Rena Marks Quotes

Not that the man needed clothes. God meant for that piece of perfection to have nothing masking the luscious, tanned flesh stretched taut over beautiful muscles. ~ Rena Marks

He was lickable sex. ~ Rena Marks

Mma Ramotswe had a gift for the American woman, a basket which on her return journey from Bulawayo she had bought, on impulse, from a woman sitting by the side of the road in Francistown. The woman was desperate, and Mma Ramotswe, who did not need a basket, had bought it to help her. It was a traditional Botswana basket, with a design worked into the weaving.

"These little marks here are tears," she said. "The giraffe gives its tears to the women and they weave them into the basket."

The American woman took the basket politely, in the proper Botswana way of receiving a gift with both hands. How rude were people who took a gift with one hand, as if snatching it from the donor; she knew better.

You are very kind, Mma," she said. "But why did the giraffe give its tears?"

Mma Ramotswe shrugged; she had never thought about it. "I suppose that it means that we can all give something," she said. "A giraffe has nothing else to give--only tears." Did it mean that? she wondered. And for a moment she imagined that she saw a giraffe peering down through the trees, its strange stilt-borne body among the leaves; and its moist velvet cheeks and liquid eyes; and she thought of all the beauty that there was in Africa, and of the laughter, and the love.

The boy looked at the basket. "Is that true, Mma?"

Mma Ramotswe smiled. "I hope so," she said. ~ Alexander McCall Smith

Reading is a very strange thing. We get talked to about it and talk explicitly about it in first grade and second grade and third grade, and then it all devolves into interpretation. But if you think about what's going on when you read, you're processing information at an incredible rate.
One measure of how good the writing is is how little effort it requires for the reader to track what's going on. For example, I am not an absolute believer in standard punctuation at all times, but one thing that's often a big shock to my students is that punctuation isn't merely a matter of pacing or how you would read something out loud. These marks are, in fact, cues to the reader for how very quickly to organize the various phrases and clauses of the sentence so the sentence as a whole makes sense. ~ David Foster Wallace

At his heart, Shakespeare was a YA author. So many of his plays are set with high school-aged characters. He understood the passion, the confusion and drama that marks that life stage. ~ Eric Walters

Samuel George looked closely at the freed Negro facing him and he thought that though the man had the look of being familiar with time he bore none of the marks that time could leave. He was well built and well muscled, carrying his head high. There was gray in his hair, but his face was furrowed more by laughter than by years. ~ Elizabeth Yates

Every successful man must have behind him somewhere tremendous integrity, tremendous sincerity, and that is the cause of his signal success in life. He may not have been perfectly unselfish; yet he was tending towards it. If he had been perfectly unselfish, his would have been as great a success as that of the Buddha or of the Christ. The degree of unselfishness marks the degree of success everywhere. ~ Swami Vivekananda

A comely female inhabiting the Mohammedan Paradise to make things cheery for the good Mussulman, whose belief in her existence marks a noble discontent with his earthly spouse, whom he denies a soul. ~ Ambrose Bierce

Pray, pray, thou who also weepest,
And the drops will slacken so; Weep, weep
and the watch thou keepest, With a quicker count will go. Think,
the shadow on the dial For the nature most undone, Marks the passing of the trial, Proves the presence of the sun. ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Perhaps desire will never be fulfilled. But to live is only worth the effort if you live in hope. ~ Laurie J. Marks

Where now is Britain? . Even as the savage sits upon the stone That marks were stood her capitols, and hears The bittern booming in the weeds, he shrinks From the dismaying solitude. ~ Henry Kirke White

Are we to believe that earth marks the most advanced stage and the most favoured experiment? What, then, can the thought of the universe have done and against what darkness must it have struggled, to have come no farther than this? ~ Maurice Maeterlinck

Fs Are "Fabulous"

Hey, Mom and Dad! I got my grades!
And you'll be thrilled to hear
the marks on our report cards
are changed around this year.
A bunch of kids were telling me
this morning on the bus,
that they had heard some teachers say
that Fs are "fabulous."

And Ds are proudly given out
for work that's "dynamite."
They're used to honor kids like me,
whose brains are really bright.

