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S Quotes

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All S Quotes

“sabes por vezes queria beijar-te sei que consentirias mas se nos tivéssemos dado um ao outro ter-nos-íamos separado porque os beijos apagam o desejo quando consentidos foi melhor sabermos quanto nos queríamos sem ousarmos sequer tocar nossos corpos hoje tenho pena parto com essa ferida tenho pena de não ter percorrido o teu corpo como percorro os mapas com os dedos teria viajado em ti do pescoço às mãos da boca ao sexo tenho pena de nunca ter murmurado o teu nome acordado perto de ti as noites teriam sido de ouro e as mãos teriam guardado o sabor do teu corpo”

“Sabia que Lisboa não era Berlim, com dezenas de jornais que as pessoas liam em todo o lado, no metro, nas mesas de café, nas paragens de autocarro, onde as parangonas faziam cair ministros e presidentes em poucos dias. Em Lisboa, nada disso acontecia. Qualquer que fosse o escândalo revelado pela imprensa, o entretenimento nas televisões acabava por desviar as atenções.”

“Sabina saw another river flow, another semantic river: each time the same object would give rise to a new meaning, though all former meanings would resonate (like an echo, like a parade of echoes) together with the new one. Each new experience would resound, each time enriching the harmony. … Now, perhaps, we are in a better position to understand the abyss separating Sabina and Franz: he listened eagerly to the story of her life and she was equally eager to hear the story of his, but although they had a clear understanding of the logical meaning of the words they exchanged, they failed to hear the semantic susurrus of the river flowing through them.”

“Sabine gestured to him with the half-eaten crust. "I like him. Not sure why he's wasting his time with the pole dancer, though." Tod laughed out loud and I groaned. "Sophie takes ballet and jazz. She's not a pole dancer." "There's more money in pole dancing," Sabine insisted.”

“SABINE THINGS HAVE BECOME SO DIFFICULT. I MUSTN'T WRITE AGAIN. THIS WHOLE AFFAIR HAS GOTTEN TOO INTENSE. TOO REAL, SABINE, YOU DON'T EXIST. I INVENTED YOU. YOU, THE CARDS, THE STAMPS. THE ISLANDS, YOU'RE A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION. I WAS LONELY AND I WANTED A FRIEND. BUT I'M ALMOST OUT OF CONTROL. I'VE STARTED TO THINK I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU. BEFORE IT TAKES ME OVER IT HAS TO STOP. GOODBYE. GRIFFIN”

“Sabiosultan, El Soneto Me preguntan ¿creo en el destino? Claro que sí, lo estás mirando. Yo soy el destino, de la humanidad; Yo soy el destino del mundo entero. Yo soy el puente – entre todo, Ciencia, poesía, filosofía, todo. Yo soy el puente entre todo y todos, Soy el puente entre corazones vivos. No soy un siervo del intelecto, No soy un siervo de la tradición. Soy un soldado del valle de la vida, Más allá de las riñas del sentido muerto. ¿Quién soy? O mejor aún, ¿qué soy? Soy una chispa de razón templada por la calidez. Yo soy valentía atemperada por la humildad, Yo soy la justicia atemperada por la conciencia. No soy ni hombre ni mujer, No soy ni mente ni máquina; No soy ni cabeza ni corazón, No soy ni cuerpo ni columna. Sólo soy esa - esa verdad eterna, Que supera todos los prejuicios y falacias. Sólo soy esa - esa luz incorruptible, Que brilla como prueba de la humanidad unida.”

“Sabism is an art and theatric movement of 21st century occupied with the philotipes, mythologic forms, schematism and chromatic scales, dual art, logism of color, cult art, conglomeration. As an art movement it tries to explore word act, group performance, collective structure, fruitfulness and aesthetics of multitude through philotipes as implicit connotation of colors or schemes in their general use (honeysuckle yellow, female, courtly, savage, dionysiaque).”

“Sable hair bisected his pecs and arrowed down to the straight and unequivocal statement of his returned interest. Forcing my gaze to his face, I said, "I really don't think we have time for that." "You know that, and I know that, but HE doesn't believe it." "Believe it," I told HIM. J.X.'s mouth tugged into one of those heart-stopping smiles. "Maybe you should whisper in his ear.”

“Sabotage isolated them from their home, thwarting any hope of outside help. Frantic, unreliable sightings of frightening things – horrible things - led to chaos. The crew, terrified, opted to die fighting and went hunting for their attacker. Kaine’s only regret was that they found it. It killed them all. Systematically.”

“Sabrina Fairchild is about David's age, and will look very much as she does now when she is very much older, for she is one of the lucky ones in whom youth and age will never be measured by days and years. She is beautifully and tastefully and expensively dressed in travelling clothes that show off a very good figure. No one could look more chic. She is not pretty, but her face is appealing and bright with animation and reflects the inner glow of a girl in love, for Sabrina Fairchild has fallen in love with the world and is carrying on a passionate affair with it. Now, as we first see her, her face is a galaxy of complicated emotions. She is eagerly happy to see these people whom she adores, but she is shy, too, for they are not her family, and the past five years have not altogether dissipated the shyness that was ingrained from childhood. This trace of shyness, however, is not apparent to the people who watch her come towards them.”

“Sabrina surely had one dead ex-boyfriend on her record. But did Martina have a deceased ex-boyfriend in her past too? Biggie’s words swirled in my head, mixing with the reality I faced: ’Sabrina reminding me of Lil Cease with her crocodile teeth, the warpath we rode apart and together, our laughter, our tears—my tears, their laughter—the player haters, the cocaine-snorting bitches, the cats with no dough, try to play me at my show, pull up and crack doors, short-change bitches with 5 to 20 euro notes not enough to powder their beak and nose. They still tickle me, Sabrina and them midgets cripple me, make me as hard as Martina's nipples be, I'm sour like a pickle be. You disobey the rules. Now the year’s new and I want my spot back; fake two, all the planes I flew, all the bitches I went through, mothersnuggers mad, cause I’m blue, bitches envy us, too many bitches in my club guard your dogs before I stick you for your re-up, maniacs put my name in raps, living by hugs from fake friends, your whole life you live sneaky, you burn when you creep me, you slipping try to break me, living by my love, hating me, they like to hustle backward, Acid rain, Cadillac Fleetwood look what you made me do, you made me and my girl Marine blue make you, open the safe too’ Della Reese had been on my mind since a while as if she wanted to tell me something a wisdom she wanted to share with me. The lyrics and the words the bad people played mindgames with me kept mixing up in my head. ’Maniacs put my name in raps; the club is dead without me they can hustle only backwards with all the beef against me. Blunt wraps and Dutchies, all the smoking accessories; they can't touch me. One third is on me. Martina's butt a public touchy-touchy. My enemies holding their cats shaky. Sabrina is dead or alive, her ghost is under me.”

“Sabrina Thomas clutched the leather-bound notebook to her chest and tried not to be impatient as the elevator in the south tower of Texas Hospital near downtown Dallas stopped once again on its climb to the eighteenth and top floor. But it was difficult. Dr. Cade Mathis, the bane of her existence, would reach Mrs. Ward’s room first and then there’d be hell to pay. Sabrina jabbed the button to close the doors as soon as the last person stepped onto the already crowded elevator.”

“Sabrina turned back to the house and saw the horrible truth- a pair of legs was sticking out from beneath it and they were wearing a pari of shiny silver shoes with a remarkable red tint to them. She suddenly realized they hadn't just entered a story. They had entered one of the most famous stories ever told. "Daphne, I don't think we're in Ferryport Landing anymore.”

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