Pink And Say Quotes & Sayings

That's not what he meant," Rachel says again, pink flushing her cheeks.
"Actually, I meant-" I start to say, but Willow cuts me off.
"What? It's true. He looks at you like he'd like to dip you in sugar and eat you up. — C.J. Redwine

You can always strip and go in naked. I'll watch to make sure nobody comes in."
She walks up to me, the pole gripped firmly in her fingers. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Uh, yeah," I say, stating the obvious. "I have to warn you, though. If you have granny undies on, you'll blow my fantasy."
"For your information, they're pink satin. As long as we're sharing personal info, are you a boxers or briefs guy?"
"Neither. My boys go free, if you know what I mean." Okay, I don't let my boys go free. She'll just have to figure that out herself.
"Gross, Alex."
"Don't knock it till you try it," I tell her, then walk toward the door. — Simone Elkeles

Can I stay?" The question broke Ashley Price's heart as she crouched in her messy foyer with her daughter in her arms. She clutched her five-year-old tighter as skinny little arms wrapped around her neck. "Very soon, okay?" Maddie - pink coat, pink boots, pink hat, pink gloves - pulled back and put on her poor-lost-puppy look. "Mo-om, you always say that. I'll be good. I'll be quiet when you paint. You won't even know I'm here. — Dana Marton

Let me say that whoever invented wanting, whoever came up with desire, whoever had the first one and let us all catch it like a hot-pink plague, I would like to tell that person that it wasn't fair of him or her to unleash such a thing upon the world without leaving us a warranty or at the very least an instruction manual about how to manage, how to live with, how to understand this thing that can happen in a person against her will, by which I mean desire and the need it gnaws in us and the shadow it leaves when it's gone. — Catherine Lacey

Gardens come and go, but I find myself getting attached to certain perennials. My tulips are bridesmaids, with fat faces and good posture. Hollyhocks are long necked sisters. Daffodils are young girls running out of a white church, sun shining on their heads. Peonies are pink-haired ladies, so full and stooped you have to tie them up with string. And roses are nothing but (I hate to say it) bitches
pretty show-offs who'll draw blood if you don't handle them just right.
-Vangie Galliard Nepper, From her
"Garden Diary," March 1952 — Michael Lee West

He's holding an armful of pink tulips and wearing a hungry, focused expression. His blue eyes
travel up and down over my body, and I feel almost shy under his gaze.
"You're a goddess."
He says it like a normal person would say, "Your dress is white. — Liz Reinhardt

What, in nature," Kit asked, "is the most beautiful thing you've seen? Or the most terrible?"
"The Dismals," Giles answered promptly. "A beautiful aberration in the lay of the land
North Alabama. A section mysteriously lowered, strewn with boulders, ferny, mossy, cooler
the vegetation, they say, typical of Canada. There the creek runs clear, but all other Alabama rivers and waterways are muddy with sediment. I even like the name
the Dismals. An eternal place, disjunct with the climate, the time, and its location."
"You think being dismal is an attractive association with eternity?" I asked.
"It is a cool Eden in the Southern summer heat. What's yours, Una?"
"The Kentucky hills in spring. Layers of pink and white
redbud and dogwood."
"And you?" Giles asked Kit.
"Stars," he said. That was all. — Sena Jeter Naslund

The time arrives. 'It is a waltz, I think,' Miss Larkins doubtfully observes, when I present myself. 'Do you waltz? If not, Captain Bailey - ' But I do waltz (pretty well, too, as it happens), and I take Miss Larkins out. I take her sternly from the side of Captain Bailey. He is wretched, I have no doubt; but he is nothing to me. I have been wretched, too. I waltz with the eldest Miss Larkins! I don't know where, among whom, or how long. I only know that I swim about in space, with a blue angel, in a state of blissful delirium, until I find myself alone with her in a little room, resting on a sofa. She admires a flower (pink camellia japonica, price half-a-crown), in my button-hole. I give it her, and say: 'I ask an inestimable price for it, Miss Larkins.' 'Indeed! What is that?' returns Miss Larkins. 'A flower of yours, that I may treasure it as a miser does gold.' 'You're a bold boy,' says Miss Larkins. 'There. — Charles Dickens

