Quotes, Poems, & Sayings...

[prettylilgrrl]

Boys are like stars, there are millions of them out there, but only one can make your dreams come true
Courtney Conner

[girl_dee]

Who's to say that love needs to be soft and gentle?" -Dr. Twardon in Secretary

[wolfbittenpoet]

I just sit at a typewriter and curse a bit.
P. G. Wodehouse

[wolfbittenpoet]

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
Ernest Hemingway

[Kätzchen]

Cause it's a bitter sweet symphony this life...
Trying to make ends meet, you're a slave to the money then you die.
I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down...
You know the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet, yeah.

No change, I can't change, I can't change, I can't change,
but I'm here in my mold, I am here in my mold.
But I'm a million different people from one day to the next...
I can't change my mold, no,no,no,no,no,no,no

Well I've never prayed,
But tonight I'm on my knees, yeah.
I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah.
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now.
But the airwaves are clean and there's nobody singing to me now.

No change, I can't change, I can't change, I can't change,
but I'm here in my mold, I am here in my mold.
And I'm a million different people from one day to the next
I can't change my mold, no,no,no,no,no

Have you ever been down?
I can't change, I can't change...

Cause it's a bittersweet symphony this life.
Trying to make ends meet, trying to find somebody then you die.

You know I can't change, I can't change, I can't change, I can't change
but I'm here in my mold, I am here in my mold.
And I'm a million different people from one day to the next.
///I can't change my mold, no,no,no,no,no///

(It justs sex and violence melody and silence)
(It justs sex and violence melody and silence)
(I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down)
(It justs sex and violence melody and silence)
(I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down)
(Been down)
(Ever been down)
(Ever been down)(Lalalalalalaaaaaaaa...)
(Ever been down)
(Ever been down)
(Have you ever been down?)
(Have you ever been down?)
(Have you ever been down?)

[Butterbean]

Enduring habits I hate.... Yes, at the very bottom of my soul I feel grateful to all my misery and bouts of sickness and everything about me that is imperfect, because this sort of thing leaves me with a hundred backdoors through which I can escape from enduring habits.

~Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, 1882

[dixie]

"Multi-task? Why yes, I can screw up multiple things at one time!"

[turasultana]

"I don't really identify with the label 'bisexual,' nor does it feel like it accurately describes me...I see myself as queer, since queer to me is not just about who I love or lust, but it's about my culture, my community, and my politics. The truth is, even if I were with a heterosexual guy, I'd be a queer dyke."

Tristan Taormino

[justkim]

~ If you cannot inspire a woman with love of you,
fill her above the brim with love of herself;
all that runs over will be yours. ~

~ Charles Caleb Colton ~

[Diva]

Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire.

~Confucius

[Diva]

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

~Robert Frost

[Diva]

Decide that You want it more than You're afraid of it.

~Bill Cosby

[Jesse]

Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. ~Samuel Ullman

[Jesse]

How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were? ~Satchel Paige

[Jesse]

The ultimate test of a relationship is to disagree but to hold hands. ~Quoted by Alexandra Penney in Self

[weatherboi]

How to Make Love to a Trans Person

Forget the images you've learned to attach
To words like cock and clit,
Chest and breasts.
Break those words open
Like a paramedic cracking ribs
To pump blood through a failing heart.
Push your hands inside.
Get them messy.
Scratch new definitions on the bones.

Get rid of the old words altogether.
Make up new words.
Call it a click or a ditto.
Call it the sound he makes
When you brush your hand against it through his jeans,
When you can hear his heart knocking on the back of his teeth
And every cell in his body is breathing.
Make the arch of her back a language
Name the hollows of each of her vertebrae
When they catch pools of sweat
Like rainwater in a row of paper cups
Align your teeth with this alphabet of her spine
So every word is weighted with the salt of her.

When you peel layers of clothing from his skin
Do not act as though you are changing dressings on a trauma patient
Even though it's highly likely that you are.
Do not ask if she's "had the surgery."
Do not tell him that the needlepoint bruises on his thighs look like they hurt
If you are being offered a body
That has already been laid upon an altar of surgical steel
A sacrifice to whatever gods govern bodies
That come with some assembly required
Whatever you do,
Do not say that the carefully sculpted landscape
Bordered by rocky ridges of scar tissue
Looks almost natural.

If she offers you breastbone
Aching to carve soft fruit from its branches
Though there may be more tissue in the lining of her bra
Than the flesh that rises to meet it, Let her ripen in your hands.
Imagine if she'd lost those swells to cancer,
Diabetes,
A car accident instead of an accident of genetics
Would you think of her as less a woman then?
Then think of her as no less one now.

If he offers you a thumb-sized sprout of muscle
Reaching toward you when you kiss him
Like it wants to go deep enough inside you
To scratch his name on the bottom of your heart
Hold it as if it can-
In your hand, in your mouth
Inside the nest of your pelvic bones.
Though his skin may hardly do more than brush yours,
You will feel him deeper than you think.

Realize that bodies are only a fraction of who we are
They're just oddly-shaped vessels for hearts
And honestly, they can barely contain us
We strain at their seams with every breath we take
We are all pulse and sweat,
Tissue and nerve ending
We are programmed to grope and fumble until we get it right.
Bodies have been learning each other forever.
It's what bodies do.
They are grab bags of parts
And half the fun is figuring out
All the different ways we can fit them together;
All the different uses for hipbones and hands,
Tongues and teeth;
All the ways to car-crash our bodies beautiful.
But we could never forget how to use our hearts
Even if we tried.
That's the important part.
Don't worry about the bodies.
They've got this.

[Janstevie]

If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.

[dixie]

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit...but the highest form of intelligence."

[dixie]

You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul ~ Julie de Lespinasse

[dixie]

Life is fury, he'd thought. Fury — sexual, Oedipal, political, magical, brutal — drives us to our finest heights and coarsest depths. Out of furia comes creation, inspiration, originality, passion, but also violence, pain, pure unafraid destruction, the giving and receiving of blows from which we never recover. The Furies pursue us; Shiva dances his furious dance to create and also to destroy. But never mind about gods! Sara ranting at him represented the human spirit in its purest, least socialized form. This is what we are, what we civilize ourselves to disguise — the terrifying human animal in us, the exalted, transcendent, self-destructive, untramelled lord of creation. ~ Salman Rushdie