Aries Girl Quotes

This behavior may...counteract feelings of'numbness'and depersonalization that aries duriing periods of extreme stress.-153 Girl,Interrupted

I’m fine, Ari. Read the book.” “If you’re sure?” He shook his head, lowering his gaze again. “Ari, guys aren’t like girls. When we say we’re fine we actually mean it.

I'm not the average girl from your video and I ain't built like a supermodel but I learned to love myself unconditionally because I am a queen

Minho flexed his right arm. “If these people are really the girls Aris was hanging out with, I’ll show ’em these guns of mine and they’ll go runnin’.

I wish there was a song called “Nguyen and Ari,” a little ditty about a hardworking Vietnamese girl who helps her parents withthe franchised Holiday Inn they run, and does homework in thelobby, and Ari, a hardworking Jewish boy who does volunteerwork at his grandmother’s old-age home, and they meet afterschool at Princeton Review. They help each other study for theSATs and different AP courses, and then, after months of study-ing, and mountains of flashcards, they kiss chastely upon hear-ing the news that they both got into their top college choices.This is a song teens need to inadvertently memorize. Now that’sa song I’d request at Johnny Rockets!

We become what we become because of other people, and because of what we do with whatever they throw into our lives.

Sleep: the moon still hasn't moved the width of a constellation since you were a girl. Since you have become a woman, the stars that stand above the halls of Palladios have not yet disappeared behind the domes of San Marco. But only since then has the world become the world.

He's such a jerk," I said, wanting to rant. "If I'm going to go gaga for some guy, it'll be because I want to, not because some asshat is helping me along." God how lame was that? Just shut up, Ari. Before you embarrass yourself even more. "Well, just for the record...forcing a girl to go all gaga for me isn't my style." He paused, his tone doing nothing to hide his amusement. "I like the gaga to be natural." I rolled my eyes and took off at a jog before he could see that my face had gone straight past hot to volcanic.

Funny thing, how much weaker boys are than girls.

I haven't a clue what half of it means, but I feel it, I see it, and on some level I understand it completely.

If Dante were a girl and I were not gay, I would be imagining a future for us. But there was no imagining a future. Because the world we lived in censored our imaginations and limited what was possible and what wasn't possible. There was no future for Ari and Dante.

As it is, I guess I find "Jack and Diane" a little disgusting. As a child of immigrant professionals, I can't help but notice the wasteful frivolity of it all. Why are these kids not at home doing their homework? Why aren't they setting the table for dinner or helping out around the house? Who allows their kids to hang out in parking lots? Isn't that loitering? I wish there was a song called "Nguyen & Ari," a little ditty about a hardworking Vietnamese girl who helps her parents with the franchised Holiday Inn they run, and does homework in the lobby, and Ari, a hardworking Jewish boy who does volunteer work at his grandmother's old-age home, and they meet after school at Princeton Review. They help each other study for the SATs and different AP courses, and then, after months of studying, and mountains of flashcards, they kiss chastely upon hearing the news that they both got into their top college choices. This is a song teens need to inadvertently memorize. Now that's a song I'd request at Johnny Rockets!

Who would change anything if they felt nice and comfy all the time?

You're ninety years old. What's one regret you wish you could change? That's it? That's the question, but here are the rules. You have to look for the grace of it, not the judgement, yours or anyone else's. You have to look for the answer in your passions, your art, your writing, the ocean, the faces of those you love, the ethereal things that give you joy. It has to feel light and free. If it doesn't, you're convincing yourself of the wrong decision.

She stares at me with incandescent eyes. Then her roar fills the house: ‘Those ripped away from their beloved know my wail. Having been cut from the source, they long to return.’ (Rumi’s Divan e Shams)

But the minute Ruby said what she said, the minute I heard the word lesbian, my blood started beating so fast that my pulse was all I could hear. I was not paying attention to what was flying out of Ruby’s mouth. I could only catch certain words, like girl and dyke and twisted. The skin on my chest felt hot. My ears burned. I did my best to calm myself. And when I did, when I focused on Ruby’s words, I finally heard the other piece of what she was trying to tell me. “You should probably get a better handle on your husband, by the way. He’s in Ari’s bedroom getting a blow job from some harpy from MGM.” When she said it, I did not think, Oh, my God. My husband is cheating on me. I thought, I have to find Celia.

