Renee Good Quotes

I am a bad person trying very hard to be a good person.

For a story was only as good as its villain.

The worst kind of lie—the kind shrouded in good intentions. The kind cowards use to justify their weakness.

Wisdom is not the same as information; it's something entirely different. It's often mistaken for good advice, but wisdom cannot be imparted to someone. Wisdom can only be earned.

Sometimes we must fall forward to keep moving. Remain motionless—remain unyielding—and you are as good as dead. Death follows indecision, like a twisted shadow. Fall forward. Keep moving. Even if you must pick yourself up first.

It’s like reading a good book. The kind where you don’t want to skip pages to see what happens at the end. Each moment is a story in itself.

For it was easy to be good and kind in times of plenty. The trying times were the moments that defined a man.

It was easy to be good and kind in times of plenty. The trying times were the moments that defined a man. And love? Love was something that did much to change a person. It brought joy as it brought suffering, and in turn brought about those moments that defined one’s character. Love gave life to the lifeless. It was the greatest of all living powers. But, as with all things, love had a dark side to it.

„Are you a good spy?“ „The best.“ „A good spy would hide her identity.“ „The best spies don’t have to.

There is potential for boundless good in the boy I knew. Trust that the man you see now is a shadow of what lies beneath. If you would, give him the love that will enable him to see it for himself. To a lost soul, such a treasure is worth its weight in gold. Worth its weight in dreams.

It was the last thing I ever said to her. A lie. The worst kind of lie --the kind shrouded in good intentions. The kind cowards use to justify their weakness.

Wisdom is not the same as information; it's something entirely different. It's often mistaken as good advise, but wisdom cannot be imparted to someone. Wisdom can only be earned; it's a by-product of experience, not necessarily knowledge.

My pillow is as good as any ocean to drown in the nightmare of myself. I swam all the way here from the moon.

For my son, born of a dragon and a phoenix. Fight not for greatness, but for goodness.

I prefer to think of it as a knack for coming to your rescue," he declares huskily and winks, before he proceeds to wipe up my mess. Oh good God. I've made Chris Merit my janitor. And, he winked at me. I can barely breathe.

He was good at that. Good at robbing the world of light, even in its barest measure.

What good was speaking when I'd determined none of the world listened to one another, especially not when a woman was speaking.

Isn’t that all we need to hear sometimes—that you’re a good mom or friend or daughter or wife?

I raised an eyebrow. "You know, you're really good at compliments. Actually, it's surprising that a person with charm like yours has any enemies." The words came out before I could stop them. At this rate I would never be able to ask him about Benjamin Gallow, and it didn't help that every time he looked at me I wanted to melt. "So, you think I'm charming?" Dante countered, mocking me. "Is that why you keep staring at me?" "Alarming, not charming. And no, I'm just curious.

Saying I’m fat is (and should be) the same as saying my shoes are black, the clouds are fluffy, and Bob Saget is tall. It’s not good, it’s not bad, it just is. The only negativity that this word carries is that which has been socially constructed around it.… We don’t need to stop using the word fat, we need to stop the hatred that our world connects with the word fat.2

Passion is (NOT) what you're good at. It's what you enjoy the most.

You have always been so wild at heart. Like a wildfire that can never be tamed. That’s why I had to let you go.

it’s like reading a good book. The kind where you don’t want to skip pages to see what happens at the end. Each moment is a story in itself.

Renee smiled. "Maybe not. I am a bad person trying very hard to be a good person,

The wild is where you find it, not in some distant world relegated to a nostalgic past or an idealized future; its presence is not black or white, bad or good, corrupted or innocent... We are of that nature, not apart from it. We survive because of it, not instead of it.

He reminded me of a bad habit.

We’re not even thirty yet, Chuck.” “I know, but I’m getting there, you know, to that point of no return where no one will be good enough because I’ll be so set in my stubborn ways.

Thank you.” Isn’t that all we need to hear sometimes—that you’re a good mom or friend or daughter or wife?

He'd been a good man once. A man who had loved his wife and daughter, and lived a life of simple desires. But suffering had changed all that. For it was easy to be good and kind in times of plenty. The trying times were the moments that defined a man. And love? Love was something that did much to change a person. It brought joy as it brought suffering, and in turn brought about those moments that defined one's character. Love gave life to the lifeless it was the greatest of all living powers. But, as with all things, love had a dark side to it.

Men who have not been violated don’t understand what it is like to have the edges of your body blurred—to feel that every inch of your skin is a place where fingers can press, that every hole and orifice is a place where others can put parts of their bodies. When your body stops being corporeal, your soul has no place to go, so it finds the next window to escape. My soul left me when I was six. It flew away past a flapping curtain over a window. I ran after it, but it never came back. It left me alone on wet stinking mattresses. It left me alone in the choking dark. It took my tongue, my heart, and my mind. When you don’t have a soul, the ideas inside you become terrible things. They grow unchecked, like malignant monsters. You cry in the night because you know the ideas are wrong—you know because people have told you that—and yet none of it does any good. The ideas are free to grow. There is no soul inside you to stop them.

This in essence is my goal. To set an example by doing what is good. If I live openly and honestly, I set an example of virtue, humanness, restoration, and healing. I give others permission to join me on my journey despite the fear of failure or the rejection it might elicit when they know they are not alone in their experience. The more of us who amass the courage to embark openly on this path, the more normal this experience becomes, effectively eliminating the tactic of shame and isolation that the enemy so often uses to cause us to falter.

Oh, precious losing streak, you're too cute for your own good. I try to laugh about it but my face is made of wood.

she finally released a deep, shuddering breath, and it was as if I could feel it filling my own lungs. It was the deepest breath I had taken since she stole it so many years ago.

Your definition of a good life does not have to look like everyone else thinks it should. Whatever feels right for you, whatever aligns your inside with your outside, that's what you should spend your time doing.

It’s often mistaken for good advice, but wisdom cannot be imparted to someone. Wisdom can only be earned; it’s a by-product of experience, not necessarily knowledge, otherwise I would be stalking Oprah right now, begging for a transfusion.

Jealousy isn’t a good look for such a handsome guy.

And until you feel it, the loss of air, the panic crawling through your skin, the desperation to inhale just one more time, you could never understand what it was like.

She was chaos and madness, her heart never sitting still for long, and when I was with her, everything else crumbled away and I felt like I was home.

Broken hearts aren’t the worst thing in the world.

I let a man destroy me, and as a result, I became a coward.

My pillow is as good as any ocean to drown in the nightmare of myself. I swam all the way here from the moon.

He was good-looking in a clean way, but he was fat. He looked like he'd eaten Ryan Seacrest for breakfast.

