Is Fantasy Brown Quotes & Sayings

He was by far the fiercest, most ruggedly handsome, yet, formidable man she had ever laid eyes on. She couldn't stop staring at him. He had dark brown hair which skimmed his shoulders, a short-haired beard around his lips and chin, and gorgeous greenish-blue eyes that reminded her of the sea. There was something dangerously wicked about the look of his face, and she half expected him to yell for his men to batten down the hatches or swab the deck. — Madison Thorne Grey

I heard your whispered fantasies so clear Softly told in my ear
I opened my eyes you weren't there
So real my dream, I was so aware
But we'll meet again so certainly
In our whispered fantasy — Astrid Brown

The only things worth seeing are beyond what you can actually see. — Joseph Brown

I'm not going to die glamorously. I'll probably be eating a Twinkie, take a bite, and fall over. — Billy Corgan

Second chances do come your way. Like trains, they arrive and depart regularly. Recognizing the ones that matter is the trick. — Jill A. Davis

Holy shit! Can we say unstable? Was I the only sane one around here? Well, I guess that really wasn't setting the standard very high. -Ember, Darkness Of Light — Stacey Marie Brown

He moved toward her and cupped her face in his hands. "You are so beautiful that sometimes it hurts just to look at you. Your eyes are a thousand shades of brown and gold with hints of blue and green." He touched her cheekbones with thumbs. "Your freckles are like the girl-next-door fantasy brought to life. Your mouth is sexy and soft and when you smile, the world seems like a better place. Swear you'll never change anything. Swear it. — Susan Mallery

FCU's PLS discovery has quickly become one of the most exciting stories in the uranium sector. — David Talbot

Evil does not listen to reason. — Grady P. Brown

Just about the only interruption we don't object to is applause. — Sydney J. Harris

I find that arduous physical labor can jump-start my thought process. — Jane Fonda

Is he evil?" the dog asked, an eager gleam in his wide brown eyes. "If he's evil, I'd be happy to eat him for you. — Deborah Blake

...words can serve as a bomb or a balm..." -Harmony — Megan McCafferty

Brown eyes, so dark they appeared black, met hers and struggled to focus.
His hand moved under hers, turning so he could curl his fingers around hers.
"This had better not be another fucking fantasy," he muttered. — Dianne Duvall

A sinfully gorgeous man locked his brown eyes with mine. — Nicole Gulla

In my fantasy I was always the savior. I would come to Peanuts land and save everybody. Charlie Brown would fall madly in love with me. Peppermint Patty was so jealous. — Alicia Witt

Poor innocent little lambie," God said, shaking his head. "Telion. I made you people in My Image. I swear, and drink, and have sex. I even burp and fart, but I damn sure don't snore. You seriously think I mind if people I made to reflect me act like I do? Not hardly. And there's another bone I have to pick with you lot. Know why I don't mess with Amrontil for the most part? I'll tell you. You sorry fuckers forgot how to talk to Me and you completely fucking rejected My gifts. You grovel and beg and plead like you're talking to My asshole Brother Gabriel. Makes Me want to barf. Come on, people, get a backbone! And fucking get laid, would you? Uptight repressed bastards. — Marie Brown

I squeezed her hand. "He's not coming back, Carlee"
When I said her name, her whole body stiffened, her eyes opening wide and clearing, as though a veil over them had lifted. "Carlee," she whispered.
I nodded and waited for her to freak out, to start screaming or crying, bracing myself and getting ready to hug her or carry her back to the village, whatever it took. For a few impossibly long moments she didn't say anything, didn't move, and I wondered if the shock had broken her brain. Then her brown eyes locked on mine again, narrowing into slits.
"I'm gonna kill that effing creep."
I laughed, relief flooding through me, and threw my arms around her neck.
"No, seriously. I'm going to kill him! I can't believe I bought his stupid lines! I don't care how pretty he was, I mean, have you seen what I'm wearing?"
Laughing, I nodded into her shoulder. "So not the style."
"I know, right? I look like an extra in some fantasy movie. Some stupid fantasy movie. — Kiersten White

Being on the edge is always worse than going through — Joseph Brown

Hannah Rose Brown was not quite 13 years old when she discovered her family was cursed. THE PUZZLE RING — Kate Forsyth

I may have people lying to me, but since I don't really know the truth, I can't be sure. — Sue Grafton

What else did you imagine?" His voice is low and rough and oh, so fucking sexy. "Tell me what happens next."

"You already know, " I whisper. "All the very good, very wrong things."

"I want to hear you say it."

"Okay," I say through my teeth. "You fuck me until I forget my own name."

