#tin

I was either still dreaming or I had entered an alternate reality where I was a flippin' insane person. I doubted I had entered an alternate reality and a quick slap to my own face proved I wasn't still dreaming. -Sage Hannigan, Contingency ↗

— P.S. Martinez

#p-s-martinez #paranormal-romance #peggy-martinez #sage-hannigan #teen

... People with great passions, people who accomplish great deeds, people who possess strong feelings, even people with great minds and a strong personality, rarely come out of good little boys and girls. ↗

— Lev S. Vygotsky

#human-behavior #human-nature #parenting #nature

It was one of those things they keep in a jar in the tent of a sideshow on the outskirts of a little, drowsy town. One of those pale things drifting in alcohol plasma, forever dreaming and circling, with its peeled, dead eyes staring out at you and never seeing you. It went with the noiselessness of late night, and only the crickets chirping, the frogs sobbing off in the moist swampland. One of those things in a big jar that makes your stomach jump as it does when you see a preserved arm in a laboratory vat. ↗

— Ray Bradbury

#drifting #jar #jars #noiselessness #pale

Like so many other nerdy, disaffected young people of that time, I dreamed of becoming an 'artist', i.e., somebody whose adult job was original and creative instead of tedious and dronelike. ↗

— David Foster Wallace

#dreams

Stories are about secrets. We all have them. Secret dreams, fantasies, hopes and sometimes even desires. Occasionally a dream becomes reality and then maybe there are a million reasons for not telling anybody about it. ↗

— Rob Hopcott

#dreams

Beyond these moments, she could hardly count the fumbling ministrations of boys in high school who, even to her senior prom, never went beyond sticky pleasantries. With one exception, it was just a sort of half-clothed handshake for bragging rights, none hers. ↗

— Thomm Quackenbush

#flirting #high-school #sex #sexy #dreams

i think you will be tired of telling me & my dreams to go to hell ↗

— E.E. Cummings

#deflating #dreams #go-to-hell #dreams

I don’t reply. Surely Tucker wouldn’t bring someone back to a room knowing that I’ll be in the bed too, first shot. He wouldn’t do anything with her after last night, this morning and this afternoon, second shot. Although he is all over her and has been since we got here, third shot. Maybe I didn’t drop my knickers quick enough, fourth shot. He’s probably laughing at me for everything I told him about the dream and stuff I wince and slam the now empty jager bomb glass down. ↗

— R.S. Burnett

#hurting #dreams

Neruda had his first dream, First meeting with the Moon and the Sun In sunny La Mancha, hiding in his heart, Where he learned how to sing like a nightingale. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#heart #la-mancha #moon #neruda #nightingale

He grinned. It was a wicked grin, the kind that made the blood in Clary's veins run a little faster. "You want to go on a date?" Caught off guard, she stammered. "A wh-what?" "A date," Jace repeated. "Often 'a boring thing you have to memorize in history class,' but in this case, 'an offering of an evening of blisteringly white-hot romance with yours truly." "Really?" Clary was not sure what to make of this. "Blisteringly white-hot?" "It's me," said Jace. "Watching me play Scrabble is enough to make most women swoon. Imagine if I actually put in some effort. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#clary-fray #date #jace #repartee #dating