1. Bangladesh.... In 1971 ... Kissinger overrode all advice in order to support the Pakistani generals in both their civilian massacre policy in East Bengal and their armed attack on India from West Pakistan.... This led to a moral and political catastrophe the effects of which are still sorely felt. Kissinger’s undisclosed reason for the ‘tilt’ was the supposed but never materialised ‘brokerage’ offered by the dictator Yahya Khan in the course of secret diplomacy between Nixon and China.... Of the new state of Bangladesh, Kissinger remarked coldly that it was ‘a basket case’ before turning his unsolicited expertise elsewhere. 2. Chile.... Kissinger had direct personal knowledge of the CIA’s plan to kidnap and murder General René Schneider, the head of the Chilean Armed Forces ... who refused to countenance military intervention in politics. In his hatred for the Allende Government, Kissinger even outdid Richard Helms ... who warned him that a coup in such a stable democracy would be hard to procure. The murder of Schneider nonetheless went ahead, at Kissinger’s urging and with American financing, just between Allende’s election and his confirmation.... This was one of the relatively few times that Mr Kissinger (his success in getting people to call him ‘Doctor’ is greater than that of most PhDs) involved himself in the assassination of a single named individual rather than the slaughter of anonymous thousands. His jocular remark on this occasion—‘I don’t see why we have to let a country go Marxist just because its people are irresponsible’—suggests he may have been having the best of times.... 3. Cyprus.... Kissinger approved of the preparations by Greek Cypriot fascists for the murder of President Makarios, and sanctioned the coup which tried to extend the rule of the Athens junta (a favoured client of his) to the island. When despite great waste of life this coup failed in its objective, which was also Kissinger’s, of enforced partition, Kissinger promiscuously switched sides to support an even bloodier intervention by Turkey. Thomas Boyatt ... went to Kissinger in advance of the anti-Makarios putsch and warned him that it could lead to a civil war. ‘Spare me the civics lecture,’ replied Kissinger, who as you can readily see had an aphorism for all occasions. 4. Kurdistan. Having endorsed the covert policy of supporting a Kurdish revolt in northern Iraq between 1974 and 1975, with ‘deniable’ assistance also provided by Israel and the Shah of Iran, Kissinger made it plain to his subordinates that the Kurds were not to be allowed to win, but were to be employed for their nuisance value alone. They were not to be told that this was the case, but soon found out when the Shah and Saddam Hussein composed their differences, and American aid to Kurdistan was cut off. Hardened CIA hands went to Kissinger ... for an aid programme for the many thousands of Kurdish refugees who were thus abruptly created.... The apercu of the day was: ‘foreign policy should not he confused with missionary work.’ Saddam Hussein heartily concurred. 5. East Timor. The day after Kissinger left Djakarta in 1975, the Armed Forces of Indonesia employed American weapons to invade and subjugate the independent former Portuguese colony of East Timor. Isaacson gives a figure of 100,000 deaths resulting from the occupation, or one-seventh of the population, and there are good judges who put this estimate on the low side. Kissinger was furious when news of his own collusion was leaked, because as well as breaking international law the Indonesians were also violating an agreement with the United States.... Monroe Leigh ... pointed out this awkward latter fact. Kissinger snapped: ‘The Israelis when they go into Lebanon—when was the last time we protested that?’ A good question, even if it did not and does not lie especially well in his mouth. It goes on and on and on until one cannot eat enough to vomit enough.

I didn't want him to love me tenderly. I wanted him to bury his hands in my hair and get lost in me. I wanted him to bruise my lips and stain my skin with his need. I wanted him to dig his fingers into my soul and make love to the storm inside me. I wanted him to remind me how to breathe by taking my breath away, to love me recklessly. I didn't need his hesitant touch or guarded desire. What I needed was to feel his fire and know that I wasn't burning alone.

He bent down, kissed the top of my head, and said, “You’re so good and you don’t even know it. Night, baby.” The minute he closed the door, my eyes welled up… My father used to tell me the same thing.

The Word 'Repulse': I hate this word. I believe 'repel' is a perfectly good word, and 'repulsion' is the noun, as well as the title of an excellent Dinosaur Jr. song. A compulsion compels you; an impulse impels you. Nobody ever says 'compulse' or 'impulse' as a verb. So why would you ever say 'repulse'? This word haunts me in my sleep, like a silver dagger dancing before my eyes. Renee looked it up and I was wrong. But I still kind of think I'm right.

She was so wet, and I fucking loved it. I loved the way she tasted, I loved the way her eyes clouded over in lust, and I loved the way she finally lost control when I sucked her clit into my mouth and started grinding against my face.

He had visited his family the evening before, eaten dinner with Renee and Chris, his grandson, in the pretence that everything was ordinary, but in fact to service his end-game ruse. He was going over the mountains, he'd said, to hunt for quail in willow canyons, he had no particular canyons in mind, he intended to return on Thursday evening, though possibly, if the hunting was good, he would return on Friday or Saturday. The lie was open-ended so that his family wouldn't start worrying until he'd been dead for as long as a week - so none would miss or seek him where he rotted silently in the sage. Ben imagined how it might be otherwise, his cancer a pestilent force in their lives, or a pall descending over them like ice, just as they'd begun to emerge from the pall of Rachel's death. The last thing they needed was for Ben to tell hem of his terminal colon cancer.

I beseech you my star...please see past the darkness. There is potential for boundless good in the boy I knew. Trust that the man you see now is a shadow of what lies beneath. If you would, give him the love that will enable him to see it for himself. To a lost soul, such a treasure is worth it's weight in gold. Worth it's weight in dreams.

The reading of all good books is like a conversation with the finest minds of past centuries.

I don’t blame you, you know? You can’t help who you love.

But love is a word that is too weak and used too often to describe what I feel for you. It’s relentless and desperate, and every time you smile I fall harder and harder.

Fucking Christ, Grace this isn't good-bye. This is 'see you later.' Tell me you can handle that, please. Say that you can handle that

kick me. what else is left? I NEED RAW EMOTION and you got two good stories that are getting stale.

He's Darkness. Unpleasant. I wouldn't trust him. Nor do I trust every mortal I meet. I don't know where evil comes from, and frankly it doesn't matter. Not right now. Histories and myths are renamed and reinvented eternally across the world. I can't speak to that. What I do know? This is your story.

I think it’s the whole ‘bad boy who’s so good but destined to break your heart’ fantasy. Which doesn’t sound like much of a fantasy when you put the broken heart part in the picture, but it is. It so is.

We have the power to change the narrative of body shame in our lives. We are not bound to the tales of teasing, and criticism we were subjected to as children. The good news is we are the authors of our own lives.

You’re also good at protecting and as such you became the woman you needed to be to protect the best part of yourself. The submissive little girl within who wants to play and trust and love and be loved in return without fear. Rene Tanner, Reclaimed Surrender

I hardly think of you at all.” His mouth curved up in a wicked smile as he looked up at me. “Gods, you’re fucking beautiful, but I think I’ve told you before that you aren’t a very good liar. If you weren’t thinking of me, you wouldn't be sleeping in my bed while I was gone.

Choking back emotion, I turned my eyes to the ground. "I don't want to say good-bye." "Then don't." If only it could be true. I blinked hard, but two tears escaped, anyway. I kept my face down so he wouldn't see. "Then what do we say, Yahn?" He set his hand beneath my chin and gently turned my face forward. His eyes were warm and sad and beautiful. "We say egogahan," he whispered, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "In our tongue , it means, 'until we meet again.'" I know I shouldn't, but the words tumbled out in a trembling murmur. "And will we?" A small smile brightened his face. "Perhaps, Maggie Davis. Perhaps.

People come into our lives for a multitude of reasons. Some come for fleeting moments, some are there for a lifetime, and then there are those, the ones who it doesn’t matter how long they are a part of your life. They make such an impact that a moment with them is more poignant than a lifetime with someone else.

A good painter, is a dead one.

Broken hearts aren’t the worst thing in the world. Having a broken heart and getting a reminder of how broken it was daily? That fucking sucked.

Our voices were barely a whisper, out of fear that we’d wake our memories.

