Tu Que Revistas Mi Perfil Quotes

Now, I believe the best way for you to learn is immersion and since we can't teleport you all to France," he grinned at me, and there were once again sighs from the girls. "I'll be speaking only in French and will expect you to do the same. Is anyone here already proficient in the language?" I narrowed my eyes at him. He knew darn well I was fluent in French and several other languages. "Eveline, I believe your dad mentioned at dinner the other night that you are?"

What was he doing? "Umm. Yes-"

He shook his head at me. "En français s'il vous plait." More sighs from the class. I clenched my jaw and spoke rapidly. "Oui, Monsieur Smith. Je parle français. Qu'est-ce que tu veux?" Yes, Mr.Smith. I speak French. What do you want?

His eyes smoldered and caressed my face as he delivered his swift reply, "Je veux plus de toi que vous imaginez, ma petit lueur. ~ Heather Self

Que je croie. Que tu croies. Qu'il ou qu'elle croie. She said it over and over, like it wasn't a verb so much as a a Buddhist mantra. Que je croie. Que tu croies. Qu'il ou qu'elle croie. What a funny thing to say over and over again: I would believe; you would believe; he or she would believe. Believe what? I thought, and right then, the rain came. ~ John Green

Whatever you want," he said. "Will you please come here now?"
I slipped a piece of protective tissue over my drawing and flipped the book closed. A piece of blue scratch paper slid out, the line I'd copied from Edward;s poetry book. "Hey. Translate for me, Monsieur Bainbridge."
I set the sketchbook on my stool and joined him on the chaise. He tugged me onto his lap and read over his head. "'Qu'ieu sui avinen, leu lo sai.' 'That I am handsome, I know."
"Verry funny."
"Very true." He grinned. "The translation. That's what it says. Old-fashionedly."
I thought of Edward's notation on the page, the reminder to read the poem to Diana in bed, and rolled my eyes. You're so vain.I bet you think this song is about you..."Boy and their egos."
Alex cupped my face in his hands. "Que tu est belle, tu le sais."
"Oh,I am not-"
"Shh," he shushed me, and leaned in.
The first bell came way too soon. I reluctantly loosened my grip on his shirt and ran my hands over my hair. He prompty thrust both hands in and messed it up again. "Stop," I scolded, but without much force.
"I have physics," he told me. "We're studying weak interaction."
I sandwiched his open hand between mine. "You know absolutely nothing about that."
"Don't be so quick to accept the obvious," he mock-scolded me. "Weak interaction can actually change the flavor of quarks."
The flavor of quirks, I thought, and vaguely remembered something about being charmed. I'd sat ~ Melissa Jensen

Haz decisiones basada en tu conciencia porque al final del dia tu sola eres la que enfrentaras tus demonios.

Make decisions based on your conscience because at the end of the day you're the one that will face your demons ~ Isabel Ramos

Open it at that sad madrigal that begins "Que m'importe que tu sois sage? Sois belle! et sois triste" and you will find yourself worshiping sorrow as you never worshiped joy. ~ Oscar Wilde

"Esa chica esta bien caliente." Hector laughed as Rider shook his head. Ainsley stiffened across from me. She was pretty fluent in Spanish and even though Hector was Puerto Rican, I had a feeling she was getting the general gist of whatever he was saying and she was not happy about it. "Me gustaria a llevarla a mi casa y comermela."
Ainsley cocked her head to the side as she brushed her long, blond hair over her shoulder. "Gracias! Pero no hay ni una parte de mi que tu te vas a comer."
Hector's eyes widened.
Rider threw his head back and burst into laughter. "Oh, shit. Priceless."
"What?" Ainsley blinked big eyes at the stunned Hector. "You think some white chick can't possibly understand another language so you're going to sit in front of me and talk about me like I'm not here?" Her smile was brittle and fake. "Bitch, please."
"Man..." Hector sat back, slowly shaking his head as he stared at her. "You're...brutal."
"Damn straight," she replied, her eyes like chips of blue ice. Whatever yumminess she'd seen in Hector was completely out the window now. "And you're a mal criado."
Hector's eyes narrowed.
"I really like your friend, Mouse." Still chuckling, Rider winked at me. "She basically called him a classless ass, and I agree. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Garde-toi, tant que tu vivras, De juger des gens sur la mine. Beware as long as you live, Of judging others according to appearance alone. ~ Jean De La Fontaine

« Demain, dès l'aube… »


Demain, dès l'aube, à l'heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m'attends.
J'irai par la forêt, j'irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l'or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j'arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.


