#ian

They were literally inches from being buried alive in this place, millions of miles from home or any sort of civilization, where they would never be found or mourned... and Caine continued to smile. Sweet heavens, he was completely out of his mind! ↗

— V.S. Carnes

#romance #dreams

Kent had begun sleeping with his good eye open, for he knew the mark of sedition when he saw it. Even partway blinded, who could see it better? ↗

— V.S. Carnes

#romance #dreams

She was a little thing, too, inciting that basic compulsion in him as a man to protect her in so hectic a place as post-war Israel. Even so, his actions were borne out of an entirely different instinct, altogether: to fool her and anyone within a dart's range... to protect himself. ↗

— V.S. Carnes

#romance #dreams

She and Marie were Montreal girls, not trained to accompany heroes, or to hold out for dreams, but just to be patient. ↗

— Mavis Gallant

#montreal #patience #winter #dreams

Really, Sage? A date?” I sighed. “Yes, Adrian. A date.” “A real date. Not, like, doing homework together,” he added. “I mean like where you go out to a movie or something. And a movie that’s not part of a school assignment. Or about something boring.” “A real date. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#dating

Anytime one tries to take fragments of one's personal mythology and make them understandable to the whole world, one reaches back to the past. It must be dreamed again. ↗

— Assotto Saint

#haitian-dyaspora #mythology #dreams

Actually," Clary said, "I think he stayed because of me." Jace's glaze flicked up to hers with a flash of gold. "Because of you? Hoping for another hot date, was he?" Clary felt herself flush. "No. And our date wasn't hot. In fact, it wasn't even a date. Anyway, that's not the point. When he came into the Hall, he kept trying to get me to go outside with him so we could talk. He wanted something from me. I just don't know what." "Or maybe he just wanted you," Jace said. Seeing Clary's expression, he added, "Not that way. I mean maybe he wanted to bring you to Valentine. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#jace-wayland #sebastian #dating

Right at the end of the war I wrote a piano sonata, which was written at a time when Sam Barber used to come down here and we used to have lunch together in a very nice old hotel that's now not there. ↗

— Elliott Carter

#come #down #end #here #hotel

Jeremy would be a handsome groom. He looked like a Ken doll come to life. Probably has the same plastic lack of parts as his tiny counterpart. Did she mention that I probably brought her to more orgasms than your plastic junk could ever dream of giving her? ↗

— Virginia Nelson

#ff-erotic-romance #glbt-romance #lesbian #dreams

If little else, the brain is an educational toy. The problem with possessing such an engaging toy is that other people want to play with it, too. Sometime they'd rather play with yours than theirs. Or they object if you play with yours in a different manner from the way they play with theirs. The result is, a few games out of a toy department of possibilities are universally and endlessly repeated. If you don't play some people's game, they say that you have "lost your marbles," not recognizing that, while Chinese checkers is indeed a fine pastime, a person may also play dominoes, chess, strip poker, tiddlywinks, drop-the-soap or Russian roulette with his brain. ↗

— Tom Robbins

#creativity #deviance #games #individuality #normalizing