If the ocean were music, sailboats would be the ballerinas. I was never any good at dancing before. Maybe I didn’t know how.

love is a word that is too weak and used too often to describe what I feel for you. It’s relentless and desperate, and every time you smile I fall harder and harder.

These days I have to work twice as hard to look half as good.

The best lie is the one that has an element of truth, so it’s good to include something real in your fiction.

And you promised me way more than that, buddy. I guess it’s my turn to start breaking some promises.

You didn’t have a thing for me, Parker. I was nothing more than your dirty little secret.

It is easy to swallow down the lies when your heart is hungry

Girl, that nigga is a hoe. His ass is the president of Hoe Niggas of America," I said to her, and we burst out laughing.

She threw it back hard and fast like the liquor could burn the memory of me off her tongue. Good fucking luck, sweetheart.

Who is he?” Eleanor lowered her voice, the name rolling off her tongue like a dark secret. “Dante Berlin.” I laughed. “Dante? Like the Dante who wrote the Inferno? Did he pick that name just to cultivate his ‘dark and mysterious’ persona?” Eleanor shook her head in disapproval. “Just wait till you see him. You won’t be laughing then.” I rolled my eyes. “I bet his real name is something boring like Eugene or Dwayne.” I expected Eleanor to laugh or say something in return, but instead she gave me a concerned look. I ignored it. “He sounds like a snob to me. I bet he’s one of those guys who know they’re good-looking. He probably hasn’t even read the Inferno. It’s easy to pretend you’re smart when you don’t to anyone.” Eleanor still didn’t respond. “Shh . . .” she muttered under her breath. But before I could say “What?” I heard a cough behind me. Oh God, I thought to myself, and slowly turned around. “Hi,” he said with a half grin that seemed to be mocking me. And that’s how I met Dante Berlin. So how do you describe someone who leaves you speechless? He was beautiful. Not Monet beautiful or white sandy beach beautiful or even Grand Canyon beautiful. It was both more overwhelming and more delicate. Like gazing into the night sky and feeling incredibly small in comparison. Like holding a shell in your hand and wondering how nature was able to make something so complex yet to perfect: his eyes, dark and pensive; his messy brown hair tucked behind one ear; his arms, strong and lean beneath the cuffs of his collared shirt. I wanted to say something witty or charming, but all I could muster up was a timid “Hi.” He studied me with what looked like a mix of disgust and curiosity. “You must be Eugene,” I said. “I am.” He smiled, then leaned in and added, “I hope I can trust you to keep my true identity a secret. A name like Eugene could do real damage to my mysterious persona.” I blushed at the sound of my words coming from his lips. He didn’t seem anything like the person Eleanor had described. “And you are—” “Renee,” I interjected. “I was going to say, ‘in my seat,’ but Renee will do.” My face went red. “Oh, right. Sorry.” “Renee like the philosopher Rene Descartes? How esoteric of you. No wonder you think you know everything. You probably picked that name just to cultivate your overly analytical persona.” I glared at him. I knew he was just dishing back my own insults, but it still stung. “Well, it was nice meeting you,” I said curtly, and pushed past him before he could respond, waving a quick good-bye to Eleanor, who looked too stunned to move. I turned and walked to the last row, using all of my self-control to resist looking back.

...Although the term Existentialism was invented in the 20th century by the French philosopher Gabriel Marcel, the roots of this thought go back much further in time, so much so, that this subject was mentioned even in the Old Testament. If we take, for example, the Book of Ecclesiastes, especially chapter 5, verses 15-16, we will find a strong existential sentiment there which declares, 'This too is a grievous evil: As everyone comes, so they depart, and what do they gain, since they toil for the wind?' The aforementioned book was so controversial that in the distant past there were whole disputes over whether it should be included in the Bible. But if nothing else, this book proves that Existential Thought has always had its place in the centre of human life. However, if we consider recent Existentialism, we can see it was the French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre who launched this movement, particularly with his book Being and Nothingness, in 1943. Nevertheless, Sartre's thought was not a new one in philosophy. In fact, it goes back three hundred years and was first uttered by the French philosopher René Descartes in his 1637 Discours de la Méthode, where he asserts, 'I think, therefore I am' . It was on this Cartesian model of the isolated ego-self that Sartre built his existential consciousness, because for him, Man was brought into this world for no apparent reason and so it cannot be expected that he understand such a piece of absurdity rationally.'' '' Sir, what can you tell us about what Sartre thought regarding the unconscious mind in this respect, please?'' a charming female student sitting in the front row asked, listening keenly to every word he had to say. ''Yes, good question. Going back to Sartre's Being and Nothingness it can be seen that this philosopher shares many ideological concepts with the Neo-Freudian psychoanalysts but at the same time, Sartre was diametrically opposed to one of the fundamental foundations of psychology, which is the human unconscious. This is precisely because if Sartre were to accept the unconscious, the same subject would end up dissolving his entire thesis which revolved around what he understood as being the liberty of Man. This stems from the fact that according to Sartre, if a person accepts the unconscious mind he is also admitting that he can never be free in his choices since these choices are already pre-established inside of him. Therefore, what can clearly be seen in this argument is the fact that apparently, Sartre had no idea about how physics, especially Quantum Mechanics works, even though it was widely known in his time as seen in such works as Heisenberg's The Uncertainty Principle, where science confirmed that first of all, everything is interconnected - the direct opposite of Sartrean existential isolation - and second, that at the subatomic level, everything is undetermined and so there is nothing that is pre-established; all scientific facts that in themselves disprove the Existential Ontology of Sartre and Existentialism itself...

Long story. I backed my car into his truck.” “You met by accident. Oh yeah, that’s not cliché.” “I know. A regular Hollywood meet-cute. Right?” “Destiny, maybe,” Renee teased. “Is he good-looking?

Oh, dear God. Do none of you know what romance is? We must have a plan. Some grand gesture to let him know that you still love him as much as he loves you.” “I don’t have a plan.” I groaned. “I know.” Staci bounced on the bed. “You can get your vagina pierced.” “What kind of romance are you reading?” I balked. “True. Wrong genre.” She jumped off the bed and pulled me with her into her bedroom.

As a nine-year-old, I was sorry for everything. "Sonie, you left the refrigerator open!" "Sorry." "Sonya, why is your coat on the couch?" "Sorry." "Sonya, did you get grape jelly on the white pantsuit I paid good money for?" "Sorry, sorry, sorry..." A litany of apologies for my ever clumsy, messy, forgetful self, who spilled evidence of such all over the house. "Sorry" was my way of gathering up the spill.

He is an addiction, and addictions are never good for you. He’s taking me deeper into his world, deeper into his dark desires, but I’m never able to get behind the physical aspect of our relationship. I just lose more of who I am.

I’m not sure why I had to weather the stages of grief after hearing the news that night. Maybe it was the death of my singledom or the death of my own childhood that scared me. For some reason, when you’re faced with the realization that you’re going to become a parent, it immediately changes how you view yourself. You no longer think of yourself as someone else’s child because you can’t be a parent and a child. It’s an official good-bye, and good-byes always scared the hell out of me.

Say something nice to me,” I whisper against his lips. “I’m gonna fuck you so good.” “That’s your idea of nice?” He trails his tongue along my lower lip, slow and lazy. “Your pussy is as pretty as a flower. And I’m gonna fuck you so good. Better?

