Triangle Love Story Quotes

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All writers are manipulative liars." Jack O. Savage, The Poet
Hunter S. Jones (September Ends)
Well sue me for staring. I'd be willing to scrub away my shame on his washboard abs.
Tia Giacalone (Hey Sunshine (Hey Sunshine, #1))
Something that’s bothered me for a while now is the current profligacy in YA culture of Team Boy 1 vs Team Boy 2 fangirling. [...] Despite the fact that I have no objection to shipping, this particular species of team-choosing troubled me, though I had difficulty understanding why. Then I saw it applied to Suzanne Collins’s The Hunger Games trilogy – Team Peeta vs Team Gale – and all of a sudden it hit me that anyone who thought romance and love-triangles were the main event in that series had utterly missed the point. Sure, those elements are present in the story, but they aren’t anywhere near being the bones of it, because The Hunger Games, more than anything else, is about war, survival, politics, propaganda and power. Seeing such a strong, raw narrative reduced to a single vapid argument – which boy is cuter? – made me physically angry. So, look. People read different books for different reasons. The thing I love about a story are not necessarily the things you love, and vice versa. But riddle me this: are the readers of these series really so excited, so thrilled by the prospect of choosing! between! two! different! boys! that they have to boil entire narratives down to a binary equation based on male physical perfection and, if we’re very lucky, chivalrous behaviour? While feminism most certainly champions the right of women to chose their own partners, it also supports them to choose things besides men, or to postpone the question of partnership in favour of other pursuits – knowledge, for instance. Adventure. Careers. Wild dancing. Fun. Friendship. Travel. Glorious mayhem. And while, as a woman now happily entering her fourth year of marriage, I’d be the last person on Earth to suggest that male companionship is inimical to any of those things, what’s starting to bother me is the comparative dearth of YA stories which aren’t, in some way, shape or form, focussed on Girls Getting Boyfriends, and particularly Hot Immortal Or Magical Boyfriends Whom They Will Love For All Eternity. Blog post: Love Team Freezer
Foz Meadows
Have you ever loved someone so intensely, so entirely ,that it's painful to be apart from them? I'm not talking about being in a long-distance relationship or even a particularly painful case of unrequited love. I'm talking about being in a completely different world from the other person, a world where you can see them and hear them but you can't touch them and they can't see or hear you.
Stacey Field (The Life and Afterlife of Charlie Brackwood)
You're kind of... distracting. Am I? Yes. In the best way.
Tia Giacalone (Hey Sunshine (Hey Sunshine, #1))
When I was twelve, someone stole all those dreams of normal from me." ~ Blake
Ashley Poch (Luck of Love (Luck, #1))
She doesn’t belong to me, but I will do everything in my fucking power to change that.
 She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Dolores Lane (Painting with Blood (The Blood Duet))
Can dimples wink? Because I felt like his just did.
Tia Giacalone (Hey Sunshine (Hey Sunshine, #1))
She just kept staring at her," she lamented. "Like I wasn't even there." ..."The trouble with lesbian love triangles is you can't tell which 'she' and which 'her' we're talking about.
Molly Ringle (Underworld's Daughter (The Chrysomelia Stories, #2))
I was so moved that she remembered my birthday that I cried harder than I had in years. When I returned her call, she told me her computer was broken and she couldn't afford to replace it. My heart fell. As I had done so many times before, I went to her rescue. Still on the phone, I went online and bought her a new laptop, top-of-the-line. That was what she had really called for, She thanked me and hung up. I went to Casey, sobbing. Soon afterward, I closed the bank account and asked my mom to not ask me for any more gifts or money. Now my relationship with my mom is very limited, and it's still very painful for me. She continues to occasionally send me bills she can't pay. I respond by telling her that I love her but I cannot pay her bills.
Olga Trujillo (The Sum of My Parts: A Survivor's Story of Dissociative Identity Disorder)
That's how it all starts?" I could hardly believe that the source of the world's problems was a love triangle. "That's how it all starts," Thala confirmed. "I suppose it's how all human drama starts. It's not overnight. It takes years and years. It takes... a recognition that you'll never be the hero of the story." "So you choose to be the monster.
Aditi Khorana (The Library of Fates)
leave the timing of the
Peter Evans (Nemesis: The True Story of Aristotle Onassis, Jackie O, and the Love Triangle That Brought Down the Kennedys)
For more than two million years man has been a hunter, and he still hasn't found what he wants.
Jack Deveny (Blind Triangle: A Rare Love Story from the Sixties)
Depression is a phobia of happiness.
