He didn't mind if she hated him. They were never going to be a cute romantic couple like Sam and Astrid. Clean-cut, righteous, all that. The perfect couple. He and Diana were the imperfect couple.
Big don't mean ugly, and thin sho don't mean pretty. If a person wants to be pretty, they gotta walk pretty, talk pretty and act pretty. Can't nobody take pretty from you.
If you look close enough, you can see cracks in everything. And that's okay. Because when you really think about it, it's the cracks and gaps and chinks in things that let the light shine in.
This beautiful body, sweetness? It’s made for pleasure. It’s singing to me, telling me what it wants and needs. Those other idiots you were with weren’t fuckin listening.
It still hurts," she whispered. "Even when you're doing it for someone else, that doesn't stop your ribs from getting cracked, or your wrist swelling, or your cuts from bleeding.
There's a problem with wounded birds, Cassie," Connor said. "Either they fly away from you one day, or else they never get better. They stay hurt no matter what you do.
I’m not sure I trust myself around you I liked you from the start, J.D. I really wish things had been different, that's all.
When you die, you just die. No ghost, no reincarnation, no heaven. People want to believe that their souls live on or whatever, but that's only because they can't handle the idea of the world going on without them.
We didn't make ourselves," she says. "We aren't the greatest things to exist. I can't believe that. I won't believe that. We have too many faults.
You have a perfect right to consign us all to hell, rector, but you must allow us the choice of how we get there.
On this sacred path of Radical Acceptance, rather than striving for perfection, we discover how to love ourselves into wholeness.
I believe there are two kinds of people in this world. The ones who do everything right, expecting the perfect outcome every time, and those who know better.
I wanted to live. For the father and brother who I never knew and for my mother who was cheated of a life of happiness. I wanted to live for them. And I wanted to live for me.
Control your temper, or it will control you. Sometimes even remotely, like a toy car. Christmas is coming up, and for only $44.44 I’ll sell you a gift that would be perfect for the child in your life.
In the future, it’ll be my child, but it will be my child’s life, so I must name it not for me, but for it. I like how that sounds. I think I’ll call it “It.” Boy or girl, It is perfect.
I have the Denver Omelet of accents. And considering I’m from Denver, it makes sense. Now if I also lived in Cheeseland (Wisconsin) it would make perfect, yummy sense.
If I say your breasts are perfect, don’t tell me I’m wrong—prove me wrong by showing me. If more people voted with their wallets, more strippers would be elected officials.
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
The truth feels different from other things. The closest you can come to describing it is that it feels like taking a perfect breath.
Our love is perfect. And even though we may not be, our love creates a bridge that spans over our imperfections and joins us where it matters.
The first thing that came to mind was an angel. Her hair flowing and shiny. Her legs dangling, long and smooth. She looked perfect where she was, like a painting. And then I remembered that Satan was also an angel.