But not unusual, for good girls sometimes come to bad ends.

Every shining jewel comes from a crushing it never knew it could survive. There's good waiting for you.

L-EVELS O-F V-ARYING E-MOTIONS BEING IN LOVE IS ALWAYS A COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP!

the girls had on enough makeup to make Elizabeth Taylor look unadorned

The only way I can bear his absence is to keep looking for his presence.

Jai pointed at the car. "Get in the car. I'm pissed at you for getting out of it in the first place." Outrage lit through her. "Hey, I'm a big girl, I can make my own decisions." "Get in the car, Ari!" Charlie yelled now, his own eyes glittering with anger. Her mouth fell open, her cheeks blazing with indignation as the two men in her life stared at her, their expressions implacable. She made a 'pfft' sound and whirled around, stomping like a child towards the car. "Too much testosterone, infuriating cavemen, need someone else to boss around, stupid jerks..." she kept muttering insults under her breath until Charlie and Jai had cleared the road.

To see the adult version of their little girl had to be startling. Ari never resembled me as closely as this precious child did. “She’s beautiful,” I spoke, feeling the tightness in my throat. “She looks like you.” “Thank you, but I was never as pretty as she is.” “She’s a terrific kid,” she said. “You’d be very proud of her.” “You’re the one that should be proud.” “We are.

Here were love letters, the youth knew. Secret love letters. Unfound, still waiting somewhere beyond the mist. A young man’s words for this girl, maybe her words for him. Their private words for each other. Somewhere in the world, these letters sat hidden still, but might, at any moment, be found and read, calling her most cherished secrets from their hiding place back into the circle of the sun.

She’s a lesbian, Evelyn.” Until that point, the sounds of the party going on around us had been muted but still distinct. But the minute Ruby said what she said, the minute I heard the word lesbian, my blood started beating so fast that my pulse was all I could hear. I was not paying attention to what was flying out of Ruby’s mouth. I could only catch certain words, like girl and dyke and twisted. The skin on my chest felt hot. My ears burned. I did my best to calm myself. And when I did, when I focused on Ruby’s words, I finally heard the other piece of what she was trying to tell me. “You should probably get a better handle on your husband, by the way. He’s in Ari’s bedroom getting a blow job from some harpy from MGM.” When she said it, I did not think, Oh, my God. My husband is cheating on me. I thought, I have to find Celia.

Di lorong sebuah rumah sakit yang telah sepi, ketika malam telah merangkul bumi, seorang anak perempuan kecil yang buta memanjatkan sepenggal doa yang mengharukan, "Kalau Tuhan Cuma mau mengabulkan satu permintaan saja, tolong kabulkan permintaan Pinta! Jangan permintaan Ari! Ari selalu berdoa supaya Pinta bisa lihat lagi. Tapi Pinta sudah lama buta. Buta terus juga nggak apa-apa. Sama saja. Tapi Ari biasanya bisa lihat. Bisa ngomong. Bisa ketawa. Bisa cerita. Tolong, Tuhan, suruh Ari bangun! Ket: Pinta adalah nama anak perempuan tsb. In the empty hospital hall, when the night had embraced the world, a blind little girl uttering a touchy pray, “If You only gonna grant one wish only, please grant Pinta wish! Don’t grant Ari’s wish! Ari always pray for Pinta to be able to see again. But Pinta have been blind for a long time. Blind forever is okay. Nothing changes. But Ari usually able to see. Able to speak. Able to laugh. Able to tell story. Please, God, told Ari to wake up! note: Pinta is the little girl name. I translate it by myself. sorry for bad grammar.

