Ciara Quotes

History is who we are,” I say finally. “The past shapes us. Even the parts you can’t remember.

See, the thing about the falling in love montage," she said, her voice hoarse, "is that when it's over, the characters have fallen in love.

That was one of the hardest things about breaking up. It's not a pair of bookends, the beginning and the end... It's all the things we used to do that we'd never do again and all the things we'd never do for the first time together.

Just because something doesn't last forever doesn't mean it isn't meaningful

I don’t believe there’s one right person for everyone, and I spent fifty-one years with the same woman. But I do believe there’s a right person for you at different times in your life. Whether that relationship lasts a week or fifty years is not what makes it special.

How about life's too short to be second-guessing yourself the whole way? You can only go with what you feel right now and if you feel like it might make you happy, even for a while, jump in with both feet, girl, and get wet.

Was this what being straight was like? A boy in your bedroom making a mess? Not for the first time, I thanked God I was a lesbian.

If you truly love someone, if they were ever important to you, it doesn't disappear. What it looks like might change, but that's only the surface

You stabbed me to protect Ciara.” "I still think stabbed is a bit much. It didn’t kill you. It was more like a…you know, like a setback, I’d call it.” "You setbacked me in the chest, with a knife

I made a mental note that if I ever wanted to try some therapeutic screaming, the acoustics in here were great.

Please, God, don't be out of battery, you piece of shit, please, God." One of the lesser-known prayers. You heard it around, sure, but only if you stuck it out to the end of the rosary.

There is greatness in you, Ciara of Mide, beyond even what you have accomplished so far. It matters little where your power comes from

I’ve always found profanity to be a lot like bacon,” said Ciara. “It works wonders on the flavor of your speech, but it lacks impact when used excessively.

Too flowery. Too short. Too pink." [Ciara] went through all her outrageously feminine, frilly, and sometimes almost see-through tops and I shot each one down. "Too cropped. Too rufflely. Too strappy. That's still pink. Not enough shirt." - Andy

If I'm going to murder people I'm going to do it in style. I'm not going to half-arse it. It's not Maths homework. It's a passion project.

Maybe that’s what a relationship means, carrying a part of someone around for the rest of your life.

Don't spit in my hair!" "Don't get hair in my spit. That's my good saliva.

I like having something that can't ever change. It's already happened.

Cos I fancy you. I'm hoping that if I go to all this effort you'll look at me and think, 'Well, she might be a dumbass, but she tries'. And then, I dunno, maybe you'll flash me or something.

Things felt more messy than ever. Could someone treat you badly and still love you? Someone could treat you badly and you still love them, so maybe the reverse was true too. But just because you loved someone it didn't mean you had to give them another chance. Or maybe that's exactly what it meant.

I wanted to tell her how much I liked her, how I felt this tugging feeling in my stomach that drew me close to her, but I couldn’t let the words out of my mouth because it felt like unleashing something I couldn’t control.

This is what you get for being a Good Samaritan. You die in a girls' locker room at the hands of a deranged overachiever.

If you accept that there's a problem, then you have to do something about it.

Please excuse Aideen Cleary from PE today She has bubonic plauge." I coughed. "You do not have bubonic plauge." "I do though.' "I could phone your mother." "You could.

Nothing good starts with I hope you'll be happy for me. The phrase is loaded with the unsaid ending because you won't be happy for yourself.

Have you met my wife, Kristen Stewart? We're flying on a private jet to Maui tonight to have lots of sex and lip biting. Fuckity bye, arseholes.

She flipped her hair over to the opposite side. My stomach flipped over to its opposite side.

The roller coaster here gives off the distinct aura of taking your life into your own hands, but I hear life-threatening circumstances bring people together, so why not?

Love didn't just disappear did it? Mine didn't. It wasn't some light I could switch on and off. It was something that had grown inside me, its roots tangled around all the organs of my body.

I forgot what it was like to be kissed by someone who might want more than a kiss. I knew then that Ruby was definitely not experimenting. I should have been scared. I should have left the room. I should never have gone upstairs with a girl who made me wobble.

I dug deep down into my empathy store and found a dried-up old raisin.

