Kendall Quotes

Aut viam inveniam aut faciam tibi. I will either find a way or make one.

Never send a boy to do a woman’s job, Irma.” - Payton Kendall

No woman has to be respectable to be valuable.

We're out of time, Payton. You said it yourself: the only way we'll make it is for us to go into this together. I know we can do this. But I need you to believe it. You need to believe... in us." Peyton didn't say anything for a long moment, and J.D. could literally hear his heart beating. Then she finally answered. "It would have to be called Kendall and Jameson." It took J.D a moment to catch on. Then he grinned. "No way. Jameson and Kendall. It's alphabetical." "You told our boss that you banged me on top of your desk." "Kendall and Jameson sounds great

If you want to touch me, Kendall, touch me. Don't hide behind those little girl slaps.

I'd rather be hurt all at once for a specific reason, than be hurt slowly every day.--Ashlyn

Sometimes being a good ally is about opening the door for someone instead of insisting that your voice is the only one that matters.

Time moves on for us, for you it stands still. You will be forever ageless as we grow old, your smile will never wrinkle, nor will that shine in your eyes fade..

Score one for Team Kendall, Payton thought. Not that it was a competition between them. Not at all.

The shower trick. Let's hear it, Kendall

There’s nothing feminist about having so many resources at your fingertips and choosing to be ignorant. Nothing empowering or enlightening in deciding that intent trumps impact. Especially when the consequences aren’t going to be experienced by you, but will instead be experienced by someone from a marginalized community.

You may not have been who I picture myself with, but you're exactly what I need- someone I can let loose and be myself with.

I don't know whether it is beautiful or sad, that I find such blissful happiness within the confines of my own mind, more so than I do in the reality that surrounds me.

Poverty is an apocalypse in slow motion, inexorable and generational.

Please, do not leave me, Will Henry. I would not survive it. You were nearly right. What Mr. Kendall was, I am always on the brink of becoming. And you - I do not pretend to know how or even why - but you pull me back from the precipice. You are the one... You are the one thing that keeps me Human.

Ian’s the black sheep.” “I thought I was the black sheep,” said Seth, sounding almost hurt. “No. You’re the unfocused artistic one. I’m the responsible one. Ian’s the wild, hedonistic one.” “What’s hedonistic?” asked Kendall. Her father considered. “It means you run up a lot of credit card bills you can’t pay, change jobs a lot, and have a lot of…lady friends.

In this nasty-ass strip club bathroom full of pissing dudes and possible rogue ejaculators, Shades is no longer some guy I love fucking. He’s some guy I fucking love.

I want this girl. I want her for my own. End of story. The world can fuck off for all I care. She’s mine.

An intersectional approach to feminism requires understanding that too often mainstream feminism ignores that Black women and other women of color are the proverbial canaries in the coal mine of hate.

One of the biggest issues with mainstream feminist writing has been the way the idea of what constitutes a feminist issue is framed. We rarely talk about basic needs as a feminist issue. Food insecurity and access to quality education, safe neighborhoods, a living wage, and medical care are all feminist issues. Instead of a framework that focuses on helping women get basic needs met, all too often the focus is not on survival but on increasing privilege. For a movement that is meant to represent all women, it often centers on those who already have most of their needs met.

Mainstream, white-centered feminism hasn't just failed women of color, it has failed white women.

There’s a man masturbating in your bathroom!” She grabbed an umbrella from the foyer and held it in front of her like a weapon, poised for battle. “Ashlyn! Did you hear what I said? Call the police!

America loves the myth of a meritocracy more than anything else, because it lets us ignore the reality of the impact of bigotry.

The tone policing of respectability ensures that the fight for equality becomes the responsibility of the oppressed.

This might be the last time you get to drive the beef bus to tuna town,” I say. “You’d better make it good, so I don’t have any excuses to forget your hot ass.

Life wasn't all fucking sunshine and rainbows. Real life was hard.

He was a mystery to unravel, a puzzle I desperately wanted to solve.

You said you wanted to know how to please me? Consider this lesson number one. Don't be afraid to ask for what you want. Hearing you say it is a major turn on.

Carlos: "I'm 22." Logan: "I'm 22." James: "I'm 12." Kendall: "You have a really deep voice for a 12 year old." James:"I'm maturing quickly.