Staring down at my wrist, I can't believe what I'm looking at. This adorably sweet and sexy man has just placed a very colorful linked bracelet of the cutest Pac-Man on my wrist. It has a yellow Pac-Man with the blue, red, pink, and orange monsters on it.
"I love it!" I manage as I swallow back my tears of joy. I throw myself around him and say, "Thank you."
He lifts me up and twirls me just once before setting me down. "Happy?"
Smiling up at him, I respond, "More than happy. — Kim Karr

I feel naked in my Tommy hoodie and Victoria's Secret sweatpants with PINK written across the ass. The sweatpants aren't pink though - they're gray. This always confuses me when I put them on, because shouldn't they say GRAY - on the backside? Maybe Victoria's secret is she's colorblind. — Fanny Merkin

Why do the gingerbread girls have to wear pink?" Penny asks.
"Why should the gingerbread girls feel like they shouldn't wear pink?" I say. "I like pink."
"Only because you've been conditioned to like it by Barbies and gendered Lego."
"Lay off, Penny. I've never played with Lego. — Rainbow Rowell

Doubting Thomas was the one who gave the strongest and most conclusive testimony to the absolute Deity of the Savior which ever came from the lips of a man! Just as the railing thief became the one to own Christ's Lordship from the cross, just as timid Joseph and Nicodemus were the ones who honored the dead body of the Savior, just as the women were the boldest at the sepulcher, just as unfaithful Peter was the one whom Christ bade "Feed my sheep," just as the prime persecutor of the early church became the apostle to the Gentiles, so the sceptical and materialistic Thomas was the one to say "My Lord and my God." Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound! — Arthur W. Pink

-Well, well, look what you dragged up. You could've saved yourself the money on the flowers and just brought me him. Been a while since I entertained a handsome young Moroi
-It's been a while since I've met a woman who appreciates roses as much as I do, said Adrian, ever quick on his feet. Not that my experience has always been great with them. I've got to say, though, I've never seen such excellent decorating taste. You go for pink too, huh? I told them that when they got the flowers, but would they listen to me? No. They insisted on burgundy. — Richelle Mead

I know this looks pathetic, but I'm wearing black elastic-waist pants just like my mother's, a hot-pink fleece hat, mismatched socks, and no makeup. I think it's safe to say that vanity is no longer my biggest concern. — Lisa Genova

You can't say 'Oh my stars.' 'Oh my stars' is not a thing, and it makes no sense. The whole point of that saying is that you're calling out to someone for help, and stars are not 'someone,' and certainly not capable of helping." The words were out and gone before I realized what was happening. Grace just stared back at me, and I wanted so badly to shake the girl and make her realize that life couldn't be all overalls and pink rain boots and guardian stars. I wanted to make her realize that sometimes you had to work. — Natalie Bina

You can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Viktor always said
"
Ron looked around at her so fast he appeared to crick his neck; rubbing it, he said, "Yeah? What did Vicky say?"
"Ho ho," said Hermione in a bored voice. "He said Harry knew how to do stuff even he didn't, and he was in the final year at Durmstrang."
Ron was looking at Hermione suspiciously.
"You're not still in contact with him are you?"
"So what if I am?" said Hermione coolly, though her face was a little pink. "I can have a pen pal if I
"
"He didn't only want to be your pen pal," said Ron accusingly.
Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and ignored Ron, who was continuing to watch her. — J.K. Rowling

I saw it written and I saw it say
Pink moon is on its way
And none of you stand so tall
Pink Moon gonna get you all — Nick Drake

My parents told me I'd point to a bed of flowers and say 'Pink. Pretty,' before I knew any other words. — Joni Mitchell

You can't try. Trying is a struggle and doing is an act. You can't witness the act of trying, but you can see the results of doing. Trying brings on stress because not only do you have the problem, but now you have all this frustration with it not going away just because you want it to. It's kind of like being told not to think of pink elephants - impossible.
What you have to do is stop. You say to yourself, this is over for now. I'm done for
now. Take your mind to another place and concentrate on that peaceful place. Deep
breaths. Go limp. Put your mind in another state. It takes practice, but it gets easier,
over time. — Robyn Carr

I gave a pointed glance down at the pink stains on the bed, evidence of his climax due to the blood-to-water ratio in vampire bodies "So you made those... by yourself?" And rubbed some on me for good measure? I mentally added, but didn't say out loud. — Jeaniene Frost

If someone said, "Would you like to do the period drama?," I'd say, "Hell, yeah! I'd love to do that!" To dig into history and do a story in some period would be great. — Steve Pink