Tomorrow, At Dawn
Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens,
I will set out. You see, I know that you wait for me.
I will go by the forest, I will go by the mountain.
I can no longer remain far from you.

I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts,
Seeing nothing of outdoors, hearing no noise
Alone, unknown, my back curved, my hands crossed,
Sorrowed, and the day for me will be as the night.

I will not look at the gold of evening which falls,
Nor the distant sails going down towards Harfleur,
And when I arrive, I will place on your tomb
A bouquet of green holly and of flowering heather ~ Victor Hugo

Qui donc t'a donne la mission s'annoncer au peuple que la divinite n'existe pas? Quel avantage trouves-tu a persuader a l'homme qu'une force aveugle preside a ses destinees et frappe au hasard le crime et la vertu? (Who then invested you with the mission to announce to the people that there is no God? What advantage find you in persuading man that nothing but blind force presides over his destinies, and strikes haphazard both crime and virtue?) - ROBESPIERRE, "DISCOURS," MAI 7, 1794. ~ Edward Bulwer-Lytton

There's always a prayer, a nighean, even if it's only A Dhia, cuidich mi. Oh, God - help me. ~ Diana Gabaldon

Scrape knees for love. Tell hard truths for love. And definitely run heart-first into the unknown for love. Try to have a plan. But if you don't, make sure you have people. You coming, mi gente? ~ Gabby Rivera

The true blessing of the mountains is not that they provide a challenge or a contest, something to be overcome and dominated (although this is how many people have approached them). It is that they offer something gentler and infinitely more powerful: they make us ready to credit marvels - whether it is the dark swirl which water makes beneath a plate of ice, or the feel of the soft pelts of moss which form on the lee sides of boulders and trees. Being in the mountains reignites our astonishment at the simplest transactions of the physical world: a snowflake a millionth of an ounce in weight falling on to one's outstretched palm, water patiently carving a runnel in a face of granite, the apparently motiveless shift of a stone in a scree-filled gully. Tu put a hand down and feel the ridges and score in a rock where a glaciers has passed, to hear how a hillside comes alive with moving water after a rain shower, to see late summer light filling miles of landscape like an inexhaustible liquid - none of these is a trivial experience. Mountains returns to us priceless capacity for wonder which can so insensibly be leached away by modern existence, and they urge us to apply that wonder to our own everyday lives. ~ Robert Macfarlane

My first modeling job in Paris, the photographer said, 'Tue es belle,' which means, 'you are pretty,' and I thought he said, 'Tu es poubelle,' which means, 'you are the trash can.' I burst into tears. He was not happy about that. ~ Rachel Nichols

We all go Do, Re, Mi, but you've gotta find all the other notes yourself. ~ Louis Armstrong

You think me cruel."
"No." Magiano hesitates for a long moment. "Maybe a little."
"I'm not branding them because I am cruel," I say calmly. "I'm doing it as a reminder of what they've done to us. To the marked. You're so quick to forget."
"I never forget," Magiano replies. This time, there is a slight sharpness to his tone. His hand hovers near his side, where his childhood wound continues to plague him. "But branding the unmarked with your crest will not make them any more loyal to you."
"It makes them fear me."
"Fear works best with some love," Magiano says. "Show them that you can be terrifying, yet generous." The gold bands in his braids clink. "Let the people love you a little, mi Adelinetta. ~ Marie Lu

I learned a new phrase today while you were away." She turned in his arms and then placed her hand on his chest. Her gaze lowered, suddenly shy. "Mi sei mancato molto." (I missed you so much)
Sometimes it was acceptable for comfort and need to collide. He leaned down and kissed her, a kiss to seal his promises, a kiss that meant they were going to miss their evening meal. ~ Elizabeth Elliott

