#lass

Thank you for sending me a copy of your book. I'll waste no time reading it. ↗

— Moses Hadas

#books #classic-insult #irony #literary-criticism #time

He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts... for support rather than illumination. ↗

— Andrew Lang

#simile #insult

Hey, if you don't want to tell me, don't. But I can tell when you lie." Ok, that was super creepy. "You can?" He smiled grimly down at the dirty dishwater. "Nope. But see? You fell for it anyway. Careful, or I'll read your mind with my incredible vampire superpowers. ↗

— Rachel Caine

#michael-glass #ghost

Valentine whirled. Clary, lying half-conscious in the sand, her wrists and arms a screaming agony, stared defiantly back. For a moment their eyes met—and he looked at her, really looked at her, and she realized it was the first time her father had ever looked her in the face and seen her. The first and only time. “Clarissa,” he said. “What have you done?” Clary stretched out her hand, and with her finger she wrote in the sand at his feet. She didn’t draw runes. She drew words: the words he had said to her the first time he’d seen what she could do, when she’d drawn the rune that had destroyed his ship. MENE MENE TEKEL UPSHARIN. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#consciousness

العيال اللى كانت بتقعد ف أول ديسك وبيتصاحبوا على المدرسين ويفتنوا على أصحابهم، غالبًا لما يكبروا بيبقوا إخوان. والعيال عديمة الموهبة اللي نفسهم يبقوا حاجة بالعافية، بيكبروا ويبقوا ظباط. والعيال اللى كانت بتجيب معاها حلويات مستوردة والمقلمة أم دورين، هم وأصحابهم بيبقوا فلول. والعيال اللى كانت بتقعد معاك ورا تقشّر يوستفاندى وتقزقز لب سوبر وتقلب ريحة الفصل، بيكبروا يبقوا ليبراليين ويطلع ميتين أبوهم علشان علّموا على كل العيال دى وهمّ صغيرين. ↗

— مصطفى إبراهيم

#politicial #social #socialism

Seeing the glass as half empty is more positive than seeing it as half full. Through such a lens the only choice is to pour more. That is righteous pessimism. ↗

— Criss Jami

#care #choice #empty #full #glass

He smiled and squinted at me again, tilting his head up and to the right as he stared. “Maybe what I’m attracted to in you is more than your looks and your brain and your humor.” He leaned closer like he had a secret. “It could be your soul,” he whispered. I pushed his cheek until he was squinting at the door to the kitchen instead. “Is this when you tell me I’m your soul mate, O’Neill? ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#artist #attraction #dating #glass-girl #henry-whitmire

My mom told me once that Wyatt loved her the way a boy will love his mother, but I loved her the way an artist loves another. Jo taught me what that meant. ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#artist #creativity #dating #death #family

Of course,it had to be just a rebound thing. There was no way I was interested in this arrogant, obnoxious jerk. No matter how hot he might be. ↗

— Jenna Black

#glimmerglass #keane #arrogance

But with her eyes closed, she began to whisper. “If you have someone to love, then love. If you have someone to forgive, then forgive. You think, when you’re seventeen, there’s time enough for that, but there’s not. There’s no time at all.” I squeezed her hand, trying to think of how to respond. But she took the burden from me and kept whispering. “You want to know why God gave us people to love? Because that’s the only way we can understand how he feels about us. Desperate and jealous. ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#art #artist #dating #death #dying-words