The farmers, who rent out their house so they can stay afloat, and sleep all together in a studio, but spend their days off outside on a picnic blanket, living the lives they want to live. Drew and Melanie, with their two homes and their horses and their love story. And Rene, traveling across the world, painting temporary masterpieces. Even my uncle Pete has something good worked out with Melinda and his day trips and his best friend, my dad, who has a small nice house in San Francisco and a dozen neighborhood vendors who know him by name. All of these different ways of living. Even Sophie, with her baby in that apartment, with her record store job and her record collection. I imagine her twirling with her baby across her red carpet with Diana Ross crooning, the baby laughing, the two of them getting older in that apartment, eating meals on red vinyl chairs. Walt, too, as pathetic as his situation is, seems happy in his basement, providing entertainment to Fort Bragg's inner circle. All of them, in their own ways, manage to make their lives work.

David: “How the hell did you get dressed so fast?” Renee: “How do you know I didn’t streak naked through the lobby and had clothes waiting for me in the car?” David: “Heh. Good thing the archaeological paparazzi didn’t have a team on duty.” Renee: “I’d have taken ’em out. My whole body is a weapon.

Some stood up for the prince, declaring that he would set things to right, while others argued that nothing good could ever come from Galephy. Most, however - as people are apt to do when they do not think they can change their circumstances - raised their glasses to their lips and ignored the entire situation.

Once when I was in graduate school, I got a terrible case of the flu and dropped a good deal of weight in a short amount of time. When I returned to campus, a professor said, “You look good! Did you lose weight?” When I responded that I had lost weight because I’d been seriously ill, she just shrugged and said, “Well, however it happened, looks good!” I remember that moment as such a clear example that much of what we claim to be health-based concern about other women’s weight is not at all. It’s nothing more than an ill-disguised bit of buy-in to a culture that says our worth is determined by our body size and that less is always more, no matter how we get there.

We were an awesome couple when we were teenagers, until he ruined it. The adult versions? Not a good idea. He’s too…Jester. I’m too…Faith. Together we make for an explosive, if not toxic, combination of anger and sarcasm. We’ll destroy each other. “You need to let me go.” “I let you go once.” His tender kiss on my forehead tears me apart. “Never again.

Anger’s importance. Anger told you when someone crossed your line. “Don’t tread on me,” anger said. You had to pass through anger, and the hurt underneath it, before you could get to forgiveness. Otherwise, it seemed to me, you skipped a step. But there was also plenty of danger there. How long could you hold on to that dark fire before it scorched all that was good in your life? And what was the best way to let anger out?

I didn’t want him to love me tenderly. I wanted him to bury his hands in my hair and get lost in me. I wanted him to bruise my lips and stain my skin with his need. I wanted him to dig his fingers into my soul and make love to the storm inside me. I wanted him to remind me how to breathe by taking my breath away, to love me recklessly. I didn’t need his hesitant touch or guarded desire. What I needed was to feel his fire and know that I wasn’t burning alone.

Sacrifice is violence and it's obviously an effort to prevent violence in the community by finding the right escape hatch through some kind of innocuous violence. This they didn't see. They couldn't see it because, influenced by Enlightenment presuppositions, they believed in the innocence of humanity, the basic goodness of man. Why should humanity need that violence? The only possible answer is that humanity needed that violence to avoid another kind of violence: people’s own violence against one another.

We sometimes think of being good at mathematics as an innate ability. You either have “it” or you don’t. But to Schoenfeld, it’s not so much ability as attitude. You master mathematics if you are willing to try. That’s what Schoenfeld attempts to teach his students. Success is a function of persistence and doggedness and the willingness to work hard for twenty-two minutes to make sense of something that most people would give up on after thirty seconds. Put a bunch of Renees in a classroom, and give them the space and time to explore mathematics for themselves,

Emerson, are you paying attention?” I sat up straight in my seat. “Yes, sir.” “Okay,” Mr. Williams said. “Then tell us, the system we’ve been talking about this whole class period is called what?” My heart was racing, and the room started spinning. I hated being called on. I had no idea what the answer was, but then Jackson whispered, “Binomial nomenclature.” It was like he had said, I want to make love to you. That’s how Jackson saying “binomial nomenclature” sounded to me. Mr. Williams was still glaring at me. I pointed my finger to the ceiling and announced, “Binomial nomenclature!” “So you are paying attention, Emerson. Good,” Mr. Williams said.

The ever-present war in the background lent a pleasant informality to social relations, an informality which older people viewed with alarm. Mothers found strange men calling on their daughters, men who came without letters of introduction and whose antecedents were unknown. To their horror, mothers found their daughters holding hands with these men. Mrs. Merriwether, who had never kissed her husband until after the wedding ceremony, could scarcely believe her eyes when she caught Maybelle kissing the little Zouave, Rene Picard, and her consternation was even greater when Maybelle refused to be ashamed. Even the fact that Rene immediately asked for her hand did not improve matters. Mrs. Merriwether felt that the South was heading for a complete moral collapse and frequently said so. Other mothers concurred heartily with her and blamed it on the war. But men who expected to die within a week or a month could not wait a year before they begged to call a girl by her first name, with "Miss," of course, preceding it. Nor would they go through the formal and protracted courtships which good manners had prescribed before the war. They were likely to propose in three or four months. And girls who knew very well that a lady always refused a gentlemen the first three times he proposed rushed headlong to accept the first time.

All women want is to be wanted, appreciated, and respected. At least the good ones. Yeah, there are bitches out there who want Gucci bags, drink expensive champagne, and feel loved by receiving material objects, or being married to the rich guy. Then there are the women who talk incessantly about themselves and need constant praise and validation regardless of who it's coming from. But I promise you there are also women out there who just want to experience another person, have a connection, bring meaning to their lives by exploring life with someone who gets them." I looked to Jeff. "Who is this woman? She's like the Einstein of emotional intelligence." "She's also good in bed," Jeff said.

There’s a pizza place I want you to try, Ciccio’s. You heard of it?” “We can get good pizza on Fifth.” “No, you have to try this place, Matt. It’s phenomenal.” “What’s phenomenal, the pizza or the staff?” Since my divorce a few years ago, Scott—boss, friend, and eternal bachelor—had high hopes that I’d become his permanent wingman. It was impossible to talk him out of anything, especially when it involved women and food. “You got me. You have to see this girl. We’ll call it a work meeting. I’ll put it on the company card.” Scott was the type who talked about women a lot and about porn even more. He was severely out of touch with reality. “I’m sure this qualifies as sexual harassment somewhere.

Imagine sitting down at a table with two cups of flour, three eggs, a tablespoon of vanilla, one cup of sugar, one teaspoon of baking powder and a few other ingredients. You taste the sugar and it is good, but when you taste the baking powder it is bitter. You continue to taste the ingredients, some tasty and some downright gross. This is like life. Some of the events in your life are sweet like the sugar, others dry like the flour, and others still that you do not like at all. However, using Jesus’ perfect recipe, all of the events of your life will be mixed together and put through some intense heat—and then you will rise. Just as a cake would not be the same if you left out some of the ingredients, so Jesus wants to use all of your life experiences to make you complete and able to be used for His glory.

Lord, I pray that You would give me a confident heart in Christ. Take me beyond believing in You to truly believing You. Help me rely on the power of Your promises and live like they are true. You say blessed is the one who trusts in You and whose hope and confidence are found in You. Those who hope in You will not be disappointed, because You work all things together for good for those who love You and are called according to Your purpose. When self-doubt tells me I can’t overcome my insecurities, I will believe Your promise that all things are possible to whoever believes. I will not throw away my confidence, because You say it will be richly rewarded. I will persevere so that when I have done the will of God, I will receive what You have promised. My confidence is in Christ and I am no longer one who shrinks back and is destroyed, but one who believes and is saved! In Jesus’ name, Amen.