Exactly what don't I think is beautiful? Listen, I don't care what you say about my race, creed, or religion, Fatty, but don't tell me I'm not sensitive to beauty. To me, everything is beautiful. Show me a pink sunset and I'm limp, by God. Anything. — J.D. Salinger

Inherent in this technique is the ability to let go at the end of the out-breath, to open at the end of the out-breath, because for a moment there's actually no instruction about what to do. There's a possibility of what Rinpoche used to call "gap" at the end of the out-breath: you're mindful of your breath as it goes out, and then there's a pause as the breath comes in. It's as if you . . . pause. It doesn't help at all to say, "Don't be mindful of the in-breath" - that's like saying, "Don't think of a pink elephant." When you're told not to be mindful of something, it becomes an obsession. — Pema Chodron

It just goes to show, never say never, or the next thing you know, you'll be doing what you said you never would, owning a dog you swore you didn't want and walking (or carrying) a tiny, totally enchanting little dog on a rhinestone-studded pink leash. — Danielle Steel

You do realize that means you're officially off the market." I say, poking him in the hard stomach. The warm, wide palms of his hands cup my face and my breath hitches.
"Baby, I've been off the market since the moments these cheeks turned the sexiest shade of pink."
Heat flares under my skin and I avert my gaze. "And when was that?"
"When I caught you eye-fucking me."
I shove him and he lets go of my face. "I did not."
He laughs loudly and squeezes me against him. "You did. Admit it. — Skyla Madi

He sat on the edge of my bed. He didn't say anything at first, just stared at my toenails. I curled them under instinctively and immediately was worried that I'd messed up my painting job. I let them uncurl. Only one was marred. I used my thumb to rub most of the polish off of it and then I stared at my foot, which suddenly looked so vulnerable and imperfect with the one toe ringed in hot pink polish but bare on the inside of the nail. Like I'd started but had forgotten to finish being beautiful. — Jennifer Brown

Wenna followed us out. "You've done him some good, Clary, I have to say! He's got color in his cheeks, and he's stepping along as if he was sixty again," she told Goodwin as she walked us to the gate. "You'll come back?"
"Of course," Goodwin said. "But thank Cooper for his improved spirits. Once he'd insulted her a few times, he was in the pink. — Tamora Pierce

Florence had the Alberti fighting for freedom, but never had real Jacobins. It experienced the Viva Maria insurrections, but never really witnessed strong extremist passions. Using the comparison of the colours universally celebrated by Stendhal, we can say that the Florentine red rather resembled a pink and that the black looked more like a grey. — Franco Cardini

There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: 'I'll go take a hot bath.'
I meditate in the bath.The water needs to be very hot, so hot you can barely stand putting your foot in it. Then you lower yourself, inch by inch, till the water's up to your neck.
I remember the ceiling over every bathtub I've stretched out in. I remember the texture of the ceilings and the cracks and the colors and the damp spots and the light fixtures. I remember the tubs, too: the antique griffin-legged tubs, and the modern coffin-shaped tubs, and the fancy pink marble tubs overlooking indoor lily ponds, and I remember the shapes and sizes of the water taps and the different sorts of soap holders.
I never feel so much myself as when I'm in a hot bath. — Sylvia Plath

How solemn is this fact: nothing can be concealed from God! "For I know the things that come into your mind, every one of them" (Ezek. 11:5). Though he be invisible to us, we are not so to him. Neither the darkness of night, the closest curtains, nor the deepest dungeon can hide any sinner from the eyes of Omniscience. The trees of the garden were not able to conceal our first parents. No human eye beheld Cain murder his brother, but his Maker witnessed his crime. Sarah might laugh derisively in the seclusion of her tent, yet was it heard by Jehovah. Achan stole a wedge of gold and carefully hid it in the earth, but God brought it to light. David was at much pains to cover up his wickedness, but ere long the all-seeing God sent one of his servants to say to him, "Thou art the man!" And to writer and reader is also said, "Be sure your sin will find you out" (Num. 32:23). — Arthur W. Pink

Captain," I said after ten steps, without breaking stride. "I do understand that this is the Genitalia Festival. But when you say genitalia, doesn't that usually mean genitals generally? Not just one kind?" For all the steps I'd taken, and as far down the corridor as I could see, the walls were hung with tiny penises. Bright green, hot pink, electric blue, and a particularly eye-searing orange. — Ann Leckie

