Kitt Quotes

That’s it. You’re doing great, Winnow.” “Shut up, Kitt.” “Absolutely. Whatever you want.

Write me a story where there is no ending, Kitt. Write to me and fill my empty spaces.

It’s all about falling in love with yourself and sharing that love with someone who appreciates you, rather than looking for love to compensate for a self love deficit.

She tasted sweet, like oranges, liquid sunshine in my mouth as we kissed, our tongues playing together.

I fall in love with myself, and I want someone to share it with me. And I want someone to share me, with me.

Everything beautiful, everything bold, everything breathtaking- that is what I feel in her gaze. That, and terrified. Terrified of what she is doing to me. She is a vision, a nightmare, a dream. A grim reaper clad in black, come to steal my soul and my heart. I've never seen something so beautiful, so bold, so blatantly wrong for me. She is a devil. She is a deity. She is a man's downfall in human form. She is my downfall. Then her eyes drift to Kitt. The connection snaps. And I'm left feeling empty besides the jealousy growing inside me. Why did I ever think I could have ever, ever think she would have me? Because beasts don't get the beauty.

I am learning all the time. My tombstone will be my diploma.

I am more than willing to rip your dresses for you, Gray. To help, of course.” Kitt snorts while Kai smirks. “You only need to ask.” “Why ask when you’re so eager to offer?

A man has always wanted to lay me down but he never wanted to pick me up.

Iris frowned. “You’re distracting me, Kitt.” “I’m pleased to hear it. Now you know how I’ve felt all this bloody time, Iris.

Most people who think they're happy are really just stupid.

My recipe for life is not being afraid of myself, afraid of what I think or of my opinions.

I do not have an act. I just do Eartha Kitt... I want to be whoever Eartha Kitt is until the gods take me wherever they take me.

Be yourself, there is no one better.

Write me a story where there is no ending, Kitt.

I’m a dirt person. I trust the dirt. I don’t trust diamonds and gold.

We lay that way for a while, breathing together, watching the shadows flicker over the walls and each other's faces. She played with a wet strand of my hair, wrapping it around her finger. It should have been awkward, but somehow it wasn't. I felt something moving between us, like light or heat, growing with every breath.

She and Roman would survive this war. They would have the chance to grow old together, year by year. They would be friends until they both finally acknowledged the truth. And they would have everything that other couples had—the arguments and the hand-holding in the market and the gradual exploration of their bodies and the birthday celebrations and the journeys to new cities and the living as one and sharing a bed and the gradual sense of melting into each other. Their names would be entwined—Roman and Iris or Winnow and Kitt because could you truly have one without the other?—and they would write on their typewriters and ruthlessly edit each other’s pieces and read books by candlelight at night.

Pandora's Box could not be unopened, no one could return to Eden.

They would be friends until they both finally acknowledged the truth. And they would have everything that other couples had—the arguments and the hand-holding in the market and the gradual exploration of their bodies and the birthday celebrations and the journeys to new cities and the living as one and sharing a bed and the gradual sense of melting into each other. Their names would be entwined—Roman and Iris or Winnow and Kitt because could you truly have one without the other?

And that is why you will be ruling the country,” I say simply, “while I’ll be fighting on the battlefield, distracting the enemy with my dashing good looks.” “Are you saying I couldn’t distract the enemy with my own dashing good looks?” Kitt asks through his deep laughter, feigning offense. “I’m saying that we are only half brothers, so I’m afraid that means you only have half my charms.

I am more than willing to rip your dresses for you, Gray. To help, of course.” Kitt snorts while Kai smirks. “You only need to ask.

Innocence could be lost more than once after all.

The stage floor was a stage of thin ice for me to tread. To hold my own or to sink through and die, never to be remembered.

When I played Lady Day, I took Aba onstage with me as a joke. He started singing—in tune!—and the audience loved it. Eartha Kitt, when asked what tricks her poodle did.

Nothing stayed, nothing ever changed. But love, only love, that was the true part of the story, no matter what the beginning, middle or end.

You look well today, Winnow.” “Are you implying I looked ill before, Kitt?

She said, “I think you’ve made me brave, Kitt.” His breath escaped him, a tenuous unspooling, as if he had been holding it in years for her. “My Iris,” he said, “there is no question that you are the brave one, all on your own.

If you have to force it, leave it. Friendships. Yoga poses. Relationships. Food. A fart. No matter what, that shit ain’t worth it. -Note to Self Kitt

I don’t know who I would be without you, but you have made me in all ways better than I ever was or could have ever hoped to be. - Roman Kitt

Hmm,” Kitt hums. Even with my back to him, I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Can’t stop thinking about the girl who saved your life, huh?

