A rose, isn't quite as beautiful as it once was, when after its thorn pricks you.
Anthony LiccioneTags: pain beauty ugly-truths rose thorn hurt-feelings pricks fooled ugly-beauty off-guard
We could, you know, go out for hot dogs. Don’t worry—they’re not actually dogs. It’s just a name. They’re these meat things that you put on buns—that’s a kind of bread—and then you top them with other things and—”
“I know what a hot dog is,” interrupted Mark.
“You do?” I asked, legitimately surprised. “How?”
“We’re not that remote. We have TV and movies. Besides, I’ve left Siberia, you know. I’ve been to the U.S.”
“Really? Did you try a hot dog?”
“No,” he said. “I was offered one … but it didn’t look that appetizing.”
“What!” I exclaimed. “Blasphemy. They’re delicious.”
“Aren’t they compressed animal parts?” he pushed.
“Well, yeah… I think so. But so is sausage.”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t know. Something’s just not right about a hot dog.”
“Not right? I think you mean so right.
Tags: humor vampire-academy rose hot-dogs
Mother Atkinson thought that every one should have a trade, or something to make a living out of , for rich people may grow poor, you know, and poor people have to work.... so when I saw how happy and independent those young ladies were, I wanted to have a trade, and then it wouldn't matter about money, though I like to have it well enough.
Louisa May AlcottTags: women rich work feminism independent trade poor rose aunt-hill eight-cousins
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