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“What flavor of Asian are you?”
This is an insane question😭😭
HJ ✰ 🇵🇸 (inactive) liked this
A cigarette is the perfect type of perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want? —OSCAR WILDE, THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY
“That’s my third question: What is your full name?” She didn’t know what she had done, not really. She only knew that she was forcing him to do something he didn’t want to do, and that suited her fine. Roiben’s eyes darkened with fury. “Rath Roiben Rye, much may the knowledge please you.” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s a nice name.” “You are too clever by half. Too clever for your own good, I think.” “Kiss my ass, Rath Roiben Rye.”
Crippled things are always more beautiful. It’s the flaw that brings out beauty.”
You can break a thing, but you cannot always guide it afterward into the shape you want.
“Horror and doubt distract his troubled thoughts and from the bottom stir the Hell within him, for within him Hell he brings, and round about him, nor from Hell one step more than from himself can fly by change of place,” he quoted.
The twilight holds as many truths as the dawn, perhaps more, since they are less easily perceived.
Nor from hell one step more than from himself can fly.
A word is dead When it is said Some say. I say it just Begins to live That day.
“Cut me and I weep tears as red as my flesh, yet my heart is made of stone. Pray tell, mortal girl, what am I?”
“What belongs to you, yet others use it more than you do?”
What belongs to you, yet others use it more than you do? Your name.
I wouldn't have guessed that tbh
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. —WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, SONNET CXLVII
Roiben looked over from where he was braced against the dash. “How many times have you driven?” “Never,” Kaye growled. “Never?” “I’m not old enough yet.” She giggled at that, but it came out a little high-pitched, almost hysterical. She put her foot on the gas more gently, and the car responded better. Turning the wheel, she began to steer toward the street.
“I’m here because you are kind and lovely and terribly, terribly brave,” he said, voice pitched low. “And because I want to be.”
Better to reign in Hell, then to serve in Heav’n. —JOHN MILTON, PARADISE LOST (BOOK I)
