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“If you want to sing,
sing like today is your last.
If you want to dance,
dance like today is your last.
If you want to laugh,
laugh like today is your last.
If birds sing without worrying
about who is listening to them,
and monkeys dance without worrying
about who is watching them,
and hyenas laugh without worrying
about who is mocking them,
then you too must do what you do best
without worrying about who is ridiculing you.”
Inspiring Quotes
Success Quotes
Motivational Quotations
Africa Quotes
Haters Quotes
African Philosophy Quotes
Matshona Dhliwayo Quotes
Guru Quotations
African Philosopher Quotes
Solomonology Quotes
The Red Scrolls of Magic
“It’s not being a sass-monkey that I object to. That I like. It’s the joyless attitude. One of the chief pleasures of life is mocking others, so occasionally show some glee about doing it. Have some joie de vivre.” “I’m undead,” said Raphael. “What about joie de unvivre?”
Magnus Bane
Banter
Sass
Raphael Santiago
Shadohunters
“When you are bad at what you do,
people criticize you.
When you are average at what you do,
people criticize you.
When you are good at what you do,
people still criticize you.
Therefore, don’t waste your life trying to please anyone.
If birds sing without worrying about who is listening to them,
and monkeys dance without worrying about who is watching them,
and hyenas laugh without worrying about who is mocking them,
then you too must do what you do best without worrying about who is ridiculing you.”
Motivational Quotes
Inspiring Quotes
Motivational Quotes For Women
Motivational Quotations
Criticism Quotes
Haters Quotes
African Philosophy Quotes
Matshona Dhliwayo Quotes
African Philosopher Quotes
Solomonology Quotes
Simulacra and Simulation
“Folkloric dances in the metro, innumerable campaigns for security, the slogan “tomorrow I work” accompanied by a smile formerly reserved for leisure time, and the advertising sequence for the election to the Prud-hommes (an industrial tribunal): “I don’t let anyone choose for me”—an Ubuesque slogan, one that rang so spectacularly falsely, with a mocking liberty, that of proving the social while denying it. It is not by chance that advertising, after having, for a long time, carried an implicit ultimatum of an economic kind, fundamentally saying and repeating incessantly, “I buy, I consume, I take pleasure,” today repeats in other forms, “I vote, I participate, I am present, I am concerned”—mirror of a paradoxical mockery, mirror of the indifference of all public signification.”
Propaganda
Advertising
Corporate Social Responsibility
Mockingjay
“Don’t let him take you from me.
Peeta’s panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. No. I don’t want to… I clench his hands to the point of pain. Stay with me. His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. “Always,” he murmurs.”
Peeta And Katniss
A Clash of Kings
“Tyrion turned to Sansa. "My lady, I am sorry for your losses. Truly, the gods are cruel."
Sansa could not think of a word to say to him. How could he be sorry for her losses? Was he mocking her? It wasn't the gods who'd been cruel, it was Joffrey.”
Sansa Stark
Joffrey Baratheon
Marrying Winterborne
“Realizing that he was waiting for an answer, she replied with a touch of impishness, "Aye."
After a blink of surprise, Rhys hauled her up into his lap. His eyes glinted with amusement. "Mocking my accent, are you?"
"No." A breathless giggle escaped her. "I like it. Very much."
"Do you, then?" His tone had deepened. "I'll have to send you inside, now soon. Give me a kiss,
cariad
. One to make up for all the kisses I would have had from you tonight."
She pressed her mouth to his, and his lips parted, letting her explore him with little flirting tastes. Realizing that he was letting her take the lead, she nudged him more fully open, enjoying the firm silken texture of his mouth. Tentatively she changed the angle of the kiss, and the fit was so lush and delicious that she locked her mouth onto his. She wanted to stay like this forever, caught in his lap with the mass of her skirts bunched all around them, her bottom sinking into the space between his muscular thighs. Gripping his shoulders, she hugged herself closer to the hard contours of his body.
His chest moved in a forceful breath or two, like pumps from fireplace bellows, and he broke the kiss with a groan. A shaken laugh escaped him as her mouth continued to seek his. "No- Helen- ah, how you please me- we have to stop." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Before I take you here in this carriage."
Befuddled, Helen asked, "It can be done in a carriage?"
His color heightened, and he closed his eyes briefly, as if he'd been pushed to the limit of his endurance. "Aye."
"But how-"
"Don't ask me to explain, or I might end up showing you.”
