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Quote by Mitta Xinindlu

“The positive thing about being Masked Up is that it saves us from witnessing all the fake smiles that are aimed at us.”

Quote by Mitta Xinindlu

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Mitta Xinindlu

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“Hey!" she says. "Sorry I'm late." I look at my watch. "It's nine-forty-five. We said nine." Her cheeks turn pink. "I know. I'm sorry. I overslept." "With the muscular Asian dude?" The pink in her cheeks deepens to a dark red. "His name is Jackson." "Ah, yes, another suitor you can pump and dump." "Hey!" Her indignation yields to her usual feistiness. "Listen to you- 'pump and dump.' You do realize that's a stock-trading expression. It has nothing to do with dating." "It does now.”

Call OutNightcapsOverslept
Book:The Girls' Guide to Love and Supper Clubs
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“She couldn't help but be aware of the man at her side as he picked up books and read the descriptions on the back. He held one up with a man staring off into the distance, hands on hips. "What about this one?" Sloane wrinkled her nose. "Oh, you mean men's fiction? I've read it, but it's not really my thing." He lifted a brow. "Men's fiction?" "You know how they have women's fiction because it could only be of interest to women? The same thing happens with men. But they don't call it men's fiction. It's just fiction, because of course both men and women, and all genders alike, are always enthralled by whatever men are doing as they seek to find themselves and the true meaning of life." "Sexism, in literature, you mean." "Yes!”

LiteratureSexismCall OutFiction Genres
Book:A Legend in the Baking
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“It was a damned near-run thing, I must admit,' said Jack, modestly; then after a pause he laughed and said, 'I remember your using those very words in the old Bellerophon, before we had our battle.' 'So I did,' cried Dundas. 'So I did. Lord, that was a great while ago.' 'I still bear the scar,' said Jack. He pushed up his sleeve, and there on his brown forearm was a long white line. 'How it comes back,' said Dundas; and between them, drinking port, they retold the tale, with minute details coming fresh to their minds. As youngsters, under the charge of the gunner of the Bellerophon, 74, in the West Indies, they had played the same game. Jack, with his infernal luck, had won on that occasion too: Dundas claimed his revenge, and lost again, again on a throw of double six. Harsh words, such as cheat, liar, sodomite, booby and God-damned lubber flew about; and since fighting over a chest, the usual way of settling such disagreements in many ships, was strictly forbidden in the Bellemphon, it was agreed that as gentlemen could not possibly tolerate such language they should fight a duel. During the afternoon watch the first lieutenant, who dearly loved a white-scoured deck, found that the ship was almost out of the best kind of sand, and he sent Mr Aubrey away in the blue cutter to fetch some from an island at the convergence of two currents where the finest and most even grain was found. Mr Dundas accompanied him, carrying two newly sharpened cutlasses in a sailcloth parcel, and when the hands had been set to work with shovels the two little boys retired behind a dune, unwrapped the parcel, saluted gravely, and set about each other. Half a dozen passes, the blades clashing, and when Jack cried out 'Oh Hen, what have you done?' Dundas gazed for a moment at the spurting blood, burst into tears, whipped off his shirt and bound up the wound as best he could. When they crept aboard a most unfortunately idle, becalmed and staring Bellerophon, their explanations, widely different and in both cases so weak that they could not be attempted to be believed, were brushed aside, and their captain flogged them severely on the bare breech. 'How we howled,' said Dundas. 'You were shriller than I was,' said Jack. 'Very like a hyena.”

HumourDuels
Book:The Commodore
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