So C of course is super "cool"-
I've got a few of those.
I wish they could be Ds and Fs,
but that's the way it goes.

I'm pleased to see my teacher
didn't give an A or B.
I've worked too hard for one of those.
Gosh, aren't you proud of me?

I see you don't believe me.
You think that I am lying?
At least you will agree
that I should get an A for trying! ~ Ted Scheu

What makes a good writer of history is a guy who is suspicious. Suspicion marks the real difference between the man who wants to write honest history and the one who'd rather write a good story. ~ Jim Bishop

Some people on bus seats shake at the shoulders,
Stoned Elvises trying to dance after the gig.

Some walk into the rain and look like they're smiling,
Running mascara writes sad bitter letters on their faces.

Some drive their cars into lay-bys or park edges
And cradle the steering-wheel looking like headless drivers.

Some sink their open mouths into feather pillows
And tremble on the bed like beached dolphins.

Some people are bent as question marks when they weep
And some are straight as exclamation marks.

Some are soaking in emotional dew when they wake,
Salt street maps etched into their faces.

Some find rooms and fall to the floor as if praying to Allah.
Noiseless
Faces contorted in that silent scream that seems like laughter.

Why is there not a tissue-giver? A man who looks for tears,
Who makes the finest silk tissues and offers them for free?

It seems to me that around each corner, beneath each stone,
Are humans quietly looking for a place to cry on their own. ~ Lemn Sissay

Griff entered the cave, sword in hand. He had no desire to frighten Astelle, but he had to be prepared for anything.
She jumped up from her fireside position with a small stifled scream at his entry, then continued to back fearfully towards the shadowed wall.
She was quite alone. Griff could sense no other presence – only hers, and the wonder of it. He sheathed his sword, and gazed upon his long-lost love.
Her hair had lost all trace of colour while still retaining the texture of youth, giving the appearance of white silk. There was a pulsating light of a blue-lilac shade which clung to the crown of her head, reflecting in the hair – a soul – a lost spirit – someone who had loved her. She was almost as pale as death, for Torking took far too much blood from her, too frequently. She was also much thinner than she should have been, but for all of this, she was still the most beautiful sight of his life.
Her body was ravaged with Torking's bites and claw-marks. She was still wearing his old cloak which Griff instantly recognised, though it was little more than a rag, wrapped around her body and tied on one shoulder. Her beautiful dark eyes, those which had so haunted his dreams, seemed over-large in her pale face, as she stared at him with a mingling of shock, disbelief and joy.
Griff took a few hesitant steps towards her, unsure of his reception. 'Astelle?' His voice grated with emotion.
How often had she yearned to hear him speak her name exactly ~ Bernie Morris

There are many marks of a true lady but I believe that one of them is to walk with her head held high while her world falls apart around her. ~ Hester Browne

Oily marks appear on walls / Where pleasure moments hung before ~ Imogen Heap

Marlowe grinned. That so? I couldn't disagree more. Is that Nietzsche talking? Ah, the Germans. We have a factory in Germany, you know. Actually, Germany is a fine example, so let's take Germany: They were crushed in the Great War. Their debt was staggering. A pound of bread cost nearly three billion Marks! The Reichsmark was practically worthless - you'd have better luck papering your house with it than trying to buy goods or pay your bills. But Marlowe Industries is going to help them get on their feet. We're going to change the world. ~ Libba Bray

I think country needs to have a sporting culture. I think if sports were taken as curriculum in school and are encouraged in right way like government of Maharashtra and Haryana have done given Marks for Sports and encouraging them with good jobs. ~ Gagan Narang

Honesty, sincerity, and openness, I esteem essential marks of a good mind, ~ David McCullough

The mix of soft-focus glamour,Mills and Boon romance and the inevitable feel-good ending is here, but what marks these films is an authentic core.Genuine, unaffected moments, long absent from 70mm movie content, are back. ~ Anupama Chopra

Textbook intelligence is not true intelligence. It only marks a man good at memorization. ~ Suzy Kassem

He grabbed her around the waist and put her in the center of the bed, then stood and admired her.
"I love you so much, I think there are burn marks on my heart." Blake touched his chest. ~ Debra Anastasia

