Rouhollah Mousavi Quotes & Sayings

The truth never hurts more than finding out someone you love has lied to you. — Fiona Paul

Eloise?' Phillip asked, his brows shooting up when they both heard someone bellow her name.
She felt the blood drain from her body. Positively felt it, *knew* it had happened, even though she couldn't see it pooling about her feet. There was no way she could survive a moment such as this, no way she could make it through without killing someone, preferably someone to whom she was quite closely related. — Julia Quinn

Either you push forward with the things that you were doing yesterday or you start dying. — Elizabeth Edwards

I suggest we learn to love ourselves before it's made illegal. — Brandon Boyd

In a society that prates about, but seldom practices, communication, the craving to be listened to, heard, understood - which originates with the first terrified wail, the circling arms, the breast, the consolatory murmur - is hard to assuage. — Nancy Mairs

What I say is, that the real non-resistants can believe in direct action only, never in political action. For the basis of all political action is coercion; even when the State does good things, it finally rests on a club, a gun, or a prison, for its power to carry them through. — Voltairine De Cleyre

My name," I whispered in her ear, and she shivered with pleasure. "Say my name again. Not in anger, or disgust, but as you did just now. As if I am the only man in the world who can satisfy you.
~Liam C. — J.J. McAvoy

You've got to spend your money for the things that money can buy, not worry about profit or loss. Save your energy for the things that money can't buy." He — Haruki Murakami

You deserve a job that doesn't require you dressing like this. For fuck's sake, Renny, your shirt is so tight I can see your damned bra." "Are my bralines bothering you? Let me fix that." He could only gape in shock as her hands slid under the fabric of her top, and in moments, she'd managed to unsnap her bra and slide her arms through the straps. She tossed the scrap of fabric at him. It hit him in the chest, but he clasped it before it could fall. The cottony material still held the warmth of her body. Was it him or the beast that lifted it for a sniff? Vanilla. Delicious. And tempting, just like the buds of her nipples clinging to the material of her shirt that drew his gaze. I am in so much trouble. — Eve Langlais

Feronia played at politics the way she played chess
shrewdly, always thinking about her next move. In this game, Feronia was queen, and Byrony a pawn. Normally, there was no comparing their strengths. But if a pawn was clever and evaded the ire of stronger pieces, if it moved strategically, if it refused to yield, there were ways it might advance. Ways it might become a queen. — Kaye Thornbrugh