Kissing
Helen And Rhys
Devil in Spring
“I think if you wanted a peaceful marriage and orderly household, you should have proposed to any one of the well-bred simpletons who've been dangled in front of you for years. Ivo's right: Pandora is a different kind of girl. Strange and marvelous. I wouldn't dare predict-" She broke off as she saw him staring at Pandora's distant form. "Lunkhead, you're not even listening. You've already decided to marry her, and damn the consequences."
"It wasn't even a decision," Gabriel said, baffled and surly. "I can't think of one good reason to justify why I want her so bloody badly."
Phoebe smiled, gazing toward the water. "Have I ever told you what Henry said when he proposed, even knowing how little time we would have together? 'Marriage is far too important a matter to be decided with reason.' He was right, of course."
Gabriel took up a handful of warm, dry sand and let it sift through his fingers. "The Ravenels will sooner weather a scandal than force her to marry. And as you probably overheard, she objects not only to me, but the institution of marriage itself."
"How could anyone resist you?" Phoebe asked, half-mocking, half-sincere.
He gave her a dark glance. "Apparently she has no problem. The title, the fortune, the estate, the social position... to her, they're all detractions. Somehow I have to convince her to marry me despite those things." With raw honesty, he added, "And I'm damned if I even know who I am outside of them."
"Oh, my dear..." Phoebe said tenderly. "You're the brother who taught Raphael to sail a skiff, and showed Justin how to tie his shoes. You're the man who carried Henry down to the trout stream, when he wanted to go fishing one last time." She swallowed audibly, and sighed. Digging her heels into the sand, she pushed them forward, creating a pair of trenches. "Shall I tell you what your problem is?"
"Is that a question?"
"Your problem," his sister continued, "is that you're too good at maintaining that façade of godlike perfection. You've always hated for anyone to see that you're a mere mortal. But you won't win this girl that way." She began to dust the sand from her hands. "Show her a few of your redeeming vices. She'll like you all the better for it.”
Marriage Advice
Sibling Bond
Phoebe Clare
Pandora Ravenel
Gabriel St Vincent
Henry Clare
The Quest for Christa T.
“Resurrected from the dead. If miracles could happen, this was one of them; but we no longer knew the right way to accommodate a miracle. We hardly realized that a miracle can be met other than with broken phrases and mocking looks.”
Miracle
Resurrection
Germany
Postwar
To Kill a Mockingbird
“Walter looked as if he had been raised on fish food: his eyes, as blue as Dill Harris's, were red-rimmed and watery.”
Blue Eyes
Fish Food
To Love a Dark Lord
“Yes," she said simply, waiting for him. And she held out her hands to him. They trembled slightly; she couldn't help it. He could turn his back on her, walk away, and there'd be nothing she could do. All she could do was offer herself, and wait.
The mask closed down over his face once more, and she felt despair and sorrow fill her. The pain, the need, were gone. Instead he looked at her from unreadable eyes, and his thin mouth curved in a mocking smile. "So be it," he murmured. "Far be it from me to deny a lady pleasure."
She dropped her hands , as if they burned but it was too late. He caught them, his long, strong white fingers wrapping around them. "It will be pleasure, you know," he continued, his voice low and mesmerizing.”
James Killoran
Emma And James
To Love a Dark Lord
“He reached over and with one deft gesture stripped the black ribbon from her hair, freeing it around her shoulders. "Will you dance or will you play?"
She rose abruptly, angry, though she wasn't quite sure why. He was so determined to prove himself a villain- she could hardly have expected him to admit to honorable impulses. Still, she'd half hoped for a gentle word. Silly, of course.
"Neither, my lord," she said, pushing away from the clavichord and starting past him, carefully out of reach.
She should have known better. He barely seemed to move, but her hand was caught in his. "Dancing it is," he murmured.
She had learned long ago that there was no escape from a man like Killoran. The hand holding hers was neither tight nor painful, but it was a prison as he led her through the same, intricate moves that Nathaniel had.
There was no music, no off-tune humming, no sound at all but the rhythmic swish of her black skirts against the floor. The gathering darkness, broken only by the candlelight, threw eerie shadows that danced with them, ghosts of a darker time, hovering, watching them, mimicking their footsteps, embracing them with the chill of night.
Emma sank into a deep curtsy as Killoran bowed, all mocking flourish. She stayed down. Her heart was racing, her pulses pounding, her face flushed. Without music the silent dance had been strangely, frighteningly intimate.”
