A Quote by Kara Lindsay

I loved Belle in 'Beauty and the Beast.' I just wanted to be her. I'm a brunette, so I think I kind of cling to all those princesses that have brown hair. I just wanted to be them.
Beauty and the Beast seemed like it all was really brown. The whole thing was just so brown and orange and yellow, like Burger King or something. I don't think I would have liked Beauty and the Beast at any age.
Being with Mary was different because...he wasn't the only one who wanted to make love to her. The beast wanted her, too. The beast wanted out so it could take her.
I always loved Belle from 'Beauty and the Beast'. I always thought I looked like her, so I dressed like her for every Halloween.
In stories like Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast, they always say the heroine is 'as good as she is beautiful.' I wondered if people just wanted that to be true, wanted the beautiful to be good. I wondered if they wanted the ugly to be bad because then they wouldn't have to feel bad for them.
I started getting tattoos, and the hair would grow back out and grow over a nice piece of artwork that I really wanted to show, and it just became one of those things. I can't stand the hair on my body. I just wanted it gone. It's just a better feeling for me.
I had been with a guy for seven years and I was done with that. I wanted to reinvent my whole life and change my hair - I'd had brown, straight extensions forever - and I just wanted to get rid of that, to shed skin, and really just be independent.
I wanted to be Cher for a long time, but not for the singing. I just thought she was so cool. I wanted her long hair, and I wanted to weigh five pounds.
he used to think that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise, but it was all pretty difficult. He wanted to be loved, too, if he could fit it in.
I felt that there could be some anger. There could be some frustration that he has the tendency to take over the room, but I wanted all of those things to show in the grays of her hair and the fact that her hips are much wider than they probably were when she met him. I wanted it to show in the fact that her hair is not done up all the time. I wanted it to be a part of that every day that wasn't in your face. Because then for me, that's overacting. To me, that's not "being." I wanted Rose [in "Fences"] to be many things.
I mean I always wanted to get tattoos, that's why I got them kind of fast. Because I already knew what I wanted and kind of where I wanted to put everything at, just had to wait for the right time.
Thus I progressed on the surface of life, in the realm of words as it were, never in reality. All those books barely read, those friends barely loved, those cities barely visited, those women barely possessed! I went through the gestures out of boredom or absent-mindedness. Then came human beings; they wanted to cling, but there was nothing to cling to, and that was unfortunate--for them. As for me, I forgot. I never remembered anything but myself.
I don’t want to be a Princess,” she said finally. “You can’t make me be one.” She knew very well what became of Princesses, as Princesses often get books written about them. Either terrible things happened to them, such as kidnappings and curses and pricking fingers and getting poisoned and locked up in towers, or else they just waited around till the Prince finished with the story and got around to marrying her. Either way, September wanted nothing to do with Princessing.
I listened more than I asked. There's a lot of information online, so many Youtube videos, countless interviews with all those obvious questions that were all answered for me. I just wanted to absorb her essence. I wanted to see the details, she has such mad style. I just wanted to see - the way she communicates with her hands, these gestures, her smile, how she moves through space.
It's true that 'Lords of the Sith' has a lesbian character. Her orientation is a characteristic in the same way as is her brunette hair. It just fit with my conception of her.
He loved her for being so beautiful, and he hated her for it. He loved how she put shiny stuff on her lips for him, and he also reviled her for it. He wanted her to walk home alone, and he wanted to run after her and grab her up before she could take another step.
Linda was nine then, as I was, but we were in love...it had all the shadings and complexities of mature adult love and maybe more, because there were not yet words for it, and because it was not yet fixed to comparisons or chronologies or the ways by which adults measure such things...I just loved her. Even then, at nine years old, I wanted to live inside her body. I wanted to melt into her bones -- that kind of love.
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