Ugly One Horned Mules Quotes

In the early grey of the morning they reached the headquarter of General Genarius and found him working in a mountain of paperwork. Joey and Maya informed the general in detail about Libertine's report. General Genarius closed his eyes and thought for a long moment until he said, "Wait a minute! Are you telling me that you want to enter the belly of darkness and liberate the mermaids and the unicorns?"
"Yes Sir, we are determined to attack the center of demonic powers and believe in the great opportunity to liberate the mermaids and the unicorns from the cruel grip of the Empire!" Maya said.
"Dangerous, dangerous…but the more I think about it, the more I can see that it could really work. However…this mission has to be well organized and of course…you must find the secret door to the Underworld… in time or you will be in big trouble. It is very risky but I will support this venture! Let me share with you some of my ideas and how this attempt could work. Take your six unicorns, all the equipment you need and leave the city of Selinka as soon as possible with Captain Goran and my assistant Captain Armstrong. You must cross the Thordis River behind the city, stay close to the Lagoon and move directly east from there. Let me take my map and show you exactly the way and… let me talk to Captain Armstrong. He is indeed a man with a strong arm, a clear mind in battle and he knows the way to Duanes Gate very well because his family lives somewhere in that area. ~ Gloria Maradonia

Well then. Let us begin with essentials. Are you free to marry me?" He exhaled slowly, in a pointed effort not to hold his breath.
"Of course. When I come of age, that is."
"Tell me your birthday."
She smiled. "The first of February."
"It will be our wedding day." He traced the shape of the birthmark on her hip. "Very convenient for me, for your birthday and our anniversary to coincide. I'll be more likely to remember both."
"I wish you would stop touching me there."
"Do you? Why?"
"Because it is ugly. I hate it."
He tilted his head, surprised. "I quite adore it. It reminds me that you are imperfectly perfect and entirely mine." He slid down her body and bent to kiss the mark to prove the point. "There's a little thrill in knowing no one else has seen it."
"No other man, you mean." He kissed her there again, this time tracing the shape with his tongue. She squirmed and laughed. "When I was a child, I would scrub at it in the bath. My nursemaid used to tell me, God gives children birthmarks so they won't get lost." Her mouth curled in a bittersweet smile. "Yet here I am, adrift on the ocean on the other side of the world. Don't they call that irony?"
"I believe they call it Providence." He tightened his hands over her waist. "You're here, and I've found you. And I take pains not to lose what's mine."
He kissed her hip again, then slid his mouth toward her center as he settled between her thighs.
"Gray," she protested ~ Tessa Dare

One of the most popular genital surgeries is labia minora reduction. When a similar procedure is performed on healthy girls in some African countries as a coming-of-age rite to control their sexuality, Westerners denounce it as genital mutilation; in the U.S. of A., it's called cosmetic enhancement. But both procedures are based on misogynist notions of female genitalia as ugly, dirty, and shameful. And though American procedures are generally performed under vastly better conditions (with the benefit of, say, anesthesia and antibiotics), the postsurgical results can be similarly horrific, involving loss of sensation, chronic pain, and infection. ~ Julia Scheeres

A lot of the stories were highly suspicious, in her opinion. There was the one that ended when the two good children pushed the wicked witch into her own oven ... Stories like this stopped people thinking properly, she was sure. She'd read that one and thought, Excuse me? No one has an oven big enough to get a whole person in, and what made the children think they could just walk around eating people's houses in any case? And why does some boy too stupid to know a cow is worth a lot more than five beans have the right to murder a giant and steal all his gold? Not to mention commit an act of ecological vandalism? And some girl who can't tell the difference between a wolf and her grandmother must either have been as dense as teak or come from an extremely ugly family. ~ Terry Pratchett

Love is an ugly, terrible business practiced by fools. It'll trample your heart and leave you bleeding on the floor. And what does it really get you in the end? Nothing but a few incredible memories that you can't ever shake. The truth is, there's gonna be other girls out there. I mean, I hope. But I'm never gonna get another first love. That one is always gonna be her. ~ Jennifer Flackett

