#dr

I like to use two basic elements for my clothing: rock... you know, metal and chains and stuff - mixed with fairies and drama and Victorian clothing - fantasy. ↗

— Evanescence

#evanescence #drama

Let's carpe the hell out of this diem. ↗

— Alexandra Bracken

#humor #the-darkest-minds #humor

Are parents always more ambitious for their children than they are for themselves? ↗

— Jeffrey Archer

#children #parents #ambition

If a man does not work passionately - even furiously - at being the best in the world at what he does, he fails his talent, his destiny, and his God. ↗

— George Lois

#drive #work #ambition

All the worlds a Stage, and the men and women mearly players! ↗

— William Shakespeare

#drama #insparation #men

…sense of futility that comes from doing anything merely to prove to yourself that you can do it: having a child, climbing a mountain, making some sexual conquest, committing suicide. The marathon is a form of demonstrative suicide, suicide as advertising: it is running to show you are capable of getting every last drop of energy out of yourself, to prove it… to prove what? That you are capable of finishing. Graffiti carry the same message. They simply say: I’m so-and-so and I exist! They are free publicity for existence. Do we continually have to prove to ourselves that we exist? A strange sign of weakness, harbinger of a new fanaticism for a faceless performance, endlessly self-evident. ↗

— Jean Baudrillard

#jean-baudrillard #sociology #advertising

Drustan raked a hand through his hair and fumbled in the dark for the door. When it didn't budge, a part of him was unsurprised. Yet another part of him met the fact with a kind of glad resignation. She wanted battle? Battle she would get. It would be a pleasure to have it out with her finally. Once he'd ripped the door from the framing, he would exact vengeance upon her wee body with gleeful abandon. No more honorable I-won't-touch-you-because-I'm-betrothed. Nay he'd touch her. Any damn place and any damn way he wanted to. As many times as he wanted to. Until she begged and whimpered beneath him. She'd been trying to drive him mad? Well, he was giving in to it. He would act like the animal she made him feel like being. The hell with Anya, the hell with duty and honor, the hell with discipline. He needed to tup. Her. Now. ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#gwen #karen-marie-moning #kiss-of-the-highlander #discipline

Here: an exercise in choice. Your choice. One of these tales is true. She lived through the war. In 1959 she came to America. She now lives in a condo in Miami, a tiny French woman with white hair, with a daughter and a grand-daughter. She keeps herself to herself and smiles rarely, as if the weight of memory keeps her from finding joy. Or that's a lie. Actually the Gestapo picked her up during a border crossing in 1943, and they left her in a meadow. First she dug her own grave, then a single bullet to the back of the skull. Her last thought, before that bullet, was that she was four months' pregnant, and that if we do not fight to create a future there will be no future for any of us. There is an old woman in Miami who wakes, confused, from a dream of the wind blowing the wildflowers in a meadow. There are bones untouched beneath the warm French earth which dream of a daughter's wedding. Good wine is drunk. The only tears shed are happy ones. ↗

— Neil Gaiman

#dreams

What comes, is called. ↗

— Ki Longfellow

#hypatia-of-alexandria #mathematics #philosophy #spirituality #mathematics

You know anything about investigative work?" "Sure. Annoy the people involved until the guilt party tries to make you go away. ↗

— Ilona Andrews

#ilona-andrews #investigative-work #kate #kate-daniels #magic-bites