Nails Pampering Quotes

Mark but this flea, and mark in this, How little that which thou deniest me is; Me it sucked first, and now sucks thee, And in this flea our two bloods mingled be; Thou know’st that this cannot be said A sin, or shame, or loss of maidenhead, Yet this enjoys before it woo, And pampered swells with one blood made of two, And this, alas, is more than we would do. Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare, Where we almost, nay more than married are. This flea is you and I, and this Our mariage bed and mariage temple is; Though parents grudge, and you, we are met, And cloisterd in these living walls of jet. Though use make you apt to kill me, Let not to that, self-murder added be, And sacrilege, three sins in killing three. Cruel and sudden, hast thou since Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence? Wherein could this flea guilty be, Except in that drop which it sucked from thee? Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now; ’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be: Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me, Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.

She glanced again at her hair and nails. A very unkempt, wild-looking pet. She strode into her dressing room. She’d decide what to do about Doneval and his agenda later. For now, not even the rain would keep her from a little pampering.

I was not some pampered, cloistered Emperor’s get. I had clawed my way tooth and nail to this position, defying my father and teaching myself his magic. I was Lin, and I was Emperor. “Riya has an interesting way of greeting guests, Sai,” I said, my voice even. “Honored ones in particular.

How long have you known about him?” I asked Jesse, using my free hand to gesture toward his guest. “Forever. Nearly as long as I did about you.” “God, Jesse. Why didn’t you say anything?” “He was a shadow of you.” Jesse shrugged. “His background is diluted, his dragon blood les strong. Even with you in his proximity, I wasn’t certain any of his drakon traits would emerge. He hasn’t anywhere near your potential.” “Pardon me,” Armand said, freezingly polite, “but he is still right here with you in this room.” “Do you mean…I did it?” I asked. “I made him figure it out? What he is?” Jesse gave me an assessing look. “Like is drawn to like. We’re all three of us thick with magic now, even if it’s different kinds. It’s inevitable that we’ll feed off one another. The only way to prevent that would be to separate. And even then it might not be enough. Too much has already begun.” “I don’t want to separate from you,” I said. “No.” Jesse lifted our hands and gave mine a kiss. “Don’t worry about that.” Armand practically rolled his eyes. “If you two are quite done, might we talk some sense tonight? It’s late, I’m tired, and your ruddy chair, Holms, is about as comfortable as sitting on a tack. I want to…” But his voice only faded into silence. He closed his eyes and raised a hand to his face and squeezed the bridge of his nose. I noted again those shining nails. The elegance of his bones beneath his flawless skin. Skin that was marble-pale, I realized. Just like mine. “Yes?” I said, more gently than I’d intended. “Excuse me. I’m finding this all a bit…impossible to process. I’m beginning to believe that this is the most profoundly unpleasant dream I’ve ever been caught in.” “Allow me to assure you that you’re awake, Lord Armand,” I retorted, all gentleness gone. “To wit: You hear music no one else does. Distinctive music from gemstones and all sorts of metals. That day I played the piano at Tranquility, I was playing your father’s ruby song, one you must have heard exactly as I did. Exactly as your mother would have. You also have, perhaps, something like a voice inside you. Something specific and base, stronger than instinct, hopeless to ignore. Animals distrust you. You might even dream of smoke or flying.” He dropped his arm. “You got that from the diary.” “No, I got that from my own life. And damned lucky you are to have been brought into this world as a pampered little prince instead of spending your childhood being like this and still having to fend for yourself, as I did.” “Right. Lucky me.” Armand looked at Jesse, his eyes glittering. “And what are you? Another dragon? A gargoyle, perchance, or a werecat?” “Jesse is a star.” The hand went up to conceal his face again. “Of course he is. The. Most. Unpleasant. Dream. Ever.” I separated my hand from Jesse’s, angling for more bread. “I think you’re going to have to show him.” “Aye.” A single blue eye blinked open between Armand’s fingers. “Show me what?

Lakia yawns. “I hope all your courtesans aren’t defeated so easily.” “Yes, it will make for a tedious day,” Tarek replies, sipping his flask. I cut them a glare. Ameya just sacrificed her life. She wanted freedom from being a courtesan so much that death was a better alternative. I want to shred Tarek’s pampered face with my nails, but I do as Mathura said. I absorb my hatred and let it feed me, transforming it into something bigger, meaner, uglier. I will wait. I will crouch in the dark until the time is ripe, and then I will eat Rajah Tarek alive.

