Alwang Quotes & Sayings

Nature is the one thing for which there is no substitute! One — Anne Frank

Did God dictate every single word [in Torah]? I don't know! — Dennis Prager

Prince is the ultimate performer. Prince is that dude that's going to get on stage by himself, if he need to, but hold you in the palm of his hand. Like, you can't take your eyes off the man when he's on stage, and he could just be sitting there playing his guitar. — Ne-Yo

You do that a lot." [ ... ] "Look sad. I hate it. Your mouth turns down. Your cheeks lose all color. You lose everything about you that makes you ... you. — Katie McGarry

So I'm figuring this is death. The little air left in the cockpit is toxic with marthenine, and I can only wonder how much of it I have breathed in. Is my throat becoming raw hamburger? My lungs, oatmeal? — Kea Alwang

My mom worked at [American] Vogue before I was born. She has always been fashion-minded. I grew up with original Yves Saint Laurent sketches on the wall in our house. A lot of that rubbed off on me. — Zachary Cole Smith

That's when I notice Cheryl and Mickey cuddled up on the couch. She's leaning on his shoulder, his arm around her, her leg across his lap. Cheryl throws glances at Kerry that say, "Look at me!" while Kerry shoots a "You go, girl!" smirk right back. I think of CK, how he and I often sat like that. Not because we were seconds from making out or wanted to look like a couple, but just out of a deep, platonic connection. My heart hits a higher notch on the ache-o-meter, my teeth sear into my bottom lip, and then something inside me snaps as cleanly as a crayon. — Kea Alwang

So is this being in love? I stay with the moment, waiting to find out, the space between us fluctuating with uncertainty. The only thing I am sure of is that each time his lips leave mine they are right back again. — Kea Alwang

Not to be the salt and light on earth is to lack understanding — Sunday Adelaja

Surround yourself with good and good will prevail. — Lorna Jackie Wilson

My milkshake brings all the gods to the yard. — Ben Aaronovitch

It started slow and hit her with the force of a sledgehammer, a cataclysm of such power she could only hold on to him and let it happen. He went rigid against her, rock hard in her arms, and he probably muttered "oh, shit" again, but she was beyond hearing, lost in some mind-scattered cloud of inexpressible pleasure. She fell back, limp, awash in shimmering sensation, and she knew an odd, faint trace of regret that he'd used a condom. She'd wanted all of him inside her, a total giving, and he'd withheld something. — Anne Stuart