I guess we are juste two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl," I say.
Her eyes narrow. "I've heard that somewhere before."
I smile and point at her briefly. "Pink Floyd. But it's the truth."
"You think we're lost?"
I tilt my head back a little and look up at the stars behind her and say, "In society maybe. But together, no. I think we're right where we need to be. — J.A. Redmerski

And I lie down on your carpet so long that you think I will stay forever but I get up and I see the indentation in the carpet and I get jealous and say, "I am no longer needed here. — Sam Pink

Anyone could buy a green Jaguar, find beauty in a Japanese screen two thousand years old. I would rather be a connoisseur of neglected rivers and flowering mustard and the flush of iridescent pink on an intersection pigeon's charcoal neck. I thought of the vet, warming dinner over a can, and the old woman feeding her pigeons in the intersection behind the Kentucky Fried Chicken. And what about the ladybug man, the blue of his eyes over gray threaded black? There were me and Yvonne, Niki and Paul Trout, maybe even Sergei or Susan D. Valeris, why not? What were any of us but a handful of weeds. Who was to say what our value was? What was the value of four Vietnam vets playing poker every afternoon in front of the Spanish market on Glendale Boulevard, making their moves with a greasy deck missing a queen and a five? Maybe the world depended on them, maybe they were the Fates, or the Graces. Cezanne would have drawn them in charcoal. Van Gogh would have painted himself among them. — Janet Fitch

I have an older sister and my mom would dress us up identically, so in all of our pictures, we're in these giant pink, poufy outfits. I remember when I was four or five, we all went to a theme park and I had to go to the bathroom but couldn't hold it in anymore. Let's just say, I had to buy a brand new outfit! But that moment was the first time I remember ever wearing something different from my sister at an event. It was my breakthrough moment when I decided I was never going to match my sister again! — Analeigh Tipton

For many of us, the opposite of talking isn't listening. It's waiting. When others speak, we typically divide our attention between what they're saying now and what we're going to say next - and end up doing a mediocre job at both. — Daniel H. Pink

Keynes, quite ignoring the covert gestures, the attempts at signaling, of nearly every senior officer, examined [Lily] and declared that she was perfectly fit to fly, "had better fly, I should say; this agitation is unnatural, and must be worked off."
"But perhaps," Laurence said, voicing the reluctance which the captains all privately shared, and they as a body began to suggest flights out over the ocean, along the scenic and settled coastline and back; gentle exercise.
"I hope," Catherine said, going pink clear up to her forehead in a wave of color, "I hope that no-one is going to fuss; I would dislike fuss extremely. — Naomi Novik

It's pronounced wee but spelled O-U-I. It's all you'll want to say when you're sitting at one of the thousands of little cafes that line the streets and you're looking at a menu full of foods you just want to eat for days. And then you wake up early, and the sun is rising in shades of pink over the white buildings as you make your way through the sleepy streets until you're upon the fresh markets! — Giada De Laurentiis

Bubba then grabbed a hold of my leg and his eyes got all cloudy and that terrible pink sky seem to drain all the colour in his face.
He was trying to say something, and so I bent over real close to hear what it was. But I never could make it out. So I asked the medic, ' You hear what he say?'
And the medic say, 'Home. He said, home.'
Bubba, he died, and that's all I got to say about that. — Winston Groom

the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her. There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, 'Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a — Lewis Carroll

A true recognition of God's sovereignty will avow God's perfect right to do with us as He wills. The one who bows to the pleasure of the Almighty will acknowledge His absolute right to do with us as seemeth Him good. If He chooses to send poverty, sickness, domestic bereavements, even while the heart is bleeding at every pore, it will say, Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right! Often there will be a struggle, for the carnal mind remains in the believer to the end of his earthly pilgrimage. But though there may be a conflict within his breast, nevertheless, to the one who has really yielded himself to this blessed truth there will presently be heard that Voice saying, as of old it said to the turbulent Gennesaret, "Peace be still"; and the tempestuous flood within will be quieted and the subdued soul will lift a tearful but confident eye to Heaven and say, "Thy will be done. — Arthur W. Pink

