#hes made of love and full of the loveliest prettiest & best things

[laurasimonsdaughter]

The Counterfeit Marquise

A literary fairy tale published in 1697, presumably by Charles Perrault and François-Timoléon De Choisy (who spent a considerable amount of his life in drag, just like the protagonists of this story).

Translated by Ranjit Bolt, featured in Warner’s Wonder tales: six stories of enchantment (1996).

Cw: gender disphoria.

The Marquis de Banneville had been married barely six months to a beautiful and highly intelligent young heiress when he was killed in battle at Saint-Denis. His widow was profoundly affected. They had still been very much in love and no domestic quarrels had disturbed their happiness. She did not allow herself an excess of grief. With none of the usual lamentations, she withdrew to one of her country houses to weep at her leisure, without constraint or ostentation. But no sooner had she arrived than it was pointed out to her, on the basis of irrefutable evidence, that she was carrying a child. At first she rejoiced at the prospect of seeing a little replica of the man she had loved so much. She was careful to preserve her husband’s precious remains, and took every possible step to keep his memory alive. Her pregnancy was very easy, but as her time drew near she was tormented by a host of anxieties. She pictured a soldier’s gruesome death in its full horror. She imagined the same fate for the child she was expecting and, unable to reconcile herself to such a distressing idea, prayed a thousand times to heaven to send her a daughter who, by virtue of her sex, would be spared so cruel a fate. She did more: she made up her mind that, if nature did not answer her wishes, she would correct her. She took all the necessary precautions and made the midwife promise to announce to the world the birth of a girl, even if it was a boy.

Thanks to these measures the business was effected smoothly. Money settles everything. The marquise was absolute mistress in her château and word soon spread that she had given birth to a girl, though the child was actually a boy. It was taken to the curé who, in good faith, christened it Marianne. The wet nurse was also won over. She brought little Marianne up and subsequently became her governess. She was taught everything a girl of noble birth should know: dancing; music; the harpsichord. She grasped everything with such precocity her mother had no choice but to have her taught languages, history, even modern philosophy. There was no danger of so many subjects becoming confused in a mind where everything was arranged with such remarkable orderliness. And what was extraordinary, not to say delightful, was that so fine a mind should be found in the body of an angel. At twelve her figure was already formed. True, she had been a little constricted from infancy with an iron corset, to widen her hips and lift her bosom. But this had been a complete success and (though I shall not describe her until her first journey to Paris) she was already a very beautiful girl. She lived in blissful ignorance, quite unaware that she was not a girl. She was known in the province as la belle Marianne. All the minor gentry roundabout came to pay court to her, believing she was a rich heiress. She listened to them all and answered their gallantries with great wit and frankness. My heart, she said to her mother one day, isn’t made for provincials. If I receive them kindly it’s because I want to please people.

Be careful, my child, said the marquise: you’re talking like a coquette.

Ah, maman, she answered, let them come. Let them love me as much as they like. Why should you worry as long as I don’t love them?

The marquise was delighted to hear this, and gave her complete licence with these young men who, in any case, never strayed beyond the bounds of decorum. She knew the truth and so feared no consequences. La belle Marianne would study till noon and spend the rest of the day at her toilette.

After devoting the whole morning to my mind, she would say gaily, It’s only right to give the afternoon to my eyes, my mouth, all this little body of mine.

Indeed, she did not begin dressing till four. Her suitors would usually have gathered by then, and would take pleasure in watching her toilette. Her chambermaids would do her hair, but she would always add some new embellishment herself. Her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in great curls. The fire in her eyes and the freshness of her complexion were quite dazzling, and all this beauty was animated and enhanced by the thousand charming remarks that poured continually from the prettiest mouth in the world. All the young men around her adored her, nor did she miss any opportunity to increase that adoration. She would herself, with exquisite grace, put pendants in her ears – either of pearls, rubies or diamonds – all of which suited her to perfection. She wore beauty spots, preferably so tiny that one could barely see them with the naked eye and, if her complexion had not been so delicate and fine, could not have seen them at all. When putting them on she made a great show of consulting now one suitor, now another, as to which would suit her best. Her mother was overjoyed and kept congratulating herself on her ingenuity. He is twelve years old, she would say to herself under her breath. Soon I should have had to think about sending him to the Military Academy, and in two years he would have followed his poor father. Whereupon, transported with affection, she would go and kiss her darling daughter, and would let her indulge in all the coquetries that she would have condemned in anyone else’s child.

This is how matters stood when the Marquise de Banneville was obliged to go to Paris to deal with a lawsuit that one of her neighbours had taken out against her. Naturally she took her daughter with her, and soon realised that a pretty young girl can be useful when it comes to making petitions. The first person she went to see was her old friend the Comtesse d’Alettef,11 to ask for her advice and her protection for her daughter. The comtesse was struck by Marianne’s beauty and so enjoyed kissing her that she did so several times. She took on herself the task of chaperoning her, and looked after her when her mother was busy with her suit, promising to keep her amused. Marianne could not have fallen into better hands. The comtesse was born to enjoy life. She had managed to separate herself from an inconvenient husband. Not that he lacked qualities (he loved pleasure as much as she did) but since they could not agree in their choice of pleasures, they had the good sense not to get in one another’s way and each followed their own inclinations. The comtesse, though not young any more, was beautiful. But the desire for lovers had given way to the desire for money, and gambling was now her chief passion. She took Marianne everywhere, and everywhere she was received with delight.

Meanwhile, the Marquise de Banneville slept easily. She was well aware of the comtesse’s somewhat dubious reputation, and would never have trusted her with a real daughter. But quite apart from the fact that Marianne had been brought up with a strong sense of virtue, the marquise wanted a little amusement and so left her to her own devices, merely telling her that she was entering a scene very different from that of the provinces; that she would encounter passionate, devoted lovers at every turn; that she must not believe them too readily; that if she felt herself giving way she was to come and tell her everything; and that in future she would look on her as a friend rather than a daughter, and give her such advice as she herself might take.

Marianne, whom people were starting to call the little marquise, promised her mother that she would disclose all her feelings to her and, relying on past experience, believed herself a match for the gallantry of the French court. This was a bold undertaking thirty years ago. Magnificent dresses were made for her; all the newest fashions tried on her. The comtesse, who presided over all this, saw to it that her hair was dressed by Mlle de Canillac. She had only some child’s earrings and a few jewels; her mother gave her all hers, which were of poor workmanship, and managed at relatively little expense to have two pairs of diamond pendants made for her ears, and five or six crisping pins for her hair. These were all the ornaments she needed. The comtesse would send her carriage for her immediately after dinner and take her to the theatre, the opera, or the gaming houses. She was universally admired. Wives and daughters never tired of caressing her, and the loveliest of them heard her beauty praised without a hint of jealousy. A certain hidden charm, which they felt but did not understand, attracted them to her and forced them to pay homage where homage was due. Everyone succumbed to her spell and her wit, which was even more irresistible than her beauty, won her more certain and lasting conquests. The first thing that captivated them was the dazzling whiteness of her complexion. The bloom in her cheeks, forever appearing and reappearing, never ceased to amaze them. Her eyes were blue and as lively as one could wish; they flashed from beneath two heavy lids that made their glances more tender and languishing. Her face was oval-shaped and her scarlet lips, which protruded slightly, would break – even when she spoke with the utmost seriousness – into a dozen delightful creases, and into a dozen even more delightful when she laughed. This exterior – so charming in itself – was enhanced by all that a good education can add to an excellent nature. There was a radiance, a modesty in the little marquise’s countenance that inspired respect. She had a sense of occasion: she always wore a cap when she went to church, never a beauty spot – avoiding the ostentation cultivated by most women. At Mass, she would say, One prays to God; at balls one dances; and one must do both with total commitment.

She had been leading a most agreeable life for three months when Carnival came round. All the princes and officers had returned from camp, and everywhere entertainments were being held again. Everyone was giving parties and there was a great ball at the Palais Royal. The comtesse, who was too old to show her face on such occasions, decided to go masked and took the little marquise with her. She was dressed as a shepherdess in an extremely simple but becoming costume. Her hair, which hung down to her waist, was tied up in great curls with pink ribbons – no pearls, no diamonds, only a beautiful cap. She had dressed herself, but even so all eyes were fixed on her. That night her beauty was triumphant.

The handsome Prince Sionad was there, dressed as a woman – a rival to the fair sex who, in the opinion of connoisseurs, took first prize for beauty. On arriving at the ball the comtesse decided to go and sit behind the lovely Sionad. Chère princesse, she said as she drew near and introduced the little marquise, here is a young shepherdess you should find worth looking at. Marianne approached respectfully and wanted to kiss the hem of the prince’s dress (or should I say the princess’s) but he lifted her up, embraced her tenderly and cried delightedly: What a lovely girl! What fine features! What a smile! What delicacy! And if I’m not mistaken, she is as clever as she is beautiful.

The little marquise had responded only with a bashful smile when a young prince came up and claimed her for a dance. At first all eyes were fixed on him, owing to his rank. But when people saw her answering his questions without awkwardness or embarrassment; saw what a feel she had for the music; how gracefully she moved; her little jumps in time; her smiles, subtle without being malicious and the fresh glow that vigorous exercise brought to her face, total silence, as at a concert, descended on the hall. The violinists found to their delight that they could hear themselves play, and everyone seemed intent on watching and wondering at her. The dance ended with applause, little of it for the prince, popular though he was.

The acclaim that the little marquise had received at the Palais Royal ball greatly increased the comtesse’s affection and concern for her. She could no longer do without her and she offered her rooms in her house, so that she could enjoy her company at her leisure. But on no account would her mother agree to this. The little marquise was almost fourteen and, if the secret of her birth was to be kept, it was vital that no one should be on intimate terms with her except her governess, who got her up and saw her into bed. She was still quite ignorant of her situation and, though she had many admirers, felt nothing for them. She cared for nothing and no one but herself and her appearance. People spoke to her of nothing else. She drank down this delicious praise in long draughts and thought herself the most beautiful person in the world; the more so since her mirror swore to her every day that the praise was justified.

One day she was at the theatre, in the first tier, when she noticed a beautiful young man in the next box. He wore a scarlet doublet embroidered with gold and silver, but what fascinated her were his dazzling diamond earrings and three or four beauty spots. She watched him intently and found his countenance so sweet and amiable that she could not contain herself, and said to the comtesse: Madame, look at that young man! Isn’t he handsome! Indeed, said the comtesse, but he is too conscious of his looks, and that is not becoming in a man. He might as well dress as a girl.

The performance went on and they said nothing more, but the little marquise often turned her head, no longer able to concentrate on the play, which was The Feign’d Alcibiades. Some days later she was at the theatre again in the third tier. The same young man, who drew such attention to himself with his extraordinary adornments, was in the second tier. He watched the little marquise at his leisure, as fascinated by her as she had been by him on the previous occasion, but less restrained. He kept turning his back on the actors, unable to take his eyes off her and she, for her part, responded in a manner less than consistent with the dictates of modesty. She felt in this exchange of looks something she had never experienced before: a certain joy at once subtle and profound, which passes from the eyes to the heart and constitutes the only real happiness in life. At last the play ended and, while they waited for the afterpiece, the beautiful young man left his box and went to ask the little marquise’s name. The porters, who saw her often, were happy to oblige him; they even told him where she lived. He now saw that she was of noble birth and decided, if possible, to make her acquaintance, even if he went no further. He resolved (love being ingenious) to enter her box by accident.

Ah, madame, he cried, I beg your pardon: I thought this was my box. The Marquise de Banneville loved intrigue and made the most of this one. Monsieur, she said to him with great frankness, we are indeed fortunate in your mistake: a man as handsome as you is welcome anywhere.

She hoped in this way to detain him so that she could look at him at her leisure; examine him and his adornments; please her daughter (whose feelings she had already detected) and, in a word, have some harmless amusement. He hesitated before deciding to remain in the box without taking a seat at the front. They asked him a hundred questions, to which he replied very wittily. His manner and tone of voice had an undeniable charm. The little marquise asked him why he wore pendants in his ears. He replied that he always had: his ears had been pierced when he was a child. As for the rest, they must excuse these little embellishments, normally only suitable for the fair sex, on the grounds of youth.

Everything suits you, monsieur, said the little marquise with a blush. You can wear beauty spots and bracelets as far as we’re concerned. You wouldn’t be the first. These days young men are always doing themselves up like girls. The conversation never flagged. When the afterpiece was over he conducted the ladies to their coach and had his follow it as far as the marquise’s house where, not daring to enter, he sent a page to present his compliments.

During the days that followed they saw him everywhere: in church; in the park; at the opera and the theatre. He was always unassuming, always respectful. He would bow low to the little marquise, not daring to approach or speak to her. He seemed to have but one object, and wasted no time in attaining it. Finally, after three weeks, the Marquise de Banneville’s brother (who was a state councillor) called and suggested that she receive a visitor – his good friend and neighbour, the Marquis de Bercour. He assured her that he was an excellent man and brought him round immediately after lunch. The marquis was the handsomest man in the world; his hair was black and arranged in thick, natural-looking curls. It was cut in line with the ears so that his diamond earrings could be seen. On this particular day he had attached to each of these a pearl. He also wore two or three beauty spots (no more) to emphasise his fine complexion.

Ah, brother, said the marquise, is this the Marquis de Bercour? Yes, madame, replied the marquis, and he cannot live any longer without seeing the loveliest girl in the world.

As he said this he turned towards the little marquise, who was beside herself with joy. They sat and talked, exchanging news, discussing amusements and new books. The little marquise was a versatile conversationalist, and they were soon at ease with one another. The old councillor was the first to leave, the marquis the last, having remained as long as he felt he could.

After this he never missed an opportunity of paying court to the girl he loved, and always made sure that everything was perfect. When the good weather came and they went out walking to Vincennes or in the Bois, they would find a magnificent collation, which seemed to have been brought there by magic, at a place specially chosen in the shade of some trees. One day there would be violins; the next oboes. The marquis had apparently given no instructions, yet it was obvious that he had arranged everything. Nevertheless, it took several days to guess who had given the little marquise a magnificent present. One morning a carrier brought a chest to her house which he said was from the Comtesse Alettef. She opened it eagerly and was delighted to find in it gloves, scents, pomades, perfumed oils, gold boxes, little toilet cases, more than a dozen snuff boxes in different styles, and countless other treasures. The little marquise wanted to thank the comtesse, who had no idea what she was talking about. She found out in the end, but reproached herself more than once for not having guessed at once.

These little attentions advanced the marquis’s cause considerably. The little marquise greatly appreciated them. Madame, she said to her mother with admirable honesty, I no longer know where I am. Once I wanted to be beautiful in everyone’s eyes; now the only person I want to find me beautiful is the marquis. I used to love balls, plays, receptions, places where there was a lot of noise. Now I’m tired of all that. My only pleasure in life is to be alone and think about the man I love. He’s coming soon, I whisper to myself. Perhaps he’ll tell me he loves me. Yes, madame, he hasn’t said that yet; hasn’t spoken those wonderful words: I love you, though his eyes and his actions have told me so a hundred times. Then, my child, replied the marquise, I’m very sorry for you. You were happy before you saw the marquis. You enjoyed everyone’s company; everyone loved you and you loved only yourself, your own person, your beauty. You were wholly consumed with the desire to please, and please you did. Why change such a delightful life? Take my advice, my dear child: let your sole concern be to profit from the advantages nature has given you. Be beautiful: you have experienced that joy; is there any other to touch it? To draw everyone’s gaze; to win all hearts; to delight people wherever one goes; to hear oneself praised continually, and not by flatterers; to be loved by all and love only oneself: that, my child, is the height of happiness, and you can enjoy it for a long time. You are a queen, don’t make yourself a slave: you must resist at the outset a passion that is carrying you away in spite of yourself. Now you command, but soon you will obey. Men are fickle: the marquis loves you today – tomorrow he will love someone else.

Stop loving me! said the little marquise. Love someone else! And she burst into tears.

Her mother, who loved her dearly, tried to console her and succeeded by telling her that the marquis was coming. There was a lot at stake and this incipient passion caused her considerable alarm. Where will it lead? she asked herself. To what bizarre conclusion. If the marquis declares himself – if he plucks up courage and asks for certain favours – she will refuse him nothing. But then, she reflected, the little marquise has been well trained; she is sensible; at most she will grant such trifling favours as will leave them in ignorance – an ignorance essential to their happiness.

They were talking like this when someone came to tell them that the marquis had sent them a dozen partridges, and that he was at the door, not daring to enter as he had just returned from hunting.

Send him in! cried the little marquise. We want to see him in his hunting clothes. He entered a moment later, all apologies for powder marks, sun burn and a dishevelled wig. No, no, said the little marquise. I assure you, we like you better dressed informally like this than in all your finery. If that is so, madame, he replied, next time you will see me dressed as a stoker.

He remained standing, as though about to leave. They made him sit and the marquise, kind soul, told them to sit together while she went to her study to write. The chambermaids knew what was what and withdrew to the dressing-room, leaving the lovers alone together. They were silent for a while. The little marquise, still flustered after her talk with her mother, scarcely dared raise her eyes, and the marquis, even more embarrassed, looked at her and sighed. There was something tender in this silence. The looks they exchanged, the sighs they could not contain, were for them a form of language – a language lovers often use – and their mutual embarrassment seemed to them a sign of love. The little marquise was the first to awake from this reverie.

You’re dreaming, marquis, she said. What of? Hunting? Ah, beautiful marquise, said the marquis, how lucky hunters are! They are not in love. What do you mean? she rejoined. Is being in love really so terrible? Madame, he replied, it is the greatest happiness in life. But unrequited love is the greatest misfortune. I am in love and it is not requited. I am in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. Venus herself would not dare put herself before her. I love her and she does not love me. She has no feelings. She sees me, she listens to me, and she remains cruelly silent. She even turns her eyes away from mine. How heartless! How can I doubt my fate? As he spoke these last words, the marquis knelt down before the little marquise and kissed her hands – nor did she object. Her eyes were lowered and let fall great tears.

Beautiful marquise, he said, you’re crying. You’re crying and I know the reason for your tears. My love is irksome to you. Ah, marquis, she answered with a heavy sigh, one can cry for joy as well as pain. I’ve never been so happy. She said no more and, stretching out her arms to her beloved marquis, granted him the favours she would have denied all the kings of the earth. Caresses were all the protestations of love they needed. The marquis found in the little marquise’s lips a compliance that her eyes had hidden from him, and this conversation would have lasted longer if the marquise had not emerged from her study. She found them laughing and crying at the same time, and wondered whether such tears had ever needed drying.

The marquis immediately rose to leave, but the marquise said to him pleasantly: Monsieur, won’t you stay and dine on the partridges you brought? He needed little persuading. What he desired more than anything else in the world was to be on familiar terms in this house. He stayed, even though he was dressed in hunting clothes, and had the exquisite pleasure of seeing the girl he loved eat. It is one of life’s chief delights. To watch at close quarters a pink mouth that, as it opens, reveals gums of coral and teeth of alabaster; that opens and closes with the rapidity that accompanies all the actions of youth; to see a beautiful face animated by an often repeated pleasure, and to be experiencing the same pleasure at the same time – this is a privilege love grants to few.

After that happy day the marquis made sure he dined there every night. It was a regular affair and the little marquise’s suitors, who had had no cause to be jealous of one another, took it as settled. She had made her choice and they all admitted that beauty and vanity, however powerful, are no defence against love. The Comte d’****, one of her most ardent admirers, had a keen sense that his passion was being made light of. He was handsome, well built, brave, a soldier: he could not allow the little marquise to give herself to the Marquis de Bercour, whom he considered vastly inferior in every respect to himself. He decided to pick a quarrel with him and so disgrace him, thinking him too effeminate to dare cross swords with him. However, to his great surprise, at the first word he uttered when they met at the Porte des Tuileries, the marquis drew his sword and thrust at him with gusto. After a hard-fought duel they were parted by mutual friends.