There was something wrong about thse people. But perhaps, just as it is true of my love, they could not go on living except in the way they do. If it is true that man, once born into the world, must somehow live out his life, perhaps the appearance that people make in order to go through with it, even if it is as ugly as their appearance, should not be despised. To be alive. To be alive. An intolerably immense undertaking before which one can only gasp in apprehension. ~ Osamu Dazai

[T]hese three days of meditation have revealed to me that every thought I think is, in one way or another, an ugly, fatuous form of self-congratulation. Even what appears to be the most searing self-criticism is in fact self-congratulation. A man capable of seeing his worst side, you congratulate yourself. Coetzee is pleased to have been so hard on himself. ~ Tim Parks

The one thing ... that is truly ugly is the climate of hate and intimidation, created by a noisy few, which makes the decent majority reluctant to air in public their views on anything controversial ... Where all pretend to be thinking alike, it's likely that no one is thinking at all. ~ Edward Abbey

Gardening is a luxury occupation: an ornament, not a necessity, of life ... Fortunate gardener, who may preoccupy himself solely with beauty in these difficult and ugly days! He is one of the few people left in this distressful world to carry on the tradition of elegance and charm. A useless member of society, considered in terms of economics, he must not be denied his rightful place. He deserves to share it, however humbly, with the painter and poet. ~ Vita Sackville-West

Marcie looked at the ugly thing and took a minute to rearrange her mental picture of the family gathered around the wood-burning stove, replacing the quaint, charming piece in her imagination with this big, brown metal beast, which would heat their home but not burn little fingers. It would be like a large, beloved dog of some hideous mixed breed, that fit right into their family and served its purpose so well that no one noticed or cared what it looked like. ~ Karen Jones Gowen

Seamus tossed down two of his cards. "Hell. I'd train her if Tristan asked me. Wouldn't mind seeing that pretty face every day."
I studied my cards, pretending not to hear him.
"Maybe I should offer to work with her," he said. "Free you up so you can get back to doing what you love."
My jaw tightened.
"You go kill things, and I'll show the lass some Irish moves. Win-win situation for both of us, right?"
The cards in my hand began to buckle.
"Ha!" Seamus gave Niall a victorious grin. "Pay up, bro."
Niall's mouth turned down. "You don't even like that album."
"I said it wasn't my favorite one, but you know I like all of Johnny Cash's stuff."
"Since when?"
I stared at the two brothers with a mix of irritation and confusion.
"What are you two going on about?" Chris asked.
Seamus looked at me with a smug expression. "I told Niall you had it bad for the lass. He said she was too young and sweet to interest you. We made a friendly wager, which he just lost."
"You don't have proof he's into her," Niall argued. "He just might not want your ugly mug around her."
Seamus snorted. "You do realize we're identical twins."
"I'm still better looking. ~ Karen Lynch

But of course, she remembered, that was why women were so wonderful; it was their love and imagination that transformed these unremarkable beings. For most men, when one came to think of it, were undistinguished to look at, if not positively ugly. Fabian was an exception, and perhaps love affairs with handsome men tended to be less stable because so much less sympathy and imagination were needed on the woman's part? ~ Barbara Pym

As the result of some observations I have made in recent years, I propose to add two new and previously undescribed varieties to the various forms of insanity with fixed ideas, whose underlying phenomenology is essentially phobic. The two new terms I would like to put forth, following the nomenclature currently accepted by leading clinicians, are dysmorphophobia and taphephobia.

The first condition consists of the sudden appearance and fixation in the consciousness of the idea of one's own deformity; the individual fears that he has become deformed (dysmorphos) or might become deformed, and experiences at this thought a feeling of an inexpressible disaster… The ideas of being ugly are not, in themselves, morbid; in fact, they occur to many people in perfect mental health, awakening however only the emotions normally felt when this possibility is contemplated.

But, when one of these ideas occupies someone's attention repeatedly on the same day, and aggressively and persistently returns to monopolise his attention, refusing to remit by any conscious effort; and when in particular the emotion accompanying it becomes one of fear, distress, anxiety, and anguish, compelling the individual to modify his behaviour and to act in a pre-determined and fixed way, then the psychological phenomena has gone beyond the bounds of normal, and may validly be considered to have entered the realm of psychopathology.

