A Quote by Del Shannon

Here she comes that little town flirt, you're falling for her and you're gonna get hurt. — © Del Shannon
Here she comes that little town flirt, you're falling for her and you're gonna get hurt.
Soon as I see her walk up in the club, I'm a flirt. Winking eyes at me, when I roll up on them dubs, I'm a flirt. Sometimes when I'm with my chick on the low, I'm a flirt. And when she's wit her man looking at me, damn right, I'm a flirt.
Her body was a prison, her mind was a prison. Her memories were a prison. The people she loved. She couldn't get away from the hurt of them. She could leave Eric, walk out of her apartment, walk forever if she liked, but she couldn't escape what really hurt. Tonight even the sky felt like a prison.
Raven jerks and stiffens. For a second, I think she is only surprised: Her mouth goes round, her eyes wide. Then she begins teetering backward, and I know that she is dead. Falling, falling, falling . . .
With my son, falling off his bike is usually what makes him upset, so a hug goes a long way. But girls are more complicated; my daughter will get bummed out because her friend hurt her feelings. In that case, we'll talk about it. I'll tell her that she's a great friend, and that she needs to talk to her friends about it.
You flirt with everything." She could tell that her eyes were popping-- her eyeballs actually felt cold around the edges. "You flirt with old people and babies and everybody in between.
Her feelings she hides Her dreams she can't find She's losing her mind She's falling behind She can't find her place She's losing her faith She's falling from grace She's all over the place
What else? She is so beautiful. You don’t get tired of looking at her. You never worry if she is smarter than you: You know she is. She is funny without ever being mean. I love her. I am so lucky to love her, Van Houten. You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers.
Hillary [Clinton] wins and the Republicans are gonna quickly be irrelevant. She's gonna get her Supreme Court nominee. She's gonna open the borders. The country is going to be flooded with unregistered Democrat voters, that are gonna end up voting anyway, to go along with the dead who vote.
Yeah and she's my kinda crazy The little games she plays Lord they'll never get old She's too cute to get on my last nerve The way she throws her little fits Pokin' out her lip and bitin' mine when we kiss There ain't a fight that she can't win That's my baby And she's my kinda crazy
She grabbed his arm. "Let it be, son!" she cried. "That child ain't hurt!" "Not hurt! You look into her eyes and tell me she ain't hurt!
I love her for what she has dared to be, for her hardness, her cruelty, her egoism, her perverseness, her demoniac destructiveness. She would crush me to ashes without hesitation. She is a personality created to the limit. I worship her courage to hurt, and I am willing to be sacrificed to it. She will add the sum of me to her. She will be June plus all that I contain.
of all the unusual features of Stargirl, this struck me as the most remarkable. Bad things did not stick to her. Correction: her bad things did not stick to her. If we were hurt, if we were unhappy or otherwise victimized by life, she seemed to know about it, and to care, as soon as we did. But bad things falling on her -- unkind words, nasty stares, foot blisters -- she seemed unaware of. I never saw her look in a mirror, never heard her complain. All of her feelings, all of her attentions flowed outward. She had no ego.
She closed her eyes and jumped. For a moment she felt herself hang suspended, free of everything. Then gravity took over, and she plunged toward the floor. Instinctively she pulled her arms and legs in, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. The cord pulled taut and she rebounded, flying back up before falling again. As her velocity slowed, she opened her eyes and found herself dangling at the end of the cord, about five feet above Jace. He was grinning. 'Nice', he said. 'As graceful as a falling snowflake.
My ten-year-old daughter loves gifts. She loves to give them and she loves to get them. She loves to give them when she's hurt her parents' feelings, and she loves to get them when her parents have hurt hers.
I understand everything Ronda Rousey is gonna bring that day. I don't think she's gonna be able to deal with my striking. She's gonna be really surprised when I touch her, when I connect on my punches.
She was humble and put herself down. She felt her feet were a little too big and she had a bump on her nose and a crooked tooth. But she didn't get the tooth fixed. She didn't get the nose broken and set straight. She worked with what she had.
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