Dancing
Intimate
Emma And James
Fictitious Dishes: An Album of Literature's Most Memorable Meals
“Food is prevalent in the novel (To Kill A Mockingbird), with many mentions of tempting Southern treats, including ambrosia, turnip greens, Lane cake, crackling bread, peach pickles, dewberry tarts, fried pork chops and Nehi cola.”
Southern Fiction
Harper Lee
Southern Food
To Kill A Mockingbird
To Kill a Mockingbird
“We are making a step. It's just a baby step but it's a step.”
Making Progress
Again the Magic
“What about you, Mr. Shaw?" she asked. "Are your affections engaged by someone back home?"
He shook his head at once. "I'm afraid that I share McKenna's rather skeptical view of the benefits of marriage."
"I think you will fall in love someday."
"Doubtful. I'm afraid that particular emotion is unknown to me..." Suddenly his voice faded into silence. He set his cup down as he stared off into the distance with sudden alertness.
"Mr. Shaw?" As Aline followed his gaze, she realized what he had seen- Livia, wearing a pastel flower-printed walking dress as she headed to one of the forest trails leading away from the manor. A straw bonnet adorned with a sprig of fresh daisies swung from her fingers as she held it by the ribbons.
Gideon Shaw stood so quickly that his chair threatened to topple backward. "Pardon," he said to Aline, tossing his napkin to the table. "The figment of my imagination has reappeared- and I'm going to catch her."
"Of course," Aline said, struggling not to laugh. "Good luck, Mr. Shaw."
"Thanks." He was gone in a flash, descending one side of the U-shaped stone staircase with the ease of a cat. Once he reached the terraced gardens, he cut across the lawn with long, ground-eating strides, just short of breaking into a run.
Standing to better her view of his progress, Aline couldn't suppress a mocking grin. "Why, Mr. Shaw... I thought there was nothing in life you wanted badly enough to chase after it.”
Livia And Gideon
Livia Marsden
Gideon Shaw
Again the Magic
“I wasn't trying to seduce her."
She responded with a speaking glance, and his dark brows lifted in mocking crescents. "You don't believe me?" he asked.
"No, actually. I think that she is your insurance, in case you don't succeed in bedding me.”
Aline And John
Aline Marsden
A Rogue by Any Other Name
“I must have an excellent connection at a nearby hothouse."
"You do. My younger sister- Philippa- grows the loveliest flowers, year-round, at Needham Manor."
He leaned forward, mocking in his whisper. "The first rule of falsehoods is that we only tell them about ourselves, darling."
She watched the spindly birch trees at the road's edge fading into the white snow beyond. "It's not a falsehood. Pippa is a horticulturist.”
Pippa Marbury
Philippa Marbury
Horticulturalist
"To Kill A Mockingbird" A4 Gcse
“I turned to go home. Street lights winked down the street all the way to town. I
had never seen our neighborhood from this angle. There were Miss Maudie’s,
Miss Stephanie’s—there was our house, I could see the porch swing—Miss
Rachel’s house was beyond us, plainly visible. I could even see Mrs. Dubose’s.
I looked behind me. To the left of the brown door was a long shuttered window. I
walked to it, stood in front of it, and turned around. In daylight, I thought, you
could see to the postoffice corner.
Daylight… in my mind, the night faded. It was daytime and the neighborhood
was busy. Miss Stephanie Crawford crossed the street to tell the latest to Miss
Rachel. Miss Maudie bent over her azaleas. It was summertime, and two children
scampered down the sidewalk toward a man approaching in the distance. The man
waved, and the children raced each other to him.
It was still summertime, and the children came closer. A boy trudged down the
sidewalk dragging a fishingpole behind him. A man stood waiting with his hands
on his hips. Summertime, and his children played in the front yard with their
friend, enacting a strange little drama of their own invention.
It was fall, and his children fought on the sidewalk in front of Mrs. Dubose’s. The
boy helped his sister to her feet, and they made their way home. Fall, and his
children trotted to and fro around the corner, the day’s woes and triumphs on their
faces. They stopped at an oak tree, delighted, puzzled, apprehensive.
Winter, and his children shivered at the front gate, silhouetted against a blazing
house. Winter, and a man walked into the street, dropped his glasses, and shot a
dog.
Summer, and he watched his children’s heart break. Autumn again, and Boo’s
children needed him.