Jack Deveny (Blind Triangle: A Rare Love Story from the Sixties)
They had no conception that sex had anything to do with emotional feelings and the desire for human contact — even among homosexuals. All that they cared about was a little bit of pleasure for themselves.
Heinz Heger (The Men with the Pink Triangle: The True Life-and-Death Story of Homosexuals in the Nazi Death Camps)
But at the same time, Dreiser points in An American Tragedy to the significance of those very social connections in the creation of Clyde’s criminal motivation. In asking how Clyde Griffiths the murderer was formed, Dreiser takes a panoramic view of economic development and social change in the United States during the decades leading up to the 1920s. In particular, he views Clyde as the product of a certain kind of family during a certain historical period. Though the story of Clyde draws on accounts of an actual 1906 murder, Dreiser deliberately avoids exactly dating the story, and the book thus comments not on a specific moment, but on an American era. The Cambridge Companion to Theodore Dreiser (Cambridge Companions to Literature) (p. 198). Cambridge University Press. Kindle Edition.
Leonard Cassuto (The Cambridge Companion to Theodore Dreiser (Cambridge Companions to Literature))
As a fantasist, I well understand the power of escapism, particularly as relates to romance. But when so many stories aimed at the same audience all trumpet the same message – And Lo! There shall be Two Hot Boys, one of them your Heart’s Intended, the other a vain Pretender who is also hot and with whom you shall have guilty makeouts before settling down with your One True Love – I am inclined to stop viewing the situation as benign and start wondering why, for instance, the heroines in these stories are only ever given a powerful, magical destiny of great importance to the entire world so long as fulfilling it requires male protection, guidance and companionship, and which comes to an end just as soon as they settle their inevitable differences with said swain and start kissing. I mean to invoke is something of the danger of mob rule, only applied to narrative and culture. Viz: that the comparative harmlessness of individuals does not prevent them from causing harm en masse. Take any one story with the structure mentioned above, and by itself, there’s no problem. But past a certain point, the numbers begin to tell – and that poses a tricky question. In the case of actual mobs, you’ll frequently find a ringleader, or at least a core set of agitators: belligerent louts who stir up feeling well beyond their ability to contain it. In the case of novels, however, things aren’t so clear cut. Authors tell the stories they want to tell, and even if a number of them choose to write a certain kind of narrative either in isolation or inspired by their fellows, holding any one of them accountable for the total outcome would be like trying to blame an avalanche on a single snowflake. Certainly, we may point at those with the greatest (arguable) influence or expostulate about creative domino effects, but as with the drop that breaks the levee, it is impossible to try and isolate the point at which a cluster of stories became a culture of stories – or, for that matter, to hold one particular narrative accountable for the whole.
Foz Meadows
But it wouldn’t have half the power of a story in which Jamie and Claire truly conquer real evil and thus show what real love is. Real love has real costs—and they’re worth it. I’ve always said all my books have a shape, and Outlander’s internal geometry consists of three slightly overlapping triangles. The apex of each triangle is one of the three emotional climaxes of the book: 1) when Claire makes her wrenching choice at the stones and stays with Jamie, 2) when she saves Jamie from Wentworth, and 3) when she saves his soul at the abbey. It would still be a good story if I’d had only 1 and 2—but (see above), the Rule of Three. A story that goes one, two, three, has a lot more impact than just a one–two punch.
Diana Gabaldon ("I Give You My Body . . .": How I Write Sex Scenes)
My ex-boyfriend was dramatic, adventurous, and selfish. At one time I thought I’d do anything to make him happy. I thought I might even love him, but I’d never told him that. He had me under his spell. That was before I found him sleeping with someone else. The three-year enchantment was broken after that. The magic lifted. Finding my boyfriend and a high school friend in bed together was horrific. Made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for him, and it took me a while to realize that wasn’t true. The aftermath of our breakup left me feeling utterly defeated, and my self-confidence plummeted to unimaginable depths—perhaps as low as the wreckage of a sunken ship or the depths of the Mariana Trench, which is known to be the deepest point in the ocean. It was that bad.