This adventure pleased the little marquise. It gave her lover a war-like air, though she trembled for him nevertheless. She saw clearly that her beauty and her preference for him would constantly be exposing him to such encounters, and she said to him one day: Marquis, we must put an end to jealousy once and for all; we must silence gossip. We love one another and always will. We must bind ourselves to one another with ties that only death can break.

Ah, beautiful marquise, he said, what are you thinking of? Does our happiness bore you? Marriage, as a rule, puts an end to pleasure. Let us remain as we are. For my part, I am content with your favours and will never ask you for anything more. But I am not content, said the little marquise. I can see clearly that there is something missing in our happiness, and perhaps we will find it when you belong to me entirely, and I to you. It would not be right, replied the marquis, for you to throw in your lot with a younger son who has spent the bulk of his fortune and whom you still know only by appearances, which are often deceptive.

But that’s just what I love about it, she interrupted. I’m so happy that I have enough money for us both, and to have the chance of showing you that I love you and you alone.

They had reached this point when the Marquise de Banneville interrupted them. She had been closeted with her agents, and thought she would refresh herself with some lively young company, but she found them in a deeply serious mood. The marquis had been greatly put out by the little marquise’s proposal. Ostensibly it was very much to his advantage, but he had secret objections to it, which he considered insurmountable. The little marquise, for her part, was a little annoyed at having taken such a bold step in vain, but she soon recovered, deciding that the marquis had refused out of respect for her – or that he wished to prove the depth of his feelings for her. This thought made her decide to speak to her mother about it, and she did so the following day.

No one was ever more astonished than the Marquise de Banneville when her daughter spoke to her of marriage. She was sixteen and no longer a child. Her eyes had not been opened to her situation, and her mother hoped they never would be. She was careful not to agree to the match, but to reveal the truth would have been a painful solution both for her daughter and the marquis. She resolved to do so only as a last resort. Meanwhile she would prevent, or at least postpone, the marriage. The marquis was in agreement with her on this, but the little marquise – passionate creature that she was – begged, entreated, wept, used every means to persuade her mother. She never doubted her lover, since he did not dare oppose her with the same firmness. Finally she pushed her mother to the point where she said these words to her: My dear child, you leave me no choice: against my better judgement I must reveal to you something that I would have given my life to conceal from you. I loved your poor father and when I lost him so tragically, in dread of your meeting the same fate, I prayed with all my heart for a daughter. I was not so fortunate: I gave birth to a son and I have brought him up as a daughter. His sweetness, his inclinations, his beauty, all assisted my plan. I have a son and the whole world believes I have a daughter. Ah, madame! cried the little marquise, is it possible that I …? Yes, my child, said her mother embracing her, you are a boy. I can see how painful this news must be for you. Habit has given you a different nature. You are used to a life very different from the one you might have led. I wanted you to be happy and would never have revealed the sad truth to you if your obstinacy over the marquis had not forced me to. You see now what you were about to do? How, but for me, you would have exposed yourself to public ridicule?

The little marquise did not answer. Instead she merely wept and in vain her mother said to her: But my child, go on living as you were. Be the beautiful little marquise still – loved, adored by all who see her. Love your beautiful marquis if you like, but do not think of marrying him. Alas! cried the little marquise through her tears, he has asked for nothing more. He flies into a rage when I mention marriage. Ah! Could it be that he knows my secret? If I thought that, dear mother, I would go and hide myself in the furthest corner of the earth. Could he know it? In floods of tears now, she added: Alas, poor little marquise, what will you do? Will you dare show your face again and act the beauty? But what have you said? What have you done? What name can one give the favours you have granted the marquis? Blush! Blush, unhappy girl! Ah, nature you are blind: why did you not warn me of my duty? Alas! I acted in good faith, but now I see the truth and I must behave quite differently in future. I must not think about the man I love – I must do what is right.

She was uttering these words with determination when it was announced that the marquis was at the door of the antechamber. He entered with a happy air and was amazed to see both mother and daughter with lowered eyes and in tears. The mother did not wait for him to speak but rose and went to her room. He took courage and said: What’s the matter, beautiful marquise? If something is distressing you, won’t you share it with your friends? What? You won’t even look at me! Am I the cause of this weeping? Am I to blame without knowing it?

The little marquise dissolved in tears. No! No! she cried. No! That could never be, and if it were so I would not feel as I do. Nature is wise and there is a reason for everything she does.

The marquis had no idea what all this meant. He was asking for an explanation when the marquise, who had recovered a little, left her room and came to her daughter’s aid. Look at her, she said to the marquis. As you see, she is quite beside herself. I am to blame. I tried to stop her but she would have her fortune told, and they said she would never marry the man she loved. That has upset her, Monsieur le Marquis, and you know why.

For my part, madame, he replied, I am not at all upset. Let her remain always as she is. I ask only to see her. I shall be more than happy if she will consider me her best friend.

With this the conversation ended. Emotions had been stirred, and would take time to settle. But they settled so completely that after eight days there was no sign of any upheaval. The marquis’s presence, his charm, his caresses, obliterated from the little marquise’s mind everything her mother had told her. She no longer believed any of it, or rather did not wish to believe. Pleasure triumphed over reflection. She lived as she had done before with her lover and felt her passion increase with such violence that thoughts of a lasting union returned to torment her. Yes, she said to herself, he cannot go back on his word now. He will never desert me. She had resolved to speak of it again, when her mother fell ill. Her illness was so grave that after three days all hope of a cure was abandoned. She made her will and sent for her brother, the councillor, whom she appointed the little marquise’s guardian. He was her uncle and her heir, since all the property came from the mother. She confided to him the truth about her daughter’s birth, begging him to take it seriously and to let her lead a life of innocent pleasure that would harm no one and which, since it precluded her marrying, would guarantee his children a rich inheritance.

The good councillor was delighted at this news and saw his sister die without shedding a tear. The income of thirty thousand francs that she left the little marquise seemed certain to pass to his children, and he had only to encourage his niece’s infatuation for the marquis. He did so with great success, telling her that he would be like a father to her and had no wish to be her guardian except in name.

This sympathetic behaviour consoled the little marquise somewhat – and she was certainly distraught – but the sight of her beloved marquis consoled her even more. She saw that she was absolute mistress of her fate, and her sole aim was to share it with the man she loved. Six months of official mourning passed, after which pleasures of all kinds once again filled her life. She went often to balls, the theatre, the opera, and always in the same company. The marquis never left her side and all her other suitors, seeing that it was a settled affair, had withdrawn. They lived happily and would perhaps have thought of nothing else, if malicious tongues could have left them in peace. Everywhere, people were saying that, while the little marquise was beautiful, since her mother’s death she had lost all sense of decorum: she was seen everywhere with the marquis; he was practically living in her house; he dined there every day and never left before midnight. Her best friends found grounds for censure in this: they sent her anonymous letters and warned her uncle, who spoke to her about it. Finally, things went so far that the little marquise went back to her first idea and decided to marry the marquis. She put this to him forcefully; he resisted likewise, only agreeing on condition that the marriage would be a purely public affair, and that they would live together like brother and sister. This, he said, was how they must always love one another. The little marquise readily agreed. She often remembered what her mother had told her. She spoke of it to her uncle, who began by outlining all the pitfalls of marriage and ended by giving his consent. He saw that, by this means, the income of thirty thousand francs was sure to pass to his family. There was no danger of his niece having children by the Marquis de Bercour whereas, if she did not marry him, her notion that she was a girl might change with time and with her beauty, which was sure to fade. So a wedding day was fixed on, bridal clothes made and the ceremony held at the good uncle’s house. (As guardian he undertook to give the wedding feast.)

The little marquise had never looked as beautiful as she did that day. She wore a dress of black velours completely covered in gems, pink ribbons in her hair and diamond pendants in her ears. The Comtesse d’Alettef, who would always love her, went with her to the church, where the marquis was waiting. He wore a black velours cloak decked with gold braid, his hair was in curls, his face powdered, there were diamond pendants in his ears and beauty spots on his face. In short, he was adorned in such a way that his best friends could not excuse such vanity. The couple were united for ever and everyone showered them with blessings. The banquet was magnificent, the king’s music and the violons were there. At last the hour came and relatives and friends put the couple together in a nuptial bed and embraced them, the men laughing, a few good old aunts weeping.

It was then that the little marquise was astonished to find how cold and insensitive her lover was. He stayed at one end of the bed, sighing and weeping. She approached him tentatively. He did not seem to notice her. Finally, no longer able to endure so painful a state of affairs, she said: What have I done to you, marquis? Don’t you love me any more? Answer me or I shall die, and it will be your fault.

Alas, madame, said the marquis, didn’t I tell you? We were living together happily – you loved me – and now you will hate me. I have deceived you. Come here and see.

So saying he took her hand and placed it on the most beautiful bosom in the world. You see, he said, dissolving in tears, you see I am useless to you: I am a woman like you.

Who could describe here the little marquise’s surprise and delight? At this moment she had no doubt that she was a boy and, throwing herself into the arms of her beloved marquis, she gave him the same surprise, the same delight. They soon made their peace, wondered at their fate – a fate that had brought matters on to such a happy conclusion – and exchanged a thousand vows of undying love.

As for me, said the little marquise, I am too used to being a girl, and I want to remain one all my life. How could I bring myself to wear a man’s hat?

And I, said the marquis, have used a sword more than once without disgracing myself. I’ll tell you about my adventures some day. Let’s continue as we are, then. Beautiful marquise, enjoy all the pleasures of your sex, and I shall enjoy all the freedom of mine.

The day after the wedding they received the usual compliments and, eight days later, left for the provinces, where they still live in one of their châteaux. The uncle should visit them there: he would find, to his surprise, that a beautiful child has resulted from their marriage – one to put paid to his hopes of a rich inheritance.

[luvdsc]

i dare you.

truth: do you like me? dare: prove it.

pairing :: lee donghyuck x reader genre :: angst, fluff / best friend + college au word count :: 3,176 words warnings :: none playlist :: cover up (taeyeon) ⋆ wish you were sober (conan gray) ⋆ fever dream (mxmtoon) ⋆ candy so good (the rose) ⋆ bubble gum (clairo) ⋆ can i call you tonight (dayglow) author’s note :: this is a bff2lovers support blog

The game of truth or dare has been going on for several rounds already, and Donghyuck comfortably lounges on the couch tucked in the corner, leaning against an armrest. He lightly shakes the cup in his hand, swirling the last remnants of jungle juice around, before nimbly tossing back the rest of it. It’s a circle of sixteen or so people, and as he looks around, he can somewhat make out the faces of his closest friends. Except he’s missing one: you, his best friend ever since you handed him your red crayon after he broke his in preschool.

But now, for a little over a year, he’s been wishing that being your BF stands for more than just your designated Best Friend. Maybe, it can also include BoyFriend. But that’s just wishful thinking.

Hazy eyes flitting around the entire expanse, Donghyuck looks for the reason of his heartache and finally finds you standing on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall and accepting a red cup from Hyunjin with a pretty smile. Who invited him? He definitely wasn’t a part of Nu Chi Theta.

The familiar green eyed monster rears its ugly head again when he notices how the distance between you and that pretty boy decreases. Grimacing slightly, he reaches forward and grabs a shot from the table, quickly swallowing all its contents.

Renjun lazily spins the bottle in the center after answering his truth from Tzuyu, and it lands on the unsuspecting Donghyuck. He notices the distracted look in his friend’s eyes, following his gaze until he sees you, and a mischievous glint appears in his eyes.

“Hyuck, it’s your turn,” Renjun announces, and Donghyuck is startled, turning to face his grinning friend. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he replies confidently, and Renjun’s grin only widens. His friend’s gaze darts towards you and then back at him knowingly, and Donghyuck starts to feel his hands growing clammy. It seems that he was a little too obvious.

“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”

The dare that comes out of Renjun’s mouth has Donghyuck tensing up in his spot, sobering him up for a split second. His friend merely raises his eyebrows, challenging him, and he swallows hard before putting on an air of nonchalance. He wipes the sweat on his palms against the fabric of his jeans and grabs another one of the shots from the center of the circle, downing it before standing up. He’s not one to be nervous, especially with the amount of confidence he possesses and the amount of alcohol currently swimming through his veins, yet he is.

Jaemin and Jeno lift their heads up in interest as they watch him make his way towards you: you, who is unsuspecting and laughing at something that Hyunjin just said.

Have you always looked this gorgeous?

You are so damn stunning, throwing your head back and letting the prettiest sound Donghyuck ever heard escape from between your lips. The bright strobe lights don’t do enough justice for you, but he can see the way your eyes glimmer and the flashing of your teeth as your lips upturn into the loveliest of smiles. Yet, the blood in his veins boils because he should be the only one who makes you laugh like that, and not some other pretty boy.

He marches his way over there, swaying slightly from the beers he downed earlier, before looping his arm around your waist and pulling you towards him, placing the most delicate, softest kiss onto your lips.

Startled, you nearly drop your red cup and take a step back as you stare your best friend with wide eyes, your heart now beating faster than ever. And perhaps, it was more because of the boy in question, rather than the unexpected show of affection. “What the heck, Hyuck?”

He tugs you close again and merely nuzzles his face in your neck, wrapping himself around you even more. You turn to face him, and he lifts his head up, clouded eyes and flushed skin in full view now. His face is close, too close, and his lips are painted in the prettiest shade of rosy pink. If you move just a few millimeters forward, your lips would brush his again. Hurriedly, you toss away that silly idea as your cheeks warm up at that thought.

When did these feelings start to show up and skirt around your heart? Was it when you noticed he always added a pack of Haribo sour gummy bears for you to the shopping basket during those late night convenience store runs without you asking? Or was it when you texted him at 3 a.m. about a Pokémon you don’t have that’s nearby outside and he tells you to go to bed, but five minutes later, he’s standing outside of your dorm, knocking on your door with mussed hair and a haphazardly thrown on sweater, telling you to hurry up, so he can go back to sleep? Or maybe it’s when you realized just how happy he makes you when he laughs at your lame jokes that he would’ve made fun of Jeno for saying?

Or perhaps, it’s a culmination of all those things plus all the other tiny moments and endearing, although sometimes infuriating, attributes of his that made you fall in love with your best friend.

“You’re really pretty, y’know?” He mumbles, and your cheeks burn even more before you shake your head, noting bitterly to yourself that your best friend is completely intoxicated. Of course. He doesn’t like you in that way at all, so there’s no use in getting your hopes up. Drunken kisses are sober mistakes.

“Hyuck, you’re drunk.” You let out a sigh before wrapping an arm around his waist and throwing an apologetic glance towards Hyunjin. “Let’s get you home.”

“Let me help you,” Hyunjin offers, reaching out to take some of Donghyuck’s weight off of you. Your best friend swats his hand away from you. “Get your own Y/N. This one is taken.”

“He’s just trying to help,” you scold him, blood rushing to your cheeks at the sound of Donghyuck calling you his. He simply ignores the other boy, clinging onto you even tighter. You say good bye to Hyunjin, who kindly takes your empty cup, before tugging your best friend towards the stairs and to his bedroom upstairs.

On your way there, you catch Renjun’s attention. He smirks at you, eyes twinkling, as he glances towards Donghyuck and then back at you. Face burning, you roll your eyes before giving him the universal middle finger salute, his laughter subsequently echoing behind you.

You’re just best friends. Friends take care of each other. And so what if he kissed you? He’s naturally affectionate. And add on the fact that he’s drunk, so his affection just came out tenfold. It meant nothing.

Right?

Something’s been bothering you for the past few days, and Donghyuck can tell as he sits across from you for lunch. You’re doing that thing where you fiddle with the small Winnie the Pooh charm on your iPhone, wrapping the string part around your finger before letting go and repeating your earlier actions. He reaches over and untangles the charm from your hand before putting your phone in front of you, his hand grazing yours for a millisecond, and your heart nearly stops at the sudden contact.

“Something’s been on your mind. Spill it.” He studies your reaction, and you know you can’t lie to your best friend. He’ll know even before the words are out of your mouth.

“Do you remember the Theta party last Friday?”

“Yeah, I kinda have to,” he snorts, resting his chin on his hand. “I had to help clean up the next day with a raging hangover.”

“Why’d you kiss me?” you ask abruptly, twisting the hair tie around your wrist a bit nervously. It’s better to just rip off the bandaid and let it out in the open after all.

Donghyuck freezes, brain short circuiting. He had hoped that you’d just chalk it up to his drunken state that night, and he could continue to ignore his feelings like he’s done for the past thirteen months, six hours, and twenty seven minutes. But he can’t. He shouldn’t. So maybe he should just say it. Tell you the reason why. After all, drunken actions are sober thoughts.

Yet, although he prides himself for being brave, for being outspoken, when it comes to his feelings, when it comes to you, he feels like a coward. At the thought of rejection, the fickle feelings of love, and all the what if’s, he thinks it’s better to remain your best friend than lose you altogether. So he racks his brain for an excuse, but all he can come up with is the half truth. 

“It was a dare.”

Your face falls before you can hide the disappointment, and it yanks at his heartstrings, leaving him to stammer out a poorly executed follow up, back tracking as fast as he can. “It wasn’t a bad dare! Renjun made me do it, and I just...”

“A dare?” you say softly before giving him a half hearted, teasing smile, desperately trying to conceal your true feelings. “Like what? To kiss your best friend? So I beat out Mark, huh?”

Your response has him pausing from blurting out the rest of the truth. You seem so calm and nonchalant about it, like the kiss has no effect on you whatsoever, an unspoken rejection. The mere thought of that almost cracks his heart in two, and he crumples the napkin in front of him, lowering his eyes.

“Uh, well... something like that.”

The two of you lapse into silence after that, a stifled awkwardness plaguing the table, before it becomes unbearable for you, and you stand up, picking up your empty plate to drop off at the cleaning station.

“I gotta go. I have class soon.”

Donghyuck murmurs a quiet good bye to you and helplessly watches as you walk away. He knows you’re lying. He memorized your schedule by heart the second you sent it to him at the beginning of the semester, and you finished all your classes for the day in the morning already.

He flattens out the balled up napkin, staring at the confession he had carefully penned down earlier before you sat down. The black scribbles stare back at him, almost as if they’re mocking him. He rips up the paper into shreds.

He wishes he was braver earlier.

Friday night brings you back into the all too familiar atmosphere of the Nu Chi Theta house. You entered the scene later than usual, caught up earlier with a paper on sustainable technology due at midnight. You were more than content with staying in your dorm for the night, curling up in a blanket for a Brooklyn 99 marathon, but your roommate, Lia, insisted you go out with her.

When you had told her about the conflicting matter regarding a certain dark haired boy swirling around in your mind, she had frowned, calling Donghyuck a complete idiot, and her next words still echo in your head.

“That’s what the idiot said? That wasn’t the dare. Renjun dared him to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”

So why did he lie?

The butterflies in your stomach refuse to settle, whether it was from knowing you’ll see him tonight or the implications behind that kiss or possibly a combination of both. Renjun easily spots you in the crowd, and refusing to take no for an answer, he pulls you over to sit next to him and to partake in the game that started this all. Lia had simply laughed and waved you good bye before nimbly making her way into the dancing crowd.

Your eyes easily finds Donghyuck’s across from you, and his eyes widen in surprise. You haven’t seen him since the lunch incident, and you should’ve known that you’d see him tonight. He’s a member of this fraternity after all. You give him a small smile, and maybe it’s the alcohol running through his veins, but you could have sworn his cheeks turned a darker shade of red under the harsh neon lights. He looks away, and it stings a lot more than it should. Biting your bottom lip, you focus your gaze on the bottle in the center.

Jaemin reaches for the glass and gives it a twirl. The bottle neck ends up pointing just left of Donghyuck towards Yerim, and you notice Jeno not so subtly kick the table. The bottle rolls slightly before facing your best friend.

“Oh, would you look at that! Hyuck, truth or dare?” Jaemin exclaims, grinning a little too brightly.