I fancy my father thought me an odd child, and had little fondness for me; though he was very careful in fulfilling what he regarded as a parent's duties. But he was already past the middle of life, and I was not his only son. My mother had been his second wife, and he was five-and-forty when he married her. He was a firm, unbending, intensely orderly man, in root and stem a banker, but with a flourishing graft of the active landholder, aspiring to county influence: one of those people who are always like themselves from day to day, who are uninfluenced by the weather, and neither know melancholy nor high spirits. I held him in great awe, and appeared more timid and sensitive in his presence than at other times; a circumstance which, perhaps, helped to confirm him in the intention to educate me on a different plan from the prescriptive one with which he had complied in the case of my elder brother, already a tall youth at Eton. My brother was to be his representative and successor; he must go to Eton and Oxford, for the sake of making connexions, of course: my father was not a man to underrate the bearing of Latin satirists or Greek dramatists on the attainment of an aristocratic position. But intrinsically, he had slight esteem for "those dead but sceptred spirits"; having qualified himself for forming an independent opinion by reading Potter's Aeschylus, and dipping into Francis's Horace. To this negative view he added a positive one, derived from a recent connexion with mi ~ George Eliot

Listen with your eyes because here you cannot decipher what is said out of the effort of mouths. ~ Myung Mi Kim

[After a period of separation, Phaeton and Daphne are cuddling.]

Diomedes, meanwhile, was leaning to look behind Helion, staring with open fascination at the display Phaethon and Daphne made. "I have not seen non-parthenogenic bioforms before. Are they going to copulate?"

Atkins and Helion looked at him, then looked at each other. A glance of understanding passed between them.

Atkins put his hand on Diomedes's elbow, and pulled him back in front of Helion. "Perhaps not at this time," Atkins said, straight-faced.

"They are young and in love," explained Helion, stepping so as to block Diomedes's view. "So perhaps the excesses and, ah, exuberance of their, ah, greeting, can be overlooked this once."

Diomedes craned his neck, trying to peer past Helion. "There's nothing like that on Neptune."

Helion murmured, "Perhaps certain peculiarities of the Neptunian character are thereby clarified, hmm…?"

"It looks very old-fashioned," said Diomedes.

Helion said, "It is that most ancient and most precious romantic character of mankind which impels all great men to their greatness."

Atkins said, "It's what young men do before they go to war."

Diomedes said, "It is not the way Cerebellines or Compositions or Hermaphrodites or Neptunians arrange these matters. I'm not sure I see the value of it. But it looks interesting. Do all Silver-Gray get to do that? I wonder if Phaethon would mi ~ John C. Wright

1945-1990 - Russophobia
1990-2015 - Islamophobia
2015- ?? - Russophobia AND Islamophobia.
Isnt it time the MI Complex created a new bogey-man? ~ Arindam Mukherjee

Mi hijito, I've told you a thousand times, if you speak badly of people, God will punish you and make you just like them. ~ Victor Villasenor

Source: http://pijamasurf.com/2013/02/y-tu-de... ~ Anonymous

Who will marry me? No one wants a girl who is not a virgin."
"I will. I'll marry you."
"Ma non posso sposarti."
"And why can't you marry me?"
"Perché sei pazzo!"
"And why am I crazy?"
"Perché vuoi sposarmi."
"Because I want to marry you. Carina, ti amo," he explained, and he drew her gently back down to the pillow. "Te amo molto."
"Tu sei pazzo," she murmured in reply, flattered.
"Perché?"
"Because you say you love me. How can you love a girl who is not a virgin?"
"Because I can't marry you."
She bolted right up again in a threatening rage. "Why can't you marry me?" she demanded, ready to clout him again if he gave an uncomplimentary reply. "Just because I am not a virgin?"
"No, no darling. Because you're crazy. ~ Joseph Heller

And I thanked mi papa who'd always said to me that we, los Indios, the Indians, were like the weeds. That roses you had to water and giver fertilizer or they'd die. But weeds, indigenous plants, you gave them nada-nothing; hell you even poisoned them and put concrete over them, and those weeds would still break the concrete, ~ Victor Villasenor

He sank to his knees.
"I don't know how to handle this. I don't know what you want from me. Quoi tu veux," he murmured, over and over, until the whirring noise slowed and his fingers curled deep into the mud.

