#her

Some in Westminster have talked about her receiving a state funeral when she dies, which seems a bizarre sort of tribute to someone who believed the state should do as little as possible. It would be far more appropriate to allow competitive bids from private companies to run the funeral arrangements. 'And we now go over live to Westminster, where state leaders are lining up for Lady Thatcher's funeral sponsored by McDonald's. And there we see the coffin respectfully borne on the shoulders of six part-time burger-flippers dressed in the official Ronald McDonald costume, before the private cremation when the body will be flame-grilled with gherkins and a slice of cheese.' It's what she would have wanted. ↗

— John O'Farrell

#history #margaret-thatcher #respect

You have my whole heart. You always did. You're the best guy. You always were. ↗

— Cormac McCarthy

#love #son #love

A father knows his child's heart, as only a child can know his fathers. ↗

— Kazuo Koike

#fatherhood #love #son #love

We can always hate that which we loved, and with a fire as great as our love once was. ↗

— Claudia Gray

#christopher #evernight-series #hate #love #love

Love at first sight is a hypnosis: I am fascinated by an image: at first shaken, electrified, stunned, "paralysed" as Menon was by Socrates, the model of loved objects, of captivating images, or again converted by an apparition, nothing distinguishing the path of enamoration from the Road to Damascus; subsequently ensnared, held fast, immobilised, nose stuck to the image (the mirror). In that moment when the other's image comes to ravish me for the first time, I am nothing more than the Jesuit Athanasius Kirchner's wonderful Hen: feet tied, the hen went to sleep with her eyes fixed on the chalk line, which was traced not far from her beak; when she was untied, she remained motionless, fascinated, "submitting to her vanquisher," as the Jesuit says (1646); yet, to waken her from her enchantment, to break off the violence of her Image-repertoire (vehemens animalis imaginatio), it was enough to tap her on the wing; she shook herself and began pecking in the dust again. ↗

— Roland Barthes

#love-at-first-sight #road-to-damascus #vehemens-animalis-imaginato #love

I like the way he danced. And then I like the way we danced together. ↗

— Anita Diamant

#dance #dancing #like #love #toggetherness

Yet I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton's attachment more than mine -- If he love with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years, as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have; the sea could be as readily contained in that horse-trough, as her whole affection be monopolized by him -- Tush! He is scarcely a degree dearer to her than her dog, or her horse -- It is not in him to be loved like me, how can she love in him what he has not? ↗

— Emily Brontë

#love

Some people say—not to my face, mind you—that I’m a cowardly son of a bitch. And that is simply not true. My mom is not a bitch.
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#coward #cowardly #gossip #mom #mother

You should shower," I said. "Right now." "I smell that bad?" (Patch) Actually, he smelled that good. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#sex-appeal #sex

Hear this or not, as you will. Learn it now, or later -- the world has time. Routine, repetition, tedium, monotony, ephemeracy, inconsequence, abstraction, disorder, boredom, angst, ennui -- these are the true hero's enemies, and make no mistake, they are fearsome indeed. For they are real. ↗

— David Foster Wallace

#boredom