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I Quotes

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All I Quotes

“It wasn’t just a coincidence — it was all meant to happen. I walked hundreds of miles, wandered through streets and alleyways, drifting along strange paths with no sense of direction. I searched for you in every passing face, certain you were among them. Until I saw that look drawn across your forehead… and only then, did I realize — you were never the one I was searching for.”

“It wasn't just the way he always looked at her- with a mix of genuine joy and longing rolled into one- or his appearance, although he wasn't hard on the eyes with those rippling pectorals. She found herself drawn to those kind blue eyes and the hard line of his jaw, which moved when he was thinking. It was the dimples in his cheeks when he flashed her that magnetic smile, and the way his reddish blond hair had a single curl that was always falling in front of his eyes. But mostly it was that earnest nature of his, and his need to find the good in every situation, which was so different from how she viewed life, and gave her hope that the world could be more than she imagined it to be.”

“It wasn't just this street that she was afraid of or that was bad. It was any street where people were packed together like sardines in a can. And it wasn't just this city. It was any city where they set up a line and say black folks stay on this side and white folks on this side, so that the black folks were crammed on top of each other—jammed and packed and forced into the smallest possible space until they were completely cut off from light and air. It was any place where the women had to work to support the families because the men couldn't get jobs and the men got bored and pulled out and the kids were left without proper homes because there was nobody around to put a heart into it. Yes. It was any place where people were so damn poor they didn't have time to do anything but work, and their bodies were the only source of relief from the pressure under which they lived; and where the crowding together made the young girls wise beyond their years. It all added up to the same thing, she decided—white people. She hated them. She would always hate them.”

“It wasn’t like I had started magically eating two entire meals in a day. I would still survive the day with black coffee and apples, but it just seemed like I’d taken one step heavenwards. The mirror felt a little less frightening with each passing day. It was refreshing to talk to someone who was fully convinced that my eating disorder was as real as I thought.”

“It wasn't like Naina didn't know what an orgasm felt like. Riz, her vibrator, had some goodly miles on him. But when Vansh said he was going to make her scream, she was never again taking that lightly. Her throat felt raw as she sagged against him like he'd wring every last drop of pleasure from her, wrung every last scream and whimper from her. Had she begged? Yes, she'd begged. He'd taken her by surprise. Yet, God, he hadn't. He was panting between her legs like someone who'd sprinted up a hill. One of her knees was hooked over his shoulder. There was a thunderstorm inside her. Her entire wet body was throbbing and spasming like she'd turned into her vagina, all of her that one beautifully, blessedly pleasured organ.”

“It wasn’t like this in the stories. In the old tales, when a young man went forth to have adventures, he endured his trials and came forth triumphant. He became a leader, or acquired a magical skill, or at the very least wed a princess. Maybe all three. There was never any question, not even in the darkest moment, that the hero would conquer both his enemies and his self-doubt. Perhaps that was why I had been angry with Simon, because I wanted the ending of his story to be the good one he deserved.”

“It wasn’t long before the court systems began to mandate AA attendance for drug and alcohol offenders. AA won a landmark decision in 1966 when two decisions from a federal appeals court upheld the disease concept of alcoholism and the court’s use of it, despite the fact that there was scant precedent for a US court of law to assign itself the power of medical diagnosis. Although later decisions would rule court-mandated 12-step attendance unconstitutional, judges still refer people to AA as part of sentencing or as a condition of probation. Dr. Arthur Horvath, a past president of the Division on Addictions of the American Psychological Association, summarizes the current legal status of this practice: "If you have been convicted of an offense related to addiction, it is common to be ordered to attend support groups, treatment, or both. It has also been common that you would be ordered, not just to a support group, but to Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) specifically, or to another 12-step based group. Based on recent court decisions, if you have been ordered to attend a 12-step group or 12-step based treatment by the government (the order could be coming from a court, prison officer, probation or parole officer, licensing board or licensing board diversion program, or anyone authorized to act on behalf of the government), you have the right not to attend them. However, you can still be required to attend some form of support group, and some type of treatment. These court decisions are based on the finding that AA is religious enough that being required to attend it would be similar to requiring someone to attend church. Five US Circuit Courts of Appeal (the 2nd, 3rd, 7th, 8th, and 9th) have made similar rulings. . . . The 2nd Circuit Court decision states that AA “placed a heavy emphasis on spirituality and prayer, in both conception and in practice,” that participants were told to “pray to God,” and that meetings began and adjourned with “group prayer.” The court therefore had “no doubt” that AA meetings were “intensely religious events.” Although some have suggested that AA is spiritual but not religious, the court found AA to be religious.”

“It wasn't lost on him, the poetry, the symmetry of this last bite. Everything had begun with a taste of liver. Now it would end with one. Kostya reached inside himself, to the place in his gut that felt inevitable, an entry point, its emptiness like a door. He reached for his dad. For Frankie. For the other side. He could almost feel the hands of the Dead reaching out for him in turn. He placed the pufferfish liver onto his tongue. Wet, cold, slippery with blood. Toxic, exotic, a once-in-a-lifetime taste. He chewed hard, fast, before he lost his nerve. Fatty, mineral, metallic, cream. Bitter, in the back of his throat. Tears streamed down his face. Liquid fear. Like salt, he told Maura, instead of goodbye, and swallowed.”

“It wasn't Mamigonian who made my parents stay in San Ignacio instead of moving to Fresno, say, where there really was an Armenian colony, whose members supported each other and kept the old language and customs and religion alive, and at the same time became happier and happier to be in California. My father could have become a belived teacher again! Oh, no--it wasn't Mamigonian who tricked him into being the unhappiest and loneliest of all the world's cobblers.”

“It wasn't me. Mrs Queenie Bligh, she wasn't even there. This woman was a beauty -- he couldn't get enough of her. He liked the downy softness of the blonde hairs on her legs. Her nipples were the pinkest he'd ever seen. Her throat -- he just had to kiss her throat. This woman was as sexy as any starlet on a silver screen. The zebra of their legs twined and untwined together on the bed. Her hands, pale as a ghost's, caressed every part of his nut-brown skin. She was so desirable he polished her with hot breath -- his tongue lapping between her legs like a cat with cream. It wasn't me. This woman watching his buttocks rise and fall sucked at every finger on his hand. She clawed his back and cried out until his mouth lowering down filled hers with his eager tongue. It wasn't me. This woman panted and thrust and bit. And when he rolled her over she yelped wickedly into the pillow. Mrs Queenie Bligh would never do such a thing. That one, Mrs Bligh, usually worked out what she could make for dinner during sexual relations with her husband. But this woman, if it hadn't been for the blackout, could have lit up London.”