Quotes About Expression

Impasse I could tell you If I wanted to, What makes me What I am. But I don't Really want to – And you don't Give a damn.

7 x 7 + love = An amount Infinitely above: 7 x 7 - love.

Go home and write / a page tonight. / And let that page come out of you - / Then, it will be true.

Books -where if people suffered, they suffered in beautiful language, not in monosyllables, as we did in Kansas

I keep thinking about blood, I dream about it. Wake up thinking about it. Pretty soon I'll be writing morbid emo poetry about it.

How can you tell? That I like books, I mean. The look on your face when you walked in, somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me.

These pictures are my heart. And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you.

Hey Baby. Baby? You're kidding me, right? I was trying it out. No? No.

Wo wei ni xie de," he said, as he raised the violin to his left shoulder, tucking it under his chin. He had told her many violinists used a shoulder rest, but he did not: there was a slight mark on the side of his throat, like a permanent bruise, where the violin rested. "You — made something for me?" Tessa asked. "I wrote something for you," he corrected, with a smile, and began to play.

What I actually want to call you is a hell of a lot more unprintable than your name

Softly, Magnus said, "Aku cinta kamu." "What does that mean?" Magnus disentangled himself from Alec's grip. "It means I love you. Not that that changes anything.

Every heart has its own melody," he said. "You know mine.

Ni hen piao liang. " "What does it mean?" "It means that you are beautiful.

There was something peculiarly gratifying about shouting in a blind rage until your words ran out.

You have a book that's also a face?

Why all these paintings of you? Because I'm an artist, Emma. These pictures are my heart. And if my heart was a canvas, every square inch of it would be painted over with you.

He played of love and loss and years of silence, words unsaid and vows unspoken, and all the spaces between his heart and theirs; and when he was done, and he'd set the violin back in its box, Will's eyes were closed, but Tessa's were full of tears.

Anger, Tessa thought, was satisfying in its own way, when you gave in to it. There was something gratifying about shouting in a blind rage until your words ran out.

He had electric blue hair that had stuck around his head like tendrils of a startled octopus.

This cat is looking at me with judgment.""He's not," said Jules. "That's just his face.""You look at me the same way," Mark said, glancing at Julian. "Judgy face.

You can take your Law," she said in a measured tone, "and shove it right up your-

He's got a great sense of humor for a guy who never says anything.

But you hate poetry! Yes, but you make me want to write it.

I think of myself as a freewheeling bisexual,' - Magnus Bane