We're all rejected people, we know what it is to be refused, we know what it is to be oppressed, depressed, and then, accused, and I am very much cognizant of that feeling. Nothing in the world is more painful than rejection. I am a rejected, oppressed person, and so I understand them, as best as I can, even though I am a ❗☒

We're all rejected people, we know what it is to be refused, we know what it is to be oppressed, depressed, and then, accused, and I am very much cognizant of that feeling. Nothing in the world is more painful than rejection. I am a rejected, oppressed person, and so I understand them, as best as I can, even though I am a heterosexual.

When you have to hide who you really are to the world, you create a shell around yourself over time. A painted on coating of lies. It becomes your shield...and your prison.

If you had touched me today, Kitt. I don't think I could've hidden it anymore. Who you are to me. Who I am to you.

2. Goth girls. Streaked purple and black hair, tattoos, a sexy little tramp stamp on the lower back, navel rings, tongue studs… nipple rings… ripped fishnets and high heels, dark clothes and dark moods. Makes me want to peel it all off and find the soft spots underneath, the sweetness at the center… mmmm.

I am too small to contain what I feel.

...She expected people to accept her for who she was. But she never really accepted herself.

Google is so strange. It promises everything, but everything isn't there. You type in the words for what you need, and what you need becomes superfluous in an instant, shadowed instantaneously by the things you really need, and none of them answerable by Google....Sure, there's a certain charm to being able to look up and watch Eartha Kitt singing Old Fashioned Millionaire in 1957 at three in the morning or Hayley Mills singing a song about femininity from an old Disney film. But the charm is a kind of deception about a whole new way of feeling lonely, a semblance of plenitude but really a new level of Dante's inferno, a zombie-filled cemetery of spurious clues, beauty, pathos, pain, the faces of puppies, women and men from all over the world tied up and wanked over in site after site, a great sea of hidden shallows. More and more, the pressing human dilemma: how to walk a clean path between obscenities.

The most powerful man paired with the most powerless woman. “It would be an honor to be your partner, Kitt,” I say softly, smiling slightly. Play the part. Kitt chuckles, sounding relieved. “I was hoping you would say that, Paedyn.

I made a deal with the devil. I sold my soul for vengeance.

When I was little, I thought the stars were holes that God had cut into the sky so that the sun could shine through at night

I’m trying to cut down on my fucking swearing. Let’s fucking see how the fuck that fucking goes. Fuck. -Text from Kitt to Ridley Apple

Roman Confounded Kitt.

She thought of Carver, but she fell asleep to the metallic song of Roman Kitt’s typing.

Iris! Iris, it’s me, Kitt.

They say love is blind, but it´s not. It´s not blind or deaf-it´s dumb. We still see and hear everything, we just don´t ever say so. Love makes forget who we are without that other person.

If you need a reason to get involved in world politics, all you need to do is watch a playground of children for awhile. Imagine a world that happy and free all the time, that vision is the future worth fighting for.

You flatter yourself...you're too young for me to take you seriously.

Everything beautiful, everything bold, everything breathtaking - that is what I feel in her gaze. That, and terrified. Terrified of what she is doing to me. She is a vision, a nightmare, a dream. A grim reaper clad in black, come to steal my soul and my heart. I've never seen something so beautiful, so bold, so blatantly wrong for me. She is a devil. She is a deity. She's a man's downfall in human form. She is my downfall. Then her eyes drift to Kitt. The connection snaps. And I'm left feeling empty besides the jealousy growing inside me. Why did I ever think I could have her, ever think she would have me? Because beasts don't get the beauty.

But I don´t want to lose you, Leah. I don´t want to be without you, ever again. I woke up this morning and found you gone, and I thought...it was like my heart had just walked out the door by itself.

Funny how the universe repeated patterns ad infinitum, generation after generation, until someone finally turned around and started walking in the other direction.

I love you. And I love you enough to let you go, if I have to. If it´s what will make you happy, I´m okay with that. Whatever you decide.

It's all about falling in love with yourself and sharing that love with someone who appreciates you, rather than looking for love to compensate for a self love deficit.

with each day that passed, she was beginning to realize that Roman Kitt was a mystery. A mystery she was tempted to solve.

Attie smiled, tugging on her hand. “I’m telling you that Roman Carver Kitt is in the garden, waiting to marry you.

I am more than willing to rip your dresses for you, Gray. To help, of course.’ Kitt snorts while Kai smirks. ‘You only need to ask.’ ‘Why ask when you’re so eager to offer?

Your answers lie here," Rovender said, gesturing around the library.

