#v

...about clichés. Avoid them like the plague. ↗

— Khaled Hosseini

#writing-advice #writing-advice

Its hard to hate my prep team. They're such total idiots. ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#hunger-games #idiots #katniss #octavia #prepping

The journey home was made short by Ronan’s tales of research on love. He confessed to Katie he was not good at expressing his inner feelings. He adopted the Socratic Method and asked all his friends and family for advice. They proved no help so he enlisted the help of Lovely Lucy Looney, the local librarian. He went and researched love, sex and flirting. He spoke of Lucy’s shock on his many visits to the library and his mortification but Katie’s love was worth all embarrassment. She was touched by his Herculean efforts and knew he was her soul mate ↗

— Annette J. Dunlea

#annette-j-dunlea #irish-writer #family

Next, the cranky priest was waiting for Emily when she returned home and demanded to hear her confession. Funnily, she omitted her great sex life and just listed cursing and disobeying her parents and asked for any other sins to be forgiven. The priest was a wise old owl and had a long chat with her afterwards. He had worked himself up into a fury and talked about immoral sex. He warned her that once a girl got a bad name her reputation was gone for ever and she was on a slippery slope to pregnancy and been hidden away in the Magdalene Laundries for the rest of her life. ↗

— Annette J. Dunlea

#home

Inside a song has always been the one place I'm most at home. Music never abused me, never made me sick never tried to kill me. Music is the one thing I can't afford to lose. ↗

— J. Matthew Nespoli

#violence-against-women #home

In the mystifying world that was Victorian parenthood, obedience took precedence over all considerations of affection and happiness, and that odd, painful conviction remained the case in most well-heeled homes up until at least the time of the First World War. ↗

— Bill Bryson

#parenthood #victorian-era #home

I don’t know how long we stand there holding each other. It could be ten minutes, an hour, or a day. All I know is that when I finally let go, I can breathe. I can rest. I can live knowing that my baby girl is happy. Knowing that she felt my love. ↗

— Cassia Leo

#love #mother #home

And baby, the way you move me it's crazy ↗

— Ray Lamontagne

#romance #song-lyrics #love

I'm throwing the trash, clearing the junk I'm firing the cannon, your gonna get sunk You better sail off to the seven seas There's not enough room for you and for me (once again if you would please, "There's not enough room for you and for me") ↗

— Ke ha (run devil run)

#ke-ha #lyrics #run #song #song-lyrics

When she left for a third time and returned with a giant box, I started to get irate. "What is this?" I demanded, taking it from her. It felt like it had bricks in it. "Grandmother needs you to carry some things," Paul told me. "Yes," I said through gritted teeth. "I sort of figured that out fifty pounds ago. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#rose-hathaway #yeva #rose-hathaway