The dysmorphophobic, indeed, is a veritably unh ~ Enrico Agostino Morselli

She was here and the world, for so long ugly and deformed, was all at once itself again. She was taking a glass of sweet wine from one of the waiters. She was smiling. She was breathing. She was here. She was an island of such colossal importance within a sea of inconsequence that it seemed impossible the Ball was able to continue its empty existence. ~ F.D. Lee

Blood does not family make. Those are relatives. Family are those with whom you share your good, bad, and ugly, and still love one another in the end. Those are the ones you select. ~ Hector Xtravaganza

Think of a rock polisher, one of those drums, goes round and round, rolls twenty-four/seven, full of water and rocks and gravel. Grinding it all up. Round and round. Polishing those ugly rocks into gemstones. That's the earth. Why it goes around. We're the rocks. And what happens to us - the drama and pain and joy and war and sickness and victory and abuse - why, that's just the water and sand to
erode us. Grind us down. To polish us up, nice and bright. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

You could me practice. They wouldn't have to know." I don't even feel like practicing. I just seems I should get in the water on principal, since Galen told me not to. And especially since he left me with a babysitter.
She throws me a sideways glare. "Fat Lips would know. He can sense me from anywhere, remember? An he'd snitch to Galen. He would know something's wrong if you and me got in without my brother."
I shrug. "Since when do you care about getting in trouble?"
"Since never. But Galen said if I kept you out of the water, he'd teach me how to drive his car."
Jackpot. "I happen to know how to drive. I could teach you."
"Galen said I wasn't allowed to ask you, or the deal's off."
"You didn't ask me. I offered."
She nods, biting her lip. "That's true. You did."
I set the book on the ugly glass coffee table and squat next to her. "I'll teach you how to drive if you let me get in the water. You don't even have to get in."
The way she raises her brow reminds me of Galen. "You're wasting your time trying to change if you ask me. You're half human. You probably don't even have a fin in there."
"What do you know about the half-breeds?"
She shrugs. "Not much. Enough to know that if you're one of them, there's no point in trying to change. No one is going to accept you. At least, no Syrena will."
I decide not to take offense. I don't put much stock in her opinion anyway, and she won't care if she offended me or not. ~ Anna Banks

in heavenly realms of hellas dwelt
two very different sons of zeus:
one, handsome strong and born to dare
--a fighter to his eyelashes--
the other,cunning ugly lame;
but as you'll shortly comprehend
a marvellous artificer

now Ugly was the husband of
(as happens every now and then
upon a merely human plane)
someone completely beautiful;
and Beautiful,who(truth to sing)
could never quite tell right from wrong,
took brother Fearless by the eyes
and did the deed of joy with him

then Cunning forged a web so subtle
air is comparatively crude;
an indestructible occult
supersnare of resistless metal:
and(stealing toward the blissful pair)
skilfully wafted over them-
selves this implacable unthing

next,our illustrious scientist
petitions the celestial host
to scrutinize his handiwork:
they(summoned by that savage yell
from shining realms of regions dark)
laugh long at Beautiful and Brave
--wildly who rage,vainly who strive;
and being finally released
flee one another like the pest

thus did immortal jealousy
quell divine generosity,
thus reason vanquished instinct and
matter became the slave of mind;
thus virtue triumphed over vice
and beauty bowed to ugliness
and logic thwarted life:and thus--
but look around you,friends and foes

my tragic tale concludes herewith: ~ E.E. Cummings

Here is the last thing, and a shameful admission it is. When the all-father in eagle form had almost reached the vats, with Suttung immediately behind him, Odin blew some of the mead out of his behind, a splatter wet fart of foul-smelling mead right in Suttung's face, blinding the giant and throwing him off Odin's trail.

