1811 Ave Quotes & Sayings

Never coming back here, she thought.
With a groan, she levered herself into a sitting position and discovered a painful crick in her neck. Never ever. She launched herself off the bed and limped over to the door and put here eye to the viewer, was treated to a fish-eye view of a small, dapper, well-dressed man holding a bunch of white roses.
Okay. Man with flowers. Carey looked around the room. The windows opened on short tethers so guests couldn't throw furniture or each other out into the street, and she was too high to jump anyway. She looked around the room again, looking for possible weapons. There was a rickety-looking chair by the desk in the corner, but it would probably fall to bits even before she hit anyone with it. She looked through the viewer. The little man knocked again. Not urgently, not in an official we-have-come-to-take-you-to-the-gulag kind of way, but in the manner of a gentleman visiting his lady friend with a nice bunch of roses. — Dave Hutchinson

Hey, princess," he called, making me stop on the bottom step of the porch. "I give it two weeks." I shouldn't have turned around. I knew it was a bad idea. But I couldn't stop myself. "Two weeks for what?" He smiled, shaking his head and I knew I was in for it. "Until I fuck you up and down the road and through the floor. — Jessica Gadziala

I will be capable of loving, regardless of whether I am loved in return,
Of giving, when I have nothing,
Of working happily, even in the midst of difficulties,
Of holding out my hand, even when utterly alone and abandoned,
Of drying my tears, even while I weep,
Of believing, even when no one believes in me. — Paulo Coelho

Money can buy you knowledge, but not the wisdom to use it wisely. — Carew Papritz

Politics is a war of causes; a joust of principles. Government is too serious a matter to admit of meaningless courtesies. — Woodrow Wilson

Am I in love? - Yes, since I'm waiting." The other never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn't wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game: whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover's fatal identity is precisely: I am the one who waits. — Roland Barthes