At first piecemeal, then point-blank, he let his attention be drawn to a little scene that was being acted out sublimely, unhampered by writers and directors and producers, five stories below the window and across the street. A fair-sized maple tree stood in front of the girls' private school--one of four or five trees on that fortunate side of the street--and at the moment a child of seven or eight, female, was hiding behind it. She was wearing a navy-blue reefer and a tam that was very nearly the same shade of red as the blanket on the bed in van Gogh's room at Aries. Her tam did, in fact, from Zooey's vantage point, appear not unlike a dab of paint. Some fifteen feet away from the child, her dog--a young dachshund, wearing a green leather collar and leash--was sniffing to find her, scurrying in frantic circles, his leash dragging behind him. The anguish of separation was scarcely bearable for him, and when at last he picked up his mistress's scent, it wasn't a second too soon. The joy of reunion, for both, was immense. The dachshund gave a little yelp, then cringed forward, shimmying with ecstasy, till his mistress, shouting something at him, stepped hurriedly over the wire guard surrounding the tree and picked him up. She said a number of words of praise to him, in the private argot of the game, then put him down and picked up his leash, and the two walked gaily west, toward Fifth Avenue and the Park and out of Zooey's sight. Zooey reflexively put his hand on a cross-piece between panes of glass, as if he had a mind to raise the window and lean out of it to watch the two disappear. It was his cigar hand, however, and he hesitated a second too long. He dragged on his cigar. "God damn it," he said, "there are nice things in the world--and I mean nice things. We're all such morons to get so sidetracked. Always, always, always referring every goddam thing that happens right back to our lousy little egos." Behind him, just then, Franny blew her nose with guileless abandon; the report was considerably louder than might have been expected from so fine and delicate-appearing an organ. Zooey turned around to look at her, somewhat censoriously.

What better way to lose that hangover headache than get drunk again? Oh, the joys of being Canadian with socialized health care and legal drinking age of nineteen. After a year (officially) honing that skill, I imbibed at an Olympic level. The red wine on the modular coffee table gleamed in a shaft of sunlight like its position had been ordained by the gods. I snatched up the crystal decanter, sloshing the liquid into the glass conveniently placed next to it. Once in a while, a girl could actually catch a break. I fanned myself with one hand. The myriad of lit candles seemed a bit much for Ari’s romantic encounter, but wine drinking trumped curiosity so I chugged the booze back. My entire body cheered as the cloyingly-sweet alcohol hit my system, though I hoped it wasn’t Manischewitz because hangovers on that were a bitch. I’d slugged back half the contents when I saw my mom on the far side of the room clutch her throat, eyes wide with horror. Not her usual, “you need an intervention” horror. No, her expression indicated I’d reached a whole new level of fuck-up. “Nava Liron Katz,” she gasped in full name outrage.

When social and market norms collide, trouble sets in. Take sex again. A guy takes a girl out for dinner and a movie, and he pays the bills. They go out again, and he pays the bills once more. They go out a third time, and he's still springing for the meal and the entertainment. At this point, he's hoping for at least a passionate kiss at the front door. His wallet is getting perilously thin, but worse is what's going on in his head: he's having trouble reconciling the social norm (courtship) with the market norm (money for sex). On the fourth date he casually mentions how much this romance is costing him. Now he's crossed the line. Violation! She calls him a beast and storms off. He should have known that one can't mix social and market norms—especially in this case—without implying that the lady is a tramp. He should also have remembered the immortal words of Woody Allen: “The most expensive sex is free sex.

