The more bleach in the bedsheets, the greater Chastity's impulse to roll around in them. A party would be thrown, she decided, the kind that would tell a small story in the contents of the dustpan the next morning. Detached sequins and mint leaves muddled by high heels, shrimp tales mixed in with a few shards of broken glass, a crust of bread. She rolled in her bleached sheets until they wrapped around her like a storm, and she fell asleep in the eye of it. . Amelia Gray
I wore your promise on my finger for one year I'll wear your name on my heart til I die Because you were my boy, you were my only boy forever.
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Coco J. Ginger
When male authors write love stories, the heroine tends to end up dead.
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Susan Elizabeth Phillips
I wondered if the person who really loves you is the person who knows all your stories, the person who WANTS to know all your stories.
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Gabrielle Zevin
Stories make us more alive, more human, more courageous, more loving.
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Madeleine LEngle
I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without...
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Gilda Radner
More Quotes By Amelia Gray
They don't understand it. They're not old enough to know the first instinct of irritation should be avoided in order to keep an open mind.
The more bleach in the bedsheets, the greater Chastity's impulse to roll around in them. A party would be thrown, she decided, the kind that would tell a small story in the contents of the dustpan the next morning. Detached sequins and mint leaves muddled...
Tess realized one of the great modern dating sadnesses: everyone is so used to the comforting glow of the computer screen that no one can go so far as to say "good morning" in public without being liquored up.
Today, it's possible to read both erotica and books written for children without fear of social castigation.
[Olive’s] left foot was bleeding through a wide swath of bandages onto the tarp it was resting on. The bowl next to her was full of blood. Olive looked a little pale. “I don’t think I should move, ” she said.“ What are you doing?”...
