew you couldn't have hurt her." He slid in front of the dining room chair at the head of the table, and sat down, leaning back with his arms folded across his chest. A serious expression crossed his features, "So did anybody get the son of a bitch, yet? Or am I going to have to make some calls ... " Holy shit, it's like the Godfather. ~ Christine Zolendz

An elder sister came from the town to visit her younger sister in the country. This elder sister was married to a merchant and the younger to a peasant in the village. The two sisters sat down for a talk over a cup of tea and the elder started boasting about the superiority of town life, with all its comforts, the fine clothes her children wore, the exquisite food and drink, parties and visits to the theatre.
The younger sister resented this and in turn scoffed at the life of a merchant's wife and sang the praise of her own life as a peasant.
'I wouldn't care to change my life for yours,' she said. 'I admit mine is dull, but at least we have no worries. You live in grander style, but you must do a great deal of business or you'll be ruined. You know the proverb, "Loss is Gain's elder brother." One day you are rich and the next you might find yourself out in the street. Here in the country we don't have these ups and downs. A peasant's life may be poor, but it's long. Although we may never be rich, we'll always have enough to eat.'
Then the elder sister said her piece.
'Enough to eat but nothing but those filthy pigs and calves! What do you know about nice clothes and good manners! However hard your good husband slaves away you'll spend your lives in the muck and that's where you'll die. And the same goes for your children.'
'Well, what of it?' the younger answered. 'That's how it is here. But at least we know where we are. We don't have to crawl to an ~ Leo Tolstoy

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

No sex?" He looked at me in disbelief. "Well if you can't have ze sex, what can you do?"
For the sake of simplicity I took my left arm and lined it up just under my collarbones. "Nothing below here," I said. I took my right arm and lined it up to my knees. "Nothing above here."
"What about your armpit?" he asked. "Can your boyfriend do anything he wants to your armpit?"
I thought about it. Armpits seemed pretty harmless. "Yeah," I said optimistically. "My boyfriend can do anything he wants to my armpit."
"This is good," the Frenchman said. "He can stick his penis in and out of your armpit, and if you grow hair there it is almost like vagine."
Is it too late to change my answer? I wondered, pulling a cardigan over my bare shoulders and covering any hint of an invitation. ~ Elna Baker

I was astonished to see Adrian watching me, a look of contentment on his face. His eyes seemed to study my every feature. Seeing me notice him, he immediately looked away. His usual smirky expression replaced by a dreamy one.
"The mechanic will wait," he said.
"Yeah, but I'm supposed to meet Brayden soon, I'll be-" That's when I got a good look at Adrian. "What have you done? Look at you! You shouldn't be out here."
"It's not that bad."
He was lying, and we both knew it.
"Come on, we have to get you out of here before you get worse. What were you thinking?"
His expression was astonishingly nonchalant for someone who looked like he would pass out. "It was worth it. You looked ... happy ~ Richelle Mead

You mean you to tell me you don't eat fish?" Rayna barks. "I told you, Galen! How many times did I tell you?"
"Rayna, be quiet," he says without looking at her.
"We're wasting our time here!" She slams her fork down.
"Rayna, I said-"
"Oh, I heard what you said. And it's about time you listened to someone else for a change."
Now would be a good time to blackout. Or ten minutes ago, before they unveiled the seafood surprise. But I don't even feel remotely dizzy. Or tired. In fact, Rayna's ranting seems to be igniting a weird charge in the room, sparking some sort of hidden energy all around us. So when Galen stands so fast his chair falls over, I'm not surprised. I stand, too.
"Leave, Rayna. Right now," he grinds out.
When Rayna stands, Toraf does, too. He keeps his expression neutral. I get the feeling he's used to outbursts like these. "You're just using her as a distraction from your real responsibilities, Galen," she spits. "And now you've risked us all. For her."
"You were aware of the risks before you came, Rayna. If you feel exposed, leave," Galen says coolly.
Responsibilities? Exposed? I'm waiting for someone to admit they're part of some violet-eye cult, and I didn't make initiation. "I guess I don't understand," I say.
"Oh, well, that's a real shocker, isn't it?" Rayna says. ~ Anna Banks

But Nietzsche's tragedy is found here once again. The aims, the prophecies are generous and universal, but the doctrine is restrictive, and the reduction of every value to historical terms leads to the direst consequences. Marx thought that the ends of history, at least, would prove to be moral and rational. That was his Utopia. But Utopia, at least in the form he knew it, is destined to serve cynicism, of which he wanted no part. Marx destroys all transcendence, then carries out, by himself, the transition from fact to duty. But his concept of duty has no other origin but fact. The demand for justice ends in injustice if it is not primarily based on an ethical justification of justice; without this, crime itself one day becomes a duty. When good and evil are reintegrated in time and confused with events, nothing is any longer good or bad, but only either premature or out of date. Who will decide on the opportunity, if not the opportunist? Later, say the disciples, you shall judge. But the victims will not be there to judge. For the victim, the present is the only value, rebellion the only action. Messianism, in order to exist, must construct a defense against the victims. It is possible that Marx did not want this, but in this lies his responsibility which must be examined, that he incurred by justifying, in the name of the revolution, the henceforth bloody struggle against all forms of rebellion. ~ Albert Camus

