#ran

Try not thinking of peeling an orange. Try not imagining the juice running down your fingers, the soft inner part of the peel. The smell. Try and you can't. The brain doesn't process negatives. ↗

— Doug Coupland

#down #fingers #imagining #inner #juice

Propaganda is that branch of the art of lying which consists in nearly deceiving your friends without quite deceiving your enemies. ↗

— Frances Cornford

#branch #consists #deceiving #friends #lying

The 1970s, the decade of my teenage years, was a transitional period in American youth culture. ↗

— Eric Allin Cornell

#american youth #culture #decade #period #teenage

War is eternity jammed into frantic minutes that will fill a lifetime with dreams and nightmares. ↗

— John Cory

#eternity #fill #frantic #into #jammed

Would you like to borrow a pair of my panties to wave around at the next Council meeting to get the point across?” His eyes flashed. “Got any to spare?” I could’ve picked somebody rational. But no, I had to fall in love with this arrogant idiot. Come to the Keep with me, be my princess. Mourn me when your crazy dad kills me. Yeah, right. ↗

— Ilona Andrews

#funny #kate #love #funny

Since it is not granted to us to live long, let us transmit to posterity some memorial that we have at least lived. ↗

— E. Joseph Cossman

#least #let us #live #lived #long

Just because one likes to cook up a great meal or decorate their home doesn't mean they have to do it with granite counter tops and duck a l'orange. ↗

— Nadia Giosia

#cook #counter #decorate #duck #granite

It's weird when people start sentences with 'frankly' - as if their other sentences don't count. ↗

— Doug Coupland

#frankly #other #people #sentences #start

Salad bars are like a restaurant's lungs. They soak up the impurities and bacteria in the environment, leaving you with much cleaner air to enjoy. ↗

— Doug Coupland

#bacteria #bars #cleaner #enjoy #environment

With heart at rest I climbed the citadel's Steep height, and saw the city as from a tower, Hospital, brothel, prison, and such hells, Where evil comes up softly like a flower. Thou knowest, O Satan, patron of my pain, Not for vain tears I went up at that hour; But like an old sad faithful lecher, fain To drink delight of that enormous trull Whose hellish beauty makes me young again. Whether thou sleep, with heavy vapors full, Sodden with day, or, new appareled, stand In gold-laced veils of evening beautiful, I love thee, infamous city! Harlots and Hunted have pleasures of their own to give, The vulgar herd can never understand. ↗

— Charles Baudelaire

#poetry #beauty