“He scanned my face with careful hope in his eyes.
“You love me?”
“It’s the tattoos,” I shrugged.
A wide smile stretched across his face, making his
dimple sink into his cheek.”
― Beautiful Disaster
“You love me?”
“It’s the tattoos,” I shrugged.
A wide smile stretched across his face, making his
dimple sink into his cheek.”
― Beautiful Disaster
“Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence,
But never tax'd for speech.”
― All's Well That Ends Well
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence,
But never tax'd for speech.”
― All's Well That Ends Well
“My
name’s Travis. Travis Maddox.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know who you are.”
“You do, huh?” Travis said, raising his wounded
eyebrow.
“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s hard not to notice when fifty
drunks are chanting your name. “
Travis sat up a bit taller. “I get that a lot.” I rolled my
eyes again, and Travis chuckled. “Do you have a
twitch?”
“A what?”
“A twitch. Your eyes keep wiggling around.” He laughed
again when I glared at him. “Those are some amazing eyes
though,” he said, leaning just inches from my face.”
― Beautiful Disaster
name’s Travis. Travis Maddox.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know who you are.”
“You do, huh?” Travis said, raising his wounded
eyebrow.
“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s hard not to notice when fifty
drunks are chanting your name. “
Travis sat up a bit taller. “I get that a lot.” I rolled my
eyes again, and Travis chuckled. “Do you have a
twitch?”
“A what?”
“A twitch. Your eyes keep wiggling around.” He laughed
again when I glared at him. “Those are some amazing eyes
though,” he said, leaning just inches from my face.”
― Beautiful Disaster
“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
― Hamlet
― Hamlet
“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste: And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.”
― A Midsummer Night’s Dream
― A Midsummer Night’s Dream
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