For women of color, the expectation that we prioritize gender over race, that we treat the patriarchy as something that gives all men the same power, leaves many of us feeling isolated.

I don't have much anymore, but I'll give you everything I got.

Feminism as a career is the province of the privileged; it's hard to read dozens of books on feminist theory while you're working in a hair salon or engaged in the kinds of jobs that put food on the table but also demand a lot of physical and mental energy.

I can't have another guy touching something I want for myself.

Ignoring the treatment of the most marginalized women doesn't set a standard that can protect any woman.

Home is where you go to find solace from the ever changing chaos, to find love within the confines of a heartless world, and to be reminded that no matter how far you wander, there will always be something waiting when you return.

Logan, with no memory of his own life was teaching me how to live in the moment and enjoy mine.--Ashlyn

Politeness as filtered through fragility and supremacy isn't about manners; it's about a methodology of controlling the conversation.

Osla Kendall is lightly fictionalized from the real-life Osla Benning, a beautiful, effervescent, Canadian-born heiress and Hut 4 translator who was Prince Philip’s long-term wartime girlfriend

War is a cold, selfish bitch, Kendall. It changes you. It makes you hard, and it makes you hurt, yet somehow, we keep going back for more.” “Because we’re soldiers,

I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m Miss Goody Two-shoes, with my perfect grades, and days of the week panties. You know what? I have my Wednesdays on today—it’s Saturday—and that’s a pretty sad way of rebelling, huh?

His body was a freaking masterpiece that could easily turn any girl into a drooling sex addict.

When you say what you think, be sure to think what you say.

The problem has never been the ways that victims don’t tell, so much as it has been that some victims aren’t seen as valuable enough to protect.

Aut viam inveniam aut faciam." "I shall either find away, or make one

We expect marginalized voices to ring out no matter what obstacles they face, and then we penalize them for not saying the right thing in the right way.

What a tribute this is to art; what a misfortune this is for history. (In reference to Shakespeare's 'Richard III')

On average, American states spend $88,000 to incarcerate a young person, but allot an average of $10,000 to educate them.

Too often white women decide that when they feel uncomfortable, upset, or threatened, they can turn to the patriarchy for protection. Because they don't want to lose that protection (dubious as it is), they stand by when it's convenient, and challenge it only when it directly threatens them. Yet, they know they benefit from it being challenged, and thus rely on others to do the heaviest lifting. They fail to recognize the conflicted relationship they have with the patriarchy includes a certain cowardice around challenging not only it, but other women who have embraced it.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, I meet her eyes. “I’m not jealous, I’m protective. Jealous is when you want something that’s not yours. Protective is looking after what’s yours already.

Love is like music. You have to work at it. Love is ugly and painful sometimes, but it can also be pretty fucking awesome once you figure out how to play the right notes to the right rhythm

Mainstream white feminists will have to confront the racism of white women and the harm it does, without passing the buck to white men.

Generally with women, I have the finesse and mental fortitude of a rhinoceros charging through a watering hole.

Girls like me seemed to be the object of the conversations and not full participants, because we were a problem to be solved, not people in our own right.

The happiest pillow on which you may rest your head is the knowledge of God's will. I cannot imagine a more miserable situation than consciously to be out of God's will.

Eliza Jane, I pressed a kiss to her palm. "I want you to be mine forever. Will you marry me?

I definitely know my way around a clit. No worries there. It’s all about pressure and speed.

If I have to sacrifice to give you everything you want, if I have to change who I am, whatever I have to do - tell me. It's done. I can't believe I thought I could live without you.

We have to be willing to embrace the full autonomy of people who are less privileged and understand that equity means making access to opportunity easier, not deciding what opportunities they deserve.

I know I shouldn't, but God I want you

It’s going to sound cheesy, but the fact is, I want a soul mate. Someone who not only loves me, but understands me on my deepest level,

Find your passion and run with it. Anything is possible.

You never can tell From a Minnipin's hide What color he is Down deep inside.

The turtle whose head Is within his shell Thinks the world outside Is going well.

Feminism in the hood is for everyone, because everyone needs it.

I hated feeling like I was using him for my own pleasure, but I knew he wouldn't let me return the favour...if this was the only way I could provide comfort to him and chase away his nightmares, then so be it. Selfless, I know. Mother-friggin-Teresa, right here.