Kayla Cunningham
When Camilla and her husband joined Prince Charles on a holiday in Turkey shortly before his polo accident, she didn’t complain just as she bore, through gritted teeth, Camilla’s regular invitations to Balmoral and Sandringham. When Charles flew to Italy last year on a sketching holiday, Diana’s friends noted that Camilla was staying at another villa a short drive away. On her return Mrs Parker-Bowles made it quite clear that any suggestion of impropriety was absurd. Her protestations of innocence brought a tight smile from the Princess. That changed to scarcely controlled anger during their summer holiday on board a Greek tycoon’s yacht. She quietly simmered as she heard her husband holding forth to dinner-party guests about the virtues of mistresses. Her mood was scarcely helped when, later that evening, she heard him chatting on the telephone to Camilla. They meet socially on occasion but, there is no love lost between these two women locked into an eternal triangle of rivalry. Diana calls her rival “the rotweiller” while Camilla refers to the Princess as that “ridiculous creature”. At social engagements they are at pains to avoid each other. Diana has developed a technique in public of locating Camilla as quickly as possible and then, depending on her mood, she watches Charles when he looks in her direction or simply evades her gaze. “It is a morbid game,” says a friend. Days before the Salisbury Cathedral spire appeal concert Diana knew that Camilla was going. She vented her frustration in conversations with friends so that on the day of the event the Princess was able to watch the eye contact between her husband and Camilla with quiet amusement. Last December all those years of pent-up emotion came flooding out at a memorial service for Leonora Knatchbull, the six-year-old daughter of Lord and Lady Romsey, who tragically died of cancer. As Diana left the service, held at St James’s Palace, she was photographed in tears. She was weeping in sorrow but also in anger. Diana was upset that Camilla Parker Bowles who had only known the Romseys for a short time was also present at such an intimate family service. It was a point she made vigorously to her husband as they travelled back to Kensington Palace in their chauffeur-driven limousine. When they arrived at Kensington Palace the Princess felt so distressed that she ignored the staff Christmas party, which was then in full swing, and went to her sitting-room to recover her composure. Diplomatically, Peter Westmacott, the Wales’s deputy private secretary, sent her avuncular detective Ken Wharfe to help calm her.
Andrew Morton (Diana: Her True Story in Her Own Words)
The biggest canvas is wider than my arm span. It’s bursting with so much color it looks like a graffiti artist got too excited with a spray can. But it’s my story, told in brushstrokes and acrylic paint. There's Jamie and me as children, hiding in trees and searching for ladybugs. There's me alone, searching for stars in the dark. There's my mom, the queen of the starfish, existing in a tornado of glitter that poisons anything else it touches. There are my brothers and me, living on opposite sides of a triangle, experiencing the same things but never together. There's my dad, never knowing or doing as much as he should but trying to fix the poison all the same. There's Hiroshi, painting my hands so I can paint my voice. There's me split in half—Japanese and white—stitching myself together again because I am whole only when I’ve embraced the true beauty of my heritage. And there's Jamie and me in June, the sun on our faces and the sand at our feet, finding each other again after all those years. Our lives trail around us, sometimes broken and sometimes beautiful, but all puzzled and tangled up into the lump that is us. We fit together not because we need each other, but because we choose each other. Our friendship was always our choice. Love was a natural progression. Jamie stares at the painting for so long that I think the room actually starts to get darker. When he turns to face me, he looks relieved. Calm. Jamie turns back to the painting. We don’t need words. We just know. Our fingers find each other’s.
Akemi Dawn Bowman (Starfish)
Perhaps they exist in the deepest, darkest part of the ancient caves for good reason: they make fun of someone. Perhaps someone powerful. Perhaps rather than being sacred paintings for ancient religious rituals or to ensure the success of the hunt, they are caricatures, the first political cartoons, hidden because they lampoon the leaders, castigate the powerful, and ridicule the rich. Perhaps they tell one of a timeless story—a love triangle or fear of deadly beasts—for that is what political cartoons are all about. Leveling the playing field. It does
Rick Sapp (Political Cartoons)
Whether we choose the path of faith or not, we all must agree that all of life's ironies cannot be by accident.
Jack Deveny (Blind Triangle: A Rare Love Story from the Sixties)
The only certainty in life is that all things will certainly change.
Jack Deveny (Blind Triangle: A Rare Love Story from the Sixties)
naked
Tom Henderson (A Deadly Affair: The Shocking True Story of a High Profile Love Triangle that Led to Murder (St. Martin's True Crime Library))
How ironic. I was crying on the shoulders of the one who is causing me so much pain. “Hush,
Brenda Barrett (Love Triangle: Three Sides To The Story)
Hello,” she smiled at me, a smile that could run the meat section of a supermarket for a whole week.
Brenda Barrett (Love Triangle: Three Sides To The Story)
She wasn’t herself in this new love triangle. She was Dior and Tasha was her.
Leo Sullivan (Keisha & Trigga 2 : A Gangster Love Story (Keisha & Trigga : A Gangster Love Story))
He paints a simple square house with a triangle roof that has an "S" inside, "Because, Suzanne, you are my home.
Jennifer Clement (Widow Basquiat: A Love Story)
I swallow, wanting to tell her more, tell her how beautiful her tits are, how I can’t keep my eyes from tracing down her curves to that magical triangle between her legs that screams my name.