You probably know why I'm here. If you could hear me, talk to me, you'd probably ask me what the hell took me so long. Then you'd tell me what's been in my heart for months now. I know you'd want me to be happy, and I am. When you left, I thought you'd taken everything I had with you. Dex helped me see how wrong I was. You left everything there for me to give to someone else crazy enough to love me. I'll never forget you, Gabe." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long chain, the small dog tags clinking together. Sloane didn't bother to hide the tears in his eyes. He smiled and let out a shaky breath before placing the dog tags on the tombstone. He put his fingers to his lips for a kiss before moving them to the black marble. "Good bye, sweetheart. Thank you for everything." Sloane ~ Charlie Cochet

I don't think that the despiritualised, dehumanised culture in which we live, the McDonalds and Disney culture, does our internal lives, our mythological lives, any favours at all. In other words, to be an Outsider in this culture now is to be looking inside at a plastic world, and I think it's easier to critique that world if I don't belong to it ... In Hollywood where I live now, there's a lot of having lunches, a lot of going to parties ... and I will have no part of that. I'm certainly not very good at it, I don't like it and I feel a little weird about it. I don't want to be part of the problem, I want to be a part of the solution, and the only way I can help solve the problem of the plasticity of our world is by writing, by painting and by making my work, so I stay where I can do that, which is at my desk, in my studio. I will venture out when I need to sell a book or exhibit my paintings, but the rest of the time my job is to be here and imagine. ~ Clive Barker

God is the ultimate recycler. We have a good planet here. It has its troubles, yes. We have overpopulation, we have pollution, we have global warming, we have the Thursday night television lineup," more laughter, "and, of course, we have the infected. We have a lot of problems on Earth, and it might seem like a great idea to hold the Rapture now - why wait? Let's move on to Heaven, and leave the trials and tribulations of our earthly existence behind us. Let's get while the getting's good, and beat the rush.

"It might seem like a great idea, but I don't think it is, for the same reason I don't think it's a great idea for a first grader to stand up and say that he's learned enough, he's done with school, thanks a lot but he's got it from here. Compared to God, we're barely out of kindergarten, and like any good teacher, I don't believe He intends to let us out of class just because we're finding the lessons a little difficult. I don't know whether I believe in the Rapture or not. I believe that if God wants to do it, He will… but I don't believe that it's coming in our lifetime. We have too much work left to do right here. ~ Mira Grant

For years we've used the bases analogy - with intercourse being the "ultimate sex" even though that's probably not going to feel good to girls. That model doesn't let you say "I like it at second base, maybe I'll stay here." ~ Peggy Orenstein

Why isn't the door locked? You should be more careful!"
He winced at the sight of Kellan hugging his knees to his chest and staring at him with wide eyes. His voice must have come out louder than he'd intended.
"Is it because of the dragons? I didn't think a lock could keep out any witches."
Vic rubbed his forehead. Why did I ever tell him that? Then again, it wasn't as if he could avoid them if he stayed in town. Vic's chest tightened. He has to stay.
"I already explained that you have nothing to fear from our dragons and witches. We're all good folk here."
"I know, I'm sorry. But Finn used to tell me horrible stories about them. After mom and dad died, he said if I didn't do everything he told me to do, he'd cut off my ears and sell me to the witches."
Vic crossed his arms as he ground his teeth. He took a couple deep breaths before responding. No need to scare him any more than I already have ~ M.M. Wilde

Here are the world's first brothers, Abel and Cain, sons of Adam and Eve. They lived when the world was young, when everything was much different than it is today. It was before the days of income tax and smog and clogged highways and the terrible problems we struggle with. Yet, despite the fact that they enjoyed what we call "the simple life," they longed for something better, they hungered after God. For no matter how good life is, it is never good enough if you do not have God. Man is never satisfied without Him, and these boys hungered for God. Both had been told the way by which they could come to Him; this is implied in the account. But Cain chose to believe a lie, the lie that is still very evident today, that "one way is as good as another." He took the way that was easiest for him to work out and as a result he was rejected; for, of course, it is always a lie that one way is as good as another. That never works in anything- nature, life, or with God. ~ Ray C. Stedman

And what do you know, John's hands flew through the positions
of ASL in various l-got-this combinations.
"Is he deaf" the guy behind the cash register asked in a stage
whisper. As if someone using American Sign Language was some kind
of freak.
"No. Blind."
"Oh."
As the man kept staring, Qhuinn wanted to pop him. "You going
to help us out here or what?"
"Oh ... yeah. Hey, you got a tattoo on your face." Mr. Observant
moved slowly, like the bar codes on those bags were creating some kind of wind resistance under his laser reader. "Did you know that?"
Really. "I wouldn't know."
'Are you blind, too?"
No filter on this guy. None. "Yeah, I am."
"Oh, so that's why your eyes are all weird."
"Yeah. That's right."
Qhuinn took out a twenty and didn't wait for change-murder
was just a liiiiiittle too tempting. Nodding to John, who was also measuring the dear boy for a shroud, Qhuinn went to walk off.
"What about your change ?" the man called out.
"I'm deaf, too. I can't hear you."
The guy yelled more loudly, "I'll just keep it then, yeah?"
"Sounds good," Qhuinn shouted over his shoulder.
Idiot was stage-five stupid. Straight up. ~ J.R. Ward