Desire doesn’t want exposure, the light or the sun.  Lust seeks darkness, a deep, secret heat, something buried, a treasure to find.

She had never been afraid to be Black in a White world, and she had sure taken a lot of abuse because of it.

But sometimes you just can’t tell people things. Sometimes they just have to happen. Life will happen to you. Trust me, it will. No need to hurry it along.

In merging nature and culture the most successful cities combine such universal needs as maintaining or restoring contact with the cycles of nature, with specific, local characteristics.

Turns out, while all light pollution is bad for astrophysics, the low-pressure sodium lamps are least bad because their contamination can be easily subtracted from telescope data. In a model of cooperation, the entire city of Tucson, Arizona, the nearest large municipality to the Kitt Peak National Observatory, has, by agreement with the local astrophysicists, converted all its streetlights to low-pressure sodium lamps.

Your mother contained a good spirit. A loving spirit. A spirit that will not cease to exist. Eva looked at him, her brows furrowed. Rovender placed his arm around Eva's shoulders. "You see, she lives within you now, in all of the lessons that she taught you. Lessons you will never forget. Lessons you will always carry with you... and will one day pass on.

I have so much more t'teach ye." He chuckled, kissing her fully on the mouth, holding her little body in his arms. "More?" Her eyes lit up. "Aye, much, much more," he agreed, eyes alight. "Come wit' me, lass. Let's get cleaned up so we can get dirty again.

Evolution requires intermediate forms between species and palaeontology does not provide them.

True, it has given its life," Rovender said. "But its energy, its spirit, will replenish yours. Respect that and enjoy the meal.

Man was not designed to eat pills and powders and all the other chemicals they pump you full of. We were meant to live off the land in harmony with it. Not in some safety bubble.

Nah.” His arms tightened around her. “I think the Bible got it backwards. I think God made women first. Then he made man, because he thought, ‘Someone’s gotta see this!

It’s not the dying that matters, it’s the living. It’s the living that counts. And I want to live the hell out of this life with you.

hard. I gasped, clinging to him as he entered me, feeling my body opening to him in a bright red burst.

Too often we look back on our lives with regret. What is done, is done. We learned lessons from those mistakes. Every day is a new beginning.

Tú y yo nunca fuimos enemigos, Kitt. No exactamente.

Escríbeme una historia que no tenga fin, Kitt. Escríbeme y llena mis vacíos.

We go together like fuck and you. -Kitt

I take super hot showers because I like to practice burning in hell. -Kitt to Ridley Kitt

Sleep is for the dead." -Kitt

Their names would be entwined—Roman and Iris or Winnow and Kitt because could you truly have one without the other?—

As soon as he heard the locks slide, Roman Kitt turned and left.

Now, please move, Kitt.” “Don’t go, Iris,

Parks, plazas, gardens, and rooftops are culture-producing places, not merely place for retreat. Sidewalks and bridges become ends in themselves instead of just a means of getting from one place to another.

Let's see... "Advanced Flanking Theory", by U.R. Skrood. "Fighting on the Grid", by Minnie Churse. "Moving on Diagonals", by Wun and Ahaff. Ah ha! Here it is: "Attacks of Opportunity Explained", by Ben Dover and Taye Kitt.

Oh, and Kai?" she calls, her voice casual. And then I'm ducking. She spun, throwing the knife so suddenly that I barely had time to dodge it before it sank into the wooden target a few feet behind me. "I don't want your mercy. Next time we fight," I can see her blue eyes smoldering from where I stand, "impress me." A low whistle sounds from the crowd-Kitt, of course. Ignoring him, I shake my head, grinning at her as she turns away from me. Vicious little thing, indeed.

Been thinking about what you said, about whether you can be a feminist and a romantic. Love this quote from the singer Eartha Kitt: “I fall in love with myself, and I want someone to share it with me. I want someone to share me with me.” That’s how I feel.