I’m so sad,” I tell her. “I miss him.” “This self-pity isn’t doing you any favors. Where are you?” “In my neighborhood.” “Want to get a manicure?” She picks me up in her car and we drive to Long Island, where she’s from and manicures are really cheap. I choose orange. On the way home, we stop for iced coffee. “Hannah.” She talks fast. I know she speaks from love. “As we recover, we change. We learn to respect ourselves. We learn to live with integrity. I used to date the most awful men.” “Like Nick?” “Oh, I’ve had my share of Nicks.” “So how do you stop the Nicks?” I think of Corey, Ari, Josh. Something is different with Nick. He has gotten way under my skin. Just thinking of him makes my heart feel mangled. “Time. Recovery. Kindness. Honesty.” She makes it sound so simple. “I know he’s a mess. But he really loves me.” “Oh, girl.” Faith takes a long sip of her iced coffee. “Men are going to love you. People are going to love you. Do you know why?” “I have no idea.” “Because you are lovable. You might not know that yet, but the sooner you know it, the better.” “I don’t feel particularly lovable.” “Trust me,” she says. “You are plenty lovable. The trick is finding the person you want to love back.

Um," I point at his cape and gadgets. "You know you'll stand out, right?" He frowns at me. "You're none better," he says. I look down at my very medieval looking white gown and the two swords I carry. At least Yami is hidden as a dragon necklace. "You're right. I won't blend in either." He freezes. "Right, well, I'll just say it's Halloween." "But it's not." He raises an eyebrow.  "What do you mean?" "You can't just say it's Halloween. It has to be the actual day." "Really? Your human customs are so strange." He turns to the sink to wash his hands. I sigh. "Okay, we can say we're part of a fantasy game reenactment. Cosplay. That should give us a good cover." "Cosplay?" he says, holding the word in his mouth like a foreign thing he's afraid to taste. "Yeah, it's when humans dress up like characters from their favorite… " Ace's eyes are vacant and he looks bored. I sigh again. "Nevermind. Just let me do the talking if anyone questions our choice of clothing." He washes his hands, then gestures at the door. "After you." I lead, entering a place I once called a second home. Everything is familiar, everything makes me feel welcome. Jesus eyeing the naked sculptures. The Neon signs. The baby bottles filled with milk for customers' coffee. "Oh, Ari, sweetie. I didn't see you come in." Sheri runs up to me, wrapping me in a hug. "It's been so long. How have you been? And who's this dashing young man?" Ace raises his cape in front of his eyes. "It's Halloween." "No… no…" I shake my head and pull his cape down. "He's a friend. I'm just showing him the sights.

In the small, neat back bedroom Ari Nikolev watched as his daughter packed her suitcase with the dreariest, drabbest clothes in her closet. At his suggestion. ‘I know men,’ he’d said, when she’d protested. ‘But men won’t find me attractive in these.’ She’d jabbed her finger at the pile of clothes. ‘I thought you said you wanted Gamache to like me.’ ‘Not to date. Believe me, he’ll like you in those.’ As she turned to find her toiletry bag he slipped a couple of butterscotch candies into the suitcase, where she’d find them that night. And think of him. And with any luck never realize he had his own little secret. There was no Uncle Saul. No slaughter at the hands of the communists. No noble and valiant flight across the frontier. He’d made all that up years ago to shut up his wife’s relatives camped in their home. It was his lifeboat, made of words, which had kept him afloat on their sea of misery and suffering. Genuine suffering. Even he could admit that. But he’d needed his own stories of heroics and survival. And so, after helping to conceive little Angelina and then Yvette, he’d conceived Uncle Saul. Whose job it was to save the family, and who had failed. Saul’s spectacular fall from grace had cost Ari his entire fictional family. He knew he should tell Yvette. Knew that what had started as his own life raft had become an anchor for his little girl. But she worshipped him, and Ari Nikolev craved that

I've never felt anything like it. I usually have trouble..." "Coming?" "Well, yes, I mean, it's fine by myself. But hard. At other times. With people. But this time it wasn't... difficult." "Well, great. He's had a lot of practice." "Don't be mean." "I'm not, but you want me to act like great sex is the end of the world." It is the end of the world, I thought. "No. But it feels big. I can't explain it, I feel, womanly or something." "You think it's womanly to get fucked?" She had her clawed tones out and I retreated. "I don't want to argue about gender theory. I just feel like something real happened. And I wanted someone to talk to about it. Like a friend." "Let me guess," she said, tapping the spoon against the tablecloth. "He beat you up a little bit, called you a slut, and you thought that was really edgy, another spoiled white girl who wants to get slapped around because she always got everything she wanted." "Fuck, Ari." I shook my head. "It must be hard. To have already sized up the world, to already have written it off completely. Is it just so fucking boring all the time?" "Pretty much, Skip." "I would rather be called a slut by him than deal with the shit I get from the women here." I picked up my bowl. "Also, you're fucking white. By the way. And you don't get a medal for being gay.