No one, then or now, wanted to drink the mead that came out of Odin's ass. But whenever you hear bad poets declaiming their bad poetry, filled with foolish similes and ugly rhymes, you will know which of the meads the have tasted. ~ Neil Gaiman

In the subway the trains move so swiftly you can never catch your breath. Outside the grimy window that's a reflecting surface like a mirror mostly there are the rushing tunnel walls, that slow as the train slows for a station, and the doors open with a pneumatic hiss like the sigh of a great ugly beast, and passengers lurch off, and new passengers lurch on, and I lift my eyes hopeful and yearning Who will be my destiny? Which one of you? ~ Joyce Carol Oates

How can God be happy and decree calamity? Consider that he has the capacity to view the world through two lenses. Through the narrow one he is grieved and angered at sin and pain. Through the wide one he sees evil in relation to its eternal purposes. Reality is like a mosaic. The parts may be ugly in themselves, but the whole is beautiful. ~ Jonathan Edwards

In front of the coffee tablethere is a neon-pink stump stool, which I bought because my friend Amanda Brooks told me that every house has to have a 'wart,' or one really ugly piece. ~ Lauren Santo Domingo

There's no such thing as an ugly goal. Ugly is to not score one. ~ Dada Maravilha

We learned that you can only feel one thing at one time," says Isolde. "You can feel excitement or you can feel fear but you can never feel both. We learned why beauty is so important: beauty is important because you can't really defile something that is already ugly, and to defile is the ultimate goal of the sexual impulse. We learned that you can always say no. ~ Eleanor Catton

Some days are born ugly. From the very first light they are no damn good what ever the weather, and everbody knows it. No one knows what causes this, but on such a day people resist getting out of bed and set their heels against the day. When they are finally forced out by hunger or job they find that the day is just as lousy as they knew it would be. ~ John Steinbeck

Today I felt like a part of something awesome, the human race. I know it can be ugly; it really is in so many ways. But today there was nothing ugly to see, just people trying to be better. And maybe that's the key. Not resolutions and forgotten promises, but instead a commitment to do this year a little better than the last. I'm feeling good about this one. I really am. ~ Andrew McMahon

The sense of wishing to be known only for what one really is is like putting on an old, easy, comfortable garment. You are no longer afraid of anybody or anything. You say to yourself, 'Here I am --- just so ugly, dull, poor, beautiful, rich, interesting, amusing, ridiculous -- take me or leave me.' And how absolutely beautiful it is to be doing only what lies within your own capabilities and is part of your own nature. It is like a great burden rolled off a man's back when he comes to want to appear nothing that he is not, to take out of life only what is truly his own. ~ David Grayson

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: I was watching an old western and started thinking the Good, the Bad and the Ugly are present in all of us. What determines which one dominates is the one that is fed. Which one are you feeding? ~ Bobby F. Kimbrough Jr.

We were examining a big hole with two entrances. The burrow sloped into the ground at a gentle angle, so that we could see where the two corridors united, and the floor was dusty from use, like a little highway over which much travel went. I was walking backward, in a crouching position, when I heard Antonia scream. She was standing opposite me, pointing behind me and shouting something in Bohemian. I whirled around, and there, on one of those dry gravel beds, was the biggest snake I had ever seen. He was sunning himself, after the cold night, and he must have been asleep when Antonia screamed. When I turned, he was lying in loose waves, like a letter "W". He twitched and began to coil slowly. He was not merely a big snake, I thought - he was a circus monstrosity. His abominable muscularity, his loathsome, fluid motion, somehow made me sick. He was as thick as my leg, and looked as if millstones couldn't crush the disgusting vitality out of him. He lifted his hideous little head , and rattled. I didn't run because I didn't think of it - if my back had been against a stone wall I couldn't have felt more cornered. I saw his coils tighten - now he would spring, spring his length, I remembered. I ran up and drove at his head with my spade, struck him fairly across the neck, and in a minute he was all about my feet in wavy loops. I struck now from hate. Antonia, barefooted as she was, ran up behind me. Even after I had pounded his ugly head flat, his body kept on coiling and windi ~ Willa Cather

Every damn one of us has faults. I feel like I was dealt an especially crummy hand."

"It got ugly. I became a man possessed by inner demons that could not be caged. I was desperate for answers that were never forthcoming. Jen avoided me like the plague. She was ever fearful of the questions that I refused to voice. All of my answers poured forth deliciously from the bottle. ~ Virginia Aird

Oh, I'm old fashioned, you see," he said, pushing his dark brown hair out of his eyes, only to have the wind whip the locks right back where they were. "I think a man should jump into a frigid river to save a pretty girl."

