Girl In White Cotton Quotes & Sayings

He's gawking at me when I open the door.
"Damn girl," he says, looking me over, "what the hell are you trying to do to me?"
I look down at myself, still trying to wake up the rest of the way and realize I'm in those tiny cotton white shorts and varsity tee with no bra on underneath. Oh my God, my nipples are like beacons shining through my shirt! I cross my arms over my chest and try not to look at him i the eyes when he helps himself the rest of the way inside.
"I was going to tell you to get dressed," he goes on, grinning as he walks into the room carrying his bags and the guitar, "but really, you can go just like that if you want."
I shake my head, hiding the smile creeping up on my face. — J.A. Redmerski

Life is a sum made up of small parts, Kacie. Some are good; some are bad. You and the girls are definitely one of the good. The best good there is and I'll fight like hell to keep you here. — Beth Ehemann

Chatter: any conversation with someone who has not suffered. — Emil Cioran

Individuals will speak their minds, which I think is healthy. — William P. Leahy

Anyone who doesn't respect a teacher or cherish a student may be clever, but has gone astray. — Lao-Tzu

Angels are quite ample cause to cry ... — Nick Gordon

Arms and laws do not flourish together. — Julius Caesar

higher concentration of dopamine appears to lower skepticism and result in greater vulnerability to pattern detection; an — Nassim Nicholas Taleb

Why do humans need answers? Partly I suppose because without one, almost any one, the question itself soon sounds silly. — Jeanette Winterson

Samasource's largest clients are technology companies such as Microsoft, Google, Getty Images, and TripAdvisor, which contract with my company rather than a traditional outsourcing company in order to participate in 'impact sourcing' - conscious efforts to reduce poverty by moving money into places that need it. — Leila Janah

Make this man a saint now, OK? — Elton John

My life was hurrying, racing tragically toward its end. And yet at the same time it was dripping so slowly, so very slowly now, hour by hour, minute by minute. One always has to wait until the sugar melts, the memory dies, the wound scars over, the sun sets, the unhappiness lifts and fades away. — Simone De Beauvoir