“Jeno did that on purpose,” Donghyuck grumbles, throwing a stink eye at the aforementioned boy who merely offers him an innocent smile. “Dare.”

Renjun leans over towards Jaemin, whispering something to him, and he only brightens up even more. There’s that sinking feeling in your stomach, and you know they’re up to no good. Looking around the room, you catch the eyes of Hyunjin, who waves at you happily with a broad smile. Maybe you’ll feel better if you hang out with someone else for a change and take your mind and heart off of the boy in front of you.

Donghyuck’s eyes darken when he notices your attention directed at Hyunjin. He almost scoffs. Again, who invited him? And what’s Hyunjin got that he doesn’t? Okay, so maybe that pretty boy is a few centimeters taller than him, but Donghyuck is still prettier, wittier, funnier, and smarter, right?

Does Hyunjin know the exact number of miniature marshmallows that you like in your hot chocolate? Does he know that you have a tiny star shaped scar on your knee because you fell off your bike in first grade, and Donghyuck was the one who put a dinosaur patterned bandage on it? Does he know that when you’re happy, you like to play Avril Lavigne’s Sk8er Boi on blast and belt out the lyrics? Does he know when you think a joke is really funny, you let out the smallest snort at the end of your laugh which you try to cover up, but Donghyuck thinks it’s the cutest noise ever?

Does Hyunjin know how much he loves you?

“Hyuck,” Jaemin pokes him. “Are you listening?”

“No,” he deadpans, and Jaemin sighs. Your attention is on Donghyuck now, head tilted slightly as you softly smile at him, raising your eyebrow. Your expression is guarded, and for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know why. But Jaemin nudges him again, and he lets out a huff before turning toward his friend, who smiles impishly before saying:

“I dare you to call your crush and confess.”

You and Donghyuck both inhale sharply at that.

Thousands of thoughts rush into your mind, yet the most prominent one is: your best friend has a crush, and he never told you. The two of you have shared your previous crushes in the past, yet he’s never mentioned this one? A shock of betrayal runs through your body as you wrack your brain to think back to any previous hints or mentioning that he liked someone. Never mind the fact that you didn’t tell him about your current crush because that would mean confessing, but if you were in love with someone else, he would definitely be the first to know.

But maybe it’s for the better, you think bitterly to yourself. It would be near impossible for you to hide your feelings any longer. Perhaps, this is the reason why he didn’t tell you about the dare. It would make everything so much more complicated.

But your stomach twists and turns at the thought of him asking someone out, kissing someone else, loving someone who isn’t you, and suddenly, you don’t want to play anymore. You mumble something about getting a drink from the kitchen to Renjun before standing up, easily brushing away his hand when he protests.

Donghyuck watches as you begin to get up, panic rising in his chest, and before he knows it, he’s scrambling to pull out his phone. All it takes is five seconds. Five seconds for you to walk away. Five seconds to lose you. Five seconds to type in that familiar string of numbers and hit send. Five seconds of courage. Five seconds to take that leap from friendship to something more.

It’s now or never, and he’s never been so sure of one thing in his life until this very moment. Heart thudding erratically in his chest, he hurriedly types in the number he’s memorized by heart—the one he secretly saved as My Sunflower 🌻—and finally presses the green button.

You pause when you hear the familiar blaring ringtone and feel the vibration in your back pocket. Immediately, your eyes land on Donghyuck, and he’s already looking at you with the softest, most endearing, most vulnerable expression on his features that wrenches your heart. Eyes glimmering, he smiles at you a little bit uncertainly before speaking up, voice wavering at the end.

“Someone’s calling you, and I think he has something really important to say, so will you please pick it up?”

With shaky hands, you take out your phone, heart nearly leaping out of your chest, as you stare at the screen, lips curving into a delighted smile that you cannot suppress.

Full Sun ☀️💘 is calling.

“Hello?”

Phone pressed to your ear, you slightly tilt your head to the side, shyly smiling, and relief is written all over his face for a split second before Donghyuck positively beams. He continues to gaze at you, pretty little stars dancing in his eyes that crinkle in the corners and the rosiest hue of red blooming on his cheeks.

“Hi. I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me. Because I kinda, sorta, maybe am completely in love with you.”

This is the boy who made fun of you for wearing glittery Mary Janes on the first day of kindergarten, but also threw sand at the other boys who decided to poke fun at you. This is the boy who saved all the blue raspberry Jolly Ranchers he got on Halloween to give to you. This is the boy who brought you tubs of New York Super Fudge Chunk when you experienced your first heartbreak and refrained from saying “I told you so” until after you finally got over that douchebag. This is the boy who made you stay up all night before a final to help him put rainbow streaks in his hair, but also helped you ace the exam. This is the boy who has the biggest heart out of everyone you know, and he’s wearing it on his sleeve for you.

This is the boy whom you love.

And he loves you back.

“I’d love that. Because I kinda, sorta, maybe am completely in love with you, too.”

[whumpiary]

content warning: strong dubcon vibes, implied future noncon, abuse of power, alcohol use

-

It wasn’t often Christopher chose Cassius to accompany him to a party like this one. Champagne on trays and chandeliers from the ceiling. Men in nice suits, women in gowns.

Usually, when Christopher wanted Cass at an occasion, it was a private one. Weekends to the cabin. Trips out on the yacht. That sort of thing. Particular affairs.

Public events were usually the role of one of the other charges. Harley or Nicky or Jackson or Len. One of the bright young thing types that exemplified the kindness and generosity of a wealthy benefactor like Christopher Bergen. Which was… decidedly not the sort of bright young thing that Cassius was. Or that Christopher wanted him to be, most days of the week.

But it’s a particular kind of people, at a party like this. A particular mix of friends and colleagues. Ones who found Cass’ occasional salacious comments charming instead of vaguely scandalous. That didn’t mind so much when Christopher’s hand slid from his charge’s shoulder to his waist halfway through the night. When a fond look turned into a fond kiss.

The first couple of hours had been vaguely torturous, Cass listening again and again too the discordant pulse of for the love of God leave me alone paired with, “Paul. Lovely to see you, how’s that daughter of yours?”

Cass knows his role. Be pretty. Be beguiling. Be distraction or attraction, depending on the opponent. Be a reason to extend conversation as readily as a reason to cut conversation short.

Some things you paid for with money. Other things you paid for with attendance. And Cassius was here to make the slog of it less painful.

In the corner now, though, no one bothers them. In the corner now, they’re playing a game. One of Christopher’s favourites. One that Cass is getting better at.

“So what does he want?” Christopher says, nodding his head to a man by the fireplace in a grey check suit. He’s listening intently to another man talk, red wine in his hand.

Cass hums, reaching out. Tasting. Assessing. It’s always kinda interesting, feeling out other people’s desires. Particularly new people. He shrugs. “He wants to leave. But he wants that other guy to like him more.”

Christopher’s hand traces idle circles into the back of Cassius’ shoulder. Drifts lower and across his spine as Cass leans forward, “I would too, that’s Carl Egerton. Do you know him?”

“No.”

“Remind me to introduce you. He’s good for reputations. Has a ridiculous amount of sway in the media.”

Cassius thinks about asking why he of all people would need to know someone good for reputations. But he tucks the thought away before it can escape and make things... complicated. Christopher’s been saying more and more things like that recently. And Cassius mostly just does his best to ignore them.

Christopher inclines his head again, “And what about him, across the way, what does he want?”

A younger man in a deep blue shirt talking to a woman in a tight red dress. Hard to tell from here if the dress was sequinned or just simmering. It’s pretty, either way. She’s pretty. The man talking to her has noticed too.

Cass wrinkles his nose up, “Wants her. In a thirsty kinda way too. It’s gross.”

“And does she want him?”

“Not really,” Cass shrugs. “She might go for him but mostly she just wants food. She’s hungry.”

“In that dress no wonder,” Christopher comments, eyes dropping.

Cassius watches the woman’s bangles shift on her arm as she raises a hand to tuck dark hair behind her ear. He can’t hear them clink together from here but he can almost feel the cool weight of them, like shackles, on his own wrist.

“What does that feel like to you?” Christopher muses, after a moment, head tilting as he looks at the woman. “I’ve always wondered. When someone else wants food, or gets hungry. Does that make you hungry too?”

Cassius hums and semi-shrugs. “Not really. Doesn’t work like that,” he says. It doesn’t not work like that either. But it’s different. “It’s more like… a tug.”

“A tug?” Christopher says playfully, dragging his boy fractionally closer with a tug to his waistband. Cassius shoots him a look and snorts a laugh, swatting his hand away.

“No, not like that. It’s more like…” Cass trails off with a sigh. He reaches his hand out to play with Christopher’s lax fingers, with the gold and black signet ring he wears on his index finger. “Like the difference between hearing a song and having one caught in your head.”

Christopher hums and turns his hand up as Cassius’ fingertips trace the line of his palm. “What an interesting analogy.”

They keep going like that, through different people around the room, chatting in between. At some point, Christopher’s hand finds its way to his lower back, sneaking under the hem of his shirt there, delighting in the thrill and heat of hidden skin against skin.

“Him?”

“Attention. He’s hoping they find him funny:”

“Those two?”

“For him to stop speaking.”

Christopher keeps getting distracted from his own game part way through, stopping instead to tuck a lock of hair behind Cassius’ ear or smooth out the collar of his shirt with hands that linger. 

“What about them?”

“Mm… too far away. It’s muddy.”

“Interesting.”

Cass lolls his head back to rest against the back of the couch, head resting on Christopher’s outstretched arm.

He’s had just enough champagne that his head feels light and lovely, limbs loose, cheeks warm. Booze softens the edges. But it makes everything more dangerous too. Makes the pulse and twist of wants around him louder and more tangible. And at the same time, muddier. Harder to predict.

He soothes himself with the weight of Christopher’s hand trailing up his thigh. With the feeling of Christopher’s beard brushing his cheek as the man whispers in his ear. With what’s being whispered. With the low, thrumming wants that are slowly curling into needs.

He skims the room as Christopher amuses himself. Across a waiter handing out a tray of miniature desserts, across the woman in the red dress from earlier, across a man with a face nearly the same shade who keeps glancing at them. Cass huffs a laugh, tilting his head to the side to get a better look and earns a kiss to the length of his neck. He hadn’t intended it as an invite but Christopher hums happily and it works.

“That man wants to talk to you,” Cassius murmurs, nodding in the direction of the red-faced man, who was trying determinedly now not to look directly at them, hand fidgeting in his pocket.

Christopher pulls back, following Cassius’ gaze, only to all but rolls his eyes when they land.

“What a shame for him that I am so thoroughly occupied,” he murmurs, turning back. Cass laughs the same way liquor fills a glass.

“Who is he?”

“Timothy Lyndon,” Christopher says, leaning back in close, pressing a kiss to the corner of his boy’s jaw. He’s never this affectionate in public. Never this overt. Cassius shifts his shoulder back, pressing against the crushed velvet of the couch.

“And what does he do?”

“Wave his money around and get on my nerves, mostly.” Another kiss, closer to the jugular.

“Investor?”

“Theoretically,” Christopher murmurs with a hum, and Cassius laughs again as the breath of the word traces along the side of his neck, down the collar of his shirt, wraps around his neck like the ghost of a hand.

Cass hadn’t been picked for his ability to charm a politician or small talk with an investor. He’d been picked because he made for the prettiest decoration. The status symbol with the most charming features and the wittiest side comments. The loveliest lovely thing.

He let’s it stretch out for another few minutes, closing his eyes to enjoy the buzz of the room and his head and the hands.

“Can we go home yet?” Cass sighs, hand coming up to run Christopher’s jacket lapel between his thumb and forefinger. He pouts, making the sort of petition that usually appeals, “I want to go to bed. Get these clothes off.”

Christopher hums in thought, eyes caught on something over Cassius’ shoulder. Christopher has the fucking prettiest eyes. Clear blue, flecked through with a little gold, a single dark freckle by the pupil on the left. Story book eyes. There’s something dark and darkly curious in them now.

“Hmm. Shortly,” Christopher says, absently in delayed response. “I’ve got one last mark for you, if you’re up for it.”

Cassius tilts his head to the side, cheek brushing against Christopher’s sleeve. He hums. “Go on then.”

Christopher points to whatever he’s looking towards with a smile, “That man there. What does he want?”

Cass sighs and picks his head up, looking over his shoulder to focus on a man seated by himself over by the bay window. Dark hair and light eyes. Perfect picture of well dressed. Looking directly at them.

Cassius reaches out. Tasting. Assessi-

He flinches back. Recoils. Shrinks. Christopher’s eyes flick to him with an expectant smile, those story book eyes warm and fond. Cass clears his throat, half smile on his face as he meets but can’t hold Christopher’s gaze. “He wants, uh... He wants a lot of things.”

Christopher laughs, soft and bright. “So coy, darling boy. That’s not like you.”

Cass shrugs, eyes on Christopher’s lapel, instead of his face, playing at apathy, “I’m bored with this game, it makes me dizzy.”

Christopher smiles at him, full of fondness and craving and something else that Cass refuses to give a name to. He tilts his head, expression warm the way an open flame is, “We’re not leaving until you tell me what he wants, my love. I’d endure one last round if I were you.”

Cassius holds his keepers gaze for a moment longer before he yields. He turns his head to look back at the dark haired man, now raising a hand to a server to get another drink before he looks back to them. Cassius doesn’t need to reach out to feel the want. His mind is tethered to it. Nearly hungry for it. Or not quite hungry maybe.

Just a tug.

“He wants my company for the night,” Cass mutters, barely enough volume to be heard over the chatter of the room.

Christopher smiles with a little noise of agreement, hand coming up to smooth Cassius’ collar. “And what else?”

Like he doesn’t know. Like he isn’t wanting the exact same fucking thing.

There’s no room in this conversation for any kind of plea. Any kind of bargaining or hesitation or fear. Cass folds it all up. Puts it away. Before the feelings make things complicated.

“He wants to hurt me,” he says evenly. He takes a breath, feels the tug grow stronger, says it again. “He really wants to hurt me.”

Christopher hums as though surprised. Cass would bet his contract twice over that he isn't.

“Does he now?” Christopher says, eyes never leaving the man in question. His smile could be honey, could be poison, could be prayer. “Well, then, darling boy. You better go and say hello.”

[transbebe]

hmmmf

[skamamoroma]

REWATCH: Skam Italia s4 - Episode 1

- I knew from that stuttery montage of Sana driving that Ludo was back and I swear to god I smiled so much. She looked fierce and bold as hell in those shades. I can’t believe how much I adore her.

- THE ORANGE GLOW OF WARMTH. I am obsessed with the way Ludo turns all the lights off but in a way that makes it seem less like a TV show and more like we’re invited into the moment! These scenes are so cosy and lovely and after 4 seasons they feel like such a GROUP, a little family of friends

- Gio and Marti. Look. Anything they do is a perfect mix of adorable, ridiculous and heart felt and that whole “MARTI HAS A SEX DRAWER” exchange is just peak best friend behaviour. I love Gio being a huge tease. Marti’s like “as if I do” while his face betrays him 😂

- Seeing Marti in white was an honest to god VISCERAL moment for me. I’m so used to him in blue and muted colours that his white shirt and messy hair made me want to squish him. He looked so lovely

- Luca left gross stuff on Gio’s toothbrush. HAHAHAHA. Of course he did. Gio walking in like a TOTAL DAD like “kids, what did you do now?” Hahaha

- Silvia making up little songs on the guitar was just SO sweet. She seemed to much more full of life and glittery this season

- Sana getting dressed up a little and grabbing her prettiest scarf was just SO CUTE. Also - girl matches her lipstick to her head scarf like a total HBIC

- The intro of Tricky Trap! A Ludo Besse metaphor special. Ah the way Malik looks at her, so smitten, so enamoured with her spirit and intelligence. He is introduced in the softest loveliest way and god does that just remain. How lovely he is.

- I am all starry eyed for Silvia’s beautiful pink coat! 🌸

- LIZZO. Whoever decided to use Boys needs a raise, Jesus Christ. So brilliant.

- I am mesmerised by Sana’s eyes. They are so big and bright and expressive and full of so much intensity. Beatrice really genuinely shocked me with how great she is.

- THAT SONG WHEN THE GUYS ARRIVE IN THE VAN is just so gorgeous. Non Sei Tu - Gazzelle! I’m guessing it’s kinda popular in Italy but I LOVE the atmosphere it gives the whole scene. That partially lit riverside, the boys all with roses and so LA ROSA SQUAD is born! 🌹

- And then that moment when Malik looks at Sana and you can practically hear her heart as the music grows louder. He notices her. He thinks of her. He sees her. It’s so achingly sweet.

- You can FEEL the pressure Sana lives under when her mamma calls. The way she goes “ok!” and sighs and makes her way inside. She has so much to think of and worry about and balance and reconcile and she has pressure from so many directions. It’s exhausting to watch.

- But then that comparison with the ritual of her hand washing and preparing to pray... and the silence of it. I LOVE the music yet again. Ludo clearly has a thing for Creosote!

- I love seeing her ritual. It’s fascinating to me and you can see Ludo et al did their research and that the Muslim community helped shape and inform. I love to watch her pray. It looks so peaceful and simple in the way it reduces her to herself and her thoughts. The fact it’s interrupted by something so messy like a couple hooking up in a store room is... oh god it’s awful 😂 you feel so much for her. She can’t win, she can’t catch a break and even from the few things she holds onto like her friends and this new promise of something with Malik. She gets so close and things get snatched away or she’s told they aren’t for her. I feel angry FOR her.

[bapydemonprincess]

“You make my heart happy.” with Mey-rin and preferably Sebastian if you can do that again? That last story with them was so cute!! ^w^

Thank you!! Uh, I hope you don’t mind me doing something short, I’m not up to top form right now, but I did want to try writing, so I hope you don’t mind this! It also is another OT3 between Sebastian Mey and Grelle, hope that’s ok too. :3

They’d all gone out to a big winter ball, everyone of them dressed to the nines in the loveliest formal wear, and even when getting to the ball, Mey-rin and Sebastian had gotten to meet up with their lovely red reaper, who twirled around gloriously in a glistening red gown, trimmed with white fluff at the bottom, and her long hair magically up in a huge nest of a bun.

“What do you think, my little snow bunnies?” She’d asked the two, and of course Sebastian Michaelis, in a stunning dark pitch tuxedo and the darkest red vest she’d ever seen, gave the reaper a galliant bow and looked over her entire form with the sweep of his red eyes, instantly transfixed and glimmering. 

“Getting to see you here and in such a bright, glorious gown to fit this night is just the perfect surprise, rufina. How you even manage to get away to be with us is truly a Christmas Miracle.”

Of course this made their reaper turn red in the face, slapping her equally bright red gloved hands over her face and squealing a little.

“Oh stop, you will make me burst, Bassy! And we haven’t even started! Now, let me get a good full look at my Mey Mey..” Grelle purred as her eyes had locked onto the other woman, and she too a step closer to grasp Mey-rin’s hands.

Of course, in such a public event, the lady reaper knew she could only do so much before rising ire with the damnedable humans who didn’t truly understand love, but she did what she could to show her little human lover she was absolutely smitten with her as well and happy to be in her presence.

“Where did you get this gown, my dear? It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen on you!” She cried, squeezing Mey-rin’s smaller hands.

“Oh- well- I- N-Nina insisted she do the honors of fitting me one, yes.” Mey-rin mumbled out, a little overwhelmed of the attention she was suddenly getting, not only from Grelle but also having Sebastian’s firm big hand behind her and always pressed to her waist, like maybe the man was a little afraid to let her go.

Before Grelle could respond to this news, though, Sebastian spoke up. “Don’t worry, I was keeping an eye on them when I could. I believe Nina knew by now my intentions and knew her days of putting her hands where they did not belong were over.” He looked quite proud of this as well, for the butler who was also a demon was very selfish when it came to what he knew to be his. He stood proud next to Mey-rin, chest puffed a little bit, as if he’d won a grand prize and was the proudest man there to do so.

