#mary

If I could sew comedy and philosophy together, then I've done a good job. The primary goal is always going to be laughs and the secondary goal is always going to be saying something without it being a lecture. ↗

— Hal Sparks

#being #comedy #could #done #goal

And," added Mikey. "she's my sister." The others looked at him for a moment, and broke out laughing. "Yeah, yeah," Squirrel scoffed, "and the McGill is my cousin." Now Allie burst out laughing, which made Mikey more annoyed. "If the McGill was your cousin," Mikey said, "I can guarantee he'd disown you. ↗

— Neal Shusterman

#cousin #funny #mary #mcgill #squirrel

The Pilgrim Queen (A Song) There sat a Lady all on the ground, Rays of the morning circled her round, Save thee, and hail to thee, Gracious and Fair, In the chill twilight what wouldst thou there? 'Here I sit desolate,' sweetly said she, 'Though I'm a queen, and my name is Marie: Robbers have rifled my garden and store, Foes they have stolen my heir from my bower. 'They said they could keep Him far better than I, In a palace all His, planted deep and raised high. 'Twas a palace of ice, hard and cold as were they, And when summer came, it all melted away. 'Next would they barter Him, Him the Supreme, For the spice of the desert, and gold of the stream; And me they bid wander in weeds and alone, In this green merry land which once was my own.' I look'd on that Lady, and out from her eyes Came the deep glowing blue of Italy's skies; And she raised up her head and she smiled, as a Queen On the day of her crowning, so bland and serene. 'A moment,' she said, 'and the dead shall revive; The giants are failing, the Saints are alive; I am coming to rescue my home and my reign, And Peter and Philip are close in my train. ↗

— John Henry Newman

#mary #queen #home

He turned, throwing over hi shoulder, ”And if he growls at you, even once, he’s out. He looks wild.” I am, Riley snapped inside her head. Do not laugh, she thought to herself. Her dad paused at the door. “Where does it stay while you’re at school?” It. Nice. “Outside.” “You could be inviting flees into our home, Mary Ann.” No. Laughing. “He’s clean, Dad. I swear. But if I spot a single little bug, I’ll bathe him.” That could prove interesting, Riley said. ↗

— Gena Showalter

#mary-ann #riley #humor

I have learned to float, but I have not yet learned to swim, as I only got about three strokes in before I went under out in the salt water. I think the legs got to be made to help somehow. Further study is necessary. ↗

— L.A Meyer

#mary-jacky-faber #humor

If you take someone's thoughts and feelings away bit by bit, consistently then they have nothing left, except some gritty, gnawing, shitty little instinct, down there, somewhere worming round the gut, but so far down, so hidden, its impossible to find. Imagine, if you will, a worldwide conspiracy to deny the colour yellow. And whenever you say yellow, they told you, no, that isn't yellow, what the fuck's yellow? Eventually, whenever you saw yellow, you would say; that isn't yellow, course it isn't blue or green or purple, or... you'd say it, yes it is, its yellow and become increasingly hysterical and then go quite berserk. ↗

— David Edgar

#imagination

Intelligence is not how much you know, but how you use it. ↗

— Maryann Austin

#maryann-austin #intelligence

Red", I write "is the color of life. It's blood, passion, rage. It's menstrual flow and after birth. Beginnings and violent end. Red is the color of love. Beating hearts and hungry lips. Roses, Valentines, cherries. Red is the color of shame. Crimson cheeks and spilled blood. Broken hearts, opened veins. A burning desire to return to white. ↗

— Mary Hogan

#pretty-face #red #life

Koschei smiled. His pale lips sought hers, crushing her into a kiss like dying. She tasted sweetness there, as though he still kissed her with honey and sugar on his tongue. When he pulled away, his eyes shone. "I don't care, Marya Morevna. Kiss him. Take him to your bed, and the vila, too, for all it matters to me. Do you understand me, wife? There need never be any rules between us. Let us be greedy together; let us hoard. Let us hit each other with birch branches and lock each other in dungeons; let us drink each other's blood in the night and betray each other in the sun. Let us lie and lust and take hundreds of lovers; let us dance until snow melts beneath us. Let us steal and eat until we grow fat and roll in the pleasures of life, clutching each other for purchase. Only leave me my death — let me hold this one thing sacred and unmolested and secret — and I will serve you a meal myself, served on a platter of all the world's bounty. Only do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me, and no empress will stand higher. Forget the girls in the factory. Be selfish and cruel and think nothing of them. I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I. I will have you in my hoard, Marya Morevna, my black mirror. ↗

— Catherynne M. Valente

#marya-morevna #death

Its called a playground, but its nearer to a battlefield. It can be brutal ↗

— Keith Richards

#life