My own walls caved. Tears trickled from the corner of my eyes. Then strong arms enveloped me. “Don’t cry.” Ben’s hot breath on my cheek. “We’ll find her. And the twins. I promise.” “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I hiccupped. “People always do that.” “I mean it.” Firmly spoken. “I won’t let us fail. Not at this.” The sobs broke free. I burrowed into Ben’s chest, letting everything go. I cried and cried and cried, unthinking, releasing a week’s worth of pent-up emotion in a few hot seconds. Ben held me, silent, softly rubbing my back. A thought floated from somewhere far away. This isn’t so bad. I pushed away, gently breaking Ben’s embrace. Looked into his eyes. His face was a whisper from mine. I thought of Ben’s confession during the hurricane. How he’d wanted to be more than just packmates. Emotions swirled in my chest, making me dizzy. Off balance. “Ben . . . I . . .” “Tory?” My father’s voice sent us flying apart as if electroshocked. Kit was descending the steps, an odd look on his face. “Yes?” Discreetly wiping away tears. I saw a thousand questions fill Kitt’s eyes, but, thankfully, he kept them shelved. “I hate to do this, kiddo, but Whitney’s party starts in an hour. She’s trying to be patient, but, frankly, that isn’t her strong suit.” “No. Right.” I stood, smoothing clothes and hair. “Mustn’t keep the Duchess waiting.” Kit frowned. “Say the word, and we cancel right now. No question.” “No, sorry. I was just being flip. It’s really fine.” Forced smile. “Might be just the thing.” “All right, then. We need to get moving.” Kit glanced at Ben, still sitting on the bench, striving for invisible. A smile quirked my father’s lips. “And you, Mr. Blue? Ready for a good ol’-fashioned backyard barbeque? My daughter will be there.” Ben’s uneasy smile was his only response.

She had a beautiful cunt, her dark pubic hair sparse, her outer lips swollen, but the inner ones pink and puffy and always peeking out a little. Her clit hid at the top, the button of her pleasure center that Carrie loved to control with her fingers, her mouth, her tongue.

Fine. The reason for me scrunching my nose,” I throw him an annoyed glance I likely shouldn’t have, “is because of all the shillings.” When I don’t say anything more, Kitt urges, “Go on.” “Well, money like this could feed dozens of Ilyans in the slums for weeks, months even,” I say evenly. “And yet, here it sits, wasting away for people’s wishes.” Kitt’s eyes flick to the fountain, and he frowns. “You’re right. I’ll see about having it removed and distributed.” My heart leaps against my chest. “Really?” His frown flips into a wide grin. “We made a deal, remember? You keep looking at me, and I’ll keep listening to you.

(By the way, isn’t it time that I became a GPS voice? You can download Gary Busey, KITT from Knight Rider, and Flavor Flav. There has to be a market for William Shatner giving you directions! Let’s talk, GPS manufacturers. And unlike the sexy lady voice on most units, I can actually pronounce “Sepulveda Boulevard” properly.)

It’s difficult to keep killing people you’d much rather have sex with.

Catch me I'm falling. Please hear me calling. Catch me before it's too late!

Can I kiss you?” she barely whispered, her eyes moving to my lips. I nodded, and she touched her mouth to mine, her arms going around me.

He gently ran his nose over the edge of my jaw, inhaling me deeply before pulling back, hovering just over my lips. I wanted to kiss him. And scent him. And make love to him. I hated him so much.

It's stiff, the fabric hugging my hips, making it impossible to move freely. "Go on." It's Kai's taunting voice I hear behind me. "Ask for my help, Gray." I roll my eyes at the wall in front of me. "Stubborn, remember?" I hear Kitt's chuckle before I feel hands brushing my legs. Startled, I look down, eyes landing on a bent head of messy black waves. Kai is gripping the bottom seam of my dress, his eyes flicking up to mine. "May I?" His voice is soft, tone amused. I swallow, roll my eyes once again, and nod against my better judgment. And then he's ripping my dress. He tears the fabric easily, creating a slit up the side of my thigh, freeing me from the tight confines of the fabric. His rough fingers briefly brush my skin as he says, "I am more than willing to rip your dresses for you, Gray. To help, of course." Kitt snorts while Kai smirks. "You only need to ask." "Why ask when you're so eager to offer?" Kai's laughter follows me as I finally pull myself up, arms burning with the strain.

His delicate blue-ish cheeks dusted the softest shade of pink, and he bit that bottom lip again. The backdrop of thick black trees, and grey and white grass made his colors even more vivid. Pink, blue, purple, with big, green eyes. He was a tiny rainbow in a sea of black.

Many Americans often refer to Elizabeth II as ‘Queen Elizabeth of England’ - however, as any Brit will tell you, that’s wrong - they’ll say she is in fact Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. But of course they’re wrong as well. Her majesty is in fact Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Jamaica, Barbados, the Bahamas, Grenada, Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands, Tuvalu, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Belize, Antigua and Barbuda, and Saint Kitts and Nevis.