Look," I said in my softest voice. "you got your heart pulped. You missed someone and then you wanted to feel like they loved you again. that's not pathetic. It's your heart, it's soft and mushy and it's supposed to be and I'm sorry he thought it was okay to mess with it but that's his mistake, not yours.

You're a handsome one, aren't you?" she cooed. "So strong and sturdy. What a good hasp you must have; what a firm sense of your purpose. But you've been holding your place for so long. You can't be expecting to stay closed forever. Why, that isn't fair! The people who put you here don't appreciate you the way I do. They don't understand how difficult it is to be a lock, and do the things you do. I would appreciate you always. I would never leave you alone in the rain to rust." "Are we watching a woman try to seduce a lock?" asked Andrew. "I'm not objecting if we are -- your kink is okay and all -- but I just want to confirm that everyone else is seeing what I'm seeing, here." The lock clicked as it released, popping open. "No, we're watch a woman successfully seduce a lock, said Jeffery. "Fascinating." "Her love life must involve a lot of handcuffs," I said, earning myself a snort from Ciara as she reached out and removed the padlock from its place on the door. "Don't ask about mine and I won't ask about yours," she said, making the lock disappear into her pocket.

Relationships change and the past isn’t some static thing you could keep forever like a photograph. No one else seems to understand that. Just because something happened, it doesn’t mean it will mean the same thing to you forever. It changes with you.

I'm just. A girl. Standing in front. Of another girl, asking her. To please accept. This grand. Gesture. As an apology for being an absolute gobshite.

When you truly love someone, it doesn't go away,

I thought about how amazing it was that this moment would exist forever. Perfect and unchanged. A moment where I always be madly in love with Ruby Quinn.

I'd never met someone I hated more. Would it have been wrong to burn her house down to get out?

Was it possible to have your cake and then not be sad when your cake leaves you and smashes your heart into a mushy pulp?

Ciara stepped forward, holding up her hands to the sky. “I am a fire demon,” she declared. “Congratulations. Care to light this for me?

Those who have seen it all know it all"-Ciara Kinney

I suoi occhi mostrano la sua anima. E la sta mostrando a me. Ed io vorrei poterla abbracciare e prendermene cura, per tutta la vita, giuro.

Ciara, there are certain things a man does not ask of a lady." "You are not asking." "Aye.

Ciara wasn’t as aggressive a driver as Henry sometimes was, but let’s face it: neither was Mr. Toad from The Wind in the Willows.

Now that you made me a knight again", he said lightly, "I'll have to keep my mind on certain knightly virtues like chastity." Ciara could not remember that ever being a knightly virtue.

Sweetwater County, Tennessee. Population 5,000. Where your heart and home belong. Lisa Mortan would soon see if the county motto scribbled on their sign was true. It had been a long drive from

I decided I wouldn't call her annoying anymore. I didn't know what it was like to be Meabh, and I certainly would never get what it was like to be Kavi, but I knew what it was like to feel alone.

Why are you doing this,' she asked. 'You know why.' I said. 'Because you like to help people?' 'Nah.' 'Because you believe in my platform?" 'God no,' I joked. She smirked. 'Why then.' 'Cause I fancy you. I'm hoping if I go to all this effort you'll look at me and think, well, she might be a dumbass but she tries. And then, I dunno, maybe you'll flash me or something.' She laughed out loud at that. 'That is not why.' 'It is,' I said earnestly. 'I think you'll flash me.' 'You do not.' 'I do.' 'You don't.' 'I really do.' 'You-' I cut her off with a kiss. I didn't think about it. I just leaned in and held the back of her head gently.

Agapanthus and peonies in June. Scented stock and sweet peas in July. Sunflowers and sweet William in August. By the time September's oriental lilies and ornamental cabbages appeared, she wasn't hiding upstairs in the workroom anymore. She was spending more time in the shop, answering the phone, dealing with the customers. One Sunday she spent the afternoon at an allotment belonging to a friend of Ciara's, picking lamb's ear and dusty miller and veronica for a wedding, and didn't think about Michael once, but she kept remembering a Patrick Kavanagh poem she'd learned at school, the one about how every old man he saw reminded him of his father.

I don't think you can make people stop being dicks," he said thoughtfully. "They either will or they won't on their own time. I don't need them to be on my side. I just need someone who is, so I'm not alone. I need pople I can talk to. And I have that now.

