#historic

African-Americans who might have disagreed with candidate Obama's left-of-center politics voted for him in 2008 because electing a candidate with brown skin was too historic an opportunity to miss. ↗

— Alveda King

#brown #candidate #disagreed #electing #him

Whatever an artist's personal feelings are, as soon as an artist fills a certain area on the canvas or circumscribes it, he becomes historical. He acts from or upon other artists. ↗

— Willem de Kooning

#area #artist #artists #becomes #canvas

In historical and constitutional terms, the recent political status vote in Puerto Rico was a necessary but obviously not decisive step on the road of self-determination leading to full self-government. ↗

— Dick Thornburgh

#decisive #full #historical #leading #necessary

She's elegant," Olivia stated. "I would kill to have her figure." "Really?" "Of course. I have always wished to look precisely like her. Though obviously, not enough to avoid food," she added. "That's madness. You have everything she doesn't." Olivia opened her mouth, ready to argue. "Everything she hasn't." She frowned at him. "Including me. ↗

— Eloisa James

#olivia #tarquin #food

Son of a bitch!" Cash erupted. "He's wearing Nate's guns." Reese had been too occupied gazing into those eyes to notice the oddity of a gun belt strapped around a naked waist. Cash was right. Those were Nate's pretty pearl pistols. Reese had never liked those guns. He liked them even less now. "Sullivan, ask him where he got those," Cash demanded. "What gave you the idea I can speak Comanche?" "Because you are one?" "You're a jackass, but I don't expect you to talk to a donkey." "This is no time to be funny, breed." "Then quit trying so hard. ↗

— Lori Handeland

#rock-creek-six-series #western #funny

It would be, like all of Pammy's parties, hot and crowded and filled with impossibly glamorous people with hip bones so sharp they could qualify as concealed weapons. ↗

— Lauren Willig

#humor #mystery #romance #humor

She was in big trouble now. "You stupid man," she said to the body on the floor. "Why did you have to lunge at me like that? Why couldn't you have left well enough alone? I told your father I wasn't going to marry you. I told him I wouldn't marry you if you were the last idiot in Britain." She nearly stamped her foot in frustration. Why was it her words never came out quite the way she intended them to? "What I meant to say was that you are an idiot," she said to Percy, who, not surprisingly, didn't respond, "and that I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man in Britain, and- Oh, blast. What am I doing talking to you, anyway? You're quite dead. ↗

— Julia Quinn

#historical #humor #humor

Where are you going?" "To get my Bible." "Right now? You can't get your Bible out right now! I'm, I'm, we're just about to..." She'd never be able to go through with this if he got out his Bible. She wiped all humor from her face. "I believe you. Proverbs 5:18. Rejoice, relish, and romp with your husband." He chuckled. "I'm serious, Connie, and I won't have you feeling ashamed or unclean over anything we do in that bed, tonight or any other night." "I won't. I feel unashamed and very clean. I promise. But please don't get out that Bible." "What? Think you that God can't see us right now?" Groaning, she slid off his lap and covered her face with her hands. He sunk to his knees in front of her, drawing her hands down. "I love you. You love me. We are man and wife. God is watching, Connie, and He is very, very pleased. ↗

— Deeanne Gist

#christian #christian-romance #connie #constance-morrow #deeanne-gist

It is a truth universally acknowledged that one only comes up with clever, cutting remarks long after the other party is happily slumbering away. ↗

— Lauren Willig

#humor #mystery #paraphrased #humor

This explains so much," she said, clucking her tongue in mother-hen fashion. "You're compensating for this withered appendage." Withered appendage? What the devil was she talking about? He shook his head, trying to clear it. Colin's dire predictions of shriveled twigs and dried currants rattled in his skull. Wide awake now, he fought to sit up, wrestling the sheets. "Listen, you. I don't know what sort of liberties you've taken while I was insensible, or just what your spinster imagination prepared you to see. But I'll have you know, that water was damned cold." She blinked at him. "I'm referring to your leg." "Oh." His leg. That withered appendage ↗

— Tessa Dare

#imagination