Write me a story, Kitt,” she whispered, kissing his brow, the hollow of his cheek. His lips and his throat, until she felt like love was an axe that had cleaved her chest open. Her very heart was beating in the air. “Write me a story where you keep me up late every night with your typing, and I hide messages in your pockets for you to find while you’re at work. Write me a story where we first met on a street corner, and I spilled coffee on your expensive trench coat, or when we crossed paths at our favorite bookshop, and I recommended poetry, and you recommended myths. Or that time when the deli got our sandwich orders wrong, or when we ended up sitting next to each other at the ball game, or I dared to take the train west just to see how far I could go, and you just so happened to be there too.” She swallowed the ache in her throat, leaning back to meet his gaze. Gently, as if he were a dream, she touched his hair. She smoothed the dark tendrils from his brow. “Write me a story where there is no ending, Kitt. Write to me and fill my empty spaces.” Ronan held her gaze, desperation gleaming in his eyes. An expression flickered over his face, one she had never seen before. It looked like both pleasure and pain, like he was drowning in her and her words. They were iron and salt, a blade and a remedy, and he was taking a final gasp of air.

She and Roman would survive this war. They would have the chance to grow old together, year by year. They would be friends until they both finally acknowledged the truth. And they would have everything that other couples had—the arguments and the hand-holding in the market and the gradual exploration of their bodies and the birthday celebrations and the journeys to new cities and the living as one and sharing a bed and the gradual sense of melting into each other. Their names would be entwined—Roman and Iris or Winnow and Kitt because could you truly have one without the other?—and they would write on their typewriters and ruthlessly edit each other’s pieces and read books by candlelight at night. She wanted him. Leaving him behind in the trenches wasn’t even a possibility.

It's like a tangible tether between us, this consuming connection. I will her to meet my eyes, and when they do- Sparks. Electricity. Everything beautiful, everything bold, everything breathtaking- that is what I feel in her gaze. That, and terrified. Terrified of what she is doing to me. She is a vision, a nightmare, a dream. A grim reaper clad in black, come to steal my soul and my heart. I've never seen something so beautiful, so bold, so blatantly wrong for me. She is a devil. She is a deity. She is a man's downfall in human form. She is my downfall. Then her eyes drift to Kitt. The connection snaps. And I'm left feeling empty besides the jealousy growing inside me. Why did I ever think I could have her, ever think she would have me? Because beasts don't get the beauty.

I think I’m drowning. But not into her blue eyes like I happily would. No, I’m sinking into the floor, letting it swallow me whole. I can hardly breathe under the crushing weight of Kitt’s words. My ears ring. My heart pounds. The command echoes in my skull, though I have no idea why he would want this. Why he would want her. Not now. Not after everything. I’m surrounded by the entire court and the only thing I can focus on is not falling to my knees beside her. Marriage. Marriage to someone who isn’t me. Marriage to someone I will spend the rest of my life serving. I’ll lose her forever while being forced to watch. I can’t even look at her. I’m a coward, morphing back into the monster I was when she found me. My vision is blurry, eyes fixed on the dais above. This is how I lose her. Not by death but by something just as binding. The command rings in my head. And to think I wasted so much time trying to hate her. To think I won’t have enough time to love her. My heart aches because every beat belongs to her. And I may never get to tell her that. Is this how she will remember me? Escorting her to this fate? Bound by duty alone? I could laugh. I could cry. I could burn this palace to the ground like I did her house, just for a chance to confess my love before the flames consumed me. Because I am bound to her very being. Hers until the day she realizes I don’t deserve to be. The king’s eyes are on me while mine are somewhere far away. Somewhere with her. A place where I am nothing and no one and happy being powerless, so long as she is beside me. My gaze falls from the fantasy, finding its way to her. This is not how I will remember us. Not as enemies or traitors or monsters, but as two people dancing in the dark, swaying beneath the stars. Her feet atop mine, her head on the heart that beats only for her. Just Pae and Kai. I step away from her kneeling form, masking every emotion with a blank stare. I’m leaving her to face him. Her future husband. I melt into the crowd, standing at a safe enough distance to prevent myself from stealing her away. This will be the rest of my life. Forced to love her from a distance. Mourn the loss of her each day. But I will. I will smother every emotion but the one that belongs to her. I will love her until I am incapable of the feeling. She is the torture I may not survive. Eagerly, she is my undoing. Her gaze lifts, meeting eyes that are not my own. Eyes of the man who gets to have her—if she allows it. She was supposed to be my forever. Now I’ll watch her become someone else’s. Because the beast doesn’t get the beauty.

I had 'em set a table for ye in 'ere," he explained, nodding at the dishes. "Thought ye might like some stew." "No, thank you." Her stomach growled audibly and he arched his eyebrows again, a gesture that Sibyl found infuriating. Almost as infuriating as being called "skinny." And "lass." "This jus' rabbit." He smiled like he could read her mind, going over to the fire and using a long, thick pole with hooked end to lift a black iron pot. "We don't eat humans, Sibyl.