Maslach Theory Quotes & Sayings

Leaning close enough for me to count his whiskers, he mines my vag for oil and says softly, "You do what you gotta do, and so will I. We're heading to the bus. When we get there, I need you humping my face. Breathing is optional. Orgasms are mandatory. You don't leave until you squirt at least twice. Understand?"

I try in vain to catch my breath. "We may be in for a long night."

The corner of his mouth twitches into a smile, and he slows his strokes. "I hope so. — Kendall Grey

Oh, Teddy, darling, thank you, thank you, for restoring my cynicism. I was too young to lose it. — Elaine Dundy

Good company and good discourse are the very sinews of virtue. — Izaak Walton

- mind, Miss Taggart? My mind is not on the market any longer. — Ayn Rand

If I determine the enemy's disposition of forces while I have no perceptible form, I can concentrate my forces while the enemy is fragmented. The pinnacle of military deployment approaches the formless: if it is formless, then even the deepest spy cannot discern it nor the wise make plans against it. — Sun Tzu

Fantasy is no good unless the seed it springs from is a truth, a truth about human beings. — Eudora Welty

Violating the 4th Amendment guarantees against illegal searches and seizures is not the way to solve crime problems. — Tim Wise

Two words. Three vowels. Four constenants. Seven letters. It can either cut you open to the core and leave you in ungodly pain or it can free your soul and lift a tremendous weight off you shoulders. The phrase is: It's over. — Maggi Richard

And now, as I'm lying alone in my own bed, I keep thinking about writhing against him last night, naked and vulnerable. Even after we'd both risen and fallen, peaked and plummeted, even after Marcus was physically shrinking from inside me, I couldn't stop clutching, crying, trying. Trying to pull him deeper, deeper, deeper within.
Trying to make him more a part of me than I am myself. — Megan McCafferty

What would it be like when I was fifty, sixty, older? I'd be no more than a jumble of organs in slow decomposition. — Michel Houellebecq