Why are you here? What do you want?" he whispered against my lips

How could I be enough for you baby?

But by God, if I don’t get laid tonight, my cooter will go nuclear and wipe out a city block.

Feminism is the work that you do, and the people you do it for who matter more than anything else.

No matter where There is, when you arrive it becomes Here.

Attempts to tie access to food programs to labor, to respectability, to anything but being a human in need are ultimately less about solving the problem of hunger and more about shame.

No one can live up to the standards set by racist stereotypes like this that position Black women as so strong they don’t need help, protection, care, or concern. Such stereotypes leave little to no room for real Black women with real problems. In fact, even the most “positive” tropes about women of color are harmful precisely because they dehumanize us and erase the damage that can be done to us by those who might mean well, but whose actions show that they don’t actually respect us or our right to self-determine what happens on our behalf.

If your child is killed by police, if the water in your community is poisoned, if a mockery is made of your grief, how do you feel? Do you want to be calm and quiet? Do you want to forgive in order to make everyone else comfortable? Or do you want to scream, to yell, to demand justice for the wrongs done? Anger gets the petitions out, it motivates marches, it gets people to the ballot. Anger is sometimes the only fuel left at the end of a long, horrible day, week, month, or generation.

I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you," he says. "I memorized poems for you because I wanted to be able to talk to you about the shit you like." He lowers his voice. "And I ate you out because it was my birthday and all I wanted was to make you come. That was for me, Kendall. All of that was for me. I didn't do it to be nice. I did it because I.Like.You.

I figure if the neighbors haven’t called the cops by the time I’m done with Rax Wrathbone, I’m doing him all wrong.

If you never dream of flying, then you'll never wake up with wings.

I'm gonna need a strap-on, a dildo, some lube, condoms, and more of that tequila.

It's what we think of ourselves that matter

If a girl thinks she isn't beautiful, I'm here to prove her wrong.

Kid's, Life's too short to be organized. Follow your dreams first, then organize later.

Reverse cowgirl on a drum throne with the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on? Yes, please, and thank you.

To be filled by the Spirit you must be empty of yourself and full of God.

Just as fear of a Black man was used to justify lynching, fear of offending other white women has become the excuse for not confronting the harm white women are doing to themselves in their haste to uphold the limited protections offered by white privilege.

Martin Luther spent two hours a day in prayer. John Wesley spent two hours a day in prayer. According to a recent poll taken on both sides of the Atlantic, the average church leader, pastor, priest, evangelist, teacher today spends four minutes a day in prayer and you wonder why the church is powerless.

Nine inches may actually be a conservative estimate of what it might look like hard. He must destroy men’s egos every time he walks into a locker room. And I don’t even want to think about what he destroys with women…

Sometimes words just arent enough. Sometimes it's easier to magically lose yourself in the memories long past, the ones you so selfishly took for granted. And sadly sometimes that's the only way to keep those people in your life- recapturing their glorious light before they fade. And inevitably their memory along with them.

Nothing about this scene is right, but at this point, I’m so full of wrong, I’ll do whatever they want and ask myself for forgiveness later. I’m driving the bus to hell anyway. May as well take a little vacation while I’m in town.

And now I know that you're the one I've waited my whole life for You're budding leaves turning green in spring You're the fresh breath of air that summer brings You're the autumn sky painted in rainbow hues You're the wintry ocean dancing in shimmering blues You're the air I breahte You're the water I drink You're the fire inside me The earth under my feet You're the one

Now mainstream feminism has to step up, has to give itself to a place where it spends more time offering resources and less time demanding validation. Being an accomplice means that white feminism will devote its platform and resources to supporting those in marginalized communities doing feminist work.

Rape culture, a system that positions some bodies as deserving to be attacked, hinges on ignoring the mistreatment of marginalized women, whether they are in the inner city, on a reservation, are migrant workers, or are incarcerated. Because their bodies are seen as available and often disposable, sexual violence is tacitly normalized even as people decry its impact on those with more privilege.