My father strode up and cleared his throat. “Oh, hello, Mr. Martin,” Seth said. “Hello,” my father said. They shook hands. “Charlotte, your mom and I want to discuss something with you, but I don’t think it’s a good time now. I think you need some rest.” “Oh Jesus, what now?” I said. “Charlotte!” my mother scolded. “I’m drunk, you guys. It’s not a big deal.” Seth anchored me to his side by wrapping an arm around my waist. My mother stuck her hand out to Seth. “Hello, Seth, I’m Charlotte’s mom, Laura.” She blushed. “Oh, Motherrr, are you blushing? He’s just a professional baseball plaaayer with twelve-pack abs and perfect hair, get over it!” “Let’s go, drunky.” Seth pulled me along. “Hey, Taylor,” my father said, calling Seth by his last name. We turned back to see my dad point to his own eyes and then to Seth’s. I’m watching you, he mouthed, and then he buckled over and started laughing. “Your family is totally weird,” Seth said into my ear. “I see where you get your sense of humor.” “Yep, they’re all right. By the way, it’s your fault I’m drunk.” I caught Helen’s eye as we left the bar. Seth waved, she smiled, and Roddy laughed. “I think you had a little too much before I got involved.” “I told you that. Hey, wanna go skinny-dipping?” “I’m getting you a sandwich and then I’m putting you to bed,” he said. “Killjoy.

I love this song, can you turn it up?” I reached and turned the dial up on the Vance Joy song “Red Eye.” Adam bobbed his head to the music. At the stoplight I looked over at him. He was wearing the black beanie my brother had given him, his black Wayfarers, and the hospital gown. I laughed. He turned to me and smiled. “What?” he said. “You’re cute.” “Oh yeah? Wanna fool around?” He grinned. I was glad that Adam couldn’t see my eyes welling up behind my sunglasses. The car behind us honked. I hit the gas and my car lurched forward from the intersection. “How much time do we have?” I asked. “What? Are you serious?” “Yes, Adam, I am serious.” He was having a good day. He reached for my phone. “We have like an hour and a half before Leah freaks out.” I knew I was taking a big chance, but how could I say no to him? There was so much joy in him that day just because he got to go to the drive-thru at In-N-Out. “Okay.” I glanced over at him and flattened my lips. “You better not have a seizure on me.” “I can’t think of a better place to have a seizure. Although I can see how that wouldn’t be much fun for you.” I laughed hysterically. “Oh man, I didn’t mean literally on me; I meant on my watch.” “Well, Charlotte, I don’t have much control over that, but I’ll try. You know what helps?” “What?” “Alcohol.” “Really?” As we passed the Four Seasons he said, “Pull in here.” “This is too expensive, Adam.” “What? Are you crazy?” The energy in the car was tangible. “This may be the last time I ever go to a hotel with a girl. I’m paying. I have a ton of money. Come on, Charlotte, please?” His mood was instantly lighter than it had been in several days. “Okay.” I did a U-turn and pulled into the driveway of the hotel.

Seven Versions" 1. The Kiss Massive languor, languor hammered; Sentient languor, languor dissected; Languor deserted, reignite your sidereal fires; Holier languor, arise from love. The wood’s owl has come home. 2. Beyond Sunlight I can’t shakle one of your ankles as if you were a falcon, but nothing can prevent me from following, no matter how far, even beyond sunlight where Jesus becomes visible: I’ll follow, I will wait, I will never give up until I understand why you are going away from me. 3. A Man Wound His Watch In the darkness the man wound his watch before secreting it under his pillow. Then he went to sleep. Outside, the wind was blowing. You who comprehend the repercussions of the faintest gesture—you will understand. A man, his watch, the wind. What else is there? 4. For Which There Is No Name Let me have what the tree has and what it can never lose, let me have it and lose it again, blurred lines the wind draws with the darkness it gets from summer nights, formless indescribable darkness. Either give me back my gladness, or the courage to think about how it was lost to me. Give me back, not what I see, but my sight. Let me meet you again owning nothing but what is in the past. Let me inherit the very thing I am forbidden. And let me continue to seek, though I know it is futile, the only heaven that I could endure: unhurting you. 5. The Composer People said he was overly fond of the good life and ate like a pig. Yet the servant who brought him his chocolate in bed would sometimes find him weeping quietly, both plump pink hands raised slightly and conducting, evidently, in small brief genuflective feints. He experienced the reality of death as music. 6. Detoxification And I refuse to repent of my drug use. It gave me my finest and happiest hours. And I have been wondering: will I use drugs again? I will if my work wants me to. And if drugs want me to. 7. And Suddenlty It’s Night You stand there alone, like everyone else, the center of the world’s attention, a ray of sunlight passing through you. And suddenly it’s night. Franz Wright, iO: A Journal of New American Poetry, Vol I Issue I . (May 15th, 2011) The individual sections of “Seven Versions” ia based, loosely—some very loosely—on poems by Rene Char, Rumi, Yannis Ritsos, Natan Zach, Günther Eich, Jean Cocteau, and Salvatore Quasimodo.

Rape them all in my daydreams for being good lil' nightmares; Drape me in blurs of memes I buried alive all my double-dares

She may not be mine now, but she was once and that means she’s off-limits.

Bitch.” My lips curve. “Damn, I like that name. Have a good day, Officer.

You're nothing but a bad habit ... just a silly, silly rabbit Karma heard you say, 'trap it' Bleeding out, you'd better wrap it Cause you get what you deserve in this life... I'm done being a storm chaser She's got a tan, so you freebase her Clocked you good, a real time waster Don't look back my way to replace her

Il n'y a qu'une chose qui puisse arrêter le cheminement d'un peintre et c'est le succès. Van Gogh a vu cela bien avant moi. La peinture est un cheminement dans l'espace - et non dans le temps. Le peintre cherche en permanence la couleur et le style. S'il rencontre le succès, il bloque son style, il le fige. Pourquoi ? Simplement parce que l'acheteur - le marchand - demande uniquement le style qui se vend, le style qui a du succès. Voyez Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dali ou Bernard Buffet...etc, etc. L'artiste connu et reconnu est condamné, à vie, à se copier lui-même ; à copier un moment de son cheminement. Alphonse Daudet disait que le succès (la gloire), c'était la même chose que de fumer un cigare par l'autre bout. Le bout de la braise; donc. Et il avait raison. Mais comme personne n'a le choix - s'agissant du destin - on se situe ici par-delà le bien et le mal et tout jugement moral n'a ici aucune portée *** There is only one thing that can stop the pathway of an artist and this thing is called : success. Van Gogh wrote it long before me. Painting is a pathway through space - and not through time. The painter is constantly looking for new color and new style. If he meets success, he blocks his style, he freezes it. Why ? Simply because the buyer - the merchant - asks only for the style that can be sold, the style that is successful. See Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dali, Bernard Buffet ... etc, etc. The successful artist is therefore condemned, for life, to copy himself; to copy a moment of his pathway. Alphonse Daudet said that success (glory) was the same as smoking a cigar on the other side. The side of the embers. And he was right. But since no one has the choice - when it comes about fate - we are here beyond good and evil and any moral judgment has no value.

I never wondered what I was missing in other men because he salaciously delivered good dick to me regularly.