"But not an ugly one then?"

"Oh, yeah, I'd save her too, but she's not the one teetering on the edge of the railing. ~ Angela Horn

Independence is the luxury of all those people who are too confident, and busy, and popular, and attractive to be just plain old lonely. And make no mistake, lonely is absolutely the worst thing to be. Tell someone that you've got a drink problem, or an eating disorder, or your dad died when you were a kid even, and you can almost see their eyes light up with the sheer fascinating drama and pathos of it all, because you've got an issue, something for them to get involved in, to talk about and analyse and discuss and maybe even cure. But tell someone you're lonely and of course they'll seem sympathetic, but look very carefully and you'll see one hand snaking behind their back, groping for the door handle, ready to make a run for it, as if loneliness itself were contagious. Because being lonely is just so banal, so shaming, so plain and dull and ugly. ~ David Nicholls

Gina hoisted herself up onto her elbows and gaped at Spike. "So that's the famous Spike I've been hearing so much about from your brothers? Damn, he is ugly."
Jesse, who'd stayed where he was, looked defensive. Spike was his baby, and you just don't go around calling Jesse's baby ugly.
"He's not so bad," I said, hoping Gina would get the message and shut up.
"Are you on crack?" Gina wanted to know. "Simon, the thing's only got one ear."
Suddenly, the large, gilt-framed mirror above the dressing table started to shake. It had a tendency to do this whenever Jesse got annoyed - really annoyed.
Gina, not knowing this, stared at the mirror with growing excitement. "Hey!" she cried. "All right! Another one!"
She meant an earthquake, of course, but this, like the one before, was no earthquake. It was just Jesse letting off steam.
Then the next thing I knew, a bottle of finger-nail polish Gina had left on the dressing table went flying and, defying all gravitational law, landed upside down in the suitcase she had placed on the floor at the end of the daybed, around seven or eight feet away.
I probably don't need to add that the bottle of polish - it was emerald green - was uncapped. And that it ended up on top of the clothes Gina hadn't unpacked yet.
Gina let out a terrified shriek, threw back the comforter, and dove to the floor, trying to salvage what she could. I, meanwhile, threw Jesse a very dirty look.
But all he said was, "Don' ~ Meg Cabot

My lascivious blood leaves me no choice but to lust for men. No matter how common I become, how ugly, how old, as long as there is life in my body I will go on wanting men. That's just my fate. Even if men are no longer amazed when they see me, even if they no longer desire me, even if they belittle me, I have to sleep with them. No, I want to sleep with them. It's the retribution for a divinity that no one can sustain forever. I suppose you could say my 'power' was little more than sin. ~ Natsuo Kirino

If you have lived in cities and have walked in the park on a summer afternoon, you have perhaps seen, blinking in a corner of his iron cage, a huge, grotesque kind of monkey, a creature with ugly, sagging, hairless skin below his eyes and a bright purple underbody. This monkey is a true monster. In the completeness of his ugliness he achieved a kind of perverted beauty. Children stopping before the cage are fascinated, men turn away with an air of disgust, and women linger for a moment, trying perhaps to remember which one of their male acquaintances the thing in some faint way resembles. ~ Sherwood Anderson

I've always hated quotation marks: they're ugly on the page and they classify the text for you, putting dialogue in one box and narration in another. ~ Catherine Brady

When one speaks of solitaries, one always takes too much for granted. One supposes that people know what one is talking about. No, they do not. They have never seen a solitary, they have simply hated him without knowing him. They have been his neighbors who used him up, and the voices in the next room that tempted him. They have incited things against him, so that they made a great noise and drowned him out. Children were in league against him, when he was tender and a child, and with every growth he grew up against the grown-ups. They tracked him to his hiding place, like a beast to be hunted, and his long youth had no closed season. And when he refused to be worn out and got away, they cried out upon that which emanated from him, and called it ugly and cast suspicion upon it. And when he would not listen, they became more distinct and ate away his food and breathed out his air and spat into his poverty so that it became repugnant to him. They brought down disrepute upon him as upon an infectious person and cast stones at him to make him go away more quickly. And they were right in their ancient instinct: for he was indeed their foe.