Atticus was right. One time he said you never really know a man until you stand
in his shoes and walk around in them. Just standing on the Radley porch was
enough.”
Inspirational
Sad
End
Sentimental
Scout
Harper Lee
To Kill A Mockingbird
Boo Radley
Dreaming of You
“Sara and I are both leaving within the hour. In my carriage."
"Together?" Lily looked startled, and then shook her head. "You can't. Don't you realize what people would say when they discovered that both of you were gone?"
"Nothing they haven't said already." He slid a proprietary arm around Sara's shoulders.
Lily drew her slight frame up as tall as possible, adopting the brisk tone of a chaperone defending her charge. "Where are you planning to go?"
Derek smiled slowly. "None of your damn business, gypsy." Ignoring Lily's sputtering protests, he stared down at his fiancée and raised his brows mockingly.
As she met his glinting green eyes, Sara realized he intended to take her to London and keep her with him for the night. Her nerves jangled with alarm. "I'm not certain it's advisable-" she began diplomatically, but he cut her off.
"Go pack your things."
Oh, the arrogance. But it was part of why she loved him, his single-minded determination to get what he wanted. Only blind, bullying stubbornness had enabled him to climb from the gutter. Now that the prospect of marrying her was within his reach, he planned to ensure it by well and truly compromising her. After tonight there would be no turning back. Sara stared at the broad expanse of his chest, conscious of the weight of his arm across her shoulders, the gentle stroke of his thumb and forefinger against her neck. Well... reprehensible as it was, she wanted the same thing.
"Derek," Lily said in a steely voice, "I won't allow you to force this poor child into something she's not prepared for-"
"She's not a child." His fingers tightened on the back of Sara's neck. "Tell her what you want, Sara."
Helplessly Sara raised her head and looked at Lily, her face turning a deep shade of crimson. "I... I'm leaving with Mr. Craven." She didn't have to look at Derek to know that he was smiling in satisfaction.”
Sara And Derek
Lily Lawson
Sara Fielding
Derek Craven
Compromisation
To Kill a Mockingbird
“Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corncribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corncribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.”
To Kill A Mockingbird
Tempt Me at Twilight
“Do you like novels?"
He shook his head. "I usually read for information, not entertainment."
"You disapprove of reading for pleasure?"
"No, it's just that I don't often manage to find the time for it."
"Perhaps that's why you don't sleep well. You need an interlude between work and bedtime."
There was a dry, perfectly timed pause before Harry asked, "What would you suggest?"
Aware of his meaning, Poppy felt a bloom of color emerge from head to toe. Harry seemed to enjoy her discomfiture, not in a mocking way, but as if he found her charming.”
Poppy And Harry
Interlude
Hello Stranger
“As delightful as Dr. Gibson is, she doesn't have the makings of a farmwife."
Ethan's brows lifted. "Are you thinking about taking a wife?"
West shrugged. "The nights can be long and quiet in the country," he admitted. "If I found a woman who was an interesting companion and attractive enough to bed... yes, I'd consider marrying her." He paused. "Better yet if she were educated. A sense of humor would be icing on the cake. Red hair isn't a requirement, but I do have a fatal weakness for it." West's mouth twisted with a self-mocking grin. "Of course, she'd have to be willing to overlook the fact that I was an undisciplined and obnoxious swill-tub until about three years ago." A nearly imperceptible look of bitterness flashed across his face before he masked it.
"Who is she?" Ethan asked softly.
"No one. An imaginary woman." Averting his gaze, West used the toe of his boot to flick a loose pebble to the side of the drive. "Who happens to despise me," he muttered.
Ethan regarded him with sympathetic amusement. "You might be able to change her opinion."
"Only if I could travel back in time and beat my former self to a pulp.”
Phoebe And West
Phoebe Clare
West Ravenel
Devils Daughter
Hello Stranger
“In case you weren't aware, my good fellow, you are in the company of one of the most skilled and accomplished women in England. In fact, I would say Dr. Gibson has a male brain in a woman's body."
Garrett grinned wryly at his last comment, which she knew had been intended as a compliment. "Thank you, Doctor."
"Despite my short acquaintance with Dr. Gibson," Ethan said, "her brain seems entirely female to me." The remark caused Garrett to stiffen slightly, as she expected a mocking comment to follow. Something about how a woman's mind was changeable, or shallow, the usual clichés. But as Ethan continued, there was no hint of teasing in his tone. "Keen, subtle, and quick, with an intellect strengthened by compassion- yes, she has a woman's mind."