Grelle nodded firmly in approval too, coming in even closer to Mey-rin and quickly giving the girl’s rosie complexion a firm kiss on the cheek.

“Good!” She said simply, and then her seriousness was gone as she grinned again and pulled a little at the other girl. “Come on now, let’s go to properly blend in with all the others at th drinks table! Bassy likely has to get back to the brat for a while anyways!”

Indeed work still called for the butler, who deflated a little, but still nodded and smiled to his ladies. Especially giving Mey-rin a reassuring look to know that if anything should happen, he’d be there in a flash.

It had all gone pretty smoothly from there, as she and Grelle indeed got to bustle about, talking about this and that like some kind of horrid Christmas party going on in the reaper realm’s office and Grelle being very much glad she had somewhere else to be.

And Mey-rin just filled her in on the familiar shenanigans at the manor. Nothing much new, just their young master’s only family as always coming along and trying to cheer the poor gloomy boy up with presents. Especially his fiancee, whom he currently had to spend time with now.

And the evening went on, Mey-rin being lulled by the music slowing, watching out as all the couples danced, and occasionally glimpsing Sebastian across the way.. Seeing a similar longing in those red eyes of his, but.. different as well.

Grelle, too, stayed right by her the whole time, swaying back and forth, back an forth, as if to make up for not having a partner right now. And at one point, she threw caution to the wind a little and grabbed Mey-rin’s hand, simply to hold it while she kept bobbing back and forth.

Her look at Mey-rin said it all. She was happy just being here with her, even if nothing more happened tonight. And Mey-rin grew flush again, but tried her best to show she agreed by squeezing back.

At one point, though, something had changed, and Grelle suddenly let go of her hand. “Ah!” She gasped, staring out at something, but Mey-rin not being quite sure what..

“Grelle? What is it??” She asked, and reached out almost instinctively.

Grelle immediately turned back to her and grabbed her hand with both of her own this time, squeezing and staring into her face with such an EXCITED look that Mey-rin felt her anxiety start to kick up!!

“Come with me to a side balcony, love. There’s someone I know who has been dying to meet you!” Was all Grelle told her in explanation, and then YANKED Mey-rin forward, dragging her straight through all the dancing couples, and to two big glass balcony doors. 

Once she’d pushed the girl out into the dimly lit balcony, only the glow from inside making it easy to traverse, Grelle finally gave her little flustered maid a firm kiss, nearly dipping her into a bow right there!

“Whuh- what was that for??” Mey-rin gasped out, blinking and tryng to get her glasses to unfog.

“For good luck, Mey Mey! For good luck!!” The woman gushed, and smooched her again, but this time on the forehead.

And then she drew back, backpedaling and holding her hands up in caution before her. “Stay right here, sweetie! It’ll only be a moment!!”

And then Mey-rin was alone.

She could only stare, wobbling in place after. Her mind an absolute mess! Why was Grelle suddenly so excited for introducing Mey-rin to meet someone? Was this a family member of hers that still lived in this realm and Grelle had stayed in touch with somehow?? Were the two on such good terms that she’d entrusted this person with knowledge about her love life over here?! About Mey-rin?? Oh wow, this had Mey-rin panicking a little! Was she about to be JUDGED by someone who’d known Grelle Sutcliff before she’d become a reaper?! Before ANYONE had known her before now??

Oh no, someone was coming to the doors. TWO someones. One was Grelle again, thankfully, the other a smaller woman. She looked almost up to Mey-rin’s height, though, and equally just as intimidated as they’d stepped forward.

But she looked so.. lovely. Her skin soft and almost glowing in the dark, hair pitched black and curled up in a loose bun, and her long deep maroon gown sparkling, shimmering with tiny flecks of sorts.

“Here we are, loves.” Grelle murmured, sounding already so satisfied even if nothing had happened yet. “I wish we could be inside for this so you two could share a lovely dance, but perhaps the silent night is better for this.”

“Yes, erm, he-hello,” Mey-rin spoke up and held out her hand to cordially greet the other young lady, “My name is um, Mey-rin, yes it is! And it’s a pleasure to meet you you, Miss..?”

The woman had smiled further and further as Mey-rin spoke, and Mey-rin wasn’t sure if her lips were purely black or an even deeper red than her gown. Was she making a fool of herself again? Oh dear..

“Michaelis,” the lady purred out, and lifted a dainty pale hand to put it into Mey-rin’s, curling around it tight and squeezing. Her eyes stayed glued on Mey-rin’s, gradually getting redder and redder as well. “Sebastian Michaelis.”

And Mey-rin was about to faint.

“Se… Se… Se-Se-SEBASTIAN?!” She shrieked a little loudly, followed by Grelle on the side slapping her hands over her own mouth and practically bending over, her muffled laughter squeaking out between her fingers here and there.

Sebastian simply stepped in even closer, tutting softly at the girl for making such a racket, and tilted herself in to give Mey-rin a soft, brief kiss on the right cheek while the girl was still frozen in shock. She couldn’t help it! Mey-rin’s reaction was just too adorable to resist.

“Well, what do you think, dear? Am I… anything like what you imagined?” Sebastian hesitantly asked, for despite her bold move just then, she still couldn’t help feeling a bit timid at finally showing her human lover this side of her.

“You… yo-you are…” Mey-rin mumbled out, starting to tremble in place, her lips quivering and her chest rising and falling.. Grelle noticed this and took a step in closer, too. All silliness gone.. Had they miscalculated?!

But suddenly Mey-rin was closing the gap, lifting her arms and wrapping them around the other, curling in all the way, moving one hand to the back of Sebastian’s head and pulling that in too. She started to whimper as she did this, and nuzzled her head up against Sebastian’s.

“Oh Sebastian, you’re so PERFECT!” She sobbed out, shutting her eyes tight. “This makes me so, so happy, yes it does!! Getting to see you like this! Getting to hold you!! Just.. just… having you in my life..” She felt tears streaking down her face and likely beginning to drip onto her love’s shoulder and back, but she couldn’t hold back now. “Y-You make my heart so happy, yes you do! You, a-and Grelle, and just bein’ here!!”

Grelle had not expected this turn of events, and didn’t expect to find herself tearing up now as well. “Oh goodness, Mey, what brought this about?!” She choked out, and yet didn’t wait for an answer. She just had to swoop in and join the two smaller ladies, wrapping her longer arms around both and squeezing too.

And Sebastian Michaelis, who was now a little bit crushed between both of her ladies, simply began purring against her will as she shut her eyes and beamed to herself.

This night in all it’s entirety had truly become a wonderful gift.

[amwritingmeta]

JiB10

So, last year, for various reasons, I didn’t actually put down my experience of JiB, but are y’all ready to hear all about this year’s experiences and adventures? 

Well, in condensed form. I mean, what is this - LiveJournal? (okay yeah kinda is but no not going into excruciating detail here just the best bits) (the choice cuts, as it were) (watch me go full butcher) (it’ll be entertaining I swear) :P

So, firstly, I’m a panel rat. I fucking love those panels. All the panels. It’s mainly why I get the Angel Pass, because the seats are so good and I’m all about them good seats, yeah? 

I have friends who spend a whole lot of time in line for ops or for autos and I just… can’t… do that. Not when there’s talking happening and answering of questions and just that room being MAGIC, because the entire con feels so inclusive and filled with open-minded like-minded human beings who share in our love of this glorious show.

I started a JiB Log, but figured I’d get too distracted to actually update it regularly, because that’s what last year was like. When you’re not in a panel you’re either walking to grab something quick to eat (have to commend the little smoothie place at the airport, because they did good sandwiches and really good coffee at a reasonable price) or you’re heading to the hotel bar to get absolutely plast-… No, actually didn’t do that this year, so correction: or you’re heading to the hotel bar to see who’s there and catch up with people who have been to their ops and are still shaking with excitement. 

(you can also comment on the wonderful imagination of strangers in the ladies’ room when you see them shaking with excitement and are dressed up in bridal gowns) (okay there was one lovely dressed up as a bride so maybe plural is the wrong way to go but the sentiment holds true) (JiBers - you are so fucking awesome and I LOVE YOU ALL)

Okay, so wanna know the most basic things I’ve learned about how to JiB? I mean… if you don’t, then stop reading, I guess, because imma tell ya. #fairwarning

Bring Snacks (you won’t regret it) 

Bring Alcohol (you won’t regret it)

Good Footwear (you won’t regret it)

Clothes For Every Occasion (you may regret it if you overpack) (don’t overpack) (Google “packing tutorial by Jensen Ackles”) (worth it)

Choose Wisely (just general solid advice) (I mean, get your priorities straight) (panel rat or up close and personal kitty cat) (or both) (sidenote: I take it choosing to be both is quite stressful) (make sure that your stress sensors are up and that you don’t overdo it) (switching between rat and cat is bound to be internally messy) (okay that actually came out as not haha solid but actual solid advice so yeah) (be prepared that doing both is difficult!) (and having lots of ops and wanting to do all autos means probably missing a whole lot of panels for standing in line and waiting) (even the solo panels with the main players or - and I will question your sanity - the joint panels that close the weekend) (well not the very final panel) (nobody missed the J2M panel because all ops and autos had closed by then) (but yes prioritise wisely)

Be Open (because, no matter what, you are bound to meet someone you click with at this event) (most people) (actually every stranger I gave a throwaway comment to) (were so chill and happy to have a brief chat or share a moment with me) (so even if you’re traveling by yourself you are bound to feel embraced) *jazz hands rome magic*

Pinches of Salt (take everything you see and hear with healthy pinches of salt) (I briefly forgot about this on Monday morning and oh boy I could’ve saved myself a world of stupidity if I’d only remembered it yeah?)

MNC (get your sweet ass to the Monday Night Concert because both my years of JiBing it has been mind-blowing) (this year was better than last year honestly) (which I did not think could happen) (they are the bee’s bees and the bear’s bear) *throws all the love at them*

When it comes to impressions and memories made this particular trip, I feel like the whole week has been one long run of blessings. Sincerely, it’s been - oh what’s the word again? --> MAGIC. 

I’m not going to go through all the boring personal moments of Holy Fuck *jazz hands rome magic* but I will just say that I think I stepped out of passport control with the widest smile, and it barely left my face for the entire weekend. The panels were wonderful this year. I’m still on a high. No, seriously. It’s almost a week later and I haven’t been hit by the JiB blues yet, and perhaps I won’t this year.

*prays I land a pass for next year* *GAH* *the nail-biting begins*

Confession time? (…when in Rome)

Confession 1 — I have such a crush on Rob. I mean, I’ve had it for years, but time to make it official, I guess. He just seems like the sweetest, loveliest human being and watching him sing is like… watching the stars light in the sky. He is such an amazing singer and performer. He made me cry. He sang Fare Thee Well and he made me cry at the Monday Night Concert. 

*no I was NOT drunk* *though damn that G&T was strong* *oh btw the drinks in Rome are amazing and worth the money because extra alcoholic* *like damnnnnn* *just as an aside* *but also bring your own bourboun* *winks at @waywardliliana* *sup gurl?* *winks again* *winks some more* *can’t stop now* *licks lips* *yeah I know* *uncomfortable?* *licks lipssss againnnnn* *okay stopping now* *….or am I…….?*

:P

Confession 2 — The panel-watching truly is a huge amount of fun. This year there were a lot of things said that made me want to jump up and down in my seat, because it gives me a lot of hope for season fifteen and Jensen provided most of it on the Saturday, and then Jared was pretty much agreeing with Jensen’s assessments of how the brothers’ journeys should end on the Sunday, and I was like GAH! *happy* And then Misha throws in his belief that there needs to be a sacrifice and tragedy and we all went NO! Also his fear that this family of ours will disperse and we all went NOOO! :) Anyway, these are all stated observations, but the confession is this:

As much as I love spending time in a space that is occupied by some of my favourite human beings on this planet (oh but they are), what makes JiB so truly, deeply, personally special is meeting up with friends who otherwise live too far away to see on the regular. All of us convening in this one place to share in this one great love is like electricity through your veins. It’s like… well, it’s like going to a place of worship, and I think you know what I mean. When you’re in a room with a group of peope who’s energy jives with yours, then your energies align, and resonate, and then — MAGIC.

It’s magical. It’s fucking magical. *jazz hands*

Shoutout to everyone I managed to see this year who have not yet been lip-licked at in this post (or real life), whether it was much too brief (so many of you were much too brief) or whether we spent quality time, seeing you all really made the trip sparkle: 

@captainhaterade - who made such a fantastic and impromptu seat mate - thank you, Emily, for having me next to you for most of the weekend! :D 

@eriquin - Meghan, it was so lovely to meet you and I’m thrilled you and Emily both enjoyed your first con, very happy I got to be a part of it! :)

@trickster-angel - my dear Chiara, it took us a few tries, but we finally got to sit down in the Corner (if you get to go next year then I think this may be where we’re all just convene from now on) (*suggestion*) *nobody puts us in a corner except us!* :P So good to meet you!

@inacatastrophicmind - Mara! We met much, much too briefly, but I’m so, so glad we did! See you around tumblr, my friend, and hopefully at JiB11! :)

@misskittyspuffy - aw man, Aurelie, we kept missing each other and I really wanted to sit down and have a proper lunch or dinner, but at least you and--

@assbuttboyfriends - hey, Claire, my dear, at least you and Aurelie aren’t that far away, right? Come visit me in London, I tell ya! :D Otherwise, proper plan-making for next year. xx

@bold-sartorial-statement - a brief hello was still a good hello! Hope you enjoyed the con! xx

@jenmdixon - it was good to say hello to you, my dear, and really hope you enjoyed the con (and didn’t die under those lights because it got HOT) (no wonder the actors are fan-addicts) :) xx

@purgatory-jar - Elena, it was, as ever, fantastic to see you and I’m stoked I got to have a proper lunch with you this time around. You have always been and will always be one of my absolute favourite artists in this fandom and, by extension, anywhere. Already a star, girl!

Shoutout to @northern-sparrow - I was sorry that I missed you at the bar, but there’s always next year. Hope you enjoyed the con and thanks for asking The Perfect Question. :D xx

Finally, @godshipsit​ -- Alessia, my friend, you are this calm, welcoming, very dear part of Rome and JiB for me (last year you supported me so much just by being there) and you are simply brilliant! *all the prettiest flowers at your door*

And to my two felines who are tumblring, but not very often: Laura and Steph, you wonderfuls! Thanks for all the laughs!!

*I now proceed to throw love at you all*

Confession 3 — I have a Favourite Moose. Nope, it’s not who you think it is. (girl, I almost put the hashtag on here but in the current climate) (I think I’d just better not) (especially since I wanna tag you) (hey, Moose!) (hey @natmoose!) (yes you!) (Nat-Blue!) :) #theconversationalists 

Now, the highlights from this years con are too numerous for me to write them all down, really, but here’s a taster:

Ricky Whittle (the man is a genius comedian)

Rob talking about how his fandom experience has changed since he, for the first time, is seeing comments like “I hate your face” (the way he says “I hate your face”) (*giggle*) (also it’s such a question of tone because most of those “I hate your face”s are probably said with loads of love) (because Chuck going ultimate big bad toxic masculinity representative is fucking BRILLIANT) *love to hate his face* 

Matt telling the airplane story

Alex reenacting different parts of the airplane story

Alex choosing Jasmine from Aladdin to put a spin on and making the twist that he’ll rob the wishes from Aladdin like -->

Alex: *sings* I can show you the world *interrupts* I’m just like yo, just give me these wishes. Don’t mess with me. How about this? I’ll show myself the world, okay?

I really, really very much like Alexander Calvert, okay?

Briana being distracted by herself on the stage monitor (she’s gorgeous and she knows it and is also open about how it costs her a lot of money and time and effort and how that’s not for everyone and real beauty runs so much deeper) (which is why she is the most gorgeous woman)

Jared telling us all to shut up during his Sunday morning solo panel (and basically all of his time on stage, but especially this half an hour of stage time, because my GOD he was in such a good mood)

Misha

Jensen going off on a minor rant about Game of Thrones S08E05 because yesssss

Jared doing that jump-and-a-skip at his panel with Misha

Jared’s panel with Misha

Jensen telling Misha he loves him and them hugging, only for Jensen to turn it into a joke and pretty effectively demonstrating how this is how they interact and they don’t mean anything by taking the piss out of each other because yesssss

sincerely, all the solo panels (especially Jensen’s, because he’s so sincere and open and honest about how seriously he takes his work and it’s gorgeous and inspiring and always has been and always will be and)

I mean, Jensen lying flat on his back on that stage and Misha saying You Sexy Bitch is very, very, very… overt. I side-eye. But with a whole lot of appreciation for the balls on those two. I’d venture that they know exactly what they’re doing, and I’ll forever wonder what the percentage is between performative and spur-of-the-moment. Sometimes I think you can tell, but… oh, they know what we like. Usually. :)

Jared bringing the dirty. I just love his filthy mind.

All of their filthy minds tbh. 

Singing Carry On My Wayward Son in the hallway after the final panel is just… one of the best parts, and this year they all came out and high fived and gave hugs and… it was special 

The Monday Night Concert surpassed last year’s and went on for nearly two hours and was deeply moving for many reasons and I wish to the good Heavens (…okay you know what I mean) that Jensen and Briana will record Shallow because I think their version beat the original (damn Briana’s voice is just… damn!) (and I can’t talk about Jensen singing please don’t make me talk about it) (…) (thank you)

Also Richard Speight Jr because Richard Speight Jr!!

Also just Jason Manns because Jason Manns!!

And The Four Cheese!!

See, there’s just tOO MuCH STuFF

<3

And now it’s over and I’m still hopped up on the adrenaline and the happiness and Jensen talking about spreading happiness (I believe it was either during the opening panel with he and Jared on the Saturday or his solo panel later that afternoon) made me feel light as a feather, because he’s right. A healthy dose of real happiness builds you up from the inside out and makes you believe you’re worth it. All of it, yeah? And that, whatever comes your way, you can handle it. Oh, it can be a struggle, but if you only dare to be open, then good things, my peeps. 

Good things do happen.

I hope to see you next year!!

[funeral-clown]

to my favorite tiefling

@mrsweaty merry christmas my dude

It was the simple things Jeff liked. A full night sky. A cool summer breeze. A low fire. The quiet.

Remrod absolutely did not agree, and preferred for things to be complicated. Jeff liked that about him. His father would probably say it was his mother’s flighty elf genes. Always attracting trouble.

Jeff thought Duncan was a bit ridiculous sometimes, so he wouldn’t have listened even if he HAD been there to mutter disapprovingly at Rem. Sometimes Jeff missed his muttering. Right now, though, Jeff was content to sit in the low tavern and watch his friend try to charm the barmaid.

“I swear, it’s true! I stole this bauble from right neath the lordling’s nose, and I swore it should only go to the prettiest maid I ever lay eyes on. And miss, may I be struck blue if I tell a lie to you now, but you’re the loveliest lady I have ever seen. I beg of you, take this token. Please.”

Jeff rolled his eyes goodnaturedly as the young lady flushed and fussed before accepting the shiny necklace.

“And now, there is the simple matter of settling me and my friend there’s tab...”

“Oh, don’t worry none mister, it’s on the house. Not often we get such interesting visitors around these parts.”

Rem dramatically raised his eyebrows, giving every appearance of shock.

“Beautiful and generous! I declare, I’d best hurry back to my companion before I fall in love.”

She fluttered her eyelashes at his rakish grin, and he rejoined Jeff as the simple rough-hewn table.

“Did you even have any money, Remy?”

He winked.

“Spent it all on the glass necklace.”

“You could have just paid,” Jeff pointed out neutrally, not failing, Rem noticed, to drink the purloined ale.

“Ah, my friend, but then, where would I get my fun?”

“I think you’re about to get a bit more fun, Rem.”

“Oh?”

“By the looks of things, her fiance just walked in.”

Sure enough, a scowling human man glared at him from the bar, where the woman winked and ran her fingers across the counterfeit necklace suggestively.

“Fuck.”