~Remy ~ Sydney Croft

Having witnessed in his own life much agony and the horrors of war, Kepler concluded that Earth really created two notes, mi for misery ("miseria" in Latin) and fa for famine ("fames" in Latin). In Kepler's words: "the Earth sings MI FA MI, so that even from the syllable you may guess that in this home of ours Misery and Famine hold sway. ~ Mario Livio

I could never imagine loving myself
I could never imagine a person
behind the image I saw
when I looked into the mirror.
Who is this person? I would wonder
Who is she?
Does she have a name? ~ Mi-ran Isaacs

Lord Cut-Glass, in his kitchen full of time, squats down alone to a dogdish, marked Fido, of peppery fish-scraps and listens to the voices of his sixty-six clocks, one for each year of his loony age, and watches, with love, their black-and-white moony loudlipped faces tocking the earth away: slow clocks, quick clocks, pendulumed heart-knocks, china, alarm, grandfather, cuckoo; clocks shaped like Noah's whirring Ark, clocks that bicker in marble ships, clocks in the wombs of glass women, hourglass chimers, tu-wit-tuwoo clocks, clocks that pluck tunes, Vesuvius clocks all black bells and lava, Niagara clocks that cataract their ticks, old time weeping clocks with ebony beards, clocks with no hands for ever drumming out time
without ever knowing what time it is. His sixty-six singers are all set at different hours. Lord Cut-Glass lives in a house and a life at siege. Any minute or dark day now, the unknown enemy will loot and savage downhill, but they will not catch him napping. Sixty-six different times in his fish-slimy kitchen ping, strike, tick, chime, and tock. ~ Dylan Thomas

Someone who works only for the money will give you trouble one day because of money. ~ Jin Sun Mi

Paul Theroux on Blogging, Travel Writing, and Three Cups of Tea

Speaking of books that contain an element of travel, Greg Mortenson's bestseller about Central Asia was in the news recently. Were you surprised by the allegations that Three Cups of Tea contained fabrications?

No, I wasn't. One of the things The Tao of Travel shows is how unforthcoming most travel writers are, how most travelers are. They don't tell you who they were traveling with, and they're not very reliable about things that happened to them. For example, everyone loved John Steinbeck's book Travels With Charley. Turns out he didn't travel alone, his wife kept meeting him, yet she was never mentioned in the book. Steinbeck didn't go to all the places he mentioned, nor did he meet all the people he said he met. In other words, Travels With Charley is fiction, or at least half-fiction. As for Three Cups of Tea, I think that philanthropists and humanitarians are even less forthcoming about what they do. I guess this guy did build a couple of schools in Afghanistan, but a self-promoting humanitarian is not someone I have a great deal of trust or belief in. I lived for six years in Africa and I've been to Africa numerous times since then. People build schools for their own reasons - not to improve a country.

The people I've known who've done great things of that type - you know, building hospitals, running schools - are very humble people. They give their lives to the project. Mi ~ Paul Theroux

MI FRIEND THE HOLY SPIRIT, IS THE MOST REAL PERSON ~ Luis Vasquez

I don't want to worry anymore thinking about the future. Mi Rae ... 'Mi' meaning not yet. 'Rae' meaning coming. Why should I decide on the present, thinking about the future that's not here yet? I won't do that anymore. ~ Yoon Mi-rae

Well, mi amore, this is awesome news! Let's get right on that," said Kami, and began to undo the buttons of her blouse. She looked down at the red buttons slipping out one by one from the black fabric of her shirt. She only had eight buttons, and there went the fourth. Jared sucked breath out of a horrified void and shouted, "stop that!" He angled himself to protect her from the eyes of a crowd that was not there. He hesitated, possibly because now he had a view directly down into shadows and curves. ~ Sarah Rees Brennan

Oh dios mio, she makes me burn, she makes me need. She is etching herself into mi alma ~ P.T. Macias

- I don't want you to love me.
- Too late, mi chava. ~ Simone Elkeles

Con-tu-ber-nal(noun). One who occupies
the same tent; a tent-fellow, comrade.
The thought of Percy Prewitt as my contubernal causes me to break out in hives.
-From the personal dictionary of
Caroline Trent ~ Julia Quinn

One was an ancient tortoiseshell cat with arthritis, who creaked around the house--but when Aunt Sibby flickered her fingers and crooned, Miminy, miminy, tall-as-a-chi-mi-ny, danced on his hind legs like a kitten. ~ Jane Louise Curry

As they spoke, the only thing I could think about was that scene from Julius Caesar where Brutus stabs him in the back. Et tu, Eric? ~ Nicholas Sparks

YOU
You are that song that plays rarely on the radio,
But when it does I have to sing it out loud…
You are the water that formed a puddle on a rainy day,that I played in,
When I was only eight years old.
You are the first snowfall of the season,
And the reason I like the morning...
You're a single seashell that washed up onto the shore.
You are my set of old medals
Hidden deep in a drawer…
You are the sun, the moon, the stars, and all the planets.
You are the first breath of a baby just born.

