#ship

My Emma, does not every thing serve to prove more and more the beauty of truth and sincerity in all our dealings with each other? ↗

— Jane Austen

#inter-relationship #sincerity #truth #beauty

Since then, I've observed that a charismatic personality who's willing to take risks only for personal gain does not make a good leader. Principle-centered leadership is based on selfless courage, practical wisdom and moral objectives. It's based on honesty and focused on achieving what is best for others, whether they understand it or not. Consequently, great leaders are not always popular, but they are consistent. ↗

— Kenneth E. Behring

#leadership #courage

I'm a beautiful son of a gun! ↗

— Up Starship Starkid

#beauty

Her eyes take on that suspicious, wounded look girls get when they know they've fallen off the top rung of friendship and someone else has passed them, but they don't know when or how the change took place. ↗

— Libba Bray

#friendship #libba-bray #beauty

You can put the girl in a relationship...," I began, putting my arm around her. "But you can't take the boy-crazy out of the girl," Cassie finished. ↗

— Jocelyn Davies

#a-fractured-light #boy-crazy #cassie #friends #girls

Jamal Crawford reminds me the most of myself, the way he goes to the basket. But they need leadership. ↗

— Earl Monroe

#crawford #goes #leadership #me #most

The desire to love someone always exceeds the desire to be loved by someone & that's exactly why we end up loving the person who doesn't deserve that LOVE. ↗

— Anirban Bose

#life #love #relationships #life

What do you think?” I asked, a teasing smile curving my lips. “Did we know each other in another life?” He gave a faint smile. “I can guarantee it.” I looked up at him, surprised by his seriousness. “Oh really?” I said, cocking an eyebrow coyly, “So what was I like, oh-expert-on-my-past-life?” A smile touched his lips. As he thought, he seemed to be in another place. When he came out of his trance, he answered, “Similar to how you are now. Smart,funny, stunningly beautiful . . . and you were a horrible pool player then too.” He laughed as I punched him in the shoulder. “Very funny,” I said. “Your punches used to hurt less though. ↗

— Angela Corbett

#beauty

I turn my head a little. The radio's caroling "Tonight," velvety smooth and young and filled with plaintive desire. Maria's song from West Side Story. I remember one beautiful night long ago at the Winter Garden, with a beautiful someone beside me. I tilt my nose and breathe in, and I can still smell her perfume, the ghost of her perfume from long ago. But where is she now, where did she go, and what did I do with her? Our paths ran along so close together they were almost like one, the one they were eventually going to be. Thin fear came along, fear entered into it somehow, and split them wide apart. Fear bred anxiety to justify. Anxiety to justify bred anger. The phone calls that wouldn't be answered, the door rings that wouldn't be opened. Anger bred sudden calamity. Now there aren't two paths anymore; there's only one, only mine. Running downhill into the ground, running downhill into its doom. ("New York Blues") ↗

— Cornell Woolrich

#relationships #romance #anger

Nothing is stranger or more ticklish than a relationship between people who know each other only by sight, who meet and observe each other daily - no hourly - and are nevertheless compelled to keep up the pose of an indifferent stranger, neither greeting nor addressing each other, whether out of etiquette or their own whim. ↗

— Thomas Mann

#strangers #death