#lis

Burns from dropped matches, Ms. Lane? Matches one might have dropped while flirting with a pernicious Fae, Ms. Lane? Have you any idea the value of this rug?” I didn’t think his nostrils could flare any wider. His eyes were black flame. “Pernicious? Good grief, is English your second language? Third?” Only someone who’d learned English from a dictionary would use such a word. “Fifth,” he snarled. “Answer me. ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#bloodfever #mac #english

Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time and always start with the person nearest you. ↗

— Mother Teresa

#help

Christian stretched out beside her and pulled her close. ʺBut for what itʹs worth, I think youʹd be a great queen too, Princess Dragomir.ʺ ʺYouʹre going to get dirty,ʺ she warned. ʺAlready am. Oh, you mean from your clothes?ʺ He wrapped his arms around her, heedless of her damp and muddy state. ʺI spent most of my childhood hiding in a dusty attic and own exactly one dress shirt. You really think I care about this T-shirt?ʺ ↗

— Richelle Mead

#lissa-dragomir #childhood

I shall be dark and French and fashionable and difficult. And you shall be sweet and open and English and fair. What a pair we shall be! What man can resist us? ↗

— Philippa Gregory

#english

An immense body, encircling my delirium, a body made of wind and sunlight, crouching and stretching, encompassed the existence of the slightest human echo. ↗

— Joë Bousquet

#echo #surrealism #surreal

What is admirable about the fantastic is that there is no longer anything fantastic: there is only the real. ↗

— André Breton

#fantastique #fantasy #surrealism #surreal

Now the night's breath responds to the sea, which I can scarcely hear from here, as it reminisces about its shipwrecks. ↗

— Joë Bousquet

#sea #surrealism #surreal

The imaginary is what tends to become real. ↗

— André Breton

#imaginattion #reality #surrealism #surreal

The clouds were disappearing rapidly, leaving the stars to die. The night dried up. ↗