#l

How Superheroes Make Money: - Spider-Man knits sweaters. - Superman screw the lids on pickle jars. - Iron Man, as you would suspect, just irons. ↗

— Jim Benton

#iron-man #knitting #pickle #reference-to-superheroes #spiderman

I shall not change my course because those who assume to be better than I desire it. ↗

— Victoria Woodhull

#assume #because #better #course #desire

The women of the country have the power in their own hands, in spite of the law and the government being altogether of the male order. ↗

— Victoria Woodhull

#being #country #government #hands #law

While others prayed for the good time coming, I worked for it. ↗

— Victoria Woodhull

#good #good time #i #others #prayed

There's no art to find the mind's construction in the face ↗

— William Shakespeare

#inspirational #art

To be in touch with wilderness is to have stepped past the proud cattle of the field and wandered far from the twinkles of the Inn's fire. To have sensed something sublime in the life/death/life movement of the seasons, to know that contained in you is the knowledge to pull the sword from the stone and to live well in fierce woods in deep winter. Wilderness is a form of sophistication, because it carries within it true knowledge of our place in the world. It doesn't exclude civilization but prowls through it, knowing when to attend to the needs of the committee and when to drink from a moonlit lake. It will wear a suit and tie when it has to, but refuses to trim its talons or whiskers. Its sensing nature is not afraid of emotion: the old stories are full of grief forests and triumphant returns, banquets and bridges of thorns. Myth tells us that the full gamut of feeling is to be experienced. Wilderness is the capacity to go into joy, sorrow, and anger fully and stay there for as long as needed, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Sometimes, as Lorca says, it means 'get down on all fours for twenty centuries and eat the grasses of the cemetaries.' Wilderness carries sobriety as well as exuberance, and has allowed loss to mark its face. ↗

— Martin Shaw

#anger

I hate this,” he muttered, lowering his forehead until it rested on mine. “I hate him. I hate what he does to you. I hate that I can’t stop him.” My heart melted as pain registered on his beautiful face. Without thinking, I lifted my hand and slid it along Ethan’s cheek. He covered my hand with his own and nuzzled it softly. Finally, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. What I saw in them made my breath falter. There was anger and pain, but above all there was…something else. Something that made my heart beat frantically and my whole body vibrate. There was desire. ↗

— Jamie Canosa

#love #romance #anger

You say great artists sell their souls for their art?" "Maybe," she ventured. "That's true, I suppose. If you're doing it right, anyway. I've probably sold mine. Jack's certainly sold his. And you, I imagine." "I have not!" she said, anger showing clear in her eyes. "Not literally," he said hastily. "But we give up being a person to be an artist, don't we? ↗

— Sam Starbuck

#artist #sell #soul #writing #anger

There's a fine line between hate & evil and it lays on the bed of anger✌www.bullyingben ↗

— Timothy Pina

#anger

This angered me. “Nothing has changed!?!?” I screamed at him. I was furious with him. He had duped me. “Your a mermaid! Your a freak!” Calling him a freak hurt his feelings. “I am the same boy you fell in love with. I can't help who I was born as, but that doesn't affect the boy in which I want to be.” “And what is that?” I asked, really emotional right now. “A boy who wants to be given the chance to love you.” With these tender words, I instantly ran into his arms. “Oh Trysten, I don't care who you are, or what you can become, but I love you for loving me. ↗

— Keira D. Skye

#mermaid #mermaids #merman #young-adult-fiction #young-adult-romance