Caracteristique Du Quotes & Sayings

He kissed me and then pulled back, looking very serious. "I love you, Mason."

There it was. The magical phrase. In every book I'd ever read it was accompanied by either tears or long descriptions of deep stirrings in the chest that sounded suspiciously like coronaries. This wasn't like that at all. It was just a simple statement of how things were. "I love you, too."

"Good," he said with an easy smile. — Nick Pageant

If I let my self care, all I feel is pain. — Stefan Salvatore Vampire Diaries

He knew how she would love. He had not loved her without gaining that instinctive knowledge of what capabilities were in her. Her soul would walk in glorious sunlight if any man was worthy, by his power of loving, to win back her love. — Elizabeth Gaskell

One opinion I share with the Dadaists is that art-making presupposes a revolutionary state of mind. Assimilating the practice into commodity or symbol of status nullifies its fundamental aims; therefore at the center of my own adherence to to this ranginess in taste is that it doesn't add up to membership in a private club. The differences choose me. There are so many approaches, so many innovative moves, so many oddly shaped ears in the field; may they never sing in unison. — C.D. Wright

I think once you're a mother, you kind of always see your kids as a baby anyway no matter how old they get. — Molly Ringwald

I don't dig parties. I rather sit at home with my friends and a good movie. — Emily VanCamp

THE MOCKINGBIRD All summer the mockingbird in his pearl-gray coat and his white-windowed wings flies from the hedge to the top of the pine and begins to sing, but it's neither lilting nor lovely, for he is the thief of other sounds - whistles and truck brakes and dry hinges plus all the songs of other birds in his neighborhood; mimicking and elaborating, he sings with humor and bravado, so I have to wait a long time for the softer voice of his own life to come through. He begins by giving up all his usual flutter and settling down on the pine's forelock then looking around as though to make sure he's alone; then he slaps each wing against his breast, where his heart is, and, copying nothing, begins easing into it as though it was not half so easy as rollicking, as though his subject now was his true self, which of course was as dark and secret as anyone else's, and it was too hard - perhaps you understand - to speak or to sing it to anything or anyone but the sky. — Mary Oliver

I think that women just have a primeval instinct to make soup, which they will try to foist on anybody who looks like a likely candidate. — Dylan Moran

Don't you think it's a small mystery that birds can twitter so loudly that they can hear each other's song from several miles away? Those tiny bundles are like living flutes, playing non-stop on themselves. — Jostein Gaarder

The refractory pupil of Socrates, Aristippus the Cyrene, who believed happiness to be the sum of particular pleasures and golden moments and not, as Epicurus, a prolonged intermediary state between ecstasy and pain. — Cyril Connolly