If you try to be everything to everybody, you will end up being nothing to no one. If you write something you think people will want just to be the person who gives them things they want, you will always fail. Let's say that everyone loves blue this year - blue is all the rage. So you sit down and write something blue. Well, by the time you get your blue out for people to see, people will have moved on to pink and won't want blue anymore. Now you're stuck with this blue thing that no one wants, including you. — Brian Michael Bendis

If it's just a matter of looking, I've looked! I've looked for happiness at home. I've looked all over this neighbourhood for happiness ... Someday, I'll look all over this country for happiness ... And, someday, I'll look all around the world for happiness, but I'll probably never find it ... Then, after I've looked all over the world, I'll return home."
"And when you return home, you'll find the very happiness that was there all along! Is that what you're trying to say?"
"No, but maybe I'll find that stupid little pink bracelet I lost yesterday! — Charles M. Schulz

I'll need to see your colors to help me gauge your intoxication.
I assumed it would be a relief to let down my mental guard, but I felt exposed and didn't like the way my dad's eyes squinched up when he saw my colors. I'd been trying not to think about Kaidan, but that only made me think of him more. My dad pinched the bridge of his nose. I was guessing he didn't think dark pink passionate love had any business being in his little girl's wardrobe of emotions. But he didn't say anything about it-only let out a jagged sigh and began. — Wendy Higgins

Life with you was lovely - and when I say lovely, I mean doves and lilies, and velvet, and that soft pink 'v' in the middle and the way your tongue curved up to the long, lingering 'l.' Our life together was alliterative, and when I think of all the little things which will die, now that we cannot share them, I feel as if we were dead too. — Vladimir Nabokov

I was sorry he had not a cat, or a young dog, or better still, an old dog. But all he had to offer in the way of dumb companions was a pink and grey parrot. He used to try and teach it to say, Nihil in intellectu, etc. These first three words the bird managed well enough, but the celebrated restriction was too much for it, all you heard was a series of squawks. — Samuel Beckett

I've wanted to be an actor since I was eight years old and I did TV commercials when I was a kid. When I was eleven Saturday Night Live came on and I thought, "Oh God, I'd love to do that." I saw the Pink Panther movies and thought, "God, I'd love to have a comedy series; I'd love to have a character I'd created that becomes a series." I've now pretty-much done everything I've wanted to do since I was eight years old and it's a wonderful feeling, I've got to say. — Mike Myers

He started to say, "I have a lot of work - " just as Izzy
walked in the front door, and his mouth fell open. Her hair
had been swept up on one side, pinned back by a pink flower.
Nothing too big. Just the right size to look kind of sexy. His
gaze skimmed down over a pink sparkly dress that stopped
mid-thigh - and she had the legs for it. Now, not only was he
dealing with the fact that she wasn't a kid anymore, he was
seeing her as a gorgeous, sexy woman. It was as if someone
had waved a magic wand and she'd changed overnight. — Susan Meier

...Stella's tiny butt stuck in the air as she stretched to reach a weed. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a button-down pink and white checked shirt that was tucked into the elastic waistband of her pants. She reminded Rusty of an elf. "Excuse me, Stella?" "You stop right there if you have trouble on your mind. As you can see, I have plenty of birds, and I'll knock you out with one of them," Stella said without looking up. Rusty wanted to say that she'd yank up her own plastic flamingo and work Stella over with it in a heartbeat. Instead, she took a calming breath and said, "I made something you might like to have." "If it's a grenade launcher, I'm listening, Achmed. — Robin Alexander

We're workers, they say. Work, they call it! That's the crummiest part of the whole business. We're down in the hold, heaving and panting, stinking and sweating our balls off, and meanwhile! Up on deck in the fresh air, what do you see?! Our masters having a fine time with beautiful pink and perfumed women on their laps. They send for us, we're brought up on deck. They put on their top hats and give us a big spiel like as follows: "You no-good swine! We're at war! Those stinkers in Country No. 2! We're going to board them and cut their livers out! Let's go! Let's go! We've got everything we need on board! All together now! Let's hear you shout so the deck trembles: 'Long live Country No. 1!' So you'll be heard for miles around. The man that shouts the loudest will get a medal and a lollipop! Let's — Louis-Ferdinand Celine

When people aren't producing, companies typically resort to rewards or punishment. "What you haven't done is the hard work of diagnosing what the problem is. You're trying to run over the problem with a carrot or a stick," Ryan explains. That doesn't mean that SDT unequivocally opposes rewards. "Of course, they're necessary in workplaces and other settings," says Deci. "But the less salient they are made, the better. When people use rewards to motivate, that's when they're most demotivating." Instead, Deci and Ryan say we should focus our efforts on creating environments for our innate psychological needs to flourish. — Daniel H. Pink

