A Quote by Audrey Niffenegger
I feel that I an everything to her.
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We have a couple of rules in our relationship. The first rule is that I make her feel like she's getting everything. The second rule is that I actually do let her have her way in everything. And, so far, it's working.
Her [Eleanor Roosevelt] father was the love of her life. Her father always made her feel wanted, made her feel loved, where her mother made her feel, you know, unloved, judged harshly, never up to par. And she was her father's favorite, and her mother's unfavorite. So her father was the man that she went to for comfort in her imaginings.
But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the Mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim.
Everything is a grace, everything is the direct effect of our Father's love - difficulties, contradictions, humiliations, all the soul's miseries, her burdens, her needs - everything, because through them, she learns humility, realizes her weakness. Everything is a grace because everything is God's gift. Whatever be the character of life or its unexpected events - to the heart that loves, all is well.
When she comes She pulls you close She breathes in short bursts Her eyes close Her head tilts back Her mouth opens slightly Her thighs turn to steel, and then melt She is perfect And you feel like you are everything.
She needs someone who will be everything for her: her friend, her boyfriend, her confidant, her lover and sometimes even her enemy.
My sister is my little star, and I'm excited for her and proud of her. With her, I'm protective, but also I don't want to be that sister who's really pushy and thinks they know everything and making her feel like she doesn't know what she's doing. I'm trying to be that cool older sister and not the mom, but it's hard.
He leaped to his feet, grabbed her, and spun her to face him. "No more bullshit, Sin. Feel what you've done." He took her hand and pressed it to her chest, where her heart was pounding painfully fast. So was his. "Let yourself feel something for someone else." ~Con
I'm attracted to artists like Frida Kahlo, because her work was her life, her questions, her outrage, her suffering, her pain. Everything is in her work.
A writer is always, always searching, even against her will, against all her better instincts, for the thread of a story. Everything is fodder. Everything is fuel. You can feel it coming on like the tingling of a sore throat. The brain never stops struggling to reshape every experience and feeling into a coherent narrative.
He could do only one thing at a time. If he held her, he couldn't kiss her. If he kissed her, he couldn't see her. If he saw her, he couldn't feel her.
I don't aspire to have her career, or to be as talented as her, because I'd feel like I was shooting myself down in flames. If you have a parent who is that successful and set them as a benchmark, then everything is going to be disappointing.
From daydreams on the road there was no waking. He plodded on. He could remember everything of her save her scent. Seated in a theatre with her beside him leaning forward listening to the music. Gold scrollwork and sconces and the tall columnar folds of the drapes at either side of the stage. She held his hand in her lap and he could feel the tops of her stockings through the thin stuff of her summer dress. Freeze this frame. Now call down your dark and your cold and be damned.
I watch her as she leaves. Everything about her is fluid as a river. Her messy hair, her xylophone voice, the strokes of her paintbrush. Even her camouflage army jacket hangs loose, flowing like ribbons.
Diana Ross is a big inspiration to all of us. We all grew up watching everything about her - her mike placement, her grace, her style and her class.
If Nightcloud were a gentle, loving cat like Leafpool, or feisty and warmhearted like Squirrelflight, it would be easier to feel sorry for her. After all, Crowfeather took her as a mate to prove he was loyal to WindClan in spite of everything of trying to run off with the ThunderClan medicine cat. But she's a difficult she-cat to like, with her short temper and her possessivness over Crowfeather and her son, Breezepaw.
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