Eres una dandelion que encuentro,
I pull, make a wish, then blow.
You are the sunrise that I tried to paint
after I woke up in Eilat.
You give the nights its meaning…
to dream, while others just sleep.
You are my 3rd grade valentine,
Read, frayed and loved a thousand times.
Eres perfección envuelto en humildad…

Eres oro, plata, y diamantes…
Eres mi querido viejito Pooh, que nunca lo abandonare.
You are my first time driving my brother's Impala,
When I was just fourteen.
You are the name hidden deep inside my name…
And I'm the fingers interlaced with yours.
Eres el PS: I love you at the end la carta,
Y yo soy el PS: I love you too.
Somos el principio, el medio y la ultima palabra
De mi libro final.

Eternamente nosotros, nosotros, nosotros…
Porque nosotros siempre es mejor
Que solamente… yo…
YOU ~ Jose N Harris

I pulled the chair up to the bedside and studied his face. He was still pale, but he looked like Edward again. That cold bleakness was back in his eyes when no one but me was looking.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"It couldn't just be because you nearly died," I said.
"No," he said.
I smiled, but he didn't smile back.
"Bernardo came to see me, but Olaf never did," he said.
I realized then what he thought I'd waited around to tell him. "You think I killed Olaf, and I've been waiting for you to get healthy enough to give you the same choice you gave me after Harley died," I laughed. "Sweet Jesus, Edward."
"You didn't kill him." I watched him relax against his pillow, visibly relieved.
"No, I didn't kill him."
I took Olaf's letter out of my back pocket and handed it to him. He read it while I watched his face.
Nothing moved but his eyes. He had no reaction. "He's a good man at your back, Anita."
"You're not suggesting I date Olaf?"
He almost laughed. "No, fuck no. Stay as far away from him as you can. If he comes to St. Louis, kill him. Don't wait for him to deserve it. Just do it."
"I agree someone needs to kill Olaf, but why are you so adamant all of a sudden? You trusted him enough to bring him here to your town."
"Olaf has never had a girlfriend. He's had whores and he's had victims. Maybe it's true love, but I think if he shows up and finds that you won't be his little serial killer pin-up girl, that he'll tu ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

O tyrant love, when held by you,
We may to prudence bid adieu.
[Fr., Amour! Amour! quand tu nous tiens
On peut bien dire, Adieu, prudence.] ~ Jean De La Fontaine

And then the finale, its four modest notes. Do, re, fa, mi: half a jumbled scale. Too simple to be called invented. But the thing spills out into the world like one of those African antelopes that fall from the womb, still wet with afterbirth but already running. ~ Richard Powers

Arrive before your Husband. Not that I can
See quite what good arriving first will do;
But still arrive before him. When he's taken
His place upon the couch and you go too
To sit beside him, on your best behavior
Stealthily touch my foot, and look at me,
Watching my nods, my eyes, my face's language;
Catch and return my signals secretly.
I'll send a wordless message with my eyebrows;
You'll read my fingers' words, words traced in wine.
When you recall our games of love together,
Your finger on rosy cheeks must trace a line.
If in your silent thoughts you wish to chide me,
Let your hand hold the lobe of your soft ear;
When, darling, what I do or say gives pleasure,
Keep turning to an fro the ring you wear.
When you wish well-earned curses on your husband,
Lay your hand on the table, as in prayer.
If he pours you wine, watch out, tell him to drink it;
Ask for what you want from the waiter there.
I shall take next the glass you hand the waiter
And I'll drink from the place you took your sips;
If he should offer anything he's tasted,
Refuse whatever food has touch his lips.
Don't let him plant his arms upon your shoulders,
Don't let him rest your gentle head on his hard chest,
Don't let your dress, your breasts, admit his fingers,
And--most of all--no kisses to be pressed!
You kiss--and I'll reveal myself your lover;
I'll say 'they're mi ~ Ovid

Say it."
"Don't do this to me ... " I whispered painfully. "We can't do this again."
"You're a horrible liar," Eli growled as he pressed his fingers into my thighs. He watched me, his gaze all-consuming, and said, "Your eyes are as dark as a castle moat by midnight, mi cielo. Lower your drawbridge and let me cross; let me in."
"Eli, I-"
"Forget him. For the next hour and a half, you're going to do everything that makes you wonder in this world. And then I'm going to love you again. ~ Nadege Richards