Free… I reflected on our safe word as his goliath dick sprang forward, liberated. On the occasions I’d had the pleasure of experiencing Zeke’s manhood, I never took the opportunity to get a good look. Goddamn. The up close and personal

Renee, what are you doing. What made you buy a wedding dress and a wedding ring and think proposing would be a good idea?

You’re taking me so good, little traitor.” He nipped at my ear, and I felt the move all the way to my core. “Gods, I can imagine how well you’ll take my cock. I could die thinking about this tight little pussy wrapped around me like it was made for me.

I’m yours.” “That’s a good fucking girl.

That good?” I looked up at Evren and he was watching me so intently as I licked the lemon glaze from my lips. “It is. Would you like to try?” “I would love to.” How did he manage to make such a simple phrase feel so erotic? I held the pastry out to him, but instead of taking it from me, he gripped my wrist in his hand before bringing the treat to his mouth. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he bit into it, and I couldn’t force myself to look away.

You take me so fucking good,” he whispered against my neck. “Your body fits mine so perfectly. You feel that?

oh yes, cheers! he's looking good on the outside- take an x-ray girl, you'll see you've been taken for a ride

My pain was as much a part of me as anything else. It was real and tangible, and just when I thought the pressure on my chest was easing a bit and I finally took a deep breath, reality reminded me who ruled and crushed me again just as easily as the first time.

I don’t think she’s really gone…’ Robert hesitates. ‘I just think we can’t see her any more.’ ‘What do you mean?’ He straightens up, then hunches forward on his knees. ‘I was reading this thing by St Augustine…’ ‘I didn’t know you’re religious.’ ‘I’m not, really. But he wrote some pretty good stuff. There’s this bit where he’s talking about time, and how it’s just an illusion.’ Ella frowns. ‘Then what are clocks doing?’ ‘They’re measuring the teeth on a cog, or the number of times a pendulum has gone back and forth…’ He looks at Ella’s frown. ‘I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. But what he’s saying is, there’s no such thing as the past or the future, just this big, eternal now.’ Ella tries to get her head around this, craning her neck so she’s looking right up through the gaps in the clouds. The stars flicker. ‘Nope, I don’t get it.’ ‘Well, he compares it to a poem…but you could imagine it like a record.’ ‘A record?’ ‘Yeah, imagine a seventy-eight.’ Ella closes her eyes and pictures the record. ‘So, you put it on the turntable and listen to the first verse of the song, then there’s a chorus, then another verse. While you’re listening to the second verse, the first verse is still there, spinning around on the record, but you’re not listening to it any more. St Augustine said that the record is like a human life, or all of human history.’ Ella thinks for a moment. The idea is starting to take shape in her head as she imagines the shiny black disc, spinning on its axis. She’s not sure if it makes sense or not, but the idea is attractive. She thinks of all the people who have gone before them, their lives still spinning through infinity like silent songs. ‘So where’s Rene, in this metaphor?’ ‘She’s like…’ Robert thinks for a moment. ‘She’s like a clarinet solo in the first verse. A beautiful solo, harmonizing with the melody. And then she stops, and she doesn’t repeat again for the rest of the song…but she’s still there, on the record.

I may have been a good girl then, but you destroyed every piece of her. I actually feel bad for Emily, because you, Parker James, are where good girls go to die.

I have to play, because I am me after all. “And I want you naked,” I yell only once she’s halfway across the courtyard. Faith freezes misstep. Her spine stiffens, and her shoulders bunch. I expect her to keep on walking. Pretend I didn’t shout it loud enough for Crow, Rotten, and about a dozen other people to hear— and laugh at—my demand. Not my girl. She gives as good as she gets. Faith turns on her heel, a beautiful smirk playing on her lips. “Not a problem, Jester,” she yells back. “But if I’m stripping down to the raw, you better bring your A-game.” Her exit from the courtyard is epic. She strolls into Sanctum like a queen, with a chorus of cheers and applause echoing after her.

Me too. Could you imagine going through life without having something this beautiful from Parker on your skin?” “No. You’re right. I couldn’t.” Emily’s hand squeezed around mine.

I’m a lawyer. No one wants someone to represent them that looks like a convict themselves.

Break up with Emily for starters.” “It’s not that easy.” I shook my head.

Spiraling out of control. I never wanted to stop, because for the first time in a very long time, I felt like I wasn’t broken anymore.

Do you two think I’m stupid?” He crossed his arms.

Baby girl, There are far too many ordinary people in this world. Never become one of them.

Don’t fall in love with a stripper. ;) I love you! xoxo

When I told him I was proposing to her, he literally cringed.

This is going to be perfect. You have a great set of tits.

I learned the hard way that reality was a cold, hard bitch.

I was just a girl who was in love with him.

Bad Trash ( I Don't Like the Sound of That) Runs in the family R u n s in the f a m i l y- No, that's an atrocity you won't hear from me I don't like the sound of that Not lyin' in a mouse trap- I'm a mofo' sassy cat I don't clean no d i r t y rat No, not my reality Said not M Y reality- Don't shine shit in front of me and call it my reality! I don't like the sound of that Cruel intentions get tires flat I say what will shine for me I say what will bleed for me I call out the trash to me Bad trash always dies for me Clawed out my own reality The top from the back alley I don't run in the family I run far from the alley Calling all my sour soulmates- Recovering a l l e y c a ts You all clean up so good now No bad, bad trash, just LoVe pats! No bad trash, just LoVe pats

Be a good girl and let go.

Gods, you’re such a good fucking girl.

That’s a good fucking girl.

You’re taking me so good, little traitor.

Good girl,

There’s no fucking hiding here. In this room, there is no pretending to be who we aren’t. I am your mate, and I’m going to devour you. Now, spread your legs like a good girl and let me have what’s mine.

You feel so fucking good.

Zig-zag reality, how long can we drown in self deception; Open the doors of perception... and we wolves accept and howl, beholden Cheers to the hungry, lost dogs I hope you find a home, you know I hope you get a good bath; get shined up one day and glow I used to be a lost dog in gloom but, I've been a wolf for a while, returning my hunger to the moon I don't beg. And I hunt with style

I tried to rearrange her fucking uterus that's how good this shit was.

Mmm, mmmm, nooooo niggggggaaa, that's not a good thing to say! Just be quiet, and don't use the terminology, my girl, wifey, lady, side chick, or baby mama no more that's not a good look, trust me!" Gabe said shaking his head back and forth.

Good! I will be putting her little ass back in there, so y’all can do a damn redo of it all,” I told her, we both burst into laughter.

Well, it's a good night to put our murder game down. His life, for the life he took away from you, that's an even exchange in my mind!" She spoke, as she pulled her gun out and I did the same.

Ohhh well, it’s nice to meet you Savion Jaxon Williams Jr. Grandma, you better hold on to your good wig, and black dress because it’s going to be a double funeral for this family,” Tay said, looking over at me and I was officially scared shitless.

The way she was gripping my dick had a nigga ready to shed a fucking tear! Nah this good pussy bitch gotta go! I tried to pull out of her, and the pussy sucked my shit back in, right before my fucking eyes. I pulled out of her ass so quick, fuck that! Ion even want to fuck that type of pussy, that shit is like a fucking drug. She ain't gone have my ass running around here feenin’ for my next hit! Fuck that!