In fact, a whole ex-girlfriend themed ghost train sounded genuinely terrifying. You'd get in and instead of a mummy mannequin covered in toilet roll popping out, it's her and you look down and you're wearing a baggy old jumper with a stain on the front. You turn the corner and you find yourself being forced to scroll through her Instagram and there are replies from a girl with tattoos and she looks exactly like the celebrity your ex fancies most. Right at the end, they play a video on a loop that's just screenshots of all the pathetic texts you sent when you were too heartbroken to have any dignity.

The thought made me feel a gasping, grabbing tightness in my chest. Like someone was holding a pillow over my mouth, only the teeny-tiniest molecules of air getting through, more of a taunt than a lifeline. I squeezed my eyes tight shut and forced that part of my mind to turn black. It wasn't there. There was no problem.

In all the world, there are only two strong enough. One born for it, the other through great sacrifice.

It's all a load of bolloxology, but I'm not going to let that get in the way of making fun of you, am I?

But if everything is meaningless, you might as well have as good a time as you possibly can.

Instead of moving on, it felt like everything behind me was being wiped out, as though I had conjured it into being and when I wasn't looking it all disappeared.

I love you. But I’m not in love with you.” It’s such a cliché I didn’t even really know what it meant. How was in love different from love?

See, the thing about the falling in love montage,” she said, her voice hoarse, “is that when it’s over, the characters have fallen in love.

night didn’t compare to her intoxicating smile.

That's how I was feeling too. Except when I started feeling that way it made me want to be close to you, to share things with you, not to pull away.

I waved him down with a cheery goodbye and when the doors swung closed I gave him the finger. It's the little things that keep me going.

That was one of the hardest things about breaking up. It's not a pair of bookends, the beginning and the end. It's the unraveling of the future.

A man-stealing, failed wannabe New York fashionista

The fence is as strong now as it was the day we met. Barbed wire strewn between white picket fences and roughhewn poles.

I heard a plea for absolution in those words. I saw it on his face. Tell me I'm not a terrible person.

Whatever Just do something productive. You haven't done your last two English assignments and you have one due Friday. I told you next time it's detention." "Wow, gossiping about me withe the English teacher. I would have thought you were above that kind of thing." Ms. Devlin turned red, ready to explode. "I am your English teacher, you ninny." "Oh I thought you looked familiar.

The bathroom had a large bath and was themed of the seaside. Something I've never quite understood. I'm not sure what it is about peeing that makes people think of lighthouse ornaments and soaps shaped like seashells in a seashell.

She's injured," I said. "we're not just carrying her around for the craic, you know." Sister Dymphna frowned. "I don't like young ladies who are cheeky," she said. I don't like old bats who are too senile to spot a pretty obvious problem.

When media criticizes Ciara’s faux locs and then calls the same hairstyle edgy on a Kardashian, what message is being sent to young girls of color? If bandannas are a hot new accessory for young white women in the pages of Elle and a reason to throw handcuffs on a Latina in high school, then what message is received? What impact does it have to pretend that cornrows on white women are the same as a weave on Black women when only one is likely to lose their job over a hairstyle? We know colorism exists, but do we grasp the ways that the message that lighter skin is better are reinforced before we criticize bleaching? It’s important to remember that this is all happening within a society that privileges lighter skin over darker skin, that prioritizes able bodies over disabled bodies, that sees being cisgender as the only option. Although not everyone will develop mental illnesses around their body image as a result of this environment, for those who do, the illness is often reinforced

Now I think I was wrong. I think my luck was built into me, the keystone that cohered my bones, the golden thread that stitched together the secret tapestries of my DNA; I think it was the gem glittering at the fount of me, coloring everything I did and every word I said. And if somehow that has been excised from me, and if in fact I am still here without it, then what am I? Acknowledgments I owe huge thanks to the amazing Darley Anderson and everyone at the agency, especially Mary, Emma, Pippa, Rosanna and Kristina; Andrea Schulz, my wonderful editor, whose enormous skill, patience and wisdom have made this book so much better than I thought it could be; Ben Petrone, who is just plain great, and everyone at Viking; Susanne Halbleib and everyone at Fischer Verlage; Katy Loftus, for her faith in this book and for putting her finger on the one thing that would make the most difference; my brother, Alex French, for the computer bits and for sending me the link to the case of Bella in the Wych Elm; Fearghas Ó Cochláin, for the medical bits; Ellen at ancestrysisters.com, for genealogy help; Dave Walsh, for his enormous help with the intricacies of police procedure; Ciara Considine, Clare Ferraro and Sue Fletcher,