Sit in the darkness and dance in the light. Understand you are both lost and found, and it's okay if you don't know where to return to; you are here, and I know it's hard, but you are. Keep choosing to be. I promise one day it will be enough.

I don’t think you’re weird, Ari.” Destiny dropped down on the edge of the bed and picked up the Anne Rice book. “I think it’s cool that you’re into…stuff.

Do you fancy catching a movie at the Sturbridge Theater tonight? That new Robert Pattinson movie is showing,” I ask her, the phone cradled against my chest. “Definitely sign me up for that!” Ari replies, chuckling as I mock scowl. Her easy laugh warms my soul. “We’re in,” I tell Gil, arranging to meet him and his date in the diner later. “So, who is it this time?” Ari asks, resting her chin in her hands. “Anyone we know?” Considering I can count the girls on one hand who have enjoyed more than one date with Gil, I doubt it’ll be someone familiar. “I didn’t ask; guess we’ll find out soon enough.” “Five bucks says it’s a blonde,” Ari quips. “That’s one bet I’m not taking,” I admit, twirling a lock of her hair around my finger. “Gil’s penchant for blondes is world-renowned.

The chick in the front had on a skintight dress that showed off all her curves in all the right places. Two or three girls nearby were busting out of their tops. Christ, it was like someone had told them I fucking loved them busty. Another girl caught my eye who had a dark, mysterious vibe about her. I bet she could suck cock. Before Ari, I would have found out. Now, I made a mental checklist. I could appreciate a chick if she was hot and imagine what she would probably do to me without actually fucking wanting it to happen. At least I’d never go through with it.

What the fuckity fuck? My girl’s awake, and no one called me?!” Brady tears through the little bubble we’ve formed around Ari. “That’s some bullshit right there!” He grins,

She stares at me with incandescent eyes. Then her roar fills the house: ‘Those ripped away from their beloved know my whale. Having been cut from the source, they long to return.’ (Rumi’s Divan e Shams)

Meanwhile, Kostas left Paul's mother after 17 years. She stayed in Troy with Paul's little brother, Ari, and Kostas moved home to Des Moines. He had gotten a new job as a bookkeeper for a construction business and quietly moved in with his high school sweetheart with whom he had apparently been exchanging letters this whole time. Paul was more offended by the sentimentality of it all more than the cheating; by Kostas' low expectations of life. How could he be in love with someone he met in high school? To Paul, that was prison romance; desire that doesn't hold up to competition.

I showed her the Mobb Deep song “Shook Ones Part II” in the first days or weeks when we got together. Now, all of a sudden, she was excited, showing me a video of some pool party where the crowd was puzzled when the DJ played a little childlike tune with very few notes and sounds. Until they recognized the sampled song being played with the original piano tune of Herbie Hancock underneath, called “Jessica”, she was acting like she was teaching me something or something I didn't know beforehand. She was acting like she was smarter than me, or as if I didn't know anything about music, hip hop, or rap. It was very odd. Who could have shown her that track, that video, and Herbie Hancock? I wondered. So, I played the next song myself - Bob Marley's “Forever Loving Jah”. Then, she played Jonathan Richmann's “Something about Mary”. So, I played the song “Jah is One” from Mosh Ben Ari and certain members of Shotei Hanevua to see her reaction to Israeli reggae music. So she played Notorious BIG and the Junior Mafia’s song: “Get money.” She was singing the chorus shaking her boot. Then I played Tupac Shakur's “Hit 'Em Up.” She played Notorious BIG’s song “Juicy.” So I played his song called “Somebody Gotta Die.” She then played the Moldy Peaches, „We are not those kids, sitting on the couch” So I played Mad Child's “Night Vision” to see if she knew it.

