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Quote by Filipe Russo

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Caro Jovem Adulto

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Filipe Russo

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“Wow, you're quite a handful. You sure your parents didn't deliberately ship you off on that escape pod?' Much to his surprise, rather than a sarcastic retort his little charge locked huge, brown eyes on his like a frightened doe in the sights of his 30.06 and bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears. And at that very moment the term 'disarming' took on a whole new meaning and Jenkins knew he was toast.”

“You look at us old women, covered from head to toe in our tight headdresses and our long skirts, and you think we are like the nuns, afraid to show their bodies because it is a sin. But that is not so. It is because we understand nature's ways. We have lived long and deep in the bush with her. And she is a woman like us. My beauty is here now,' she said, pointing to her wrinkles and her breasts. 'There are birthmarks and then there are these. He-he. These are the marks of life. My face, just as it is, the map of my toils and joys, is as precious to me as your little waist and your rounded breasts are to you. This is testimony to the love I have given my family. There is not a mark here that is my own. It belongs to Baba va Tapiwa, Chipo, Farai, Tawona, and Ziyanai. It is a body of love. You see it as an old, dry, lifeless thing, but one day you will understand that each beauty has its season. The flaky, rough coconut protects the flesh and the sweet juices within. The body of youth knows its day and must live it to its fullest. The body of the harvest, too, has its time. That is mine. It is a body that has reaped and sown and gathered unto itself. Someday, too, will come the body of the earth, the final eternal one, which has no form or end, to which we must all return. I came to see you tonight, daughter, to tell you these words that my mother-in-law told me on my wedding night, ages ago, so that the wisdom of our ancestors may swell and ripen with each new bud that flowers. So our roots grow deeper and our words never die.”

“As women, we are always taught never to let a man know of our affections towards him, lest he laugh, run away, or think that we are psycho. But what if that's not true? Have you ever stopped to think that? What if it's like there's a beautiful little bird in our hearts and we're too afraid to let anyone see it in there? What's wrong with letting anyone know that there's a bird in your chest? Maybe there are lots of wrong ones, but maybe there's one that's just for you— the one who won't laugh or run away when he sees that little bird. After all, it’s just a pretty bird!”

“This woman's hair ... it was the most sensual hair I have ever seen. Medusa must have had hair like this and with it seduced the men who fell under her spell. It was full of life, heavy, and as pungent as if it had been bathed in sperm. To me it always felt as if it had been wrapped around a penis and soaked in secretions. It was the kind of hair I wanted to wrap around my own sex. It was warm and musky, oily, strong. It was the hair of an animal. It bristled when it was touched. Merely to pass my fingers through it could give me an erection. I would have been content just touching her hair.”

“I look at you and see a life we’ve yet to build,
a love that feels inevitable, waiting to unfold. I look at your face and ache to make you smile,
to be the reason your eyes shine just a little brighter. I look at you and want to lift you higher,
to be the arms that catch you, the voice that fuels you. I look at you and dream of a future—our future,
where your children are mine, and mine are yours. I look at you and feel invincible,
as if with you beside me, there’s nothing I can’t conquer. I look at you and hesitate, unsure how to begin,
my heart racing over a name I don’t even know. I look at you as you walk past me,
our silent moment stretching between sips of coffee. I look at you as you turn, as you smile—
and then I look at you drive away with another woman,
because in the end, we are just strangers at the coffee shop.”