A Quote by Suzanne Collins

No more kisses for you, until you have eaten ! — © Suzanne Collins
No more kisses for you, until you have eaten !
I have had passionate kisses and fierce ones, kisses so sweet they tasted like pure honey and kisses that cut like knives, but until this moment, I’ve never had one that said both hello and good-bye.
I could have kisses like that for the rest of my life. Kisses that don't know who I am. Kisses that make me feel more and less than what I am. But my finger tap tap taps on my leg and reminds me that I am not who Adam thinks I am, and it makes me want to cry. It's not that I don't deserve his kiss. It's that the person I am can never really share a life, a soul, with the person he is.
I've eaten weird things through the course of my life. I've eaten wild game, I've eaten possum - possum's no good.
My childhood memories are filled with hugs and kisses from both my mum and dad. My mum has a thing about kissing you an odd number of times: if she kisses you once, all good, but if she kisses you twice, then you know another one has to follow and, weirdly, she tends to go for the forehead.
He kisses her. She kisses him. They kiss.
There are those of us who are always about to live. We are waiting until things change, until there is more time, until we are less tired, until we get a promotion, until we settle down / until, until, until. It always seems as if there is some major event that must occur in our lives before we begin living.
There are two ways to reach me: by way of kisses or by way of the imagination. But there is a hierarchy: the kisses alone don't work.
To caress the serpent that devours us, until it has eaten away our heart.
Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire.
People never know each other until they have eaten a certain amount of salt together.
Kisses open doors, I've noticed. That one gesture can unlock secrets, ease open feelings. It can't be prevented--these kisses just are. It's how they work. They break into basements you never knew you had.
Farms, whether small or large, are places where slaves are kept. The animals are fattened up to be eaten, or exploited for their ability to make honey or milk, or for their fur, wool or body parts; they are kept as breeders to produce more animals who can in turn be exploited and ultimately sold, slaughtered, and eaten.
Everyone wanted to be eaten. It seems like it's a badge of honor to have that on your IMDb account when it says, 'Man No. 2 eaten in 'Sharknado.'
But what we know, we who are either observers of a business we once were in and loved, or are people within it now, our business as a whole, when it is not obsessed with the business of business, is eaten up with a form of cultural conservatism which is truly amazing. Indeed, more often than not it is eaten up with pure reactionary-ism.
I have but one rule at my table. You may leave your cabbage, but you'll sit still and behave until I've eaten mine.
Sunsets and death; death and therefore kisses, kisses and consequently birth and then death for yet another generation of sunset watchers.
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