But then, when he did not raise his eyes, they began to reflect. They suspected that with all this they had done what he wanted; that they had fortified him in his solitude and helped him to separate himself from them for ever. And now they changed about and, resorting to the final, the extreme, used that other resistance: fame. And a ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Desmond ushered the man inside. He was stooped and ugly, with an unkempt beard and unwashed clothes, yet Father greeted him pleasantly and asked his name.
"Yoren, as it please m'lord. My pardons for the hour." He bowed to Arya. "And this must be your son. He has your look."
"I'm a girl," Arya said, exasperated. If the old man was down from the Wall, he must have come by way of Winterfell. "Do you know my brothers?" she asked excitedly. "Robb and Bran are at Winterfell, and Jon's on the Wall. Jon Snow, he's in the Night's Watch too, you must know him, he has a direwolf, a white one with red eyes. Is Jon a ranger yet? I'm Arya Stark." The old man in his smelly black clothes was looking at her oddly, but Arya could not seem to stop talking. "When you ride back to the Wall, would you bring Jon a letter if I wrote one?" She wished Jon were here right now. He'd believe her about the dungeons and the fat man with the forked beard and the wizard in the steel cap. ~ George R R Martin

I know the ugly faces the moon makes when it thinks no one is watching. ~ Caitlin R. Kiernan

You know, one of these days, I'm actually going to take offense if people keep throwing out these slurs. And then things are going to get rather ugly. When we Skandians do take offense, we do it with a battleax. ~ John Flanagan

Men are like pillow-cases. The colour of one may be red, that of another blue, and that of the third black; but all contain the same cotton within. So it is with man; one is beautiful, another is ugly, a third holy , and a fourth wicked; but the Divine Being dwells in them all ~ Ramakrishna

You can have 100 people tell you how beautiful you look, and one person will say, "God, did you sleep last night?" Not even "You're ugly," but "Did you sleep?" and you're all of a sudden like, "What?!" And the whole day that's what you'll remember. ~ Khloe Kardashian

Yes, poisonous thing!" repeated Giovanni, beside himself with passion. "Thou hast done it! Thou has blasted me! Thou hast filled my veins with poison! Thou hast made me as hateful, as ugly, as loathsome and deadly a creature as thyself – a world's wonder of hideous monstrosity! Now, if our breath be happily as fatal to ourselves as to all others, let us join our lips in one kiss of unutterable hatred, and so die! ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

One simple thing to do and destroy the spirit of self-sabotage is to admire the beauty hidden in ugly circumstances. ~ Israelmore Ayivor

It's 4am again and I'm just getting started. People are boring and I want to burn with excitement or anger and bleed, bleed through my words. I want to get all fucked up and write real and raw and ugly and beautifully. I bet you're sleeping safe and calm, and you can stay there, it's safer there, and you wouldn't stand one night on this journey my mind wanders off to every night you close your eyes. I'll stay here one day and I will never come down.
I promise I can fly before I hit the ground.
It doesn't even hurt anymore.
I swear, it doesn't hurt. ~ Charlotte Eriksson

I knew Chaz was a good guy, if misguided and gullible. He'd swallowed Buck's side of what happened between us, had argued with Erin that maybe I was drunk that night and didn't remember everything clearly. He was probably one of those boys to whom rapists were ugly men who jumped out of bushes, assaulting random girls. Rapists weren't your nice-guy coworker, or your frat brother, or your best friend. Maybe it never occurred to him that his best friend was capable of ripping a girl's self-confidence away in the span of five minutes. ~ Tammara Webber

Predictably, the national broadcaster - a viper's nest of socialists, tree-huggers and ugly, barren females - had seized on the survey, exhuming one of its bleeding-heart ideologues to moan about funding cuts to education. ~ Michelle De Kretser

But I wondered sometimes, the way your mind asks those big questions, like whether or not there's a god or how a girl can think she's ugly one day and pretty the next. ~ Julie Murphy