Ciara had shed her boots and thrown herself down on the bed, letting out a quiet moan. The noise, along with the sight of her in the dim light sent his thoughts down a path he’d forced himself not to think on since they’d been running for their lives. “Spirits,” she sighed. “A real bed.” He let out a low chuckle, walking around to the other side of the bed and sitting on the edge so that he could take off him own boots. “Well, if I’d known you’d be this easy to please…” She threw a pillow at him, her laughter flooding his chest with warmth. He’d missed this part of them and he desperately wanted it back, even if it was only for one night.

You're trying to make me play camogie to solve an imaginary problem. There's nothing wrong. Except my bubons." "Your what?" "My bubons. I have bubonic plauge. My body is covered in bubons. Under my clothes, though, obviously." "You could at least read a bit more about these illnesses, you know, instead of simply choosing one off a list." "Sounds like homework.

One time," Kavi started, and I pinched the bridge of my nose before the story even got going, "when I was little I told my brother that he should get in the tumble dryer and we'd turn it one and see what happened and then my mam founded me trying to help him in, you know like stuffing his limbs in there, and she almost had a heart attack and started screaming that appliances are not for people and then she told my brother to get out of the tumble dryer and never go in there again, but when he tried to get out again he was stuck and we has to call the fire brigade to cut him out of it. then we didn't have a tumble dryer for ages but now we have one that's a washing machine and a tumble dryer in one.

People of Dyflin, King Sigtrygg is dead. Behold your new queen, Queen Ciara!

At least Ciara and I would be together. Ciarianna would rise again.

You stabbed me to protect Ciara.” “Yes. I still think stabbed is a bit much. It didn’t kill you. It was more like a… you know, like a setback, I’d call it.” “You setbacked me in the chest, with a knife,” he said, with a straight face.

I can't think of anything to say. Which is not unusual, I prefer listening.

The only way into one of the narrow parking spaces is to reverse which I hate almost as much as horror films.

There's good news and bad news. The good news is, we've had a lovely time. The bad news is...we'll be back.

This excessive tiredness can be caused by an overstimulation of adrenal hormones, which are being produced by the body in a state of stress but not being used in the modern office working day. One way to reduce these hormones in the body is to exercise, but most people avoid exercise when they’re feeling exhausted, thinking that they don’t have the energy even to walk to the shop. The reality is that a walk is probably the best thing you can do. Fresh air and exercise can help shift the tiredness rut.

Cedes was about to get to the bottom of this Ciara mess.

I’ve tried committing suicide in this apartment over two times but each time I attempt, I keep seeing Ciara’s and Allison’s faces and I just stop altogether” Porsha cried. This

Lisha still had the Ciara situation on her mind. She rushed across town from St. Anthony’s to the Olive Garden in Greektown.

I got the shock of my life when I looked and saw that Ciara had the powder from the candy lined up on the little table that was in the den and then started sniffing it up her nose as if it was cocaine. When

Lisha’s ears perked up at the mention of Trigga’s name. She was ready to knock Ciara’s bird brain out.

It finally came down to killing Ciara. She was a threat to her family and Cedes didn’t need a snitch bitch on the loose.

There stood Trigga and a beautiful pregnant woman. She would’ve started cussing him out if it weren’t for the death stare he was giving her. Trigga knew Ciara was the type to act belligerent in public.

Ciara was trying to get a rise out of Cedes. Even though she wasn’t heavy set, she was thicker than Ciara.