And when you and I are long forgot, they'll say, 'You should have heard them playing. You should have seen them marching, then.' And it'll snow again. But it'll no break 'til after the parade. And when we come back from the hill it'll be bitter cold, and a wee bit misty maybe, and pink over the roofs. I see it fine. — James Kennaway

Romance isn't just about pink balloons and heart-shaped cards. It is something much deeper. He put a hand to his heart. Here, where it matters, men are more caring. Ask any young woman what kind of man she wants to marry and the answer will be prince or a millionaire. Ask the same questions of a hundred men, and very few will say that they want a princess or a rich girl. The want somebody beautiful and kind — Farahad Zama

This is sad. I just think it's a little ridiculous we are still only looking at the surface of one another. Red hair? Blue hair? Pink? Blonde? Short? Long? Whatever. We might as well shave our heads. Hair has nothing to do with the reason we playing music. It's a style. Something that will never last as long as the songs we play and the words we sing. Listen up ladies in bands, I'm so proud to be one of you and I don't care if we all look exactly alike or if we are all carbon copies of each other. We have things to say and it's up to us to get people to not just look but to LISTEN! — Hayley Williams

What are you doing here, Carrington? I didn't expect you today." "I came to see if Miss Sullivan would care to go for a drive," Carrington said, turning hopeful eyes toward Addie. Her cheeks grew pink. "I'm flattered, Mr. Carrington, but I'm sorry to say I must decline. Edward needs me, and I have other work I must attend to." Carrington huffed and turned to John. "You surely aren't going to work Miss Sullivan all the time, young man." "Of course not. She's welcome to take off any afternoon she pleases, and one whole day a week," John said, glancing at Addie. "Just please clear it with me, Miss Sullivan." "You're very generous," Addie said, standing. "Thank you for your offer, Lord Carrington, but I'm going to be much too busy for the next few weeks for a social life. I need to devote all my free time to Mrs. Eaton's wardrobe. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to tend to Edward. — Colleen Coble

I say, 'Get me some poets as managers.' Poets are our original systems thinkers. They contemplate the world in which we live and feel obligated to interpret, and give expression to it in a way that makes the reader understand how that world runs. Poets, those unheralded systems thinkers, are our true digital thinkers. It is from their midst that I believe we will draw tomorrow's new business leaders.
Sidney Harman, CEO Multimillionaire of a stereo components company — Daniel H. Pink

I'm an atheist, and I don't have any belief in an afterlife. You could say that I'm resigned to the fact that this wonderful life that we get here is it. And having hit 60, it's a good time to get resigned to these things and not be too nervous or upset - and enjoy what great times one can have. — David Gilmour

Watch it." Josh bites into a pink apple and talks through a full mouth. "He has parts down there you don't have."
"Ooo, parts," I say. "Intriguing. Tell me more."
Josh smiles sadly. "Sorry. Privileged information. Only people with parts can know about said parts. — Stephanie Perkins

You're sure you don't need me to walk you home? I say, lifting my eyebrow and giving her my most flirtatious smile.
She refuses but blushes deeply-hot pink spreading across her cheeks. As usual, I feel a wild rush of success. I love flirting more than food. Or even fighting. And evoking a blush is one of the most satisfying results I can hope for.
I like this girl, I find myself thinking. I'm actually looking forward to her being around. — Amy Plum

See," she's saying. "I told you, Heather. You're too nice to win. Too weak. Not in good enough shape. Because size twelveis fat. Oh, I know what you're going to say. It's the size of the average American woman. But guess what? The average American woman is fat, Heather.'[ ... ]
It takes me a while to realize that the breathing isn't my own. When I'm finally able to see, I look up, and see Rachel laying at my feet, blood pouring out of an indentation on the side of her head and tingeing the rain puddles all around her pink.And standing before me, a bloodied bottle of Absolut in her hand, is Mrs. Allington, her pink jogging suit drenched, her chest heaving, her eyes filled with contempt as she stares down at Rachel's prone body.Mrs. Allington shakes her head.
"I'm a size twelve," she says. — Meg Cabot

Pink is like the one color I say I hate, and yet somehow I end up wearing it. Like, Michael Kors sent me a pink dress, and I'm like: 'So beautiful!' And I'm wearing it telling him 'I hate pink, why am I wearing this? It's really nice though.' — Kate Mara

After Auschwitz"

Anger,
as black as a hook,
overtakes me.
Each day,
each Nazi
took, at 8: 00 A.M., a baby
and sauteed him for breakfast
in his frying pan.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and picks at the dirt under his fingernail.