“Not tonight, dear, I suspect you’ll be rather bloody.”

“Jeff, you’re the fighter here. Help.”

“I dunno. I don’t like to.”

“Jeff Goldenbloom.”

“Remrod Whateveryourlastnameis.”

“I can’t believe you’ve forgotten.”

“I am, in fact, very drunk.”

“Damn. Me too.”

“Run for it?”

Remrod grinned as the man stomped over.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Well. Staying alive is fun. I personally rather enjoy it.”

“Oh, live a little.”

“More like die a little.”

“Would you leave me, my friend, to face these foes alone?”

The tone was teasing but Jeff could see the nervousness in Rem’s eyes. Always pushing things, the handsome tiefling was. Seeing what would be the last straw before you gave up on him.

Stupid horny bastard. As if he didn’t know Jeff didn’t believe in abandoning people.

“I’ll stay. But only to clean these bastards out at poker after they’re done beating your leathery ass.”

“I moisturize.”

“I know.”

Rem was dragged into a standing position and struck hard across the face. Jeff winced.

“Hello, sir.”

The angry man turned to look at the half elf, snarling. His teeth were yellowed and raged. His hair was black and course and lanky. He was big, in that way that farmers are, and probably racist. In that way that farmers are.

“Whaddya want, half-breed?”

Definitely racist.

“Well, you see, you’re holding my friend there. You belted him good. He deserved it.”

Rem made a halfhearted squawk of protest.

“But I’d say he’s learned his lesson, there, uh, big fella. He’s real learnable. So why don’t you and your lovely bearskin belt prance on over back to that beautiful fiancee of yours, and show off those big old muscles, huh? Leave him alone.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and the held as the dice of fate rolled.

17.

The man sighed before clapping Jeff on the back and heading over, flexing a bit for everyone’s benefit.

“Remrod, please tell me I didn’t just save your admittedly gorgeous neck for nothing.”

Remrod grinned through the black blood dripping down his nose.

“I got his wallet.”

“Thatta boy.”

The two merry shysters walked out into the night, with new funds and new memories.

“Straw’s gonna kill us.”

“Nah, just you. Didn’t even defend my honor.”

“You have honor?” 

[azranahr-stormchaser-blog]

Planting Flowers

There’s a certain feeling about coming home that he never gets tired of. Maybe it’s the fact that he built these four walls and everything within them himself. Maybe it’s because there’s no one here that’s going to judge him. Maybe it’s the safety that comes with there only ever being people here that he has allowed to be there. Maybe, it’s because that here, he doesn’t have to pretend.

Mostly though, it’s the sound of tiny feet running across the room, the delighted squeal of “Daddy!” and surprisingly strong little arms wrapping around his leg.

He never hesitates to swoop down and gather the girl in his arms, holding her against his chest and peppering kisses all over her face despite her giggling protests. He has just enough time to bury his nose in her hair and murmur “Missed you too, Myhk Stoh.” Before a chiding voice from the other side of the room pleads “Amy don’t run indoors,” follows. He knows he should probably reinforce that, but he just can’t bring himself to when there’s tiny hands holding on to his horns and a short tail wrapping affectionately around his arm.

Today, it’s Riel who kept her company, and despite that he’s home later than promised, there’s no annoyance in the sightless Miqo’te’s eyes. He just smiles his usual smile and asks if he managed to gather up enough interest in the business.

Which… He hadn’t. At all. That’s the entire reason he’d gone to Ul’dah today in the first place, but a smile from a bard with alluring aquamarine eyes had him forgetting all about it.

Oops.

“Eh, a little. Maybe they’ll spread the word.”

Sometimes, he’s a little unnerved that while Riel has never seen anything in his short life, he always sees right through him. He thankfully doesn’t mention anything about it though, simply reaches up so he can pat Amaryllis’ back, and she giggles and let’s go of a horn so she can lean over and pet one of the Miqo’te’s fluffy ears.

“Maybe next time then.” The young blonde answers, smiling up at both of them. “I need to be on my way. Need me to come by tomorrow?”

Bless this boy and his lack of questions. He’s certain that one day, every single thing he’s ever wanted to ask will come at once, and he owes him enough that he’d answer everything, but that’s thankfully not today. “If you could, that would be great.”

Riel simply nods, smiles up at them again, and gives them a wave. On his way out, Amy let’s out a little “Buh bye Ree!” before the door quietly opens and closes behind him, and father and daughter are left alone.

That was the easy part. Now, how exactly was he going to do this? He’d made up little scenarios in his head on the way home, but if he’s learned anything about parenting in the short three years that Amy has been in his life, it’s that children are unpredictable. He crosses the room in a few quick strides, setting the girl down on the sofa while he kneels on the floor so they can almost be at eye level. Despite how much she’s grown, it still amazes him how tiny she is. Granted, there’s a lot to say for perspective and how almost everyone appears small to an eight fulm man, and her prematurity is a big contributing factor, but he can’t help but to keep noticing it, and how vulnerable that makes her.

It’s terrifying, if he’s honest.

“So uh…” he begins, and Amaryllis’ bright green and amber eyes fix upon him with rapt attention. Sometimes, when he looks at her face like this, he’s a little saddened that the bright emerald eye is the only thing she inherited from her mother, and even then, it’s marred with the mark of what they are with her other eye. He never voices that though, never wants her to feel like she has to hide it like he does.

“S’mthing wrong Daddy?” she asks, her head tipped to the side, and her voice sounding so very worried that he wants to scoop her up again and cuddle her. Her tiny hands reach out for his face, and he leans forward so she can place them on his cheeks.

“No, nothing’s wrong Princess.” He tells her, covering the top of her head with his hand and carefully ruffling her hair. She makes a sound of protest, never liking having her hair messed up, and it always makes him smile with how very much like himself she is about her hair. “But there is something important that I want to talk to you about before bedtime. You’re not too sleepy are you?”

“Nuh uh!”

Of course she isn’t. She’s never too sleepy when he gets home, even if she actually is. That makes him smile too, and he sets his hands down on either of the girl’s knees.

“Okay, so,” dammit how does he do this? She’s only three, there’s a limit to what she can actually understand, but at the same time, he promised himself that he would never lie to her like the way he knows many parents do with their children. He never told her that babies are given to parents by a magical flying chocobo, nor that they were Au Ra. He’s always told her the truth, albeit in what he deems to be in an age appropriate manner, but the truth none the less.

He clears his throat and tries again. “So uh, I made a new friend a little while back, and-“

“Like Uncle Tristan!?” and that makes him laugh, Sylveret couldn’t be further from Tristan, both in personality and in the nature of their friendship.

“Uh no, he’s not like Uncle Tristan, he’s more like-“

“Mister Al then? Or! Or! Uncle Lou?”

“Sweetie please, let me finish.”

“Sorry Daddy.” She whispers, looking down at the large scaled hands he still has upon her knees, and his heart melts at just how very sincere she sounds. He leans forward and kisses her forehead.

“It’s alright, Myhk Stoh,” he tells her, and she preens at the nickname, “But I really like spending time with him. He’s a lot of fun. But-“

“Is he a pirate too?” he knows he should scold her for interrupting him again, but her eyes are so huge and full of questions that he just can’t bring himself to.

“No honey, he’s a singer.”

“Oh wow!” she leaps up onto her feet, but her balance isn’t great on the cushion and she wobbles, holding on to her father’s shoulders, “Will he come sing for us? Can he teach me songs? Is he gunna play your harp? Cuz you never play it and-“

“Amy.”

“….Sorry.”

He can’t help but laugh again. Amaryllis always gets so enthusiastic about everything, and it is a little infectious. He sets his hands on her sides, encouraging her to sit down again.

“Maybe. It’s early days yet sweetheart.”

Her huge eyes blink at him owlishly, her head tipped to one side, snowy white curls falling over her shoulder. “Early?”

This is the part he was dreading. How do you explain this to a child? Why isn’t there some kind of book telling you how to do these things? In the back of his mind, he resolves to do just that, if this goes well. “Stormchaser’s guide to telling your kid you’re dating again.” He snorts to himself, maybe not.

“Well… You see…” dammit, now his mouth is going dry. He should have poured them both some fruit juice, “He’s kind of… He’s a different kind of friend. He’s uh…” Just spit it out you fool. “We’re going on a date soon, so-“

He’s interrupted again with a tiny gasp, Amaryllis’ tiny hands lift to her face to cover her mouth. Her voice is barely above a whisper and full of wonder “Daddy? Are you in love?”

He chokes. As unpredictable as children can be, he hadn’t expected that at all. “Well, I wouldn’t say love but-“

“But don’t people in love go on dates? Didn’t you and mama go on dates? You love mama so-“

Dammit. He was really hoping she wouldn’t bring up her mother. It still hurts, even though it’s been years, and that niggling part of his mind questions if what he’s been doing with Sylveret is really okay. Is it too soon? Will the time ever be right?

“Your mother and I did go on dates, yes but…” words. How? Help.

“Are you gunna marry your friend Daddy?”

“Amy.”

“But isn’t that what people in love do?”

He takes a deep breath, and as he does so, his eyes catch on the deep red amaryllis flower in it’s blue pot upon the table. Perfect. He reaches out for it and picks it up, setting it on the cushion in front of Amy’s feet.

“Remember when we planted this flower? It was just a tiny bulb, wasn’t it?”

Amaryllis nods, her brow furrowed in confusion, and he has to remind himself that they’re having an important conversation and now isn’t the time to get distracted by how utterly adorable she looks like that.

“Okay, so. Love is kind of like a flower. It doesn’t start as a flower. It’s just… Lots of really warm and nice feelings. You might meet someone and think, ‘I really like this person, and I want to spend a lot of time with them.’” He pauses, waiting for her to process that, “That’s the bulb and the soil, okay? Now, what happened to this bulb when we looked after it?”

Amy chews on her sleeve, and he reaches out to coax the fabric out of her mouth, he really needs to try and break that habit. After a long moment of some very serious thinking, the girl finally looks up at him. “It became a flower!”

“But not right away, remember?” his finger taps at the long green stem, “At first, it was just a little shoot, and we had to give it lots of water and fertiliser to make sure it was healthy and could grow, didn’t we?” she nods again, and he sets the flower aside, “Love is like that Princess, at first it’s just a little bulb, and it needs lots of time to grow. Sometimes something isn’t right though, and it doesn’t grow enough for a flower to bloom. Sometimes it does, but I don’t know if there’s going to be any flowers yet.”

Amy is looking at her lap again, her face all kinds of serious and maybe even a little confused. But he can see the metaphorical gears turning in her head. Eventually, she speaks, her voice very small, “You and mama had flowers, right? Do you still…?” she mumbles so quietly he can’t hear the rest, but he doesn’t really need to. He climbs up to sit on the sofa, gently pulling her into his arms and hugging her tight.

“Oh love,” he says, burying his face into her hair, “Your mother and I have the best flower of all. The loveliest, prettiest flower there is in the entire world.” He smiles down at her as she looks up at him with eyes full of wonder, “You, silly. And she and I will always have that, no matter what happens, even though she’s not here anymore. Understand?”

She nods again, snuggling close to her father’s chest, and once again he’s filled with that overwhelming feeling of protectiveness, and it still surprises him that he can feel so much love for someone.

“And no matter if a new flower grows or not, I will always, always love your mother. No one can ever replace her. And no one can ever be more important than you, alright?”

She nods one more time, and then she’s climbing up him so she can place a kiss upon his cheek. A warm chuckle rumbles in his chest, and he ruffles her hair again, which she doesn’t protest this time.

“So, Daddy,” she begins, and he looks down at her fondly.

“Yes Princess?”

“When do I get to meet your friend?”

It was a struggle putting Amy to bed without actually answering the question, he’s still not sure how he managed it.

[networkingdefinition]

Girl Quotes

Official Website: Girl Quotes

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• A beautiful girl can make you dizzy, like you’ve been drinking Jack and Coke all morning. She can make you feel high full of the single greatest commodity known to man – promise. Promise of a better day. Promise of a greater hope. Promise of a new tomorrow. This particular aura can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl. In her smile, in her soul, the way she makes every rotten little thing about life seem like it’s going to be okay. – Michael Rapaport • A gifted small girl has explained that pins are a great means of saving life, “by not swallowing them. – Charles Edward Montague • A girl can wait for the right man to come along but in the meantime that still doesn’t mean she can’t have a wonderful time with all the wrong ones. – Cher • A girl conceived in China has to run an eerie kind of gauntlet if she is to survive. many parents will use the ultrasound technique. and, if it reveals. a girl, they’ll abort her. If it reveals the baby is a boy, they’ll celebrate. – Steven W. Mosher • A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous. – Coco Chanel • A girl with brains ought to do something with them besides think. – Anita Loos • A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other… maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever. – Dave Matthews • A liberal is a person who sees a fourteen-year-old girl performing sex acts onstage and wonders if she’s being paid minimum wage. – Irving Kristol • A toddling little girl is a centre of common feeling which makes the most dissimilar people understand each other. – George Eliot • A wise girl knows her limits, a smart girl knows that she has none. – Marilyn Monroe • Alas for those girls who’ve refused the truth: The sweetest tongue has the sharpest tooth. – Jack Zipes • All girls should have a poem written for them even if we have to turn this goddamn world upside down to do it. – Richard Brautigan • All little girls should be told they are pretty. – Marilyn Monroe • Always been a goal-oriented girl. it was both her strength and her weakness. She had a drive to completion that always gets things done, but it also made her inflexible, and stubborn. – Neal Shusterman • Always know that if you’re not happy with yourself, no one else can change that, no girl or guy, no amount of money; only yourself. – Shannon Leto • Always take a compliment, Caroline. Always take it for the way it was intended. You girls are always so quick to twist what others say. Simply say thank you and move on. – Alice Clayton • Any girl can be glamorous. All you have to do is stand still and look stupid. – Hedy Lamarr • Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves. – Albert Einstein • As Deborah Rhode describes, “When 1,100 Michigan elementary students were asked to describe what life would be like if they were the opposite sex, over 40 percent of the girls saw advantages to being male; they would have better jobs, higher incomes, and more respect. Ninety-five percent of the boys saw no advantage to being female, and a substantial number thought suicide would be preferable.” – Deborah Rhode • At a recent show, I looked out and I saw this girl crying in the audience and it really affected me. I wanted to stop the song and go and give her a hug. I should have, actually – I regret not doing that. – Elena Tonra • At the fourth grade level, girls at the same percentages of boys say they’re interested in careers in engineering or math or astrophysics, but by eighth grade that has dropped precipitously. – Chelsea Clinton

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Girl+', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_girl').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_girl img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Basically, anything a sexual predator might do to woo a small suburban girl, I was trying. – Lena Dunham • Be that strong girl that everyone knew would make it through the worst, be that fearless girl, the one who would dare to do anything, be that independent girl who didn’t need a man; be that girl who never backed down. – Taylor Swift • Before marriage, a girl has to make love to a man to hold him. After marriage, she has to hold him to make love to him. – Marilyn Monroe • Between the ages of fourteen and twenty-four, foreplay changes from being something that boys want to do and girls don’t, to something that women want and men can’t be bothered with. … The perfect match, if you ask me, is between the Cosmo woman and the fourteen-year old boy. – Nick Hornby • Big girls need big diamonds. – Elizabeth Taylor • Boys think girls are like books, If the cover doesn’t catch their eye they won’t bother to read what’s inside”. – Marilyn Monroe • Boys will be boys. And even that wouldn’t matter if only we could prevent girls from being girls. – Anne Frank • But I am a girl with a keen interest in having it all, and what follows are hopeful dispatches from the frontlines of that struggle. – Lena Dunham • But I’ve always been fascinated with that prettiest-girl-in-the-class person that I never was, getting inside her head and showing that she’s just as tormented and messed up as everybody else. – Cecily von Ziegesar • Byrd, the former Klu [sic] Klux Klan Kleagle, is taking a stand over states’ rights, or his rights over State, or some such. Whatever the reason, the sight of an old Klansman blocking a little colored girl from Birmingham from getting into her office contributed to the general retro vibe that hangs around the Democratic Party these days. – Mark Steyn