I could feel Rick’s eyes on me the whole time as I drove. I already knew what he was thinking about, but I hoped that he didn’t try to start any mess in this car, especially while my kids were with me. The weather was terrible outside, making it extremely hard for me to see. “Where you get that cash from that I saw in your purse?” Rick asked me. I cursed myself for leaving the money that Antonia had given me the other day in my purse. When we had gotten to the register so that I could pay for the groceries, I reached into my purse to retrieve my EBT card, and Rick caught a glimpse of the fifty-dollar bill that I had lying in there. “Antonia gave it to me, okay?” I told him, hoping that would be the end of this conversation. “So, you hiding money from me now, Gina? Is that what we’re doing?” he asked me. “Rick, I’m not hiding anything from you because this isn’t yours to begin with! The girls are going on a field trip next week, and it’s to pay for it!” I yelled at him. Right now, the rain had begun to pick up even harder and loud sounds of lightning and thunder were rumbling outside. “I don’t give a fuck about no damn field trip! Give me that money!” Rick yelled, trying to reach over my lap. I slapped his hands away, which caused me to swerve in the next lane and a car to blow the horn at me. “Rick, can you stop, please! You’re scaring my babies!” I yelled at him. It happened so quick. I was so distracted that I ended up running the red light and it was too late to brake because at this point, the eighteen wheeler came crashing into the right side of my little beat up Honda Civic which didn’t stand a chance. All I remember was looking in the rearview mirror and I noticed that neither Allison nor Ciara was in a seatbelt. It took seconds and their little bodies went flying out the front window and the truck had pretty much crushed into Rick and I, leaving everything to turn to black.

What course are you on, then?" she asks. "History." "So you want to read about people who died before you can even remember," she teases, nudging me in the arm. I take a moment to think about what it means to me so that the words come out right. "History is who we are," I say finally. "The past shapes us. Even the parts you can't remember

You're able to talk about your feelings, even when it's difficult. Even if the talking is sometimes shouting." He smiled at me again. "How'd you grow up with so much emotional intelligence when you have a dad like me?" "I guess I get that from my mum

Ruby leaned in and kissed me. A big movie kiss that should have had swelling music and soft lighting and a torrential downpour. But it happened in a garden, in broad daylight, and then Oliver turned the hose on us. "Does that count as kissing in the rain?" Ruby asked. "Let's debate that after we murder him.

YOU'RE A WANKER, NUMBER NINE!" I yelled the famous line from Imagine Me & You

I do," she said. "I don't want to forget what we had. Ever. In the past, we're perfectly preserved, best friends, in love forever. I like that." She looked at the ceiling. "Everything is moving so fast. Before long everyone we know will be scattered across the country, the world even. Our lives will look completely different to what they've always been so far." She put her hand on mine. "1 like having something that can't ever change. It's already happened.

I really don't think that's true at all. If you truly love someone, if they were ever important to you, it doesn't disappear. What it looks like might change, but that's only the surface.

And I knew what kind of person she was. Even if things changed, if she took up knitting or deep-sea diving or she got married or she adopted fourteen cats and lived in a lighthouse, some things would never change. The years of petty squabbles and sleepovers, first loves dissected, notes passed and secrets shared. It hadn't disappeared because they were over, and it couldn't be undone.

And I knew what kind of person she was. Even if things changed, if she took up knitting or deep-sea diving or she got married or she adopted fourteen cats and lived in a lighthouse, some things would never change. The years of petty squabbles and sleepovers, first loves dissected, notes passed and secrets shared. It hadn't disappeared because they were over, and it couldn't be undone.

Relationships change and the past isn't some static thing you could keep forever like a photograph. No one else seems to understand that. Just because something happened, it doesn't mean it will mean the same thing to you forever. It changes with you. The friendship you cherished, the wife you adored, the child you raised. It can all become meaningless so easily, which means it was always meaningless from the beginning and you just didn't realise it.

Sometimes I forget that I'm a lesbian. As in I forget that it's statistically unusual and that some people have strong feelings about it. Even though I've encountered a few thoughtless comments or downright cruel ones, especially at school when I first came out, for the most part, the people in my life don't care. But people still looked. I saw it when Hannah and I walked down the street. People would glance at our clasped hands. Briefly. Sometimes they smiled, occasionally they frowned, mostly they just moved on to noticing the next thing, but it always made me feel watched. Sometimes it's the little things. Being noticed doing something that would be invisible if I were with a boy.

There was a surprising amount of overlap between cute rom-com disaster scenes and your average horror movie disaster. Of course in rom-coms there is only sexual tension; in horror there's a knife-wielding serial killer, so the tone is subtly different, you know?