> CracKing: No need to yell. > FtLouie: I’m not yelling!!! > CracKing: You’re using excessive amounts of punctuation, and on-line, that’s like yelling.
I really liked drama and being in plays, so when I was playing a character onstage and I could act like somebody else, then I wasn't scared or nervous, but I didn't like meeting new people when I had to be myself. That was scary.
I used to draw and illustrate, but I don't do that anymore because I just like to write. I like to leave the illustrations to actual professional illustrators.
I was the kind of kid who couldn't really stop making up stories during class. I didn't do very well academically because I was always drawing these little doodles in the margins of my notebooks and I wasn't bringing home the best grades.
In high school, I wanted to be an actress. Until I got to college and took some creative writing courses. Then I decided I wanted to become a novelist.
I think we're given multiple chances to meet multiple soulmates. Sure, you could meet a soulmate in highschool. But that doesn't mean if you don't act on it, you'll never meet anyone else. You will, just at a time that's more convenient for you.
He let his mouth linger on mine, neither possessively nor sweetly... like his mouth just belonged there on mine. And he was right. It did. It always had.
Sometimes I just want to write a really intense love scene. But I can't do that in my books for teens, or parents will complain - believe me, I've tried.
I didn't even think about suggesting he take the boots off. There'd probably be a apocalypse or something.
Look, Mr. uh, Wulf I appreciate your trying to warn me about this, Ireally do. But there's no such thing as vampires. They're made-up. We writers made them up. I'm sorry we did such a good job that we made the whole world paranoid, but it's true. They're fictional. Blame Bram Stoker. He started it.
I love jezebel.com for the latest on fashion, style, and celebrity gossip. I also love gawker.com for New York celebrity sightings, and galleycat.com and trashionista.com for book news.
I don't have kids, but in many ways I feel I've had them already. I don't want to say I raised my brothers - that sounds too strong - but actually I do feel like that a bit.
It’s my own fault, really. For believing in fairy tales. Not that I ever mistook them for actual historical fact, or anything. But I did grow up believing that for every girl, there’s a prince out there somewhere. All she has to do is find him. Then it’s on with the happily ever after. So you can only imagine what happened when I found out. That my prince really IS one. A prince. No, I really mean it. He’s an actual PRINCE.
That's enough of that," Jesse said. Next thing I knew, he'd scooped me up. Only instead of carrying me to my bed and setting me down on it all romantically, you know, like guys do to girls in the movies, he just dumped me onto it, so I bounced around and would have fallen off if I hadn't grabbed the edge of the mattress. "Thanks," I said, not quite able to keep all of the sarcasm out of my voice.
You know what you sound like? A jealous girl friend. And how are things on Planet You Wish?
There are nice, funny, totally good-looking guys out there. You just have to know where to look…and apparently, where NOT to look.
Weight doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. I mean, it does if you’re a model or whatever.
Maybe you just saw what you wanted to see. Or maybe you justfelt what you wanted to feel.
Why should women have to fit into child sizes in order to be considered desirable? That is both sick and depressing.
But I’m living proof you don’t have to spend a lot in order to look great.
Home. Wow. I’m already calling it home. Well, isn’t that what any place is? Any place that you share with someone you love, I mean?
Every moment away from you feels like time spent in a sort of cell. I can think of nothing, dream of nothing, but you. Unfortunately, I will have to remain in my self-inflicted prison a bit longer, since work will keep me from meeting you tonight. I can't seem to find a way to avoid this... however, I hope this gift will make up for my unforgivable behavior. I saw this and though of you, and St. George. You have slain the dragon. Until we meet again, I am your Lucien.
Kill her for me," she said in that whiny little-girl voice. Diego took a step toward me, wearing an expression that told me he was only too happy to oblige his lady love. "Oh, what?" I said. I wasn't even scared. I didn't care anymore. The numbness in my heart had pretty much taken over my whole body. "You always do what she tells you? You know, we have a word for that now. It's called being whipped.
I felt as if the Milky Way, hovering above our heads like a celestial pitcher, had suddenly overturned, pouring suns and planets down my throat. Stars seemed to be shooting out of my finger and toes, the ends of my hair.
When something horrible happens, it's human nature to want to blame it on someone. We want someone to be held accountable, even though sometimes things just happen.
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