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend. Freedom is. – Camille Grammer • Due to the potent combination of my sexual recklessness and the slutty nature of some of the girls I have slept with, I have accumulated enough stories and anecdotes about abortion that they could name a Planned Parenthood clinic after me. – Tucker Max • Eating has always come up whenever and wherever. Maybe it’s because we’re girls, we have a lot of interest in eating. – Kim Hyo-yeon • Even today, well-brought-up English girls are taught by their mothers to boil all veggies for at least a month and a half, just in case one of the dinner guests turns up without his teeth. – Calvin Trillin • Every girl is a goddess. – Francesca Lia Block • Every girl likes feeling hot and sexy and beautiful and likes hearing it. – Hayden Panettiere • Every girl should use what Mother Nature gave her before Father Time takes it away. – Laurence J. Peter • Every girl wants to be the one girl that can change that guy – Lauren Conrad • Everyone fixes up their face if it’s not ideal, you know? That’s because of the race-mixing. For example, a Russian marries an Armenian. They have a kid, a cute girl, but she has her dad’s nose. She goes and files it down a little, and it’s all good. Ethnicities are mixing now, so there’s degeneration, and it didn’t used to be like that. Remember how many beautiful women there were in the 1950s and 1960s, without any surgery? And now, thanks to degeneration, we have this. – Valeria Lukyanova • Everything here is so weak, little girl. Everything breaks so easily. They want such simple things. – Neil Gaiman • Fun is fun but no girl wants to laugh all of the time. – Anita Loos • Girl with the burning golden eyes, And red-bird song, and snowy throat: I bring you gold and silver moons, And diamond stars, and mists that float. I bring you moons and snowy clouds, I bring you prarie skies to-night To feebly praise your golden eyes And red-bird song, and throat so white. ~Vachel Lindsay “To Gloriana” God wrote His loveliest poem on the day He made the first silver poplar tree, And set it high upon a pale-gold hill For all the new enchanted earth to see. – Grace Noll Crowell • Girl, when he gives you kisses twain, use one, and let the other stay; And hoard it, for moons die, red fades, and you may need a kiss—some day. – Ridgely Torrence • Girls are like exotic birds. They are pretty to look at but hard to catch. – Howie Dorough • Girls are so queer you never know what they mean. They say No when they mean Yes, and drive a man out of his wits for the fun of it. – Louisa May Alcott • Girls are trained to say, ‘I wrote this, but it’s probably really stupid.’ Well, no, you wouldn’t write a novel if you thought it was really stupid. Men are much more comfortable going, ‘I wrote this book because I have a unique perspective that the world needs to hear.’ Girls are taught from the age of seven that if you get a compliment, you don’t go, ‘Thank you’, you go, ‘No, you’re insane. – Lena Dunham • Girls aren’t beautiful, they’re pretty. Beautiful is too heavy a word to assign to a girl. Women are beautiful because their faces show that they know they have lost something and picked up something else. – Henry Rollins • Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, and flare up bodily, wings and all. What then? Who’s sorry for a gnat or girl? – Elizabeth Barrett Browning • Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also. – John Steinbeck • Girls have an unfair advantage over men: if they can’t get what they want by being smart, they can get it by being dumb. – Yul Brynner • Girls like to be played with and rumpled a little too sometimes. – Oliver Goldsmith • Girls like to see girls dressed up like princesses occasionally. – Nelly • Girls see these defined roles they’re supposed to follow in life, but when I was a young child, my parents told me I could be anything. – Joan Jett • Girls should go on thinking that there is a world out there and that it is theirs for the taking. – Anne Bancroft • Girls are like buses, miss one, next fifteen, one comin. – Gucci Mane • Girls. You never know what they’re going to think. – J. D. Salinger • Give me a girl at an impressionable age and she is mine for life. – Muriel Spark • God forbid you be an ugly girl, ‘course too pretty is also your doom, ’cause everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room. – Ani DiFranco • Growing up, I wanted desperately to please, to be a good girl. – Claire Danes • Hannah expected this to make her sob even more, but instead she found her tears drying up and her tummy growing warm. How dare they? How dare they do this to little girls? She understood now why her parents go so angry when they saw the result of bombers in the white hot streets of the Middle East, why men and women wailed in anger as well as grief as they lifted the limp bodies of children from the rubble. How dare they? No, she wasn’t going to die like this, wrapped up like some helpless baby. – Stephen M. Irwin • Harder is Better! Post work out! Foot in the Ice Bath. A girl has to make a living! #hardcandytoronto. #addictedtosweat – Madonna Ciccone • Have you heard about the morning after pill, or what I like to call breakfast in bed. Well have you heard about how some of the girls who have taken have died a few days later? Talk about two birds, looks like I will be going to the game this weekend boys. – Daniel Tosh • Honestly if a girl’s wearing, like, a Gucci shirt with a Gucci belt and a purse and a visor, that’s not cute at all. You can’t get away with that – with me – but you can always sprinkle it in there with your own stuff and it’s all good. – Kreayshawn • How long do small girls play with their dolls? As long as they are not married and do not live with their husbands. After marriage they put the dolls away in a box. What further need is there of worshipping the image after the vision of God? – Ramakrishna • How long is a girl a child? She is a child, and then one morning you wake up she’s a woman, and a dozen different people of whom you recognize none. – Louis L’Amour • I abstain from any kind of release for six weeks before a fight, no self-pleasure, nothing. Even in my dreams, I’ll be about to have sex with a beautiful girl and I’ll say, ‘Sorry darling, I’m fighting in a few weeks.’ That’s control, bro, when you’re turning down a hot chick in your subconscious. – David Haye • I always see guys get all, like, flexed on other people, trying to show off that they are tough, and it is just, like, no girl really likes that. – Kreayshawn • I always tell my mom I don’t have regular problems. I have problems, like, what type of girl is going to say they’re pregnant by me today? Those are the types of issues I have. – Fetty Wap • I am an artsy girl. It’s no secret that I am artsy, you know. – Kreayshawn • I avoid the young adult section altogether if possible, although it’s sometimes fun to catch a girl lying on the floor, reading “Gossip Girl.” – Cecily von Ziegesar • I basically became a cheerleader because I had a very strict mom. That was my way of being a bad girl. – Sandra Bullock • I could not lose unless I was caught in bed with a dead girl or a live boy. – Edwin Edwards • I did find a wonderful girl last year, but the photographs that we did were more about motorcars. – Helmut Newton • I don’t get it when girls say ‘I’m fine’ but don’t mean it. – Conor Maynard • I don’t like that sort of school… where the bright childish imagination is utterly discouraged… where I have never seen among the pupils, whether boys or girls, anything but little parrots and small calculating machines. – Charles Dickens • I don’t want to be one of those people who falls out of cabs drunk. But I don’t want to be known as some boring girl who just sits at home and doesn’t do anything. – Pixie Lott • I don’t want to be remembered as the girl who was shot. I want to be remembered as the girl who stood up. – Malala Yousafzai • I don’t want to be stinky poo poo girl, I want to be happy flower child. – Drew Barrymore • I doubt whether any girl would be satisfied with her lover’s mind if she knew the whole of it. – Anthony Trollope • I get some letters from girls that if their mothers knew what they were writing me in these letters, they’d get their butts whipped. – Rick James • I got started dancing because I knew it was one way to meet girls. – Gene Kelly • I hate dainty minds,’ answered Marjorie. ‘But a girl has to be dainty in person. If she looks like a million dollars she can talk about Russia, ping-pong, or the League of Nations and get away with it. – F. Scott Fitzgerald • I have never been a material girl. My father always told me never to love anything that cannot love you back. – Imelda Marcos • I have often been downcast, but never in despair; I regard our hiding as a dangerous adventure, romantic and interesting at the same time. In my diary I treat all the privations as amusing. I have made up my mind now to lead a different life from other girls and, later on, different from ordinary housewives. My start has been so very full of interest, and that is the sole reason why I have to laugh at the humorous side of the most dangerous moments. – Anne Frank • I have the same goal I’ve had ever since I was a girl: I want to rule the world. – Madonna Ciccone • I just don’t want to cozy up to the guy whose girl I have every intention of stealing. – Aprilynne Pike • I knew the men were probably terrible people who whistled at pretty girls, treated their wives like servants, and voted for Nixon every chance they got, but as far as I was concerned, they beat the hell out of a Volvo-load of liberals for hard work and good times. – James Crumley • I like Dancing of Indian girls more than my parents’ prayers . Because they dance with love and passion . But my parents just say their prayers because they got used to it . – Ali Shariati • I like the idea that I can talk to any teenage girls. You know, in a language that makes sense to them. – Louise Rennison • I like women, especially beautiful ones. If they have a good face and figure, I would much prefer to watch them being murdered than an ugly girl or man. – Dario Argento • I love a girl with a sense of humor. Someone who can make me laugh and that I can get along with and talk with and who is just sweet overall, inside and out. – Logan Henderson • I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels. – Maya Angelou • I love you girl…to the moon and back. – Abbi Glines • I loved when my boyfriends would call me their Amazon girl. – Patti Hansen • I may be a man, but I fight like a girl. – Andy Cohen • I met eight great members. I really don’t think that anyone else could get along like how our nine girls get along so well. Because we’re girls, there can be a lot of jealousy going on. Thinking back on it now, I think I’m a kid who received a lot of good fortune. – Kim Hyo-yeon • I might get some more animals or something, but I’m done with the kids. I got a boy, I got a girl, and I got an older boy. I’m straight. – Jada Pinkett Smith • I never cheat unless you count the girls I cheat on – Drake • I pray to God I get inside a girl’s head one day and see what in the WORLD they are thinking. – A. J. McLean • I really can’t deny it, I am who I am. I’m pretty normal. I’m not that smooth type of girl. I run into things, I trip, I spill food. I say stupid things… I really don’t have it all together. – Katie Holmes • I think girls are the most beautiful when they become a mother. – Minzy • I think it’s important to make all women feel like they’re princesses, because every girl is a princess. I’m serious. – Justin Bieber • I try to not be too hard on myself regarding my diet. I’ve always been a workout-to-eat kind of a girl. I like to eat, to say the least. – Jennie Finch • I want girls to feel the confidence you get from being smart. – Danica McKellar • I want to make sure I’m with a girl that’s a good kisser, and that when I wake up, I have coffee and a cigarette. That’s all I really want out of life. That, and world domination. – Ryan Adams • I wanted to give young girls something positive to look up to…I wanted to give them their Blizzard of Aahhhs, Ski Movie or High Life, but done in a way that also shows the elegance, grace, community and style that is unique to women in the mountains. – Lynsey Dyer • I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty… you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. – J. D. Salinger • I was coming off of The O.C. and had very little interest in doing another teen drama. And then I got sent theGossip Girl book series, and I was like, ‘I might not be ready to leave high school after all.’ – Josh Schwartz • I was not a Southern California girl. I hated having my photograph taken. I felt shy and embarrassed around famous people. – Allegra Huston • I was so thrilled that I was having a girl, because I just am so girly myself, but I think the teenage years are going to be very interesting. – Sarah Dessen • I wish my mother had left me something about how she felt growing up. I wish my grandmother had done the same. I wanted my girls to know me. – Carol Burnett • I wrote the story myself. It’s all about a girl who lost her reputation but never missed it. – Mae West • I’m convinced that a world in which girls are educated is a safer, more stable, more prosperous place. – Barack Obama • I’m not a vomit in the club kinda girl. – Lady Gaga • I’d never really babysat. I feel like I’m Blair, or ‘Gossip Girl.’ A teenager, basically – and now suddenly I’m a mom? – Cecily von Ziegesar • If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late? Nobody. – J. D. Salinger • If a girl thinks she isn’t beautiful, I’m here to prove her wrong. – Kendall Schmidt • If I get married one day, or meet the girl I like, I’ll prepare 100m to 150m of candles, or maybe red carpet – Lee Donghae • If I had to give a definition of capitalism I would say: the process whereby American girls turn into American women. – Christopher Hampton • If I were a girl, I’d despair. The supply of good women far exceeds that of the men who deserve them. – Robert Graves • If the media is sending girls the message that their value lies in their bodies, this can only leave them feeling disempowered and distract them from making a difference and becoming leaders. – Jennifer Siebel Newsom • If we are to maximize the potential of young girls everywhere, we have to think, in this instance, literally outside the box. And the first step of doing that is to see the box for what it really is: A perfect, pretty PROBLEM. – David Trumble • If we’re going to reach a broader audience, we have to stop thinking about that audience strictly in terms of teenage boys or even teenage girls. We need to think about things that are relevant to normal humans and not just the geeks we used to be. – Warren Spector • If you can educate girls, you can change the world. – Cathie Black • If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything. – Marilyn Monroe • If you invest in a girl or a woman, you are investing in everybody else. – Melinda Gates • I’m a cereal girl. I have always loved my cereal ever since I was a kid. – Rachel Stevens • I’m a Mommy’s Girl – the strongest influence in my young life was my mom. – Susie Bright • I’m a role model for lots of young girls. – Jennie Finch • I’m down to bleach my eyebrows again. I tell you what, though – that didn’t go down well with my boyfriend. Girls love it. Guys, not so into it. – Florence Welch • I’m into the girls fancying me and stuff, mad for it. – Liam Gallagher • I’m no expert on girls, but when one tries to pinch you four times, I’m pretty sure that’s flirting – Ransom Riggs • I’m not God but if I were God, ¾ of you would be girls, and the rest would be pizza and beer. – Axl Rose • I’m still chasing girls. I don’t remember what for, but I’m still chasing them. – Joe E. Lewis • I’m the girl who still believes prince charming exists somewhere out there. – Taylor Swift • I’m tired of playing little girls. I’m a woman now. I can’t run around forever being the Little Miss Fix It who bursts into song. I want to get out of Hollywood and get a fresh approach. – Deanna Durbin • I’m usually the sparkle in a closet full of conservative clothes. Either that or my customer has a closet full of my clothes and a few conservative suits from Calvin Klein. I think you’ve got to give a girl what’s missing from her closet. If something jazzy, tacky or sexy is what’s missing, I provide it. – Betsey Johnson • I’m weirdly flexible, so when I dance, I dance like a 17-year-old girl. – Michael Angarano • In America every woman has her set of girl-friends; some are cousins, the rest are gained at school. These form a permanent committee who sit on each other’s affairs, who come out together, marry and divorce together, and who end as those groups of bustling, heartless well-informed club-women who govern society. Against them the Couple of Ehepaar is helpless and Man in their eyes but a biological interlude. – Cyril Connolly • In my 20s I was going round seeing agents who were patronising because I was fat and a girl, which was a double whammy. I knew what it was to feel out-of-the-loop. – Victoria Wood • In school, I was the quietest girl ever! I had a lot of trouble in school. Kids were mean to me. – Cher Lloyd • Independent minded girls that are naked sounds like a great start to something. – Joshua Homme • It had never once occurred to me that the paper I wanted to work for would not want me. Certainly I never expected to be rejected solely because I was a girl! – Kathryn Tucker Windham • It’s all up to you, girls. You have to be strong. These are the days of post-women’s liberation. You have grown up by now and you have to take care of yourself. No one’s going to help you. – Kathy Acker • It’s like — I don’t know, sometimes it’s like chasing a pretty girl on the beach. And things I never thought I could do… I can do. – Ryan Adams • It’s not beauty but fine qualities, my girl, that keep a husband. – Euripides • It’s the good girls who keep diaries; the bad girls never have the time. – Tallulah Bankhead • It’s tough now to meet a girl who wants to hang out with you because she likes your personality – who hasn’t seen you on TV and is like, ‘Hey!’ – Shaun White • Ive always loved when girls carry their wallets as a clutch instead of a bag. – Alexander Wang • I’ve been looking for a girl like you – not you, but a girl like you. – Groucho Marx • Just watching a girl can give me the best reason to smile. Girls are something very special and you got to treat them that way. That’s why I always say don’t stare right at a chick. She’ll begin to fidget, wondering if her hair’s messed up or if her make-up is smeared. It’s kind of like going to an art gallery to see beautiful paintings. If you look at a painting just the right way, you get the most out of it! – Michael Jackson • Kissing babies and hugging fat girls. – Dave Bautista • Like every other girl in the world, my most embarrassing moment had to do with a guy completely turning me down. His loss! – Kelly Clarkson • Little girls, like butterflies, need no excuse. – Robert A. Heinlein • Many a man in love with a dimple makes the mistake of marrying the whole girl. – Stephen Leacock • Modern art is what happens when painters stop looking at girls and persuade themselves that they have a better idea. – John Ciardi • Modesty is invisibility… Never forget it. To be seen – to be seen – is to be… penetrated. What you must be girls, is impenetrable. – Margaret Atwood • More men than women like ‘Strangers With Candy’. Pretty girls don’t like the show. They don’t like to see an ugly lady. – Amy Sedaris • More than anything, acting helped me discover who I’m not. I’ve learned that I’m a girly girl, but not a prissy girl. – Debby Ryan • My mother was my Girl Scout leader, and George’s mother was his Cub Scout leader. In fact, that’s when some say her hair turned white. – Laura Bush • My real dream is to have a whole, like, buy a whole piece of land. Imagine, like, a long driveway. Like, a cul de sac-type street, with maybe, like, seven houses. Me be right here. Have my mom be able to be right here. My brother over here. My girl’s grandmother and family right here. Friends over there. That’s my real dream. – J. Cole • Nature makes boys and girls lovely to look upon so they can be tolerated until they acquire some sense. – M. William Phelps • Never call a girl fat, even if you’re joking. – Demi Lovato • Never love someone whom you think you need to mend – or who makes you feel like you should be mended. There are boys out there who look for shining girls; they will stand next to you and say quiet things in your ear that only you can hear and that will slowly drain the joy out of your heart. The books about vampires are true, baby. Drive a stake through their hearts and run away. – Caitlin Moran • No girl wants a secretly gay boyfriend, every dude wants a secretly gay girlfriend. – Joe Rogan • No legal ceremony–no election of the woman–no penalty for the perfidy of the man–no law to compel him to do his duty, no compensation for the poor woman who is turned adrift like the girl of the street, penniless, to sell herself on the best possible terms. This is Divine marriage, or Moses and the Bible lie; and this is Bible divorce–putting away! – Victoria Woodhull • No one ever told me I was pretty when I was a little girl. All little girls should be told they’re pretty, even if they aren’t. – Marilyn Monroe • No one knows how it is that with one glance a boy can break through into a girl’s heart. – Nancy Thayer • Nobody loves a fat girl, but oh how a fat girl can love. – Jim Croce • Only one girl has ever really wrapped my stomach into pretzels. She didn’t give me butterflies. She gave me pterodactyls I’m talking terrible internal bruising and the first time I kissed her was like the first time I saw fireworks, which was like the sky first kissing me in the eyeballs – George Watsky • Over 270 girls were kidnapped for going to school in Nigeria! They are still missing! I’M outraged and you should be too!! I’m supporting www.globalfundforwomen.org Join me and take a stand!!!!!!! #Bringbackourgirls #revolutionoflove – Madonna Ciccone • Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. – Albert Einstein • Put yourself in Hamlet’s shoes. Suppose you were a prince, and you came back from college to discover that your uncle had murdered your father and married your mother, and you fell in love with a beautiful girl and mistakenly murdered her father, and then she went crazy and drowned herself. What would you do? Go back for a masters? – Art Buchwald • Sex is something I really don’t understand too hot. You never know where the hell you are. I keep making up these sex rules for myself, and then I break them right away. Last year I made a rule that I was going to quit horsing around with girls that, deep down, gave me a pain in the ass. I broke it, though, the same week I made it – the same night, as a matter of fact. – J. D. Salinger • She was a natural blonde, with delicate hands and feet, and in her youthful photographs one saw a girl with mocking eyes and a tragic smile, the course of whose life would conspire in time to transpose that pair of adjectives. – Michael Chabon • She’s the wild, feline, untamed part of you, your sexual alter ego and the opposite of the “good girl” or “little lady.” Some of us know her better than others do, but I would venture to guess that your erotic creature hasn’t seen nearly enough light of day. – Sheila Kelley • She’s the kind of girl who climbed the ladder of success wrong by wrong. – Mae West • Some guys like to undermine a girl’s self-esteem with little verbal jabs. Eventually it all adds up. One bee sting doesn’t hurt a horse, but enough bee stings can kill a horse. – Oliver Gaspirtz • Sometimes I see really skinny girls. They may look great, but…they’re not happy. Have a cupcake. – Kathy Wakile • Straight to the top, rooftop glows. With a hand full of girls and they all so foreign. Brain so poisoned, rainbows flowing. – The Weeknd • Take away the Big Bang and what has God done? Burned a bush and got a girl pregnant. Great, he’s a high school junior. – Stephen Colbert • The American girl makes a servant of her husband and then finds him contemptible for being a servant – John Steinbeck • The best accessories a girl can have are her closest friends. – Paris Hilton • The best thing a girl can be is a good wife and mother. It is a girl’s highest calling. I hope I am ready. – Nancy E. Turner • The cuter girls kinda went off from the older women because we’re younger, and we’re cuter, we’ve got better bodies, and for some reason that’s like a huge issue with older people. – Heidi • The emotional, sexual, and psychological stereotyping of females begins when the doctor says, ‘It’s a girl.’ – Shirley Chisholm • The girl has a funny way of romanticizing things. – Karen Russell • The girls show more skin these days, but I think, generally, they behave the same way as when I was growing up. – Cecily von Ziegesar • The jamaat was an almost silly mish-mash of people: Rude Dawud’s pork-pie hat poking up here, a jalab-and-turban there, Jehangir’s big Mohawk rising from a sea of kufis, Amazing Ayyub still with no shirt, girls scattered throughout – some in hejab, some not and Rabeya in punk-patched burqa doing her thing. But in its randomness it was gorgeous, reflecting an Islam I felt could not happen anywhere else … If Islam was to be saved, it would be saved by the crazy ones: Jehangir and Rabeya and Fasiq and Dawud and Ayyub and even Umar. – Michael Muhammad Knight • There are many facts within fiction. This captivating story provides invaluable insights into the childhood of a girl who has Asperger’s syndrome. Fiction allows the author to explore different perspectives and add poignancy to the experiences of sensory sensitivity and being bullied and teased of someone who has Asperger’s syndrome. The title Delightfully Different describes Asperger’s syndrome but also the qualities of this novel. – Tony Attwood • There are no good girls gone wrong – just bad girls found out. – Mae West • There are so many girls, and so few princes. – Liza Minnelli • There are two things that are more difficult than making an after-dinner speech: climbing a wall which is leaning toward you and kissing a girl who is leaning away from you. – Winston Churchill • There is a small window of opportunity for freckled girls to tan. – Jeffrey Eugenides • There is no shortage of evidence that when we support the fundamental freedoms of women and girls, they are able to realize their full potential to engage in, contribute to and benefit from sustainable development. In doing so, we will all reap the benefits; in our homes, throughout our communities, and across our nations. – Sam Kutesa • There is not one female comic who was beautiful as a little girl. – Joan Rivers • There was a little girl, When she was good, she was very, very good. But when she was bad, she was horrid. – Jun Mochizuki • There was the time I bought three cars in the span of three or four weeks. It was crazy; it wasn’t greedy. It was mine, my girl’s, my mom’s. I got Benzes for my ladies. But I felt crazy. You have to understand I come from a world where we’re very modest. But that’s not greedy. That’s nice, right? – J. Cole • There were about ten years of trying, failing, trying again, suffering rejection, etc. My first published book, ‘Story of a Girl’, was the fourth book I wrote. – Sara Zarr • There’s no point for me to party. I have a girl that I love. I don’t need that. – Ryan Cabrera • There’s only a very small representation of girls among you. Too little. Women have much to tell us in today’s society. Sometimes we are too machistas and we don’t allow enough space to women. But women can see things from a different angle to us, with a different eye. Women are able to pose questions we men are unable to understand. Look out for this fact: she is the only one who has put a question for which there is no answer. She couldn’t put it into words but expressed it with tears. – Pope Francis • These Jews who run things, who are producing this mental illness ¬-teenage suicide…all these Jewish sicknesses…that’s nothing new. The Talmud’s full of things like sex with boys and girls. – David Duke • This attitude means you haven’t met a girl worthy of your attention. You’ll want to get caught if the right girl comes along. – Simone Elkeles • This is why I can’t be with Levi. Because I’m the kind of girl who fantasizes about being trapped in a library overnight-and Levi can’t even read. – Rainbow Rowell • This was how the modern working girl behaved. She didn’t hide her femininity or apologize for it, as they did in the old days. She flaunted it and, having been given more than any woman before her, demanded even more than that. – J. Courtney Sullivan • This-this was what made life: a moment of quiet, the water falling in the fountain, the girl’s voice. . . a moment of captured beauty. Those who are truly wise will never permit such moments to escape. – Louis L’Amour • To find out a girl’s faults, praise her to her girlfriends. – Benjamin Franklin • Today’s girls are tomorrow’s women – and leaders. – Isabel Allende • Too many girls follow the line of least resistance, but a good line is hard to resist. – Mae West • Wait until France gets a hard shot in the nose. Wait until France reacts with some nasty work. They’ll get a golf-clap from the chattering class over here and a you-go-girl from Red America. France could nuke an Algerian terrorist camp and the rest of the world would tut-tut for a day, then ask if the missiles France used were for sale. And of course the answer would be oui. – James Lileks • We are living in a material world and I’m a material girl. – Madonna Ciccone • We do not suffer by accident. It does not often happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in love with only a few days before. – Elizabeth Bennett • We had no irony when it came to girls, though. There was just no time to develop it. One moment they weren’t there, not in any form that interested us, anyway, and the next you couldn’t miss them; they were everywhere, all over the place. One moment you wanted to clonk them on the head for being your sister, or someone else’s sister, and the next you wanted to….actually, we didn’t know what we wanted next, but it was something. Almost overnight, all these sisters (there was no other kind of girl, not yet)had become interesting, disturbing, even. – Nick Hornby • We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us… and we drown. – T. S. Eliot • We must not close our eyes to the fact that there are conspiring men who would pollute young boys, and girls of corresponding age, for sake of increasing profits. – David O. McKay • We’re every age at once and tucked inside ourselves like Russian nesting dolls. My mother is an 8 year old girl. My grandson is a 74 year old retiree whose kidneys just failed. And that’s the glue between me and you. That’s the screws and nails. We live in a house made of each other and if that sounds strange that’s because it is. – George Watsky • Well Stephanie, I’d like to thank you for giving me such a kind Christmas gift, but unfortunately I didn’t get you any gifts. But then again, what can you get for the girl whose had everyone? – Chris Jericho • Well, we’re living in a material world, and I’m a material girl… or boy. – Adam Sandler • What are you two doing flirting with this nerd? I told you, you are supposed to be in charge of the 50 dancing girls I had set up for Miz’s celebration. – Alex Riley • What better job is there for a 17-year-old girl than being in a pop group? – Susan Ann Sulley • What do I like in a girl? I like a girl that likes me, a girl that knows how to smile and see the bright side of things. A girl that makes me a better person. – James Lafferty • What does being a girl have to do with it? There’s no time to think when you’re on the spot. – Bisco Hatori • What I know in my heart is that women and girls on the ground are powerful and that they are leaders. – Charlize Theron • When a girl cries over a guy,she really loves him.when a guy cries over a girl ,he will never love another girl like her. – Lil Wayne • When a girl is beautiful, she gets to pick – she never has to wait for someone to choose her. – Adriana Trigiani • When it’s all over I won’t miss the bruises he gave me to impress girls, or the occasional scar which will give me a story to tell my grandchildren, but I’ll definitely miss the pranks and the laughing and all the making fun of each other. I’ll miss the funky advice he gives me about everything – football, girls, video games, clothes. Most of all, I’ll miss having an older brother. – Skandar Keynes • When you were a little girl, Madam…..was this the woman you dreamed of becoming? – Andrew Sean Greer • Whenever I’m about to have sex with a girl, I play it smart and just automatically assume she has herpes; because that way I don’t have to tell her about my herpes. – Anthony Jeselnik • Whores are the most honest girls. They present the bill right away. – Alberto Giacometti • Why does a man take it for granted that a girl who flirts with him wants him to kiss her – when, nine times out of ten, she only wants him to want to kiss her? – Helen Rowland • Why is it that every time a girl says a guy is bothering her, it’s fluffed off with oh, he just likes you, as if that makes it okay? – Kelley Armstrong • Yet little by little, I was also becoming the girl who was learning to live with this, all of it, letting it weave together with everything else, the good and the bad, as life moved forward, because thats what life did, regardless of whether we were ready for it or not. – Donna Freitas • You and I both know there’s got to be some greater storyline for you than ‘girl gets heart broken, was sad forever’. I think a nice one would be ‘girl gets heart broken, was sad for a while but in her heartbreak she found freedom, friends, and the ability to look back and laugh at all she’d learned. She now lives her life on her own terms and still has fantastic hair.’ – Taylor Swift • You are the one girl that made me risk eveything for a future worth having. – Simone Elkeles • You don’t have to wait for anyone’s approval to do things. You don’t have to try to get a job and go through set steps before you start a career or start your life. That’s what I want young girls to know – you can do anything you want. Just start. – Petra Collins • You eventually get used to looking at girls picking their leotards out of their bums and that sort of stuff. – Adam Garcia • You know you love me. Xoxo, GossipGirl. – Cecily von Ziegesar • You know, honestly, if a girl can make me laugh, I’m pretty much sold. – Ryan Lochte • You may admire a girl’s curves on the first introduction, but the second meeting shows up new angles. – Mae West

