#bit

... while I bathed, while I tried but failed to sleep, I considered how I might become more like the women I respected and admired. Surrounded as I was by ambitious, accomplished women, I couldn't ignore the little voice in my head that said maybe I was supposed to shed halfway, and do something significant. Contribute something. Accomplish something. Choose. Be. ↗

— Therese Anne Fowler

#zelda-fitzgerald #respect

The person who doesn't scatter the morning dew will not comb grey hairs ↗

— Hunter S. Thompson

#perseverance #perseverance

Just give me a bit, let me pretend you're still alive," Andrei said hoarsely. "Let me pretend that I don't have to give you up." "Andrei," Warm, calloused hands cupped Anrei's face. "Look at me. I'm real. I'm still with you. A part of me will always be with you. Even after I go through that doorway. ↗

— Marguerite Labbe

#m-m-paranormal #romantic #romantic

The only way we could remember would be by constant re-reading, for knowledge unused tends to drop out of mind. Knowledge used does not need to be remembered; practice forms habits and habits make memory unnecessary. The rule is nothing; the application is everything. ↗

— Henry Hazlitt

#knowing #memory #practice #science

That's pretty hot," he said. "Punching me in the eye?" "Well, no. Of course not. I meant the idea of getting rough with you is hot. I'm a big fan of full-contact sports." "I'm sure you are. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#frostbite #mead #richelle #vampire #sports

I'd rather be partly great than entirely useless. ↗

— Neal Shusterman

#failure #irony #optimism #failure

Language is my whore, my mistress, my wife, my pen-friend, my check-out girl. Language is a complimentary moist lemon-scented cleansing square or handy freshen-up wipette. Language is the breath of God, the dew on a fresh apple, it's the soft rain of dust that falls into a shaft of morning sun when you pull from an old bookshelf a forgotten volume of erotic diaries; language is the faint scent of urine on a pair of boxer shorts, it's a half-remembered childhood birthday party, a creak on the stair, a spluttering match held to a frosted pane, the warm wet, trusting touch of a leaking nappy, the hulk of a charred Panzer, the underside of a granite boulder, the first downy growth on the upper lip of a Mediterranean girl, cobwebs long since overrun by an old Wellington boot. ↗

— Stephen Fry

#bbc #language #linguistics #writing #trust

Say what you had to about Ethan, but the boy filled a library very, very well. Okay—arguably, that wasn’t the only thing he filled out well, but let’s stay on track. ↗

— Chloe Neill

#library

For a group of people who claimed to be concerned for her safety,they did seem to have developed rather a habit of encouraging uprisings against monarchs ↗

— Kristin Cashore

#kristin-cashore #development

Rose only hangs out with guys and psychopaths," said Mia. "Well," he said cheerfully, "since I'm both a psychopath and a guy, that would explain why we're such good friends. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#rose