A Quote by Harry Styles

Truth is, I don't mind getting a black eye or broken arm for a girl as long as she's there to kiss it after. — © Harry Styles
Truth is, I don't mind getting a black eye or broken arm for a girl as long as she's there to kiss it after.
My first kiss was fourth grade, girl named Krista West. We're walking out to the black top, and I throw my arm around her. I kiss her on the cheek.
Then she yelled after the girl, 'No, we haven't seen any bald 'uns all days. But yesterday seventeen of 'em went by. Arm in arm!
But her grandmother had never suggested she could think the same of Scarlet. You'll be fine, she always said, after a skinned knee, after a broken arm, after her first youthfull heartbreak. You'll be fine, because you're strong, like me.
To be beautiful, woman enough to have a black sweater, black skirt and walk arm in arm with the man she loves.
Have I ever left the field with a broken nose, black eye? Yes, numerous times. I've had a broken nose and a few black eyes. It's part and parcel of the game, really.
The Girl of the Period, sauntering before one down Broadway, is one panorama of awful surprises from top to toe. Her clothes characterize her. She never characterizes her clothes. She is upholstered, not ornamented. She is bundled, not draped. She is puckered, not folded. She struts, she does not sweep. She has not one of the attributes of nature nor of proper art. She neither soothes the eye like a flower, nor pleases it like a picture. She wearies it like a kaleidoscope. She is a meaningless dazzle of broken effects.
A teenage girl lay asleep on the sofa, curled up under a red-and-black knitted afghan. She was on her side, with one slender arm cradling a throw cushion nestled under her head. Long wavy blond hair spread across her back and her shoulders like a cape. Even though she was sleeping, Alex could see how pretty she was, with her delicate, almost elfin features. He stood in the doorway, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest.
I didn't have the easiest childhood. I was never the popular girl in school growing up. I was always the lone black girl or the lone fat girl or the long tall girl, so that has made me more compassionate to all people. It also gave me the drive and ambition to go after my dreams in a big way.
Back as kids we used to kiss when we played truth or dare, Now she's more sophisticated, highly edu-ma-cated Not at all over-rated...I think I need a prayer To get in her boots, and it looks rather dry, I guess a twinkle in her eye is just a twinkle in her eye. Although she's crazy steppin', I'll try to stop her stride, 'Cause I won't have no more of this passin' me by.
I try to do something the audience might not have seen before. Like if I'm gonna kiss a girl I wanna kiss her like a girl has never been kissed. Like maybe I would kick her legs out from under her and catch her right before she hits the ground and then kiss her.
Aaliyah revolutionized what it was to be a young black woman in America. She made it OK to be a nerd and to be a tomboy. She made it OK to wear leather and chains. She was the first black girl with an ombre. She was so far ahead of everything and everyone. It was just who she was. She was an innovator, but she didn't even realize it.
You and I both know there's got to be some greater storyline for you than 'girl gets heart broken, was sad forever'. I think a nice one would be 'girl gets heart broken, was sad for a while but in her heartbreak she found freedom, friends, and the ability to look back and laugh at all she'd learned. She now lives her life on her own terms and still has fantastic hair.'
Maturity is a stage of life when you don't see eye to eye but can walk arm in arm.
It's... it's such a weird thing. After Garden State, so many companies wanted to make my movies, and after The Last Kiss, I realized people would make anything I was in. As long as I keep this up I'll be swimming in chubby indie girl pussy.
I was just happy the fight was over, I knew my arm was broken in the fight. I definitely wasn't going to quit - I've broken bones before and continued fighting but there was a part of me wondering how I was going to.....what strategy I was going to use, to win this fight with a broken left arm in the second and third rounds
She didn't care anymore... and she got no pleasure from the work she did, but she did it. Everything bored her. She found that when she didn't have a notebook it was hard for her to think. The thoughts came slowly, as though they had to squeeze through a tiny door to get to her, whereas when she wrote, they flowed out faster than she could put them down. She sat very stupidly with a blank mind until finall 'I feel different' came slowly to her mind. Yes, she thought, after a long pause. And then, after more time, 'Mean, I feel mean.
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