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Official Website: Girl Quotes

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• A beautiful girl can make you dizzy, like you’ve been drinking Jack and Coke all morning. She can make you feel high full of the single greatest commodity known to man – promise. Promise of a better day. Promise of a greater hope. Promise of a new tomorrow. This particular aura can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl. In her smile, in her soul, the way she makes every rotten little thing about life seem like it’s going to be okay. – Michael Rapaport • A gifted small girl has explained that pins are a great means of saving life, “by not swallowing them. – Charles Edward Montague • A girl can wait for the right man to come along but in the meantime that still doesn’t mean she can’t have a wonderful time with all the wrong ones. – Cher • A girl conceived in China has to run an eerie kind of gauntlet if she is to survive. many parents will use the ultrasound technique. and, if it reveals. a girl, they’ll abort her. If it reveals the baby is a boy, they’ll celebrate. – Steven W. Mosher • A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous. – Coco Chanel • A girl with brains ought to do something with them besides think. – Anita Loos • A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other… maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever. – Dave Matthews • A liberal is a person who sees a fourteen-year-old girl performing sex acts onstage and wonders if she’s being paid minimum wage. – Irving Kristol • A toddling little girl is a centre of common feeling which makes the most dissimilar people understand each other. – George Eliot • A wise girl knows her limits, a smart girl knows that she has none. – Marilyn Monroe • Alas for those girls who’ve refused the truth: The sweetest tongue has the sharpest tooth. – Jack Zipes • All girls should have a poem written for them even if we have to turn this goddamn world upside down to do it. – Richard Brautigan • All little girls should be told they are pretty. – Marilyn Monroe • Always been a goal-oriented girl. it was both her strength and her weakness. She had a drive to completion that always gets things done, but it also made her inflexible, and stubborn. – Neal Shusterman • Always know that if you’re not happy with yourself, no one else can change that, no girl or guy, no amount of money; only yourself. – Shannon Leto • Always take a compliment, Caroline. Always take it for the way it was intended. You girls are always so quick to twist what others say. Simply say thank you and move on. – Alice Clayton • Any girl can be glamorous. All you have to do is stand still and look stupid. – Hedy Lamarr • Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves. – Albert Einstein • As Deborah Rhode describes, “When 1,100 Michigan elementary students were asked to describe what life would be like if they were the opposite sex, over 40 percent of the girls saw advantages to being male; they would have better jobs, higher incomes, and more respect. Ninety-five percent of the boys saw no advantage to being female, and a substantial number thought suicide would be preferable.” – Deborah Rhode • At a recent show, I looked out and I saw this girl crying in the audience and it really affected me. I wanted to stop the song and go and give her a hug. I should have, actually – I regret not doing that. – Elena Tonra • At the fourth grade level, girls at the same percentages of boys say they’re interested in careers in engineering or math or astrophysics, but by eighth grade that has dropped precipitously. – Chelsea Clinton

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Girl+', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_girl').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_girl img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Basically, anything a sexual predator might do to woo a small suburban girl, I was trying. – Lena Dunham • Be that strong girl that everyone knew would make it through the worst, be that fearless girl, the one who would dare to do anything, be that independent girl who didn’t need a man; be that girl who never backed down. – Taylor Swift • Before marriage, a girl has to make love to a man to hold him. After marriage, she has to hold him to make love to him. – Marilyn Monroe • Between the ages of fourteen and twenty-four, foreplay changes from being something that boys want to do and girls don’t, to something that women want and men can’t be bothered with. … The perfect match, if you ask me, is between the Cosmo woman and the fourteen-year old boy. – Nick Hornby • Big girls need big diamonds. – Elizabeth Taylor • Boys think girls are like books, If the cover doesn’t catch their eye they won’t bother to read what’s inside”. – Marilyn Monroe • Boys will be boys. And even that wouldn’t matter if only we could prevent girls from being girls. – Anne Frank • But I am a girl with a keen interest in having it all, and what follows are hopeful dispatches from the frontlines of that struggle. – Lena Dunham • But I’ve always been fascinated with that prettiest-girl-in-the-class person that I never was, getting inside her head and showing that she’s just as tormented and messed up as everybody else. – Cecily von Ziegesar • Byrd, the former Klu [sic] Klux Klan Kleagle, is taking a stand over states’ rights, or his rights over State, or some such. Whatever the reason, the sight of an old Klansman blocking a little colored girl from Birmingham from getting into her office contributed to the general retro vibe that hangs around the Democratic Party these days. – Mark Steyn

