Brook Taylor Quotes

There is just as much beauty in birth as there is in death, and it changes our lives just the same. They both add things to us and take things away." Pg. 155 Undone

That is what love is - the ability to push aside all the stupid stuff, no matter who brought it on or why, and to embrace what's important. Pg. 138 Undone

i can't remember to forget you

it's choice, not chance, that determines our destiny

There is no shame in not knowing; the shame lies in not finding out -russian proverb

The more i pretend to be shiny and bright the darker i feel inside

lets run away, cross state lines.

How’s everything going with you and your roses?

If Chelsea was one of her sketchbook creations, she would be made up of hard strokes from a densely packed paintbrush and scratches from a sharp quill pen.

You drive me wild, Brook. I don’t know if I can control myself around you much longer.

I love you, Brooklynn. I love you like no one else ever can or ever will. You will always be mine and if the day ever comes that I can’t have you, know that no one else can either. Remember that, Brook, no one else can ever have you.

religious feeling; but in Miss Brooke's case, religion alone would have determined it; and Celia mildly acquiesced in all her sister's sentiments, only infusing them with that common-sense which is able to accept momentous doctrines without any eccentric agitation. Dorothea knew many passages of Pascal's Pensees and of Jeremy Taylor by heart; and to her the destinies of mankind, seen by the light of Christianity, made the solicitudes of feminine fashion appear an occupation for Bedlam. She could not reconcile the anxieties of a spiritual life involving eternal consequences, with a keen interest in gimp and artificial protrusions

I don't eat & drink good clean food because I want my body to look more like Taylor Swift's. Actually, I am among a rare breed of humans that knows my worth is not determined by the size of my ass. That said, I eat and drink clean food because I love myself. Besides, when I eat shitty food, I feel like shit. Period. When I eat refined sugar and a bunch of processed foods, my mind gets all foggy and my body feels lethargic. No thanks! I mean, how am I supposed to change the world for the better feeling like that?

Daisy gathered a forkful of cake and held it in front of Chelsea’s mouth. “Fuck diets.

Liko Yuen 7/ 16 6: 09 p.m. I don’t like people seeing my binder. I’m gonna join track to fill in for it.

reading is not something you have to do it should be some thing you want to do

Chelsea wanted to drown in her; she wanted to be struck by her, electrocuted by her. Instead they had this: two women too scared of what they individually wanted to give each other anything at all.

Chelsea’s beauty didn’t bite. It lingered in every quick flick of her lashes and parting of her lips, every breathy sigh and tentative touch. Chelsea Cavanaugh was beautiful like autumn, Daisy decided. She left you wanting.

Sonnet: To the River Otter Dear native brook! wild streamlet of the West! How many various-fated years have passed, What happy and what mournful hours, since last I skimmed the smooth thin stone along thy breast, Numbering its light leaps! Yet so deep impressed Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes I never shut amid the sunny ray, But straight with all their tints thy waters rise, Thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey, And bedded sand that, veined with various dyes, Gleamed through thy bright transparence! On my way, Visions of childhood! oft have ye beguiled Lone manhood's cares, yet waking fondest sighs: Ah! that once more I were a careless child!

Speaking in the tabernacle to a large assembly, he [John Taylor, Mormon] said: Who would not rather die than bow to the yoke of the enemy? It would sweeten death to a man to know that he should lay down his life in defence of freedom and the kingdom of God, rather than to longer bow to the cruelty of the mobs, even when the mob have the name of being legalized by the nation. I thank God, and I rejoice that this people... are determined to have peace, if they have to fight for it. To this stirring appeal, the whole congregation responded with a loud and hearty Amen! Since this sounds suspiciously like treason...

My grief felt too private, too deep. I quiet literally wanted to die, like I wished it had been me instead of her.

I’d spent seven months of my life obsessively and delightedly planning for a future that included months of caring for an infant. I expected my entire life to revolve around the person who had been closer & realer to me than anyone. Now she was suddenly and inexplicably missing from my life. My life with her and I am been so close I could taste it..