Man is evil,
I say aloud.
Man is a flower
that should be burnt,
I say aloud.
Man
is a bird full of mud,
I say aloud.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and scratches his anus.

Man with his small pink toes,
with his miraculous fingers
is not a temple
but an outhouse,
I say aloud.
Let man never again raise his teacup.
Let man never again write a book.
Let man never again put on his shoe.
Let man never again raise his eyes,
on a soft July night.
Never. Never. Never. Never. Never.
I say those things aloud.

I beg the Lord not to hear. — Anne Sexton

I spent seven months in Africa and came back saying there isn't anything you can say about black people that you couldn't say about, say, pink people except that they're black. — Larry Rivers

CELL

Now look objectively. You have to
admit the cancer cell is beautiful.
If it were a flower, you'd say, How pretty,
with its mauve centre and pink petals

of if a cover for a pulpy thirties
sci-fi magazine. How striking:
as an alien, a success,
all purple eye and jelly tentacles
and spines, or are they gills,
creeping around on granular Martian
dirt red as the inside of the body,

while its tender walls
expand and burst, its spores
scatter elsewhere, take root, like money,
drifting like a fiction or
miasma in and out of people's
brains, digging themselves
industriously in. The lab technician

says, It has forgotten
how to die. But why remember? All it wants is more
amnesia. More life, and more abundantly. to take
more. to eat more. To replicate itself. To keep on
doing those things forever. Such desires
are not unknown. Look in the mirror. — Margaret Atwood

Arms and legs thrashing. The hammer of blood.
I'm coming, says Jude.
And holds her breath. Orgasm is brief, nonviolent.
What color? I say
Devastating blue, she says. The pale blue eyes of a murdered boy.
Very nice.
You remembered, she says.
Jude comes in colors. How could I forget. Trembling blond orgasms that seem to piss her off and rare pink orgasms that never end. Chemical red orgasms that fill her with guilt and perfect orgasms black as fresh earth. Orgasms shadowy and gray that may or may not cause her to weep and orgasms the color of bruised skin, orgasms that fade from purple to yellow and remain visible for days. — Will Christopher Baer

Listen, I don't care what you say about my race, creed, or religion, Fatty, but don't tell me I'm not sensitive to beauty. That's my Achilles' heel, and don't you forget it. To me, everything is beautiful. Show me a pink sunset, and I'm limp, by God. Anything. Peter Pan. Even before the curtain goes up at Peter Pan I'm a goddamn puddle of tears. — J.D. Salinger

I regularly frequent St. George';s, Hanover Square, during the genteel marriage season; and though I have never seen the bridegroom's male friends give way to tears, or the beadles and officiating clergy in any way affected, yet it is not at all uncommon to see women who are not in the least concerned in the operations going on
old ladies who are long past marrying, stout middle-aged females with plenty of sons and daughters, let alone pretty young creatures in pink bonnets, who are on their promotion, and may naturally taken an interest in the ceremony
I say it is quite common to see the women present piping, sobbing, sniffling; hiding their little faces in their little useless pocket-handkerchiefs; and heaving, old and young, with emotion. — William Makepeace Thackeray

When I was 16, I had a job on the cleaning crew at a local hospital. I wore a pink uniform and cleaned bathrooms and buffed the hallway linoleum. Oddly, I don't recall hating the job. I recall getting choked up at the end of the summer when I went to turn in my uniform and say goodbye to the ladies. — Mary Roach

One Easter, when she heard the priest say He is risen, she found herself standing up from the pew and walking out the cathedral door. She left the order, dyed her hair pink, and hiked the Appalachian Trail. It was somewhere on the Presidential Range that Jesus appeared to her in a vision, and told her there were many souls to feed. — Jodi Picoult

As soon as you start to think of that thing that you want to convey or say, you can always just say it much better than you can actually rhyme it or stuff it into a song. It's very, very difficult to just kind of get your point across without going the back way. And you have to be good at that, to not think about things so hard. Let the pen take over, so that it's somebody else's job to dissect the lyrics and tell you what you're all about. — Ariel Pink

