#bennet

You know I meant it. I am human. And male. And not remotely blind. Do you want me to say it again? You are distractingly, even-if-that-is-not-a-real-word, pretty. You are so pretty that I bullied Clay Whitaker into drawing me a picture of you so I could look at you when you aren’t around. You are so pretty that one of these days I’m going to lose a finger in my garage because I can’t concentrate with you so close to me. You are so pretty that I wish you weren’t so I wouldn’t want to hit every guy at school who looks at you, especially my best friend.” I stop to catch my breath. “More? I can keep going.” I can keep going, but even as I say all of this, I know it’s not quite true. She’s not just distractingly pretty. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and I want to touch her so badly right now that it’s almost impossible to keep my hands from reaching out and doing it. ↗

— Katja Millay

#beauty

Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. ↗

— Jane Austen

#pride

I wanted her in a way that made me feel like every second I was sated and starving. ↗

— Christina Lauren

#beauty

I realized my room was just next to hers. It was a mirror image of her room, but completely different in all of the ways that couldn't be seen. This shower hadn't washed away our pretenses last night; we hadn't slept together, curled around each other in this bed. These walls hadn't been filled with the sounds of her coming apart beneath me. This desk wasn't broken from a late-morning quickie. ↗

— Christina Lauren

#beauty

I woke up when my pillow was yanked out from under my head and Chloe mumbled something incoherent about spinach and hot dogs. The woman was a sleep-talking, restless bed hog. ↗

— Christina Lauren

#humour #beauty

They parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never meeting again. ↗

— Jane Austen

#mr-darcy #parting #pride-and-prejudice #civilization

I imagine she came out of the birth canal holding a cupcake and a spatula. ↗

— Katja Millay

#imagination

She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me, and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. ↗

— Jane Austen

#love #mr-darcy #humor

Peter was now standing very close - as if he wanted to comfort me - as if he knew how hurt I felt that Mrs Knowles had not asked me to play or to sing. And I did feel comforted. It was as if a tide of warmth was carrying me out of myself, inclining me to trust him and to conduct myself well. ↗

— Jennifer Paynter

#jennifer-paynter #love #loyalty #mary-bennet #peter-bushell

At that moment a solitary violin struck up. But the music was not dance music; it was more like a song - a solemn, sweet song. (I know now that it was Beethoven's Romance in F.) I listened, and suddenly it was as if the fog that surrounded me had been penetrated, as if I were being spoken to. ↗

— Jennifer Paynter

#jennifer-paynter #love #mary-bennet #message #music