Loofahs With Handles Quotes & Sayings

What distinguishes all love from lust is the fact that it bears an impress of eternity. — Soren Kierkegaard

But even that day, there on the porch, with Charles beside me and the smell of wood smoke in the air, it had the quality of a memory; there it was, before my eyes, and yet too beautiful to believe. — Donna Tartt

Finnikin's head was bent low over the horse and he kicked its flanks hard and Froi had never clutched the body of one who felt so much but it reminded him of the time when he had tried to take Evanjalin in the barn. Both times the touch of their bodies had burned him, but this time something entered his bloodstream. Planted a seed. — Melina Marchetta

Everything here is alive thanks to the living of everything else. — Lewis Thomas

I'm so used to planning for guys, dressing and undressing for them and trying to morph myself into their dream girl. I'm so used to it that I don't really know where that girl ends and the real me begins. I suppose what it comes down to is confidence. I'm confident in that girl, the one who emerges from my walk-in wearing lingerie when I'm done getting ready. But at Faye's house, I'm not going to be that girl. I'm going to be me.
Whoever that is anymore. — Laurie Elizabeth Flynn

Dazed, Nick nodded, then looked to Caleb. "I'm such an effing idiot."
"We knew that," he said drily. "We definitely didn't have to throw you into a coma for that little-known nugget. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Pasquale considered his friend's face. It had such an open quality, was such a clearly American face, like Dee's face, like Michael Deane's face. He believed he could spot an American anywhere by that quality - that openness, that stubborn belief in possibility, a quality that, in his estimation, even the youngest Italians lacked. Perhaps it was the difference in age between the countries - America with its expansive youth, building all those drive-in movie theaters and cowboy restaurants; Italians living in endless contraction, in the artifacts of generations, in the bones of empires. This reminded him of Alvis Bender's contention that stories were like nations - Italy a great epic poem, Britain a thick novel, America a brash motion picture in Technicolor - and he remembered, too, Dee Moray saying she'd spent years "waiting for her movie to start," and that she'd almost missed out on her life waiting for it. — Jess Walter