I wish I could hate you for makin’ me fall in love with you, but you’re the Taylor Lautner of exes.” “Am I supposed to know what that means?” The corner of her lips curves up. “He’s the favorite ex of Taylor Swift because he’s unproblematic and treated her like royalty.

One song to the tune of another - a concept that is almost too simple for words. Without a trace of ostentation and offering no more than plain uncomplicated straightforwardness, the difficulty of the round lies only in finding the mode juste to describe its lack of pretention and complication or the ease and clarity, which embraces its artless elementalism. Indeed Its this very lack of convoluted ramification that makes excessive detail description not only unnecessary, but also superfluous to a point bordering on the tautological. It's impossible to describe its lack of advanced over contrived complex compound structure or its total avoidance of extravagantly woven sophistry in mere words. These conventional catalysts so expeditious to verbal facility that elucidate conceptual comprehension succinctly and without recourse to extraneous elaboration. If only everything in life was so simple!

Here’s to Girlhood: Early morning chats Late night chats Buddy reading Sharing daily dog pictures Supporting each other through thick and thin Being obsessed with Taylor Swift & Travis Kelce Sending dozens of TikToks to each other Laughing at ourselves and at each other

Am I supposed to know what that means?” The corner of her lips curves up. “He’s the favorite ex of Taylor Swift because he’s unproblematic and treated her like royalty.

we are born into this world on the tailcoats of a scream. born into gritted teeth and a shock of red across the pristine. born into a solemn hush. are you evil? you, who tore into this world on a steed of crimson… are you a monster? we are born as angels, toothless, a mouth a gurgling brook. and as we grow, so do our wings, until we are high enough to see that our church is no more than a small forest and the altar a tree. are you a monster, angel with fangs? all teeth, thick with teeth, you can’t even close your mouth anymore. it rains and it’s like drowning. corn husk skin and we’re born again. into a time of being tied down, to a person, to a bed. a time of clipped wings. of holy cries out to a void. your wildness a convenience store in the desert, pale pink, dusty, arid. your wildness staring longingly at the screaming horizon and flicking another cigarette butt into the dirt, a lone oscillating fan its only company. we’re born into this concrete world, where sanctuary is to be alone or to pretend to like it. this world of broken bottles instead of leaf crunch. roadside motels proclaiming vacancies. inside and out. that pluck your heartstrings. a new church, a fresh sin. the altar now a white railing against a muted matte pink wall. you lean against it, hips jutted to the side. some of the eighties still lingers. you see a man in a leather jacket kissing a girl’s neck purple. he looks up. teeth are everywhere. hundreds of glistening teeth. you turn away. your wings shush against an old telephone booth, door forced closed. you’re calling your mother to say you’re sorry for hurting her, but when she answers you hang up.

By mid-2009, integration had been officially attempted in only two of the state’s 33 prisons, beginning with non-violent inmates considered most likely to accept it. At Sierra Conservation Center, southeast of Sacramento, integration began in the fall of 2008. For three days, hundreds of prisoners protested by refusing to work, eat, or leave their cells. Rules violations increased five-fold. Prisoners refused to share cells even though they could be punished with withdrawal of television, commissary, and exercise privileges, and have up to 90 days added to their sentences. 'To me, this is like using us like lab rats, to see if it works,' said black inmate Glenn Brooks. 'It ain’t ever going to work. All it’s going to do is get somebody hurt, get somebody killed.

I don’t want to spend too much time describing this culture of individualism, authenticity, autonomy, and isolation because it has been described so masterfully by others: Philip Rieff in The Triumph of the Therapeutic, Christopher Lasch in The Culture of Narcissism, Gail Sheehy in Passages, Alasdair MacIntyre in After Virtue, Tom Wolfe in “The ‘Me’ Decade,” Erica Jong in Fear of Flying, Charles Taylor in The Ethics of Authenticity, Robert Bellah in Habits of the Heart, and Robert Putnam in Bowling Alone.

too much reciprocity and you wind up in an insular rut. Too much reach and your efforts are scattershot and fruitless. Ms. Taylor wanted to slip Harold into this rhythm of expansion and integration.

After a moment of silence, she clears her throat. “I wish I could hate you for makin’ me fall in love with you, but you’re the Taylor Lautner of exes.