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend. Freedom is. – Camille Grammer • Due to the potent combination of my sexual recklessness and the slutty nature of some of the girls I have slept with, I have accumulated enough stories and anecdotes about abortion that they could name a Planned Parenthood clinic after me. – Tucker Max • Eating has always come up whenever and wherever. Maybe it’s because we’re girls, we have a lot of interest in eating. – Kim Hyo-yeon • Even today, well-brought-up English girls are taught by their mothers to boil all veggies for at least a month and a half, just in case one of the dinner guests turns up without his teeth. – Calvin Trillin • Every girl is a goddess. – Francesca Lia Block • Every girl likes feeling hot and sexy and beautiful and likes hearing it. – Hayden Panettiere • Every girl should use what Mother Nature gave her before Father Time takes it away. – Laurence J. Peter • Every girl wants to be the one girl that can change that guy – Lauren Conrad • Everyone fixes up their face if it’s not ideal, you know? That’s because of the race-mixing. For example, a Russian marries an Armenian. They have a kid, a cute girl, but she has her dad’s nose. She goes and files it down a little, and it’s all good. Ethnicities are mixing now, so there’s degeneration, and it didn’t used to be like that. Remember how many beautiful women there were in the 1950s and 1960s, without any surgery? And now, thanks to degeneration, we have this. – Valeria Lukyanova • Everything here is so weak, little girl. Everything breaks so easily. They want such simple things. – Neil Gaiman • Fun is fun but no girl wants to laugh all of the time. – Anita Loos • Girl with the burning golden eyes, And red-bird song, and snowy throat: I bring you gold and silver moons, And diamond stars, and mists that float. I bring you moons and snowy clouds, I bring you prarie skies to-night To feebly praise your golden eyes And red-bird song, and throat so white. ~Vachel Lindsay “To Gloriana” God wrote His loveliest poem on the day He made the first silver poplar tree, And set it high upon a pale-gold hill For all the new enchanted earth to see. – Grace Noll Crowell • Girl, when he gives you kisses twain, use one, and let the other stay; And hoard it, for moons die, red fades, and you may need a kiss—some day. – Ridgely Torrence • Girls are like exotic birds. They are pretty to look at but hard to catch. – Howie Dorough • Girls are so queer you never know what they mean. They say No when they mean Yes, and drive a man out of his wits for the fun of it. – Louisa May Alcott • Girls are trained to say, ‘I wrote this, but it’s probably really stupid.’ Well, no, you wouldn’t write a novel if you thought it was really stupid. Men are much more comfortable going, ‘I wrote this book because I have a unique perspective that the world needs to hear.’ Girls are taught from the age of seven that if you get a compliment, you don’t go, ‘Thank you’, you go, ‘No, you’re insane. – Lena Dunham • Girls aren’t beautiful, they’re pretty. Beautiful is too heavy a word to assign to a girl. Women are beautiful because their faces show that they know they have lost something and picked up something else. – Henry Rollins • Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, and flare up bodily, wings and all. What then? Who’s sorry for a gnat or girl? – Elizabeth Barrett Browning • Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also. – John Steinbeck • Girls have an unfair advantage over men: if they can’t get what they want by being smart, they can get it by being dumb. – Yul Brynner • Girls like to be played with and rumpled a little too sometimes. – Oliver Goldsmith • Girls like to see girls dressed up like princesses occasionally. – Nelly • Girls see these defined roles they’re supposed to follow in life, but when I was a young child, my parents told me I could be anything. – Joan Jett • Girls should go on thinking that there is a world out there and that it is theirs for the taking. – Anne Bancroft • Girls are like buses, miss one, next fifteen, one comin. – Gucci Mane • Girls. You never know what they’re going to think. – J. D. Salinger • Give me a girl at an impressionable age and she is mine for life. – Muriel Spark • God forbid you be an ugly girl, ‘course too pretty is also your doom, ’cause everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room. – Ani DiFranco • Growing up, I wanted desperately to please, to be a good girl. – Claire Danes • Hannah expected this to make her sob even more, but instead she found her tears drying up and her tummy growing warm. How dare they? How dare they do this to little girls? She understood now why her parents go so angry when they saw the result of bombers in the white hot streets of the Middle East, why men and women wailed in anger as well as grief as they lifted the limp bodies of children from the rubble. How dare they? No, she wasn’t going to die like this, wrapped up like some helpless baby. – Stephen M. Irwin • Harder is Better! Post work out! Foot in the Ice Bath. A girl has to make a living! #hardcandytoronto. #addictedtosweat – Madonna Ciccone • Have you heard about the morning after pill, or what I like to call breakfast in bed. Well have you heard about how some of the girls who have taken have died a few days later? Talk about two birds, looks like I will be going to the game this weekend boys. – Daniel Tosh • Honestly if a girl’s wearing, like, a Gucci shirt with a Gucci belt and a purse and a visor, that’s not cute at all. You can’t get away with that – with me – but you can always sprinkle it in there with your own stuff and it’s all good. – Kreayshawn • How long do small girls play with their dolls? As long as they are not married and do not live with their husbands. After marriage they put the dolls away in a box. What further need is there of worshipping the image after the vision of God? – Ramakrishna • How long is a girl a child? She is a child, and then one morning you wake up she’s a woman, and a dozen different people of whom you recognize none. – Louis L’Amour • I abstain from any kind of release for six weeks before a fight, no self-pleasure, nothing. Even in my dreams, I’ll be about to have sex with a beautiful girl and I’ll say, ‘Sorry darling, I’m fighting in a few weeks.’ That’s control, bro, when you’re turning down a hot chick in your subconscious. – David Haye • I always see guys get all, like, flexed on other people, trying to show off that they are tough, and it is just, like, no girl really likes that. – Kreayshawn • I always tell my mom I don’t have regular problems. I have problems, like, what type of girl is going to say they’re pregnant by me today? Those are the types of issues I have. – Fetty Wap • I am an artsy girl. It’s no secret that I am artsy, you know. – Kreayshawn • I avoid the young adult section altogether if possible, although it’s sometimes fun to catch a girl lying on the floor, reading “Gossip Girl.” – Cecily von Ziegesar • I basically became a cheerleader because I had a very strict mom. That was my way of being a bad girl. – Sandra Bullock • I could not lose unless I was caught in bed with a dead girl or a live boy. – Edwin Edwards • I did find a wonderful girl last year, but the photographs that we did were more about motorcars. – Helmut Newton • I don’t get it when girls say ‘I’m fine’ but don’t mean it. – Conor Maynard • I don’t like that sort of school… where the bright childish imagination is utterly discouraged… where I have never seen among the pupils, whether boys or girls, anything but little parrots and small calculating machines. – Charles Dickens • I don’t want to be one of those people who falls out of cabs drunk. But I don’t want to be known as some boring girl who just sits at home and doesn’t do anything. – Pixie Lott • I don’t want to be remembered as the girl who was shot. I want to be remembered as the girl who stood up. – Malala Yousafzai • I don’t want to be stinky poo poo girl, I want to be happy flower child. – Drew Barrymore • I doubt whether any girl would be satisfied with her lover’s mind if she knew the whole of it. – Anthony Trollope • I get some letters from girls that if their mothers knew what they were writing me in these letters, they’d get their butts whipped. – Rick James • I got started dancing because I knew it was one way to meet girls. – Gene Kelly • I hate dainty minds,’ answered Marjorie. ‘But a girl has to be dainty in person. If she looks like a million dollars she can talk about Russia, ping-pong, or the League of Nations and get away with it. – F. Scott Fitzgerald • I have never been a material girl. My father always told me never to love anything that cannot love you back. – Imelda Marcos • I have often been downcast, but never in despair; I regard our hiding as a dangerous adventure, romantic and interesting at the same time. In my diary I treat all the privations as amusing. I have made up my mind now to lead a different life from other girls and, later on, different from ordinary housewives. My start has been so very full of interest, and that is the sole reason why I have to laugh at the humorous side of the most dangerous moments. – Anne Frank • I have the same goal I’ve had ever since I was a girl: I want to rule the world. – Madonna Ciccone • I just don’t want to cozy up to the guy whose girl I have every intention of stealing. – Aprilynne Pike • I knew the men were probably terrible people who whistled at pretty girls, treated their wives like servants, and voted for Nixon every chance they got, but as far as I was concerned, they beat the hell out of a Volvo-load of liberals for hard work and good times. – James Crumley • I like Dancing of Indian girls more than my parents’ prayers . Because they dance with love and passion . But my parents just say their prayers because they got used to it . – Ali Shariati • I like the idea that I can talk to any teenage girls. You know, in a language that makes sense to them. – Louise Rennison • I like women, especially beautiful ones. If they have a good face and figure, I would much prefer to watch them being murdered than an ugly girl or man. – Dario Argento • I love a girl with a sense of humor. Someone who can make me laugh and that I can get along with and talk with and who is just sweet overall, inside and out. – Logan Henderson • I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels. – Maya Angelou • I love you girl…to the moon and back. – Abbi Glines • I loved when my boyfriends would call me their Amazon girl. – Patti Hansen • I may be a man, but I fight like a girl. – Andy Cohen • I met eight great members. I really don’t think that anyone else could get along like how our nine girls get along so well. Because we’re girls, there can be a lot of jealousy going on. Thinking back on it now, I think I’m a kid who received a lot of good fortune. – Kim Hyo-yeon • I might get some more animals or something, but I’m done with the kids. I got a boy, I got a girl, and I got an older boy. I’m straight. – Jada Pinkett Smith • I never cheat unless you count the girls I cheat on – Drake • I pray to God I get inside a girl’s head one day and see what in the WORLD they are thinking. – A. J. McLean • I really can’t deny it, I am who I am. I’m pretty normal. I’m not that smooth type of girl. I run into things, I trip, I spill food. I say stupid things… I really don’t have it all together. – Katie Holmes • I think girls are the most beautiful when they become a mother. – Minzy • I think it’s important to make all women feel like they’re princesses, because every girl is a princess. I’m serious. – Justin Bieber • I try to not be too hard on myself regarding my diet. I’ve always been a workout-to-eat kind of a girl. I like to eat, to say the least. – Jennie Finch • I want girls to feel the confidence you get from being smart. – Danica McKellar • I want to make sure I’m with a girl that’s a good kisser, and that when I wake up, I have coffee and a cigarette. That’s all I really want out of life. That, and world domination. – Ryan Adams • I wanted to give young girls something positive to look up to…I wanted to give them their Blizzard of Aahhhs, Ski Movie or High Life, but done in a way that also shows the elegance, grace, community and style that is unique to women in the mountains. – Lynsey Dyer • I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty… you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. – J. D. Salinger • I was coming off of The O.C. and had very little interest in doing another teen drama. And then I got sent theGossip Girl book series, and I was like, ‘I might not be ready to leave high school after all.’ – Josh Schwartz • I was not a Southern California girl. I hated having my photograph taken. I felt shy and embarrassed around famous people. – Allegra Huston • I was so thrilled that I was having a girl, because I just am so girly myself, but I think the teenage years are going to be very interesting. – Sarah Dessen • I wish my mother had left me something about how she felt growing up. I wish my grandmother had done the same. I wanted my girls to know me. – Carol Burnett • I wrote the story myself. It’s all about a girl who lost her reputation but never missed it. – Mae West • I’m convinced that a world in which girls are educated is a safer, more stable, more prosperous place. – Barack Obama • I’m not a vomit in the club kinda girl. – Lady Gaga • I’d never really babysat. I feel like I’m Blair, or ‘Gossip Girl.’ A teenager, basically – and now suddenly I’m a mom? – Cecily von Ziegesar • If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late? Nobody. – J. D. Salinger • If a girl thinks she isn’t beautiful, I’m here to prove her wrong. – Kendall Schmidt • If I get married one day, or meet the girl I like, I’ll prepare 100m to 150m of candles, or maybe red carpet – Lee Donghae • If I had to give a definition of capitalism I would say: the process whereby American girls turn into American women. – Christopher Hampton • If I were a girl, I’d despair. The supply of good women far exceeds that of the men who deserve them. – Robert Graves • If the media is sending girls the message that their value lies in their bodies, this can only leave them feeling disempowered and distract them from making a difference and becoming leaders. – Jennifer Siebel Newsom • If we are to maximize the potential of young girls everywhere, we have to think, in this instance, literally outside the box. And the first step of doing that is to see the box for what it really is: A perfect, pretty PROBLEM. – David Trumble • If we’re going to reach a broader audience, we have to stop thinking about that audience strictly in terms of teenage boys or even teenage girls. We need to think about things that are relevant to normal humans and not just the geeks we used to be. – Warren Spector • If you can educate girls, you can change the world. – Cathie Black • If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything. – Marilyn Monroe • If you invest in a girl or a woman, you are investing in everybody else. – Melinda Gates • I’m a cereal girl. I have always loved my cereal ever since I was a kid. – Rachel Stevens • I’m a Mommy’s Girl – the strongest influence in my young life was my mom. – Susie Bright • I’m a role model for lots of young girls. – Jennie Finch • I’m down to bleach my eyebrows again. I tell you what, though – that didn’t go down well with my boyfriend. Girls love it. Guys, not so into it. – Florence Welch • I’m into the girls fancying me and stuff, mad for it. – Liam Gallagher • I’m no expert on girls, but when one tries to pinch you four times, I’m pretty sure that’s flirting – Ransom Riggs • I’m not God but if I were God, ¾ of you would be girls, and the rest would be pizza and beer. – Axl Rose • I’m still chasing girls. I don’t remember what for, but I’m still chasing them. – Joe E. Lewis • I’m the girl who still believes prince charming exists somewhere out there. – Taylor Swift • I’m tired of playing little girls. I’m a woman now. I can’t run around forever being the Little Miss Fix It who bursts into song. I want to get out of Hollywood and get a fresh approach. – Deanna Durbin • I’m usually the sparkle in a closet full of conservative clothes. Either that or my customer has a closet full of my clothes and a few conservative suits from Calvin Klein. I think you’ve got to give a girl what’s missing from her closet. If something jazzy, tacky or sexy is what’s missing, I provide it. – Betsey Johnson • I’m weirdly flexible, so when I dance, I dance like a 17-year-old girl. – Michael Angarano • In America every woman has her set of girl-friends; some are cousins, the rest are gained at school. These form a permanent committee who sit on each other’s affairs, who come out together, marry and divorce together, and who end as those groups of bustling, heartless well-informed club-women who govern society. Against them the Couple of Ehepaar is helpless and Man in their eyes but a biological interlude. – Cyril Connolly • In my 20s I was going round seeing agents who were patronising because I was fat and a girl, which was a double whammy. I knew what it was to feel out-of-the-loop. – Victoria Wood • In school, I was the quietest girl ever! I had a lot of trouble in school. Kids were mean to me. – Cher Lloyd • Independent minded girls that are naked sounds like a great start to something. – Joshua Homme • It had never once occurred to me that the paper I wanted to work for would not want me. Certainly I never expected to be rejected solely because I was a girl! – Kathryn Tucker Windham • It’s all up to you, girls. You have to be strong. These are the days of post-women’s liberation. You have grown up by now and you have to take care of yourself. No one’s going to help you. – Kathy Acker • It’s like — I don’t know, sometimes it’s like chasing a pretty girl on the beach. And things I never thought I could do… I can do. – Ryan Adams • It’s not beauty but fine qualities, my girl, that keep a husband. – Euripides • It’s the good girls who keep diaries; the bad girls never have the time. – Tallulah Bankhead • It’s tough now to meet a girl who wants to hang out with you because she likes your personality – who hasn’t seen you on TV and is like, ‘Hey!’ – Shaun White • Ive always loved when girls carry their wallets as a clutch instead of a bag. – Alexander Wang • I’ve been looking for a girl like you – not you, but a girl like you. – Groucho Marx • Just watching a girl can give me the best reason to smile. Girls are something very special and you got to treat them that way. That’s why I always say don’t stare right at a chick. She’ll begin to fidget, wondering if her hair’s messed up or if her make-up is smeared. It’s kind of like going to an art gallery to see beautiful paintings. If you look at a painting just the right way, you get the most out of it! – Michael Jackson • Kissing babies and hugging fat girls. – Dave Bautista • Like every other girl in the world, my most embarrassing moment had to do with a guy completely turning me down. His loss! – Kelly Clarkson • Little girls, like butterflies, need no excuse. – Robert A. Heinlein • Many a man in love with a dimple makes the mistake of marrying the whole girl. – Stephen Leacock • Modern art is what happens when painters stop looking at girls and persuade themselves that they have a better idea. – John Ciardi • Modesty is invisibility… Never forget it. To be seen – to be seen – is to be… penetrated. What you must be girls, is impenetrable. – Margaret Atwood • More men than women like ‘Strangers With Candy’. Pretty girls don’t like the show. They don’t like to see an ugly lady. – Amy Sedaris • More than anything, acting helped me discover who I’m not. I’ve learned that I’m a girly girl, but not a prissy girl. – Debby Ryan • My mother was my Girl Scout leader, and George’s mother was his Cub Scout leader. In fact, that’s when some say her hair turned white. – Laura Bush • My real dream is to have a whole, like, buy a whole piece of land. Imagine, like, a long driveway. Like, a cul de sac-type street, with maybe, like, seven houses. Me be right here. Have my mom be able to be right here. My brother over here. My girl’s grandmother and family right here. Friends over there. That’s my real dream. – J. Cole • Nature makes boys and girls lovely to look upon so they can be tolerated until they acquire some sense. – M. William Phelps • Never call a girl fat, even if you’re joking. – Demi Lovato • Never love someone whom you think you need to mend – or who makes you feel like you should be mended. There are boys out there who look for shining girls; they will stand next to you and say quiet things in your ear that only you can hear and that will slowly drain the joy out of your heart. The books about vampires are true, baby. Drive a stake through their hearts and run away. – Caitlin Moran • No girl wants a secretly gay boyfriend, every dude wants a secretly gay girlfriend. – Joe Rogan • No legal ceremony–no election of the woman–no penalty for the perfidy of the man–no law to compel him to do his duty, no compensation for the poor woman who is turned adrift like the girl of the street, penniless, to sell herself on the best possible terms. This is Divine marriage, or Moses and the Bible lie; and this is Bible divorce–putting away! – Victoria Woodhull • No one ever told me I was pretty when I was a little girl. All little girls should be told they’re pretty, even if they aren’t. – Marilyn Monroe • No one knows how it is that with one glance a boy can break through into a girl’s heart. – Nancy Thayer • Nobody loves a fat girl, but oh how a fat girl can love. – Jim Croce • Only one girl has ever really wrapped my stomach into pretzels. She didn’t give me butterflies. She gave me pterodactyls I’m talking terrible internal bruising and the first time I kissed her was like the first time I saw fireworks, which was like the sky first kissing me in the eyeballs – George Watsky • Over 270 girls were kidnapped for going to school in Nigeria! They are still missing! I’M outraged and you should be too!! I’m supporting www.globalfundforwomen.org Join me and take a stand!!!!!!! #Bringbackourgirls #revolutionoflove – Madonna Ciccone • Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. – Albert Einstein • Put yourself in Hamlet’s shoes. Suppose you were a prince, and you came back from college to discover that your uncle had murdered your father and married your mother, and you fell in love with a beautiful girl and mistakenly murdered her father, and then she went crazy and drowned herself. What would you do? Go back for a masters? – Art Buchwald • Sex is something I really don’t understand too hot. You never know where the hell you are. I keep making up these sex rules for myself, and then I break them right away. Last year I made a rule that I was going to quit horsing around with girls that, deep down, gave me a pain in the ass. I broke it, though, the same week I made it – the same night, as a matter of fact. – J. D. Salinger • She was a natural blonde, with delicate hands and feet, and in her youthful photographs one saw a girl with mocking eyes and a tragic smile, the course of whose life would conspire in time to transpose that pair of adjectives. – Michael Chabon • She’s the wild, feline, untamed part of you, your sexual alter ego and the opposite of the “good girl” or “little lady.” Some of us know her better than others do, but I would venture to guess that your erotic creature hasn’t seen nearly enough light of day. – Sheila Kelley • She’s the kind of girl who climbed the ladder of success wrong by wrong. – Mae West • Some guys like to undermine a girl’s self-esteem with little verbal jabs. Eventually it all adds up. One bee sting doesn’t hurt a horse, but enough bee stings can kill a horse. – Oliver Gaspirtz • Sometimes I see really skinny girls. They may look great, but…they’re not happy. Have a cupcake. – Kathy Wakile • Straight to the top, rooftop glows. With a hand full of girls and they all so foreign. Brain so poisoned, rainbows flowing. – The Weeknd • Take away the Big Bang and what has God done? Burned a bush and got a girl pregnant. Great, he’s a high school junior. – Stephen Colbert • The American girl makes a servant of her husband and then finds him contemptible for being a servant – John Steinbeck • The best accessories a girl can have are her closest friends. – Paris Hilton • The best thing a girl can be is a good wife and mother. It is a girl’s highest calling. I hope I am ready. – Nancy E. Turner • The cuter girls kinda went off from the older women because we’re younger, and we’re cuter, we’ve got better bodies, and for some reason that’s like a huge issue with older people. – Heidi • The emotional, sexual, and psychological stereotyping of females begins when the doctor says, ‘It’s a girl.’ – Shirley Chisholm • The girl has a funny way of romanticizing things. – Karen Russell • The girls show more skin these days, but I think, generally, they behave the same way as when I was growing up. – Cecily von Ziegesar • The jamaat was an almost silly mish-mash of people: Rude Dawud’s pork-pie hat poking up here, a jalab-and-turban there, Jehangir’s big Mohawk rising from a sea of kufis, Amazing Ayyub still with no shirt, girls scattered throughout – some in hejab, some not and Rabeya in punk-patched burqa doing her thing. But in its randomness it was gorgeous, reflecting an Islam I felt could not happen anywhere else … If Islam was to be saved, it would be saved by the crazy ones: Jehangir and Rabeya and Fasiq and Dawud and Ayyub and even Umar. – Michael Muhammad Knight • There are many facts within fiction. This captivating story provides invaluable insights into the childhood of a girl who has Asperger’s syndrome. Fiction allows the author to explore different perspectives and add poignancy to the experiences of sensory sensitivity and being bullied and teased of someone who has Asperger’s syndrome. The title Delightfully Different describes Asperger’s syndrome but also the qualities of this novel. – Tony Attwood • There are no good girls gone wrong – just bad girls found out. – Mae West • There are so many girls, and so few princes. – Liza Minnelli • There are two things that are more difficult than making an after-dinner speech: climbing a wall which is leaning toward you and kissing a girl who is leaning away from you. – Winston Churchill • There is a small window of opportunity for freckled girls to tan. – Jeffrey Eugenides • There is no shortage of evidence that when we support the fundamental freedoms of women and girls, they are able to realize their full potential to engage in, contribute to and benefit from sustainable development. In doing so, we will all reap the benefits; in our homes, throughout our communities, and across our nations. – Sam Kutesa • There is not one female comic who was beautiful as a little girl. – Joan Rivers • There was a little girl, When she was good, she was very, very good. But when she was bad, she was horrid. – Jun Mochizuki • There was the time I bought three cars in the span of three or four weeks. It was crazy; it wasn’t greedy. It was mine, my girl’s, my mom’s. I got Benzes for my ladies. But I felt crazy. You have to understand I come from a world where we’re very modest. But that’s not greedy. That’s nice, right? – J. Cole • There were about ten years of trying, failing, trying again, suffering rejection, etc. My first published book, ‘Story of a Girl’, was the fourth book I wrote. – Sara Zarr • There’s no point for me to party. I have a girl that I love. I don’t need that. – Ryan Cabrera • There’s only a very small representation of girls among you. Too little. Women have much to tell us in today’s society. Sometimes we are too machistas and we don’t allow enough space to women. But women can see things from a different angle to us, with a different eye. Women are able to pose questions we men are unable to understand. Look out for this fact: she is the only one who has put a question for which there is no answer. She couldn’t put it into words but expressed it with tears. – Pope Francis • These Jews who run things, who are producing this mental illness ¬-teenage suicide…all these Jewish sicknesses…that’s nothing new. The Talmud’s full of things like sex with boys and girls. – David Duke • This attitude means you haven’t met a girl worthy of your attention. You’ll want to get caught if the right girl comes along. – Simone Elkeles • This is why I can’t be with Levi. Because I’m the kind of girl who fantasizes about being trapped in a library overnight-and Levi can’t even read. – Rainbow Rowell • This was how the modern working girl behaved. She didn’t hide her femininity or apologize for it, as they did in the old days. She flaunted it and, having been given more than any woman before her, demanded even more than that. – J. Courtney Sullivan • This-this was what made life: a moment of quiet, the water falling in the fountain, the girl’s voice. . . a moment of captured beauty. Those who are truly wise will never permit such moments to escape. – Louis L’Amour • To find out a girl’s faults, praise her to her girlfriends. – Benjamin Franklin • Today’s girls are tomorrow’s women – and leaders. – Isabel Allende • Too many girls follow the line of least resistance, but a good line is hard to resist. – Mae West • Wait until France gets a hard shot in the nose. Wait until France reacts with some nasty work. They’ll get a golf-clap from the chattering class over here and a you-go-girl from Red America. France could nuke an Algerian terrorist camp and the rest of the world would tut-tut for a day, then ask if the missiles France used were for sale. And of course the answer would be oui. – James Lileks • We are living in a material world and I’m a material girl. – Madonna Ciccone • We do not suffer by accident. It does not often happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in love with only a few days before. – Elizabeth Bennett • We had no irony when it came to girls, though. There was just no time to develop it. One moment they weren’t there, not in any form that interested us, anyway, and the next you couldn’t miss them; they were everywhere, all over the place. One moment you wanted to clonk them on the head for being your sister, or someone else’s sister, and the next you wanted to….actually, we didn’t know what we wanted next, but it was something. Almost overnight, all these sisters (there was no other kind of girl, not yet)had become interesting, disturbing, even. – Nick Hornby • We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us… and we drown. – T. S. Eliot • We must not close our eyes to the fact that there are conspiring men who would pollute young boys, and girls of corresponding age, for sake of increasing profits. – David O. McKay • We’re every age at once and tucked inside ourselves like Russian nesting dolls. My mother is an 8 year old girl. My grandson is a 74 year old retiree whose kidneys just failed. And that’s the glue between me and you. That’s the screws and nails. We live in a house made of each other and if that sounds strange that’s because it is. – George Watsky • Well Stephanie, I’d like to thank you for giving me such a kind Christmas gift, but unfortunately I didn’t get you any gifts. But then again, what can you get for the girl whose had everyone? – Chris Jericho • Well, we’re living in a material world, and I’m a material girl… or boy. – Adam Sandler • What are you two doing flirting with this nerd? I told you, you are supposed to be in charge of the 50 dancing girls I had set up for Miz’s celebration. – Alex Riley • What better job is there for a 17-year-old girl than being in a pop group? – Susan Ann Sulley • What do I like in a girl? I like a girl that likes me, a girl that knows how to smile and see the bright side of things. A girl that makes me a better person. – James Lafferty • What does being a girl have to do with it? There’s no time to think when you’re on the spot. – Bisco Hatori • What I know in my heart is that women and girls on the ground are powerful and that they are leaders. – Charlize Theron • When a girl cries over a guy,she really loves him.when a guy cries over a girl ,he will never love another girl like her. – Lil Wayne • When a girl is beautiful, she gets to pick – she never has to wait for someone to choose her. – Adriana Trigiani • When it’s all over I won’t miss the bruises he gave me to impress girls, or the occasional scar which will give me a story to tell my grandchildren, but I’ll definitely miss the pranks and the laughing and all the making fun of each other. I’ll miss the funky advice he gives me about everything – football, girls, video games, clothes. Most of all, I’ll miss having an older brother. – Skandar Keynes • When you were a little girl, Madam…..was this the woman you dreamed of becoming? – Andrew Sean Greer • Whenever I’m about to have sex with a girl, I play it smart and just automatically assume she has herpes; because that way I don’t have to tell her about my herpes. – Anthony Jeselnik • Whores are the most honest girls. They present the bill right away. – Alberto Giacometti • Why does a man take it for granted that a girl who flirts with him wants him to kiss her – when, nine times out of ten, she only wants him to want to kiss her? – Helen Rowland • Why is it that every time a girl says a guy is bothering her, it’s fluffed off with oh, he just likes you, as if that makes it okay? – Kelley Armstrong • Yet little by little, I was also becoming the girl who was learning to live with this, all of it, letting it weave together with everything else, the good and the bad, as life moved forward, because thats what life did, regardless of whether we were ready for it or not. – Donna Freitas • You and I both know there’s got to be some greater storyline for you than ‘girl gets heart broken, was sad forever’. I think a nice one would be ‘girl gets heart broken, was sad for a while but in her heartbreak she found freedom, friends, and the ability to look back and laugh at all she’d learned. She now lives her life on her own terms and still has fantastic hair.’ – Taylor Swift • You are the one girl that made me risk eveything for a future worth having. – Simone Elkeles • You don’t have to wait for anyone’s approval to do things. You don’t have to try to get a job and go through set steps before you start a career or start your life. That’s what I want young girls to know – you can do anything you want. Just start. – Petra Collins • You eventually get used to looking at girls picking their leotards out of their bums and that sort of stuff. – Adam Garcia • You know you love me. Xoxo, GossipGirl. – Cecily von Ziegesar • You know, honestly, if a girl can make me laugh, I’m pretty much sold. – Ryan Lochte • You may admire a girl’s curves on the first introduction, but the second meeting shows up new angles. – Mae West

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