It’s also quite possible she still detests me.” Tyler dismissed this with a wave. “You’re going to let a thing like that stop you?” “I was thinking intense despisement might be an obstacle in pursuing her, yes.” “No, see, that’s what makes it all the more interesting,” Tyler said. He adopted a grandly dramatic tone. “‘Does our fair Ms. Kendall truly loathe the arrogant Mr. Jameson as she so ardently proclaims, or is it all just a charade to cover more amorous feelings for a man she reluctantly admires?’” Up front, the cabdriver snorted loudly. He appeared to be enjoying the show. “Psych 101 again?” J.D. asked. Tyler shook his head. “Lit 305: Eighteenth-Century Women’s Fiction.” He caughtJ.D.’s look and quickly defended himself. “What? I took it because of the girls in the class. Anyway, I see a bit of a P and P dynamic going on between you and Payton.” J.D. didn’t think he wanted to know. Really. But he asked anyway. “P and P?” Tyler shot him a look, appalled. “Uh, hello—Pride and Prejudice?” His tone said only a cretin wouldn’t know this. “Oh right, P and P,” J.D. said. “You know, Tyler, you might want to pick up your balls—I think they just fell right off when you said that.” Up front, the cabdriver let out a good snicker.

We rarely talk about basic needs as a feminist issue. Food insecurity and access to quality education, safe neighborhoods, a living wage, and medical care are all feminist issues. Instead of a framework that focuses on helping women get basic needs met, all too often the focus is not on survival but on increasing privilege. For a movement that is meant to represent all women, it often centers on those who already have most of their needs met.

Actually, my brother’s in town,” Tim replied casually, not looking up from his laptop. “He’s staying with me at my townhouse.” “Why are you here working then?” Lucas asked incredulously. “Because my brother is in town and staying with me at my townhouse,” he repeated in the exact same tone.

I don't know why, but I didn't want her to call me Dick anymore. It was feeling kind of fake. 'Maybe we should use our real names outside of class. Yours is Rosetta, right?' 'Yes. Rosetta Vaughn.' 'All right,' I said. 'Well, mine is - ' 'Seth McCoy. I know.' She kind of wrapped her arms around herself like she was getting cold. 'I've known since February fourteenth, actually.' She's memorized the date she found out my name? What the hell? She laughed. 'Don't freak out! I only remember because it was Valentine's Day.' As if that explained it. 'And why do you remember learning my name on Valentine's Day?' 'Kendall Eckman was running after you in the hall screaming, "Seth McCoy, if you don't buy a rose from me, I'll kill you!" She was doing that Valentine's drama club fundraiser. Remember?' 'Actually, yes.' What I remembered was getting stoned with Isaac before school, and Kendall harshing my mellow the minute we walked in the door. Rosetta was looking like there was more to this story. 'And after she kept asking, you bought a red one?' 'Right. And I passed it off to -' I'd been about to say 'some chick,' but with how intently she was watching me, I was getting a different idea. '-you, right?' She extended her arm to pass me an imaginary rose in the same way I must have handed her a real one. Then she imitated the corny voice I must have used. 'Here, beautiful. Have a wonderful Valentine's Day.' Oh, Christ. The stupid shit I said sometimes.

THE WASHINGTON POST headline across page one in its editions of Wednesday, January 21, 1998, was shocking: “Clinton Accused of Urging Aide to Lie.” Bill had spent a tense night and early morning on the phone with Vernon Jordan, Bob Bennett, Bruce Lindsey, David Kendall, and Betty Currie, talking about the story and trying to keep his legal ducks aligned. Hillary said later he nudged her awake just after 7 A.M. and sat on the edge of their bed. “You’re not going to believe this,” she quoted him telling her, but there were “news reports” blanketing the Internet and airwaves as well, that he had had an affair with a young White House intern named Monica Lewinsky and had asked her to lie about it to Paula Jones’s lawyers.

I believe in the simple things--the classic beginning of once upon a time, that good conquers evil in the end, fantasy and fate. My life is that of wondrous enchantment, a place of endless possibilities and dreams, where inspiration is found in the oddest of places. I aspire to inspire, and someday I will change the world,

grief. We do and say strange things—sometimes bizarre things—when we are swallowed up in grief. No one should be hard on us when we say thoughtless and selfish things when we are in grief. Both Mary and Martha accused Jesus of being the cause of their brother’s death by not responding immediately to their request: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21, 32). Jesus did not rebuke either of them. Instead, He wept with them (see John 11:35). So with all of us. He knows our frame; He remembers we are dust.

