Arla Quotes & Sayings

See a storm. See a bad spanking. See your boy is ugly. Decide your boy is the pope. Blow the pope away with an imaginary gun. Fellate your own fingers afterward. — Amanda Boyden

It's so very important as to what a child watches on TV. I feel for every parent that knows this, and cares, because they only have control of the child's viewing to a certain point. — Ruth Buzzi

Real wealth consists in things of utility and beauty, in things that help to create strong, beautiful bodies and surroundings inspiring to live in. — Emma Goldman

You'd think that, for a writer, you'd retire the same old phrase after the second use. — Nicole Williams

If I had a dollar for every million-dollar idea I've had, I'd be rich. — Greg Meyer

A family has its own rituals and its own superstitions. — Tea Obreht

A witch so bold would not flinch, no matter how harsh her punishment might be, though his wish was for her to feel every strike. — Arla Dahl

Remember, the enemy's gate is down. — Orson Scott Card

If you rest too long the weeds take the garden. — Jim Rohn

Her face burned with shame. Even wedded and sharing a bed, no man would touch a woman as he had touched her. — Arla Dahl

Now it was Arla's turn for astonishment. The Boy gave Perry a wide smile as he shook his hand. "You know the land you say? Up along the promontory? Good. Well, perhaps we should take you along. Do you have a horse?"
"No" Perry replied. "But I can ride."
"Arla is quite slight," the Boy said. "Perhaps she can ride the packhorse with our gear."
Arla gave a strangled gasp, and the Boy grinned at her. She realised he was joking, and breathed a sigh of relief. But she did not trust herself to speak. What did Branguin think he was doing? — J.J. Gadd

Respecting this planet we live on is a must. I heard an elder say, "When we begin to see what we call resources as relatives a healing can come." If we ruin this planet we live on where will we go? — Arla Williams

He guided her hands lower, over her own soft belly, her hips, the tops of her thighs. The oils they spread there left a sheen upon her flesh. A sheen that glistened as firelight and shadows caroused about the space.

His grasped her wrists and he urged her hands to her back once again.

"Clasp them," he said and she did. — Arla Dahl

Ambo opens his eyes and snaps to awareness - looking around wildly. He tries to move his hands, but he can't; his wrists have been bound to a wooden armchair. It takes him a moment to recognize it, to remember how he got there.

Arla is standing next to him, looking withered. Skin mottled and sweaty. Her eyes are swollen, and the cloth of the hijab has unraveled slightly. She whispers something to him, and it sounds like she's asking whether he's okay, but he can't make out the words.

He tells her to repeat herself. Louder this time, child.

'I said, what are we going to do? — Jonathan R. Miller