Alexandre's smile vanished once more. "What have I told you about profanity?" The girl sighed, though she couldn't help but smile as the pedantic change of tone. "A true lady never curses," she parroted back at him. "And do we know why?" Adrienne blinked. He'd never gotten into it, and she'd assumed it was another of the endlessly labyrithine laws of etiquette. "Umm, because it's not ladylike?" she ventured. "No. Because a true lady should have the wit and the imagination, or at the very least the restraint, to express herself without resorting to such base vocabulary.

No one will ever love you like I do, Sophie-girl. No one will want to run their hands over your scars or kiss your most intimate places – no one but me.’ Ron’s voice echoed in her mind. She yanked her hand back from Aris, surprising him. She couldn’t get used to him. He wouldn’t want her once he saw.

The great Ari Shamron was eternal, but the vessel in which his spirit resided would not last forever.

Leila suddenly felt as if there was a great physical distance between her and this girl. She saw this serene young woman sitting there: it was like a visualisation of what Ari was to become. She smiled at her and shook her head. The aroman and smoke of the incense seemed to have moved the primitive tent to a new continuum. I am looking at a goddess, Leila thought.

The guys didn’t say anything until Wavy was in my room. Landon turned to me, eyes comically wide. “There’s a girl in your bedroom.

A girl should never make decisions while she’s sitting on the floor of her closet, wedged between a plate of cookies and her vibrator collection.

PLAYLIST You can listen to the entire playlist on Youtube. “Smells like Teen Spirit” by Saint Mesa “God” by Jake Daniels (Slowed & Reverb) “Love You like Me” by William Singe (Sped up) “Haunted” by Isabel LaRosa (Slowed & Reverb) “Eyes Don’t Lie” by Isabel LaRosa (Slowed &Reverb) “I’m Her” by Natalie Jane (Slowed & Reverb) “Play with Fire” by Sam Tinnesz ft. Yacht Money (Slowed & Reverb) “Gasolina” by Cryjaxx & the Fifthguys (Slowed & Reverb) “Beast” by Mia Martina ft. Waka Flocka (Slowed &Reverb) “Maneater” by Nelly Furtado (Slowed & Reverb) “U” by Jarico (Slowed & Reverb) “Taste” by Ari Abdul (Slowed & Reverb) “One Breath around the World” by Guillaume Ferran “Nightmares” by Skyfall Beats (Slowed & Reverb) “Poem of a Killer” by WE ARE FURY (with Elijah Cruise) “Devil in Disguise” by Christopher James & Dececio Vance Westlake & Charlotte Eve Matthews “Never Satisfied” by CORPSE “Looking at the Devil” by Seibold ft. Neutopia “Buttons” The Pu$$y Cat Dolls (Slowed & Reverb) “Bad Girls” by M.I.A. (Slowed & Reverb) “Freak like Me” by Night Club (Slowed & Reverb) “Under the Influence” by (Slowed & Reverb) “Beautiful Liar” by Beyoncé & Shakira (Slowed & Reverb) “Kute” by Techno Killa (Slowed & Reverb) “GODZILLA!” by SXMPRA “Obsessed” by Zandros ft. Limi “Skins” by The Haunting “Horns” by Bryce Fox “Femme Fatale” by Amanati “Goddess” by Jaira Burns “Flashbacks” by CRASPORE “Treat Me like a Slut” by Kim Petras “Calm Down” by Krewella (Slowed & Reverb) “PIECES” by Elley Duhé “MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT” by Elley Duhé “Flare” by Hennson (Slowed & Reverb) “Huh!” by Xanakin Skywok (Slowed & Reverb) “wtf?!” – Sadfriendd x Kordhell “MURDER FUNK” by Kiraw x Ichiro “After Dark x Sweater Weather” by The Neighbourhood x Mr.Kitty (slowed to perfection)