#yes

In reality, everyone is good in bed. Close eyes. Shutdown brain. Pause as necessary. Restart brain. Open eyes. What's there to not be good at? Bed is the one place where laziness is rewarded. ↗

— John Dobbin

#brain #close #everyone #eyes #good

I’m thinking of changing my name to “Son of Manana.” Of course it isn’t accurate, because I’m the father of yesterday.
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#accurate #father #manana #name #thinking

Eyes so transparent that through them the soul is seen. ↗

— Theophile Gautier

#seen #soul #them #through #transparent

My grandma came over yesterday, and I had just jumped out of the shower, so I answered the door in my towel. I know it was a little indecent, but I didn’t have time to dry off and change out of my wetsuit.
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#humor #shower #yesterday #change

But I didn't see it. I believed him unchanging, a stone in all good senses of the word, solid, dependable, something and someone you could build upon. But he is as we all are: light as air, transient as wisps of cloud before the sun, beautiful and fleeting, and if I ever did truly have hold of him, that has ended now. ↗

— Ally Condie

#cassia-reyes #change #love #matched #reached

She didn't say anything—at least, not with her mouth. Her eyes told me a different story. The only problem was that they each had a thousand tongues talking, each in a language I didn't speak. ↗

— J.X. Burros

#eyes #scarlet-spotlight #communication

In it she told me, "Thanks a lot! I'm ruined - gloriously ruined." I nodded with sudden understanding. "that's it - that describes what has happened to me." I was ruined for life as I had known it before, but gloriously ruined! ↗

— Kay Warren

#kay-warren #say-yes-to-god #courage

Her eyes were of different colors, the left as brown as autumn, the right as gray as Atlantic wind. Both seemed alive with questions that would never be voiced, as if no words yet existed with which to frame them. She was nineteen years old, or thereabouts; her exact age was unknown. Her face was as fresh as an apple and as delicate as blossom, but a marked depression in the bones beneath her left eye gave her features a disturbing asymmetry. Her mouth never curved into a smile. God, it seemed, had withheld that possibility, as surely as from a blind man the power of sight. He had withheld much else. Amparo was touched—by genius, by madness, by the Devil, or by a conspiracy of all these and more. She took no sacraments and appeared incapable of prayer. She had a horror of clocks and mirrors. By her own account she spoke with Angels and could hear the thoughts of animals and trees. She was passionately kind to all living things. She was a beam of starlight trapped in flesh and awaiting only the moment when it would continue on its journey into forever.” (p.33) ↗

— Tim Willocks

#apple #asymmetry #atlantic #autumn #blind-man

It is often said that before you die your life passes before your eyes. It is in fact true. It's called living. ↗

— Terry Pratchett

#called #die #eyes #fact #in fact

Sometimes the hardest goodbyes are the ones never said, the ones that always just hang there in the back of the mind like a dark cloud. There's so much to say but no one to say it to because the person you want most to hear it is already gone. That's how he felt. Sorrow, regret, a wound so deep it didn't even bleed. Like a puncture wound, an ache that didn't heal but just hurt. He didn't know if he wanted it to heal. That'd be too much like a final goodbye. ↗

— Virginia Brown

#goodbyes #grief #death