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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #dating
Love is like a game of chess. You're white. He's black. You wait for him to make a move, while staring into his handsome, melting-you-on-the-inside eyes, then realize what a dummy he is to not tell you straight out to go first. The beginning is the crush stage. You begin to realize how much you want to defeat him, or make him fall in love with you. By the time you get to the heat of the game, you both moved and are hopefully dating. If you haven't forfeit then because you don't want to be cheated on, you make another move- head on shoulder, hand holding, etc. Black makes another move-he gives you his jacket on a freezing night. By the endgame, he either realizes how stupid he was to play with you and forfeits, or he realizes how smart you are and lets you defeat him (and love you). By the time you win, you're married to him. A happily ever after game of chess. ↗
Mzatal gave a decisive nod. “I will manage this. It cannot continue to interfere with his work. Too much is at stake.” I raised an eyebrow. “How do you intend to manage it?” “I will tell him the truth and outline the consequences.” I was surprised Mzatal didn’t shrivel away from the look I gave him. “Dude. Seriously? You expect him to stop crushing on me because you forbid it?” Mzatal frowned, contemplative. “Perhaps not ideal given the entanglement of human emotions, though there is no time for it to drag on,” he said, as if he actually knew what he was talking about. “If he knows you have no interest and sees how his distractions have affected his work, he will subside enough for now.” My withering look became glacial. “Boss, you’re completely awesome in many ways, but you are so off-base with this it’s not even funny.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve already ramped ‘No Interest’ up to eleven on the dial and, at this point, he doesn’t care if his work suffers.” I took a big gulp of coffee, then ran my fingers through my tangled hair. “Let me deal with it. Normally I’m not into direct confrontation with this sort of shit, but there’s isn’t enough time for it to fizzle out on its own.” Mzatal regarded me with that damned unreadable mask which he’d slipped on as I was talking. Great. Lords weren’t much on being told they were wrong, but it had to be said. ↗
#humour #idris #mzatal-kara #dating
She gave a little sob deep in her throat. 'Call it a prophecy, call it a prediction, call it fate - call it what you will. I fought against it hard enough, God knows. But the evidence of my own eyes, my own ears, my own senses, is too much for me. And the time's too short now. I'm afraid to take a chance. I haven't got the nerve to bluff it out, to sit pat. You don't gamble with a human life. Today's the 13th, isn't it? It's too close to the 14th; there isn't time-margin enough left now to be skeptical, to keep it to myself any longer. Day by day I've watched him cross off the date on his desk-calendar, drawing nearer to death. There are only two leaves left now, and I want help! Because on the 14th - at the exact stroke of midnight, as the 15th is beginning -' She covered her face with both arms and shook silently. 'Yes?' urged McManus. 'Yes?' 'He's become convinced - oh, and almost I have too - that at exactly midnight on the 14th he's to die. Not just die but meet his death in full vigor and health, a death rushing down to him from the stars he was born under - rushing down even before he existed at all. A death inexorable, inescapable. A death horrid and violent, inconceivable here in this part of the world where we live.' She took a deep, shuddering breath, whispered the rest of it. 'Death at the jaws of a lion.' ("Speak To Me Of Death") ↗
As for us, we who do not believe what these women believe, but live like them by faith, never could look without a sort of tender and religious awe, a kind of pity full of envy, at those devoted beings, trembling yet confident-those humble yet august souls, who date to live on the brink of the great mystery, waiting between the world closed to them and heaven not yet opened; turned toward the daylight not yet seen, with only the happiness of thinking that they know where it is; their aspirations directed toward the abyss and the unknown, their gaze fixes on the motionless obscurity, kneeling, dismayed, stupefied, shuddering, and half carried of sometimes by the deep breath of Eternity. ↗
My dad used to say, ‘This is what your right arm’s for, son,’” John said. “This is the time and these are the people and I’d give my right arm to be a light, a comfort, to them. I know you would, too. In whatever form it takes. Use these materials and make something great. Do it on faith, knowing you probably won’t be around to see how the story ends. ↗
#dedication #glass-girl #high-school #laura-anderson-kurk #long-distance-relationships
Henry drew a shaky breath. “Do me a favor, Meg.” “Anything,” I whispered. “Don’t fall for Quinn O’Neill. If you’re going to do this thing with him…go to this dance, don’t fall for him.” “Never,” I said. “I promise.” “Because I’m all filled up on sad right now.” He sniffed again and I could tell he was more in control. “And you can’t ask me to sit by and watch you get all caught up in this guy. I can’t handle that—thinking he swept you off your feet because he bathed in body spray and dressed up.” His voice sounded rough. “I know you think I’m being funny right now, but I’m completely serious. Don’t make me watch that happen.” “You know my heart,” I said. “It’s yours. ↗
We were sitting outside at our favorite Italian restaurant, Callini’s, one Friday lunch when Sam revealed to me what his ideal female looked like. A few women walked by and Sam used words like “big legs” and “too big up top” to describe women that barely weighed over 100 pounds. The following bomb then pried its way out of his mouth, “I’m still in love with Winny Cooper.” I replied with shock in my voice, “Winny Cooper from The Wonder Years?” Sam glowed, “Yeah, Winny is my ideal woman.” “You do realize that she was a little girl in that show,” I said trying to awaken Sam’s better judgment. He started laughing, “Winnie was a babe. I had a huge crush on her.” I needed clarification: “You do realize that you were in your 20s when that show was on. So, that would mean that you had a crush on a 12 year-old. ↗
I spent my childhood and youth on the outskirts of the Alps, in a region that was largely spared the immediate effects of the so-called hostilities. At the end of the war I was just one year old, so I can hardly have any impressions of that period of destruction based on personal experience. Yet to this day, when I see photographs or documentary films dating from the war I feel as if I were its child, so to speak, as if those horrors I did not experience cast a shadow over me … I see pictures merging before my mind’s eye—paths through the fields, river meadows, and mountain pastures mingling with images of destruction—and oddly enough, it is the latter, not the now entirely unreal idylls of my early childhood, that make me feel rather as if I were coming home… ↗
#history #inheritance #war #dating
Madge did the honors. “Are you…keeping company with Doc Piney?” Jesse answered carefully. “We are not dating, but we are seeing a lot of each other.” Factually true. Revealing nothing. The three women sat silently for a long moment, sharing glances with each other. “You know he has a sad history,” Walter Lou said finally. “Of course she knows,” Madge said immediately. “Everybody knows. The question is are you planning on breaking that man’s heart again?” The suggestion was not at all what Jesse expected. She stuttered out an answer. “I…I don’t…I don’t think Piney knows me well enough to get his heart broken,” she managed finally. “Oh, Lord, girl,” Madge said. “He’s a Baxley. A more lovelorn line of men never graced the earth.” “That’s the truth of that,” Walter Lou agreed. “Those men dote on their women something fierce. ↗
When I think that I'm over you I'm overpowered Your date on my data The chromosomes match Exact as in matter A matter of fact These amourant feelings A cognitive state Need the love object To reciprocate When I think that I'm over you I'm overpowered It's long overdue I'm overpowered When I think that I'm over you I'm overpowered It's long overdue I'm overpowered A chemical reason If reason's your game A chemical needing Is there in the brain With preprogrammed meanings Like a little more pep Alien feelings We have to accept When I think that I'm over you I'm overpowered It's long overdue I'm overpowered When I think that I'm over you I'm overpowered It's long overdue I'm overpowered As science struggles on to try to explain Oxytoxins flowing ever into my brain As science struggles on to try to explain Oxytoxins flowing ever into my brain ↗