Come on baby, just make me cum, that's all I want you to do,” she moaned, and my ole turncoat ass dick jumped. This nigga needed to pick a team, and I see his ass wanted to be on team muthafuckin’ Tay! Fuck it, I sent up a prayer that I would be the same man after I was done. I slid back in her, and I swear the pussy was so good a nigga had tears flowing. You might as well say, she was fucking me. Because my ole soft ass was fucking stuck! I ain't never in my life had no pussy like this.

Girl, I saw the grim reaper leave, and I wanted to make sure your ass was amongst the living! Every time you get close to this nigga my left eye start jumping. That's not good, I'm telling you, you need to keep one eye open at all times when you are around his ass. But noooooo, yo’ ass want to be up in this bitch like you sleeping fucking beauty. Keep on and you gone be a dead fucking beauty!" Taymar fussed, and I fell out laughing.

Nas always joked and said if I didn’t get any pussy soon, my dick will shrivel up and fall off.

I’m not doing no illegal shit with you, Big mama.” Nas smiled at her. "Nigga, yo’ whole existence is illegal." I swear this lady was too damn much for me sometimes.

Nigga, you crazy as hell, that bitch wouldn't get a dime of my money. That hoe would be in the middle of Broad street selling ass before she get my shit," Nasir told him.

I’ve always heard that actions speak louder than words, and his actions showed no signs of love.

The first step is always the hardest, but when you make that bitch, I promise it’s going to be the best move you ever made in your life,” she stated.

Cas: I'm booking your flight, sis! You got this, and I'm here to help you through it. I can't wait for us to get back to Philly. Girl, we're going to party and cleanse your damn soul of that crusty ass nigga.

Nigga, are you getting ready to marry her?” She asked. "Hell no! You almost made me slide yo’ ass for saying that shit." This dude was frowned up like Big Mama had put a curse on his ass.

Priest, this is my cousin, Zoey. Zoey, this is Priest Chamber, my boss,” Cassie introduced us, and when this woman turned around, my heart damn near stopped. I felt like the air was leaving my body. I have never in my life seen a woman this fuckin’ fine and beautiful.

But you want to lick my pussy, huh?” I asked Nas, looking at him, shaking my head. "I sure the fuck do! I want to lick, suck, and fuck your soul right out of your ass. So, what you thought, just because I'm sitting here with her, I was going to deny what the fuck I want from you? Lil mama, I'm the real fuckin’ deal, but what I'm not gone do is play around with you. I told you what it was, and if you can't accept that,

Diamond was laying on the bed, playing with her pussy, and I was ready to dig in them guts. But I swear it seems like that smell from the bathroom was now in here. “You don’t smell that shit?” I asked her.

got in the bed, pulled her close to me and slid my finger in her pussy. She let out a soft moan as I pulled my finger out of her and placed it to my nose. I swear I wanted to beat the freshness into this bitch. I jumped up and ran into the bathroom trying to wash that bullshit off of my damn finger.

Hell Nawl! Bitch, you gotta go. I should beat your ass for coming in here trying to give me that funky ass pussy. Smelling like ten dead niggas. You knew your damn pussy was stank as hell before you came up in this bitch. Let me give you a word of advice. Pussy that fucked up don't need a bath. There ain't shit that Summer’s Eve, and Bath & Body Works can ever do for you. Bitch, you need a doctor and some muthafuckin’ medicine. Hell, you might even need a new pussy the way that shit smell.

He smiled, and I swear my pussy jumped; this bitch was just disobedient.

Ohhhhhh, that lil’ nigga below done finally woke the fuck up. Bruh, do you cause it’s been a long muthafuckin’ time. I feel for the bitch that let you hit, ‘cause yo’ ass gone tear her damn insides the fuck up!” This nigga burst out laughing and walked out. He was right; this was the first time that my fuckin’ dick rose to any woman. My nigga is bricked up right now, and all I wanted to do was throw this fine ass girl on this bar and bless her fuckin’ life the Kashas way.

If you don't believe in yourself, no one else will, and the first person that is supposed to praise your existence and beauty is you! ‘Cause nobody can't tell Cassie shit. I'mma bad bitch all day every fuckin day. Change that mindset, queen, and get your shit together.

Ohhhhh shhhitttt, nigga! Mmmmm, I can’t handle this dick! I don’t wanna be stuck on yo’ ass. This the type of dick that will make you lose your mind. Nawl, Bruh, I can’t.. I gotta protect my gangsta and my sanity,” I cried as he flipped me over and deep stroked my ass from behind.

That’s her new mama, bitch!” Big mama yelled, and I fell out laughing. This lady had no filter with her shit.

I will slap your ass righteous, lil’ girl. Don’t fuck with me!” Big mama had her ass gripped up, giving her all the verses of the good book.

Grandma! Get yo gun, issa good dick nigga invasion!” I yelled, but Grammy was already inside the car and Love was shaking her head. Sin placed me in the passenger seat of his car and shut the door.

Ummmm, Big Mama, who is WE? Tell him to come take yo’ ass, I don't know about that WE shit! When yo’ ass praying and asking God to come take you now, you can ask for yo’ damn self. Don't include me in that shit. The word should be Me, not We because the lawd ain't ready to see Nas in that way, and Nas ain't ready to see the lawd in that way. I mean, he my dude and all, but we good with the relationship we got!" I was serious as hell, but Cas and Pop were laughing their asses off.

Being inside of you gives me peace, this is where I belong. Tell me what the fuck you want from me?!” I slammed into her over and over again until she cried out!

Damn! That’s some amazing sounding shit, but I’m good. I’m not ready to see heaven or hell. God not ready for me yet, and when he is ready, I damn sure don’t want to arrive in heaven with dick up in me,” she said serious as hell.

Bear, they ass was fine believing that you were the reason we were still here. I swear we gone have to work on them lil’ snitch tendencies yo’ ass got in you.” Nas shook his head, and Cassie couldn’t help but laugh.

Nigga, that’s our fuckin’ cousin. She ain’t gone be sucking yo nasty crusty ass dick!” This nigga got me fucked up.

Because if me and Bear ain't together and she pregnant with my kid, the only dude she better be hanging with is God. That's the only friend she can have besides my ass. She will be walking her happy ass around the house singing what a friend we have in Jesus all damn day.

Bitch, fuck yo bitch ass sons!” Nasir yelled out. “That sounds like a YOU problem. We haven’t seen your sons; make this the last time you call me.” I hung up on her ass.

Where I go and what I do, no longer concerns you. I will always be respectful to you because I have love for you, and you're the mother of my child. But just so we're clear, YOU set the stage for this show, baby. I think you said the only thing between us was co-parenting. This, baby girl, is what co-parenting feels like,” he said to me and walked away. The tears fell from my eyes and I had truly fucked up. Once I cleaned my face, I went back to join the ladies in the kitchen.

Priest?” “Yeah, baby?” I looked at her. “I want some ice cream now. I was thinking about it when we were fuckin’, but I wanted you more than the ice cream. Now that we’re done, can you feed me some ice cream?” I looked at her, and we both just burst into laughter.

Ohhhh, they didn’t crush this strawberry up, and it’s hard.” Her face was frowned. She took it out of her mouth, stared at it and then looked up at me. “Priest, what… Oh my God, what is this?” She asked, and I was praying the entire time that her greedy ass didn’t swallow it.

I hope like hell it did. When she came up in the room steaming hot over Dana, I told her not to let that big booty heifer get my grandson and become Sasha's step mammy," Big Mama laughed.

