A Quote by Tess Gallagher
I stop writing the poem to fold the clothes. No matter who lives or who dies, I'm still a woman. I'll always have plenty to do. I bring the arms of his shirt together. Nothing can stop our tenderness. I'll get back to the poem. I'll get back to being a woman. But for now there's a shirt, a giant shirt in my hands, and somewhere a small girl standing next to her mother watching to see how it's done.
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Here's a news flash for the ladies: for every one of you who thinks we all want a girl like Angelina Jolie, all skinny elbows and angles, the truth is, we'd rather curl up with someone like Charlotte - a woman who's soft when a guy wraps his arms around her; a woman who might have a smear of flour on her shirt the whole day and not notice or care, not even when she goes out to meet with the PTA; a woman who doesn't feel like an exotic vacation but is the home we can't wait to come back to.
...then he looked at my T-shirt and saw Byron's picture on it and he quoted "She Walks in Beauty," which is like my favorite poem next to the one by Baudelaire about his girlfriend being nothing but worm food, except that Lily called that one first because Baudelaire is her fave poet and so she got the shirt with him on it, even though Byron is way more scrumptious and I would do him on sharp gravel if I had the chance. --from The Chronicles of Abby Normal
Christian stretched out beside her and pulled her close. ?But for what it?s worth, I think you?d be a great queen too, Princess Dragomir.? ?You?re going to get dirty,? she warned. ?Already am. Oh, you mean from your clothes?? He wrapped his arms around her, heedless of her damp and muddy state. ?I spent most of my childhood hiding in a dusty attic and own exactly one dress shirt. You really think I care about this T-shirt??
For a split second longer she stood motionless. Then, somehow, she had caught at the front of his shirt and pulled him toward her. His arms went around her, lifting her almost out of her sandals, and then he was kissing her—or she was kissing him, she wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. The feel of his mouth on hers was electric; her hands gripped his arms, pulling him hard against her. The feel of his heart pounding through his shirt made her dizzy with joy. No one else’s heart beat like Jace’s did, or ever could.
To John Cena after the fans kept throwing his shirt back in the ring : They didn't throw my shirt back.
She’s really gone, then. The little girl with the back of her shirt sticking out like a duck tail, the one who needed help reaching the dishes, and who begged to see the frosted cakes in the bakery window. Time and tragedy have forced her to grow too quickly, at least for my taste, into a young woman who stitches bleeding wounds and knows our mother can hear only so much.
My heart born naked was swaddled in lullabies. Later alone it wore poems for clothes. Like a shirt I carried on my back the poetry I had read. So I lived for half a century until wordlessly we met. From my shirt on the back of the chair I learn tonight how many years of learning by heart I waited for you.
At a show, I'll look out from the stage and see a woman with a pearl necklace next to a guy in a Grateful Dead T-shirt next to a young kid with his mom. It's fun to see them all together.
A bespoke shirt is one of the true luxuries that you can acquire. There's nothing better than a fitted shirt. Once you've picked up your first one, you'll never stop buying them - providing you can pay for it.
Sometimes the only way I know how to work through something is by writing a poem. And sometimes I get to the end of the poem and look back and go, 'Oh, that's what this is all about,' and sometimes I get to the end of the poem and haven't solved anything, but at least I have a new poem out of it.
I love a white shirt; there's nothing sexier on a woman than a white men's shirt.
I've done films where you have to get in shape for purely vanity reasons, when you read a script, turn to page 87 and it says: "Rips his shirt off and casually throws it onto chair" - and you're going to go to the gym the next day because nobody wants to see your big fat arse out there taking your shirt off!
You look ridiculous,” Wren said. “What?” “That shirt.” It was a Hello Kitty shirt from eighth or ninth grade. Hello Kitty dressed as a superhero. It said SUPER CAT on the back, and Wren had added an H with fabric paint. The shirt was cropped too short to begin with, and it didn’t really fit anymore. Cath pulled it down self-consciously. “Cath!” her dad shouted from downstairs. “Phone.” Cath picked up her cell phone and looked at it “He must mean the house phone,” Wren said. “Who calls the house phone?” “Probably 2005. I think it wants its shirt back.
I let it all out--my mom's date,my dad's conversation,my confusion about it all.Caleb doesn't laugh,he doesn't pull away,he doesn't talk .. He just lets me be me. When I settle down,I lean back and witness the mess I've made on his shirt."I made ur shirt all gross," I say between sniffles. "Forget the shirt.What's going on? I could.nt understand a word you mumbled into my chest." Now I'm half laughing and half crying.
You rarely see me without a DDP YOGA shirt on. There are times where I wear a regular shirt when I do an interview, and in the middle of it, I go, 'Wait a second. Let me change my shirt.'
My fans want my shirt. They can have my shirt. They put it on my back.
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