A Quote by Kiersten White
So, thanks,” Vivian said. “For what?” I looked up at her, confused. “For being stupid enough to love your crazy, murdering lunatic of a sister and being such a pathetic dork that I couldn’t help but love you, too
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Ah, Evelyn and Vivian, I love you both, I love you for your sad lives, the empty misery of your coming home at dawn. You too are alone, but you are not like Arturo Bandini, who is neither fish, fowl nor good red herring. So have your champagne, because I love you both, and you too, Vivian, even if your mouth looks like it had been dug out with raw fingernails and your old child's eyes swim in blood written like mad sonnets.
I do understand what love is, and that is one of the reasons I can never again be a Christian. Love is not self denial. Love is not blood and suffering. Love is not murdering your son to appease your own vanity. Love is not hatred or wrath, consigning billions of people to eternal torture because they have offended your ego or disobeyed your rules. Love is not obedience, conformity, or submission. It is a counterfeit love that is contingent upon authority, punishment, or reward. True love is respect and admiration, compassion and kindness, freely given by a healthy, unafraid human being.
We love to be athletic, but at the same time, we love to entertain. So my sister was actually looking to play pro soccer in Italy, and I convinced her. I said, 'Please, there's this thing called WWE Diva Search. I really want to go. I think we can do this.' And sure enough, they gave my sister and me a shot.
I love being a mother. I loved being a daughter, a sister, a wife. I love being a woman with men. I love having given birth.
I’d like to. Problem is, I’m not stupid.” “You act stupid.” “Right. Thanks for that. For your information, there’s a difference between acting stupid and being stupid.” “It’s a fine line, but someone has to draw it.
I held his gaze. I could see the storm in his eyes. I knew he was confused. I could see the fear. Then there was the love. I saw it. The fierceness in his eyes. I believed it. I could see it clearly. But it was too late now. The love wasn't enough. Everyone always said that love was enough. It wasn't. Not when your soul was shattered.
You're beautiful, every part of you. I love your hair, the way it looks, the way it feels. I love touching it, smelling it. I love the way you wrinkle your nose when you laugh. It makes me laugh, too, every time. And I love watching you eat. Sometimes you can't shovel it in fast enough, but when you get interested in a conversation, you forget there's anything in front of you. God knows, I love making love with you. I can't even talk about that without wanting you. I love your pathetic attachment to those seniors. I love how hard you work.
Oh there's so many, but the one that I would love to see, that I would love to go up against, is Beth Phoenix. I would love for her to return. It would be something for me, kind of like a a childhood thing, growing up seeing her being such a dominant woman. I would love for her to show up and be in the ring with her.
Its a fact of being in love that we often pay no attention whatsoever to the substance of what a lover says, while being intoxicated to ecstasy by the way it's said. I was in love with her eyes, but I didn't read them. I loved her voice, but I didn't really hear the fear & the anguish in it.
Tell me, enigmatical man, whom do you love best, your father, Your mother, your sister, or your brother? I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother. Your friends? Now you use a word whose meaning I have never known. Your country? I do not know in what latitude it lies. Beauty? I could indeed love her, Goddess and Immortal. Gold? I hate it as you hate God. Then, what do you love, extraordinary stranger? I love the clouds the clouds that pass up there Up there the wonderful clouds!
... you looked around and saw everybody either married or busy and happy and thinking and being creative, and you felt scared, sick, lethargic, worst of all, not wanting to cope. You saw visions of yourself in a straightjacket, and a drain on the family, murdering your mother in actuality, killing the edifice of love and respect built up over the years in the hearts of other people.
You've never been in love," she said. "You don't understand." "If being in love means giving up your freedom, not to mention your opportunities," Caitlin said, "Then I haven't missed anything.
I've always wanted to have the ability to do what I want to do. And there are so many things that I want to do because I love acting, I love directing, I love producing, I love being a mother, I love being a wife. If I had to choose one, just would put me in the crazy house.
When you're told there's no way you can marry the woman you love and your only hope of being near her is to marry her sister, wouldn't you do the same?
I love everything. I love being the empathetic characters. I love being the villains. I think it's like when we're kids, we like to play all kinds of crazy characters and dress up.
Because I love you," Iain said simply. "I always have. I love your bad temper. I love your jealous streak. I love your strength and pigheadedness. And I know you love me. And sometimes love makes people go a little crazy. The insanity won't last forever...I hope.
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