#sag

Kevin looks at me and I know he isn’t seeing the little girl I use to be, all pigtails and gangly limbs. He isn’t seeing my mother’s daughter or even my mother anymore. As his eyes linger over me, stopping here and there in the most uncomfortable places, I know he isn’t really even seeing me as I am. The bloodshot eyes staring out of the alcohol-flushed face are seeing a girl, nearly of age, who owes him a tremendous debt of gratitude.--Rocky Evans ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#historical-fiction #love #romance #romantic-suspense #teens

I know how you guys feel about us. I'm not stupid, and believe me, I've tried to get you out of my head. But there isn't enough liquor or art or any other distraction in the world to do it. I had to stop going to Wolfe's because it was too hard being that close to you, even if it was all just pretend fighting. I couldn't stand the touching. It was agonizing because it meant something to me－and I knew it meant nothing to you. I kept telling myself to stay away altogether, and then I'd find excuses… like the car… anything to be around you again. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#sydney-sage #art

The intersection of pork and man was circumscribed with vagueness. Until now sausage was a mysterious world: the fenced-in landscapes of strange, exotic muds, the cloak-and-dagger butchers that veiled their conversations in Old French, the silencing of whole towns upon a nocturnal report of a flying swarm of oinks, the secret herbs and spices involved in the intestinal displacement before my screen. My own sacred art suddenly stirred a sense of understanding in me as to why pig farmers were so reluctant to explain their missing bicuspids to outsiders: sausage could not have effects. ↗

— Benson Bruno

#mystery #sausage #secret-society #art

Look on every exit as being an entrance somewhere else. ↗

— Tom Stoppard

#chances #doors #entrance #exit #opportunities

You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen walking this earth. ↗

— Michelle Mead

#sydney-sage #the-golden-lily #beauty

After so many years even the fire of passion dies, and with it what was believed the light of the truth. Who of us is able to say now whether Hector or Achilles was right, Agamemnon or Priam, when they fought over the beauty of a woman who is now dust and ashes? ↗

— Umberto Eco

#homer #iliad #justification #mythology #passage-of-time

I wasn’t interesting. And he was. Interesting… and brilliant… and mysterious… and perfect… and beautiful… and possibly able to lift full-sized vans with one hand. -Bella Swan ↗

— Stephenie Meyer

#twilight #twilight-saga #beauty

I am careful not to confuse excellence with perfection. Excellence, I can reach for; perfection is God's business. ↗

— Michael J. Fox

#life-message #perfection #business

The photographic image... is a message without a code. ↗

— Roland Barthes

#image #message #photographic #without

You’re presumptuous and arrogant and a whole lot of other things if you think I’ve changed my mind.” “You see, that’s just it.” There he was again, moving into my space. “I think you like the ‘other things. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#indigo-spell #richelle-mead #sydney-sage #change