I sometimes think drivers don't know what grass is, or flowers, because they never see them slowly," she said. "If you showed a driver a green blur, Oh yes! he'd say, that's grass! A pink blur? That's a rose-garden! White blurs are houses. Brown blurs are cows. My uncle drove slowly on a highway once. He drove forty miles an hour and they jailed him for two days. Isn't that funny, and sad, too? — Ray Bradbury

We never asked to bow. Who is he to say Red and Browns toiling to death is for the greater good? Who is he to say Pink children being harvested for rape, Obsidians and Grays for battle, is a necessity? How can he sit there and say that he alone knows what is best for me, for my family? It's not his right — Pierce Brown

It asked readers, "Hot pink dress-is it a do or a don't?" Now here's my question about this poll: who cares? If you want to wear a pink dress, wear a pink dress. It doesn't matter what other people think. One hundred percent of the people polled could say a pink dress is a "do" and guess what? I still ain't wearing one. — Ellen DeGeneres

What if the water that came out of the shower was treated with a chemical that responded to a combination of things, like your heartbeat and your body temperature and your brainwaves, so that your skin changed color according to mood? If you were extremely excited your skin would turn green, and if you we're angry you'd turn red, obviously, and if you felt like shiitake you'd turn brown and if you we're blue you'd turn blue.
Everyone could know what everyone else felt and we could be more careful with each other, because you'd never want to tell someone who skin was purple that you're angry at her for being late, just like you'd want to pat a pink person on the back and say, Congratulations! — Jonathan Safran Foer

The becoming attitude for us to take is that of godly fear, implicit obedience, and unreserved resignation and submission. But not only so: the recognition of the sovereignty of God, and the realization that the Sovereign Himself is my Father, ought to overwhelm the heart and cause me to bow before Him in adoring worship. At all times I must say Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in Thy sight. — Arthur W. Pink

Newsflash she already has body image issues.
It's an intrinsic part of being a woman. Every woman in the world has some part of herself that she absolutely hates.
Her hands are too small, her feet are too big, her hair is too straight, too curly, her ears stick out, her bums too flat, her nose is too big and, you know, nothing you can say will change how we feel.
What men don't understand is, the right clothes, the right shoes, the right makeup it just ... It, it hides the flaws we think we have.
They make us look beautiful to ourselves.
That's what makes us look beautiful to others.
Used to be all she needed to feel beautiful was a pink tutu and a plastic tiara.
And we spend our whole lives trying to feel that way again. — Richard Castle

If you guys want to get a MOM tattoo and save a little money, just get two letters done. Get about a one-inch capital M tattooed on each cheek of your ass in pink and brown ink. Then when you bend over, it says "Mom." Also, later on if you're havin' sex with your girlfriend, and her parents are in the next room, when you finish up you can just lie on your back, draw your legs up to your chest and silently say, 'Wow! — George Carlin

Her eyes are green, angry. Her nipples are hard. Lust is absurd. It strikes in the strangest places at the oddest times. She doesn't even realize she's feeling it. She's erected a barricade of propriety and lies between us. I despise the type of woman she is. I loathe her soft pink innocence. My body doesn't concur. I wonder why her? Why not, say, a streetlamp, for all we have in common? She's chiffon and satin ribbons. I'm raw meat and razor blades. I have never been drawn to my opposite. I like what I am. — Karen Marie Moning

I love the pink that creeps up your cheeks when I say something dirty. The way your pussy throbs when I mention what I'm going to do to you later, and you wiggle in your seat trying to control it. So yeah, I guess I do like watching you flustered. You sit and give your attention to the waiter, trying to pretend you're listening to whatever he's saying instead of thinking of me feeding you my cock later, but we both know you didn't hear one word he said. Hell I didn't hear one word watching you, just knowing what you were thinking about. — Vi Keeland

An opinion isn't right or wrong. It's your interpretation of a subject or a situation. You can't be f......g wrong!
"So, if I look at the sky and have the opinion that the clouds are pink, I'm right?"
"Yes! Because it's an opinion, not a fact, and maybe to you, the clouds are pink because you're nuts. An opinion doesn't need to be true for anyone else in the world but you. Stop trying to f.....g please everyone and just say what you think. — Leisa Rayven