I showed her how I'd been making tiny cuts in my skin to let the badness and the pain leak out. They were shallow at first, and short, like claw marks made by a desperate cat that wanted to hid under the front porch. Cutting pain was a different flavor of hurt. It made it easier not to think about having my body and my family and my life stolen, made it easier not to care ... ~ Laurie Halse Anderson

So we wait?" asked Severard.
"We wait, and we look to our defences. That and we try to find some money. Do you have any cash, Severard?"
"I did have some. I gave it to a girl, down in the slums."
"Ah. Shame."
"Not really, she fucks like a madman. I'd thoroughly recommend her, if you're interested."
Glokta winced as his knee clicked. "What a thoroughly heartwarming tale, Severard, I never had you down for a romantic. I'd sing a ballad if I wasn't so short of funds."
"I could ask around. How much are we talking about?"
"Oh, not much. Say, half a million marks?"
One of the Practical's eyebrows went up sharply. He reached into his pocket, dug around for a moment, pulled his hand out and opened it. A few copper coins shone in his palm.
"Twelve bits," he said. "Twelve bits is all I can raise. ~ Joe Abercrombie

Let me give you a few simple rules for learning to draw. First, see of what shape the whole thing is. Next, put in the line that marks the movement of the whole. Don't have more than one movement in a figure; you can't patch parts together. Simple lines; then simple values. Establish the fact of the whole. Is it square, oblong, cube, or what is it? ~ William Morris Hunt

As he spoke, he whipped a tape measure and a large round magnifying glass from his pocket. With these two implements he trotted noiselessly about the room, sometimes stopping, occasionally kneeling, and once lying flat upon his face ... As I watched him I was irresistibly reminded of a pure-blooded well-trained foxhound as it dashes backwards and forwards through the covert, whining in its eagerness, until it comes across the lost scent. For twenty minutes or more he continued his researches, measuring with the most exact care the distance between marks which were entirely invisible to me, and occasionally applying his tape to the walls in an equally incomprehensible manner. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

Silk handkerchief that erupted out of the breast pocket, an affectation he had adopted to distance himself from the Westminster hordes in their banal Christmas-stocking ties and Marks & Spencer suits. ~ Michael Dobbs

Did you ever climb into one of those suits of armor?"
"Caine did once-it took me over an hour to pry him out."
Shelby gave a murmur of sympathy as she framed his face with her hands. "You were such a good boy." Her laugh was muffled against his lips in a sudden searing kiss.All heat,all fire, without a moment's warning.
"He climbed in," Alan continued as he tugged her hair back to deepen the kiss, "because I suggested it might be an interesting experience."
Breathless,Shelby stared up at him. When would she be prepared for those sudden dangerous turns of his nature? "An instigator," she managed.
"An objective leader," he corrected before he released her. "And I did manage to get him out...after he'd scared the wits out of Rena."
For a moment she leaned against the wall watching him, while the throbbing in her body slowly, very slowly, lessened. "I don't believe you were nearly as well-mannered as you once told me.You probably deserved that broken nose."
"Caine deserved it more."
Shelby laughed again as they moved down another corridor. "I like your family."
"So do I."
"And you enjoyed watching me go nose-to-nose with your father."
"I've always been fond of drawing-room comedies."
"Drawing room? It's more like a throne room. ~ Nora Roberts

A lot of unemployment, though. We've got two closed factories and a rotting shopping mall that went bankrupt before it ever opened. We're not far from Kentucky, which marks the unofficial border to the South, so one sees more than enough pickup trucks decorated with stickers of Confederate flags and slogans proclaiming their brand of truck is superior to all others. Lots of country music stations, lots of jokes that contain the word "nigger." A sewer system that occasionally backs up into the streets for some unknown reason. Lots and lots of stray dogs around, many with grotesque deformities. ~ David Wong

Beatrice: I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you.
Benedick: What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? ~ William Shakespeare

No religion makes more use of color than Hinduism, with its blue-skinned gods and peony-lipped goddesses, and even the spring festival of Holi is focused on color: Boys squirt arcs of dyed water on passersby or dump powder, all violently hued, on their marks. ~ Hanya Yanagihara