We have taxes upon every article that enters into the mouth, or covers the back, or is placed under the foot; taxes upon everything which it is pleasant to feel, smell, or taste; taxes on everything in the earth, or in the waters under the earth; on everything that comes from abroad or that is grown at home ; taxes on the raw material; taxes on every value that is added to it by the industry of man ; taxes on the sauce which pampers man's appetite, and on the drug which restores him to health ; on the ermine which covers the judge, and the rope that hangs the criminal; on the poor man's salt, and the rich man's spice; on the brass nails of the coffin, and the ribbons of the bride; — on bed and board — couchant or levant — we must pay. The schoolboy whips his taxed top; the beardless youth manages a taxed horse, with a taxed bridle, on a taxed road; and the dying Englishman, pouring his medicine, which has paid seven per cent, into a spoon which has paid fifteen per cent, flings himself back upon his chintz bed, which has paid twenty-two per cent, and expires in the arms of an apothecary who has paid a license of one hundred pounds for the privilege of presiding at his death-bed. His whole property is then taxed from two to twenty per cent. Besides the probate, large fees are demanded for burying him in the chancel ; his virtues are handed down to posterity on taxed marble, and he is gathered to his fathers to be taxed no more.

Bailey sat on the edge of the couch and fed Maddy grapes. The very swollen mommy-to-be initially complained about being fed like a pet. Eventually, she gave in and enjoyed the attention. Not to be outdone, Sawyer turned a fan towards Maddy and was painting her nails. I watched them baby her and wondered about when I would be that big and uncomfortable. “I’m in no hurry to have a baby,” Tawny said, maybe for the tenth time since arriving. “Not in any hurry at all.” Farah grinned from where she was cutting carrots into little perfect sticks for dipping. “Coop is obsessed with getting me pregnant. First, his little brother is about to have a baby then his best friend. I swear whenever we’re alone, he’s inside me,” she said then her smile grew. “It’s awesome.” “Huh,” Tawny muttered. “Judd is in me all the time too and not because he’s trying to plant his flag or lay his seed or whatever.” “Jealous?” Farah asked and Tawny fake glared at her. “Sometimes, my sister irritates me too,” I said and they both laughed. “I’m going to brush the baby’s hair,” Bailey announced to no one in particular. “When she’s old enough, I’m going to put those little barrettes in her hair and make her wear headbands and turn her into a doll. Then when she cries, I’m giving her back to Maddy.” “Yeah for me,” Maddy whispered with her eyes closed. “Are you suffering?” Bailey asked. “Like should I do more for you to ease away the horror of how huge you’ve become?” Opening her eyes a crack, Maddy muttered, “Stop charming me.” Bailey grinned. “Seriously, you look pretty miserable today.” “I’ve been having those Braxton Hicks contractions since yesterday.” “Is that bad?” Sawyer asked, looking up from her meticulous work on Maddy’s toes. “Is it like hemorrhoids?” When we laughed, Sawyer beamed, even though she likely had no idea what was funny. “They’re like practice contractions,” Maddy explained. “They don’t hurt much, but they’re uncomfortable.” Bailey frowned. “How do you know all this stuff?” “I read a book.” “Yeah, I did that once. Not a fan.” “You guys don’t have to hang out here,” Maddy said. “The guys are out having fun and you’re pampering me. You could go to the movies if you want.” “No,” Bailey said quickly. “I need to be super nice because I had a dream that being nice will lead to a handsome awesome guy who is the fucker. I want that guy. He belongs to me and I’m sick of waiting, so shut up and let me be nice to you.” “Sure,” Maddy said, sighing. “This is nice, but I’m going to have to pee soon.” “Do you need me to carry you?” Bailey asked. “Maybe. Ask me in a few minutes.

Do go in for cosmetics in a serious way. Not any old cream, but the right creams. The right coiffure too, and the right nail polish, and all the other beauty tricks that make you feel elegant. This is the kind of pampering that pays. There are other good kinds: a glass of sherry and an extra special dinner charmingly served on a night when you're tired and all alone; bath salts in your tub and toilet-water afterward; a new and spicy book when you're spending an evening in bed; a trim little cotton frock that flatters you on an odd morning when you decide to be violently domestic. The notion that 'it doesn't matter because nobody sees you', with the dull meals and dispirited clothes that follow in its wake, has done more damage than all the floods of springtime.