Thrown off guard, Garrett stared at him with a touch of wonder.
In that brief, private moment, Ethan looked as if he really did prefer her to everything else in the world. As if he saw all of her, the good and the bad, and wouldn't change a thing about her.”
Intelligent Woman
Ethan Ransom
Garrett Gibson
Garrett And Ethan
Mind Of Women
Womans Brain
Devil in Spring
“There was a moment of stillness before something in him seemed to snap. she pounced on her with a sort of tigerish delight, and clamped his mouth over hers. She squeaked in surprise, wriggling in his hold, but his arms clamped around her easily, his muscles as solid as oak. He kissed her possessively, almost roughly at first, gentling by voluptuous degrees. Her body surrendered without giving her brain a chance to object, applying itself eagerly to every available inch of him. The luxurious male heat and hardness of him satisfied a wrenching hunger she hadn't been aware of until now. It also gave her the close-but-not-close-enough feeling she remembered from before. Oh, how confusing this was, this maddening need to crawl inside his clothes, practically inside his skin.
She let her fingertips wander over his cheeks and jaw, the neat shape of his ears, the taut smoothness of his neck. When he offered no objection, she sank her fingers into his thick, vibrant hair and sighed in satisfaction. He searched for her tongue, teased and stroked intimately until her heart pounded in a tumult of longing, and a sweet, empty ache spread all through her. Dimly aware that she was going to lose control, that she was on the verge of swooning, or assaulting him again, she managed to break the kiss and turn her face away with a gasp.
"Don't," she said weakly.
His lips grazed along her jawline, his breath rushing unsteadily against her skin. "Why? Are you still worried about Australian pox?"
Slowly it registered that they were no longer standing. Gabriel was sitting on the ground with his back against the grass-covered mound, and- heaven help her- she was in his lap. She glanced around them in bewilderment. How had this happened?
"No," she said, bewildered and perturbed, "but I just remembered that you said I kissed like a pirate."
Gabriel looked blank for a moment. "Oh, that. That was a compliment."
Pandora scowled. "It would only be a compliment if I had a beard and a peg leg."
Setting his mouth sternly against a faint quiver, Gabriel smoothed her hair tenderly. "Forgive my poor choice of words. What I meant to convey was that I found your enthusiasm charming."
"Did you?" Pandora turned crimson. Dropping her head to his shoulder, she said in a muffled voice, "Because I've worried for the past three days that I did it wrong."
"No, never, darling." Gabriel sat up a little and cradled her more closely to him. Nuzzling her cheek, he whispered, "Isn't it obvious that everything about you gives me pleasure?"
"Even when I plunder and pillage like a Viking?" she asked darkly.
"Pirate. Yes, especially then." His lips moved softly along the rim of her right ear. "My sweet, there are altogether too many respectable ladies in the world. The supply has far exceeded the demand. But there's an appalling shortage of attractive pirates, and you do seem to have a gift for plundering and ravishing. I think we've found you're true calling."
"You're mocking me," Pandora said in resignation, and jumped a little as she felt his teeth gently nip her earlobe.
Smiling, Gabriel took her head between his hands and looked into her eyes. "Your kiss thrilled me beyond imagining," he whispered. "Every night for the rest of my life, I'll dream of the afternoon in the holloway, when I was waylaid by a dark-haired beauty who devastated me with the heat of a thousand troubled stars, and left my soul in cinders. Even when I'm an old man, and my brain has fallen to wrack and ruin, I'll remember the sweet fire of your lips under mine, and I'll say to myself, 'Now, that was a kiss.'"
Silver-tongued devil
, Pandora thought, unable to hold back a crooked grin. Only yesterday, she'd heard Gabriel affectionately mock his father, who was fond of expressing himself with elaborate, almost labyrinthine turns of phrase. Clearly the gift had been passed down to his son.”
Kissing
Enthusiasm
Sebastian St Vincent
Pirate
Pandora And Gabriel
Silver Tongued Devil
Like Father Like Son
Scandalous
“My, my, my," he drawled in that gravelly voice that brought her body to full attention. "This Kat has claws."
Heat filled her face again, but it wasn't from embarrassment this time. No, some other emotion made her blush, though she had no name for it, or for the shaking that accompanied it. This man was mocking her, but still all she could do was stare into his gray eyes and be sucked in by his presence.”
Katherine And Dominic
Dominic Mallory
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