Zoey, the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the design that God created just for me. I wanted the very essence of you. I wanted a love so rare and true with you that only God could breakthrough. I breathe you, I need you, I want you, I love you, and I yearn for you. I gave you my heart and allowed you to undress my soul. Mon amour pour toi ne vacilleria jamais, je te donne mon coeur pour toujours (My love for you will never waiver. I give you my heart forever.)

That's good because whoever you were talking to on that phone won't be alright if they fuck with my granddaughter. I may be older, but they don't want no smoke from Lai! Nothing about me is good for your health,” she said, and I believed her.

I'm going to say this again, and I won't repeat myself any damn more. If you lay in my bed for a second time and pull the shit that you did in New York, I'm coming to drag your ass out of your daddy's house! I'm not gone continue to play these games with you. So, while you're standing there, I need you to think long and hard about crawling in this bed with me. Once you make your decision, that's it. I'm a man about my shit, so if you do get in this bed, later today, we're going to go sit down to talk with your mom and dad. However, if you decide to walk out that door, don't call me again. I'm a good man and deserve a good woman to take this ride called love

No, what you want is to have shit your way. You want to be with me yet hide that you're with me. I'm going to say this again, and I won't repeat myself any damn more. If you lay in my bed for a second time and pull the shit that you did in New York, I'm coming to drag your ass out of your daddy's house! I'm not gone continue to play these games with you. So, while you're standing there, I need you to think long and hard about crawling in this bed with me. Once you make your decision, that's it. I'm a man about my shit, so if you do get in this bed, later today, we're going to go sit down to talk with your mom and dad. However, if you decide to walk out that door, don't call me again. I'm a good man and deserve a good woman to take this ride called love and life with me. I’m never gonna make myself available to someone that’s not available to me. If that's not what you want wholeheartedly, stop being selfish, and leave me alone. Let my future walk the path that God has laid at her feet." I was in tears at the words that left his mouth.

Mmmmmmm mmmmmm, don't feel bad for him because that shit will make you vulnerable. He still went ahead and married that hoe; I know you love him. But bitch don't you ever play second best to no damn body! Just don't get caught up, you already know what the dick is hittin for. Well noooo you don't because that was that young twenties era dick you got. His ass probably done improved, and more skillful now that he older! Wheeewww chile, just pray to the good dick gawwds, that they will get you out of a good dick situation!" I said, shaking my head at the thought.

He shows them his best impression of a paperweight How to be a good lil' rock 101: Never show emotion, even when someone you love paints a smile on you

If you’re sleeping in my bed, you’re wearing my name.” Taking the opportunity while it’s right in front of me, I breathe him in, committing his scent to my memory, and then whisper, “Yes Sir.” “Good girl.

I know these niggas go crazy over you, but yo’ ass don't really match your body. I mean, you just overall shaped funny! In my eyes, you look like one of them bad body bitches! I love you, but I'm good!

We good over here, homie. I know who you are, and I'm not trying to get into no shit with you. That's not the type time I'm on, homie. She's moved on, and I think you need to do the fuckin’ same!" I was about to walk away and let him have that, but instead, I hit this pussy ass nigga in his fuckin’ mouth and watched his bitch ass hit the floor! Cause nigga who the fuck you talkin’ to!

Girl, you need to help this nigga up! This shit’s embarrassing. That nigga over there sipping on a drink while yo’ nigga on the floor. Nigga, everything was good until you said that 'she moved on' part and let out all that damn aggression afterwards. That's the shit that got yo’ ass on the ground passed the hell out,” Justice said, shaking his head.

Bitch! I told yo’ ass this shit wasn’t a good idea, and the fact that you slept with that nigga brother was never fuckin’ good! Nahhh, hell nawl! I told yo’ ass to run, and I remember telling yo’ ass to run in the opposite direction of me. Get that lil negative ass baby and y’all take that shit somewhere else. You about to bring some unnecessary drama to my shit, and ion like that. What kind of friend are you to even try and put me in your bullshit?! Had you listened to me, your ass wouldn’t be in this shit!” I knew I fucked up by telling Steph ass all of my damn business.

Now the disrespect has gone too damn far! I guess y’all gonna have to shoot us because we’re leaving!” Azaria yelled. “Bihhhh, stop with all that WE shit. WE don’t wanna die. WE just asking that the good lawd spare our life, and WE sorry we interrupted y’all Christmas holiday, but I think it’s best that WE go find us a hotel,” her sister nervously spoke. I was so fuckin’ pissed, I felt like I was spittin’ fire, and I knew I had to calm down.

Whew. I thought this pussy whipped ass nigga was proposing. I almost went where he should have sent her ass from stealing from him five years ago. I’m good y’all, just give me a second to come back to life.

Good, I don’t want you to ever worry about that nigga. I will chop that nigga balls off and stuff them bitches so far down his throat he will be shitting them muthafuckas for months.” We both laughed,

You didn't know that Stormy chick either, but you fucked her ass by the martini glasses?! Pop, you a cold muthafucka for what you did though.

Damn! They do that shit? How in the fuck can you compete with a dead person when they dead?!” If Nas wasn’t my son, I swear I would sucker slide his ass right now.

Man fuck all that. If I die, Bear better just come on to the grave with me ‘cause every time she tries to give my pussy away, I'm gone show up right before that nigga sticks his dick in my Bear's honey pot! Fuck it! I'mma be slapping my ghost dick across her face when she tries to kiss that nigga. Ain't nan nigga gone get my girl pussy. I don't give a damn if I'm dead or alive!

Big mama, I swear if Mr. Joe been over there putting his lil’ wrinkled ass dick in you, I’mma shoot that nigga in his nuts. I’m ‘bout to call Pop and tell him Joe is digging in yo’ cookie jar.” I was mad as hell; I’m fucking Joe old ass up.

Do it look like I give a damn? I’m sixty-eight years old; my ass ain’t dead. I’mma buss it open for a real nigga until I can’t buss it no more,” she laughed,

You better not drop not nan muthafuckin’ tear for this nigga,” I whispered to her, as I held her hand.

Nah, it's no problem. My nigga doing bad right now, so don't hold nothing against him. If his breath or his armpits stank, you better still be his girl." I laughed.

Yoooo, Pop, the next time you want to wake up like you had an acting part in The Living Dead, let my thug ass know. You almost got yo’ ass knocked back into that coma you was in. Wake yo’ ass up like regular people do when they been in a coma, slow and muthafuckin’ easy,” Nas said, shaking his head at me.

Stepmama, Pop gone need a bath soon. That nigga ain't washed in a couple of days, his balls might be a little sweaty. Just remember what I said, you better not hold that shit against him," Nas told her, and I swear if I had the strength I would body slam this nigga. Priest shook his head, and Eva just laughed.

Man, that nigga smell good; he fine as fuck, and he bowlegged. Girl, if you come in here and tell me he got a hook between his legs, bitch, you gone marry his ass this weekend. Y’all can get to know each other on the fuckin’ honeymoon,” Layah ass had me in tears ‘cause she was just as crazy as her damn daddy.

Now that’s how you give a damn gift! Good gawd, the man fine, he hung low, he will beat a nigga black and blue about his woman, and he just gave you his last name!

Nigga, what the fuck is wrong with you! That’s good quality liquor yo’ crazy ass done fucked up. Ahhh hell, this the shit I be talking ‘bout. I’m about to take my free liquor and go home. My girl just let me back in the house, and I don’t need yo’ fucked up vibes,