A Quote by Joan D. Vinge

Moon is also a naive native girl when she sets out for Carbuncle. — © Joan D. Vinge
Moon is also a naive native girl when she sets out for Carbuncle.
Oh my god, Jenny McCarthy is the coolest chick. She's the kind of girl you can play volleyball with and she's diggin' it out in the dirt. She's the girl that's playing softball - not worrying about breaking a nail. She's out there breaking nails and diving at second. And then, she's going to out-drink you at the bar.
There's a misconception about girls accusing people of sexual assault. There's this sense of, Well, she might be lying, she might be telling the truth, it's really a he-said, she-said. But it turns out if you study the cases, something like 97 percent of the cases are actually true. And you think about it common sense - wise: Why would a young girl or a woman bring this attention upon herself? It's nonsensical. It sets up a binary equation where, in fact, if a girl makes that accusation, she's usually not lying about it.
She was a girl and she was a queen and back in the mists she was a woman who had seized the moon from the sky and drunk its light so that she would never die. And she never had.
I could distinguish the shape of her bosom, her arms, her thighs, just as I remember them now, just as now, when the Moon has become that flat, remote circle, I still look for her as soon as the first sliver appears in the sky, and the more it waxes, the more clearly I imagine I can see her, her or something of her, but only her, in a hundred, a thousand different vistas, she who makes the Moon the Moon and, whenever she is full, sets the dogs to howling all night long, and me with them.
One of the most unfortunate things I see when identifying youth players is the girl who is told over the years how great she is. By the time she's a high school freshman, she starts to believe it. By her senior year, she's fizzled out. Then there's her counterpart: the girl waiting in the wings who quietly and with determination decides she's going to make something of herself. Invariably, this humble, hardworking girl is the one who becomes the real player.
Death has nothing to do with going away.The sun sets The moon sets But they are not gone.
The Girl With Many Eyes One day in the park I had quite a surprise. I met a girl who had many eyes. She was really quite pretty (and also quite shocking!) and I noticed she had a mouth, so we ended up talking. We talked about flowers, and her poetry classes, and the problems she'd have if she ever wore glasses. It's great to know a girl who has so many eyes, but you really get wet when she breaks down and cries.
Our Betty Cooper is still the girl next door - she literally lives next to Archie. And she's the blonde all-American girl; she's so sweet and forgiving, gives people the benefit of the doubt and second chances, wears her heart on her sleeve. But she's also incredibly broken on the inside, for many different reasons.
After the last screening [of "Selling Isobel" ] an 18-year-old girl came up to me and said, "Oh my God, I'm so naïve." I said, "No, you're not, you're just young." And she's so grateful for having seen it, because she's an actress and from now on she's going to take a friend with her to auditions and let her mom know exactly where she's going. That's a job done right there.
The girl of the period sets up to be natural, and is only rude; mistakes insolence for innocence; says everything that comes first to her lips, and thinks she is gay when she is only giddy.
If she did see, I hoped she' be amazed. Amazed and thankful, because without even asking, she'd received a genuine autograph from a genuine girl from Atlanta. Not just any girl, but a girl who was, frankly, a pretty big deal. A girl who was me.
I thought Victoria Beckham was going to be one of those pop girls, but she's absolutely the complete opposite. She's a working girl. She knows what she wants. And when she doesn't know, she really prepares herself. I love this working type of women. And she's a girl from - I don't even know where she's from.
The Moon is a white strange world, great, white, soft-seeming globe in the night sky, and what she actually communicates to me across space I shall never fully know. But the Moon that pulls the tides, and the Moon that controls the menstrual periods of women, and the Moon that touches the lunatics, she is not the mere dead lump of the astronomist. . . . When we describe the Moon as dead, we are describing the deadness in ourselves. When we find space so hideously void, we are describing our own unbearable emptiness.
The girl dreams she is dangerously ill. Suddenly birds come out of her skin and cover her completely ... Swarms of gnats obscure the sun, the moon, and all the stars except one. That one start falls upon the dreamer.
I like a girl that takes pride in her appearance - looks are important to me, but it's also important she gets on with my friends and family. If my parents don't like a girl, then she's instantly a no-go.
My favorite thing to see that I've been surprised at is watching the moon rises and moon sets that just move so fast it's like it jumps off of the horizon and up and over us.
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