"Wrong," he says. "I fuck you until the only name you know is mine. — Mercy Brown

It was all I could do to keep from lunging across the table and pressing my shuttering lips against his burning flesh. My palms were sweating profusely causing me to have to wipe them against my jeans under the table. Those last few seconds had felt like a lifetime in pause. — Jennifer L. Brown

A memory came to me. One time, in middle school, a famous author came to talk to our class and give a writing workshop. One of the things she told us about writing a novel was that the story should be about what the main character wants. Dorothy wants to go home to Kansas. George Milton wants a farm of his own. Amelia Sedley wants to marry her darling George and live happily ever after. The end of the story, according to the famous author, is when the character either gests what he wants or realizes he's never going to get it. Or sometimes, she said, like Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With the Wind, realizes she doesn't actually want what she thought she wanted all along.
pg. 324 of Bewitching — Alex Flinn

Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. — George R R Martin

As the last dish of confections was removed a weird pageant swept across the further end of the banqueting-room: Oberon and Titania with Robin Goodfellow and the rest, attired in silks and satins gorgeous of hue, and bedizened with such late flowers as were still with us. I leaned forward to commend, and saw that each face was brown and wizened and thin-haired: so that their motions and their wedding paean felt goblin and discomforting; nor could I smile till they departed by the further door.
("The Basilisk") — R. Murray Gilchrist

The hall door, beside which Rob worked that dreary noon, looked very old; its weathered brown paint was carved by long black lines left by leaks in the porch. — J.M.K. Walkow

Wouldn't it be cool to be single in a bygone area? I take a girl to a drive-in movie, we go have a cheeseburger and a malt at the diner, and then we make out under the stars in my old-timey convertible. Granted, this might have been tough in the fifties given my brown skin tone and racial tensions at the time, but in my fantasy, racial harmony is also part of the deal. — Aziz Ansari

Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her flawless skin had a slight sheen from her dash across the parking lot and up the stairs. Sexy, but he suspected the fantasy the sheen inspired was better than the reality. She was the job. Probably wore Kevlar to bed. End of story. Still, he did enjoy playing with her. He liked her big blue eyes, cute little nose, slim athletic body, and her earnest dedication to making the world a more law-abiding place. It made his dedication to crime much more interesting. — Janet Evanovich

The blue of winter, the brown of spring, the red of summer, and the fall of green. I seek the place of treasures past. I seek the truth of sand and glass. I call to the wind of seasons past. I bring with me the best of summer. I am the one with whom you bask. Deliver me and complete your task. — H.D. Smith

She waited for him to go on, but he simply gaped at her, lost for words.
"Doc Grey, do you want me?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"Vera, I..." He stopped abruptly. "I..."...
"I asked you a question." The words came out breathier than she'd intended. She stepped closer, until their bodies were less than an inch apart, and stared up into his gorgeous, honey-brown eyes. He met her gaze, and she saw a spark behind his irises that could only be described with one word: desire. — Kait Ballenger

Call center technology enables companies to "score" incoming calls and to give faster service to those that come from affluent places. — Michael J. Sandel

His shoulder-length hair was a rich, dark-brown color with a slight wave to it and it flowed behind him as he ran into the center of the gypsies. He was tall, muscular, and so beautifully handsome, yet primal. He looked magnificent. — Madison Thorne Grey

There were fat cats and skinny cats. The long-tailed and the bobbed. The daring young leapers, and the old windowsill sleepers. Balls of waddling fluff, smooth-coated prowlers, and hairless ones that looked fragile and wise. The tiger-striped, the ring-tailed, and the ones with matching coloured socks and mittens. There were tabbies and calicos. Manx and Persians. Siamese and Bombay. Ragdolls and Birmans. Maine Coons and Russian Blues. There were Snowshoes and Somalis, Tonkinese and Turkish, and many, many more. Brown and beige and orange and grey and black and white and silver cats, each with gleaming eyes of emerald, or sapphire, or amber. A rainbow of precious stones. — Brooke Burgess

You're asking for trouble, woman." At the gruff tone of his voice, I raised my head and met his dark, chocolate-brown eyes, rimmed by long lashes that didn't take an ounce away from his masculinity. I wanted to drown in those eyes.
"I like trouble, remember? — Suzanne Johnson

Fuck you!" "Right here?" He crossed his arms. "That definitely wouldn't help your getting over me. — Stacey Marie Brown

All creation has come to existence because of God and continues existing because of God. Were God's sustaining power suddenly removed from creation, it would immediately vanish into nothingness. This includes the soul, which - precisely because it is a creature and not the Creator - cannot subsist without God's sustaining power. It is not that we live because we have a soul, but rather that we have a soul and we live thanks to God's sustaining grace. — Justo L. Gonzalez

Shaking his head, Tobin turned back to his picnic spread, and there, sitting on the end of the checkered cloth, and helping himself to one of Tobin's cupcakes, was a tiny brown squirrel.
Tobin blinked in surprise.
The squirrel was exceptionally bold. He made absolutely no move to leave, despite Tobin's frown, and merely stuffed more pink icing into his mouth with one tiny paw. His ears were tufted into small points, and he tilted his head to the side as he surveyed Tobin with bright, inquisitive eyes.
Tobin had to laugh. "Well, I suppose I don't mind sharing with you, little guy, even if you did eat one of my cupcakes," Tobin chuckled to himself.
"I should hope so. Frankly, I'm surprised that you thought you could even eat five cupcakes all by yourself," the squirrel replied airily. — R.S. Mollison-Read