Celia Aaron (Hot for Teacher Anthology: 19 Stories Filled with Lust and Love)
This is really important to me. Sometimes we need to do new things, even if they’re uncomfortable. It’s how we grow.
Vivian Mae (Lawsuit and Leather (Mine to Keep series, #1))
You were right to break it off. Because even breathing the same air as you is torture for me, Jane. I can’t stand to be around you anymore without touching you. You’re all that I can fucking think about. I think you feel it, too.
Dolores Lane (Painting with Blood (The Blood Duet))
When I was writing my novel The Ground Beneath Her Feet, I became enthralled by the myth of Orpheus, the greatest poet who was also the greatest singer, the personage in whom song and story became one. You can recount the myth of Orpheus in a hundred words or less: his love for the nymph Eurydice, her pursuit by the beekeeper Aristaeus, the snakebite that killed her, her descent into hell, his pursuit of her beyond the doors of death, his attempt to rescue her, his being granted by the lord of the underworld -- as a reward for the genius of his singing -- the possibility of leading her back to life as long as he didn't look back, and his fatal backward look. And yet when you begin to delve into the story it seems almost inexhaustibly rich, for at its heart is a great triangular tension between the grandest matters of life: love, art and death. You can turn and turn the story and the triangle tells you different things. It tells you that art, inspired by love, can have a greater power than death. It tells you, contrariwise, that death, in spite of art, can defeat the power of love. And it tells you that art alone can make possible the transaction between love and death that is at the centre of all human life.
Salman Rushdie (Languages of Truth: Essays 2003-2020)
It's easier to be stabbed in the back than fall on the dagger yourself, you see.
Bethany Hagen (Three Sides of a Heart: Stories about Love Triangles)
Filming took place at Research Triangle Park, which was home to three major research universities. Important scenes between Christopher Walken, Natalie Wood, Louise Fletcher and Cliff Robertson were photographed at the Burroughs Wellcome building, where AZT, the first antiretroviral drug approved to treat patients with HIV, was developed.
Howard Johns (Drowning Sorrows: A True Story of Love, Passion and Betrayal)
In the development of its love story, Singin’ in the Rain follows a particular plotline that came to have a great deal of currency in Hollywood films, especially in “buddy” films (and most especially those directed by Howard Hawks), involving a kind of “love triangle” in which the long-standing friendship of two men (often a hero and his sidekick) is threatened by the attraction of one of them to a woman introduced early on (the ingénue, although often not exactly an innocent).26 Generally, this plot situation may be taken to carry homosexual overtones, so that the story becomes a parable about embracing heterosexual love. This interpretation is, of course, quite easily avoided, since most sidekicks have next to no discernible sex drive, at least during the film’s story,27 but it is surely significant that, in more recent times, the asexual sidekick is often replaced by a homosexual friend. And even the latter development may be explained away, given the utility of the sidekick plot situation and recent shifts in what audiences might accept as either “natural” or interesting wrinkles on the device. Nevertheless, the homoerotic tension in some of these relationships is significant enough to lay the entire tradition open to this interpretive avenue.
Raymond Knapp (The American Musical and the Performance of Personal Identity)
The women represented his sister, whom he had adored and who had abandoned him. He was still subconsciously in love with her, as she fulfilled the mother-role in the Oedipus triangle.
Micki Pistorius (Catch me a Killer: Serial murders – a profiler's true story)
he had been sexually abused by his mother as a boy. After all, he did sleep in her bed until he was sixteen years old which is a very unhealthy situation. The rejection by an abusive father and a double-binding mother provided enough childhood trauma to qualify him as a person who could develop into a serial killer. He told me he loved his mother, but he considered her to be a prostitute. He experienced the double-bind love-hate relationship with her. This is a relationship where a mother behaves sexually and in a seductive manner towards her son, but rejects him as soon as he seeks intimacy. He could have killed the prostitutes because they represented his mother to him. It was a classic Oedipus triangle. He was in love with the seductive but rejecting mother figure, hated the father figure, and felt mentally castrated by both of them. Since he had problems getting an erection, he did not kill the prostitutes who were patient and loving towards him, as Sally had been. They represented the ‘Good Mother’. He killed the ones who became impatient and who probably belittled him, and they represented the ‘Bad Mother’.
Micki Pistorius (Catch me a Killer: Serial murders – a profiler's true story)
What does it say about the world we live in, if an adult man is told how and whom he should love?
Heinz Heger (The Men with the Pink Triangle: The True Life-and-Death Story of Homosexuals in the Nazi Death Camps)