A Quote by Vladimir Nabokov

…She was, obviously, one of those women whose polished words may reflect a book club or bridge club, or any other deadly conventionality, but never her soul.
Obviously, stability is needed in any club for the club to develop.
When my mother read 'The Joy Luck Club', she was always complaining to me how she had to tell her friends that, no, she was not the mother or any of the mothers in the book.
In her heart she is a mourner for those who have not survived. In her soul she is a warrior for those who are now as she was then. In her life she is both celebrant and proof of women's capacity and will to survive, to become, to act, to change self and society. And each year she is stronger and there are more of her.
My best friend was crazy about Culture Club. She had posters everywhere. She joined the fan club. She knew everything about them. No one else sounds like Boy George, and I have great memories of singing along in her bedroom.
Being the only female in what was basically a boys’ club must have been difficult for her. Miraculously, she didn’t compensate by becoming hard or quarrelsome. She was still a girl, a slight lovely girl who lay in bed and ate chocolates, a girl whose hair smelled like hyacinth and whose scarves fluttered jauntily in the breeze. But strange and marvelous as she was, a wisp of silk in a forest of black wool, she was not the fragile creature one would have her seem.
It's difficult to say with words what Manchester United means for me. For anyone. It's amazing to play for this club, with the history of this club, for the fans, for everything. It's amazing to be part of this club.
You know a lot of times you'll find girls in a club are jaded to the other girls in the club. There's a nasty vibe between the chicks in the club. It's like a pretty girl can't look at another pretty girl and say Wow she's pretty.
River is a fantastic club that goes beyond just football. They offer so many sports and activities within the club. There are schools for young players, and its DNA can be identified by every other club in Argentina.
I'm an avid bridge player. I usually go to the local bridge club three or four times a week. I've always been a game-player, and I think bridge is one of the greatest games ever invented. It's too bad that not many young people play it any more.
I think that the reason my records are able to live forever in the club is because I actually like to be in the club. I don't go to the club to do VIP or get bottles or nothin' - I go to the club, I enjoy the people, I see what the people are vibin' off, and I see what makes me go crazy in the club also, and that has a lot of influence on what I bring to the table when I'm thinking of making a big club record.
Comedy is a funny thing, and it's really not like any other art form in that it's very specialized and varied in it's content, but generic in it's title. You would never go to a club just to see "Live music," you would go to a jazz club to see jazz, a blues club to see blues, etc. But when you go to see "standup comedy," if you don't know the performers material, you really don't have any idea what you're gonna get.
I'm looking for a writer who doesn't know where the sentence is leading her; a writer who starts with her obsessions and whose heart is bursting with love, a writer sly enough to give the slip to her secret police, the ones who know her so well, the ones with the power to accuse and condemn in the blink of an eye. It's all right that she doesn't know what she's thinking until she writes it, as if the words already exist somewhere and draw her to them. She may not know how she got there, but she knows when she's arrived.
Maybe just as many women writers as male writers could be billed as the next great American writer by their publisher. Maybe book criticism sections could review an equal amount of female and male writers. Maybe Oprah could start putting some books by women authors in her book club, since most of her audience is women.
I had other interesting offers, but for me, it had to be a top club. When you look at Arsenal, with a fantastic manager, good environment, and never any bad press surrounding the club, they are playing attractive football and have a great stadium with great fans.
It was a Friday night, she was at a club, and a good-looking man was currently giving her the I-want-to-take-you-home-and-I-hope-I-last-longer-than-five-minutes look… and she was thinking about pie, a young adult book, and feeding her cat. She was so turning into the cat lady at twenty-seven. Sweet.
Her voice was as rough as sandpaper. As long as Blomkvist lived, he would never forget her face as she went on the attack. Her teeth were bared like a beast of prey. Her eyes were glittering, black as coal. She moved with the lightning speed of a tarantula and seemed totally focus on her prey as she swung the club again, striking Martin in the ribs.
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