The problem is, getting business is part of the business. It’s like a ritual with these guys: ‘Hey, how ‘bout those Club’ “ – the bad male impression was back – “ ‘let’s play some golf, smoke some cigars. Here’s my penis, there’s yours – yep, they appear to be about the same size – okay, let’s do some deals.’ “ When the woman seated at the next table threw them a disapproving look over the foam of her jumbo-sized cappuccino, Laney leaned in toward Payton. “Let’s use our inside voices, please, when using the p-word,” she whispered chidingly.

How did you find out?” he asked. I dropped the coat I’d been holding. “How do you think? She told me. She couldn’t wait to tell me.” He sighed and sat on the arm of my couch and stared into space. “That’s it? You have nothing else to say?” I asked. “I’m sorry. God, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.” “Were you ever going to tell me?” “Yeah...of course.” His voice was so sweet and so gentle that it momentarily defused the anger that wanted to explode out of me. I stared at him, looking hard into those amber brown eyes. “She said...she said you didn’t drink, but you did, right? That’s what happened?” I sounded like I was Kendall’s age and suspected I wore the pleading expression Yasmine had given Jerome. Seth’s face stayed expressionless. “No, Thetis. I wasn’t drunk. I didn’t drink at all.” I sank down into the arm chair opposite him. “Then…then…what happened?” It took a while for him to get the story out. I could see the two warring halves within him: the one that wanted to be open and the one that hated to tell me things I wouldn’t like. “I was so upset after what happened with us. I was actually on the verge of calling that guy…what’s his name? Niphon. I couldn’t stand it—I wanted to fix things between us. But just before I did, I ran into Maddie. I was so…I don’t know. Just confused. Distraught. She asked me to get food, and before I knew it, I’d accepted.” He raked a hand through his hair, neutral expression turning confused and frustrated. “And being with her…she was just so nice. Sweet. Easy to talk to. And after leaving things off physically with you, I’d been kind of…um…” “Aroused? Horny? Lust-filled?” He grimaced. “Something like that. But, I don’t know. There was more to it than just that.” The tape in my mind rewound. “Did you say you were going to call Niphon?” “Yeah. We’d talked at poker…and then he called me once. Said if I ever wanted…he could make me a deal. I thought it was crazy at the time, but after I left you that night…I don’t know. It just made me wonder if maybe it was worth it to live the life I wanted and make it so you wouldn’t have to worry so much.” “Maddie coming along was a blessing then,” I muttered. Christ. Seth had seriously considered selling his soul. I really needed to deal with Niphon. He hadn’t listened to me when I’d told him to leave Seth alone. I wanted to rip the imp’s throat out, but my revenge would have to wait. I took a deep breath. “Well,” I told Seth. “That’s that. I can’t say I like it…but, well…it’s over.” He tilted his head curiously. “What do you mean?” “This. This Maddie thing. You finally had a fling. We’ve always agreed you could, right? I mean, it’s not fair for me to be the only one who gets some. Now we can move on.” A long silence fell. Aubrey jumped up beside me and rubbed her head against my arm. I ran a hand over her soft fur while I waited for Seth’s response. “Georgina,” he said at last. “You know…I’ve told you…well. I don’t really have flings.” My hand froze on Aubrey’s back. “What are you saying?” “I…don’t have flings.” “Are you saying you want to start something with her?” He looked miserable. “I don’t know.

Politeness as filtered through fragility and supremacy isn’t about manners; it’s about a methodology of controlling the conversation. Polite white people who respond to calls for respect, for getting boots off necks with demand for decorum, aren’t interested in resistance or disruption. They are interested in control. They replicate the manners of Jim Crow America, demanding deference and obedience; they want the polite facade instead of disruption. They insist that they know best what should be done when attempting to battle and defeat bias, but in actuality they’re just happy to be useless. They are obstacles to freedom who feel no remorse, who provide no valuable insight, because ultimately, they are content to get in the way. They’re oppression tourists, virtue-signaling volunteers who are really just here to get what they can and block the way, so no others can pass without meeting whatever arbitrary standards they create. And if you get enough of them in one place, they can prevent any real progress from occurring while they reap the benefits of straddling white supremacy and being woke. They have less power than they think, than anyone realizes, but like any small predator, they manage to be flashy enough to be seen.