Likes Quotes (page 670)
Most men would never tell a girl her Pikachu smells like a crab cake. It's just not done. But they would have no qualms about telling their guy friends. Similarly, if you're a guy and you pull your pants down, and the girl you're with immediately stats text messaging her friends, you have a small penis. Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea
Chelsea Handler
![C. S. Lewis quote: "Please,' she said, 'Your so beautiful. You may eat me if you..."](/pic/332008/600x316/quotation-c-s-lewis-please-she-said-your-so-beautiful-you-may-eat-me.jpg)
In addition to calling each other standard names like bitch and whore, the Finches incorporated Freud's stages of psycho-sexual development into their arsenal of invectives."You're so oral. You'll never make it to genital! The most you can ever hope for is to reach anal, you immature, frigid old maid," Natalie yelled."Stop antagonizing me," Hope shouted. "Just stop transfering all this anger onto me."Your avoidance tactics are not giong to work, Miss Hope," Natalie warned. "I'm not going...
Augusten Burroughs
![James Russell Lowell quote: "Whatever you may be sure of, be sure of this, that you are..."](/pic/331988/600x316/quotation-james-russell-lowell-whatever-you-may-be-sure-of-be-sure-of.jpg)
Beauty is like a train that ceaselessly roars out of the Gare de Lyon and which I know will never leave, which has not left. It consists of jolts and shocks, many of which do not have much importance, but which we know are destined to produce one Shock, which does...The human heart, beautiful as a seismograph...Beauty will be CONVULSIVE or will not be at all.
Andre Breton
Soon the child’s clear eye is clouded over by ideas and opinions, preconceptions, and abstractions. Simple free being becomes encrusted with the burdensome armor of the ego. Not until years later does an instinct come that a vital sense of mystery has been withdrawn. The sun glints through the pines and the heart is pierced in a moment of beauty and strange pain, like a memory of paradise. After that day, we become seekers.
Peter Matthiessen
Whenever someone who knows you disappears, you lose one version of yourself. Yourself as you were seen, as you were judged to be. Lover or enemy, mother or friend, those who know us construct us, and their several knowings slant the different facets of our characters like diamond-cutter's tools. Each such loss is a step leading to the grave, where all versions blend and end.
Salman Rushdie