It seems that fighting is a game where everybody is the loser.
Zora Neale HurstonRead
He looked like the love thoughts of women.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that the man's appearance embodies the idealized thoughts and desires women have about love.
Zora Neale Hurston's quote captures the essence of romantic imagination, indicating that the man described resonates deeply with the idealistic and often poetic notions of love that women conceive. He represents not just physical attraction but also the emotional and aspirational qualities that define love in the hearts and minds of women, embodying their dreams and desires.
In practice
This quote can be used in a romantic speech to highlight what attraction means beyond physical beauty.
It seems that fighting is a game where everybody is the loser.
Lack of power and opportunity passes off too often for virtue.
From barren brown stems to glistening leaf-buds; from the leaf-buds to snowy virginity of bloomβ¦It was like a flute song forgotten in another existence and remembered again. What? How? Why? This singing she heard that had nothing to do with her ears. The rose of the world was breathing out smell. It followed her through all her waking moments and caressed her in her sleep.
Someone is always at my elbow reminding me that I am the granddaughter of slaves. It fails to register depression with me.
Don't you realize that the sea is the home of water? All water is off on a journey unless it's in the sea, and it's homesick, and bound to make its way home someday.
Two things everybody's got tuh do fuh theyselves. They got tuh go tuh God, and they got tuh find out about livin' fuh theyselves.
Tis better to have love and lust Than to let our apparatus rust.
The task is not to perfect yourself, it's to perfect your love.
Love is anterior to life, posterior to death, initial of creation, and the exponent of breath.
She stood before him and surrendered herself to him and sky, forest, and brook all came toward him in new and resplendent colors, belonged to him, and spoke to him in his own language. And instead of merely winning a woman he embraced the entire world and every star in heaven glowed within him and sparkled with joy in his soul. He had loved and had found himself. But most people love to lose themselves.
There was such an incredible logic to kissing, such a metal-to-magnet pull between two people that it was a wonder that they found the strength to prevent themselves from succumbing every second. Rightfully, the world should be a whirlpool of kissing into which we sank and never found the strength to rise up again.
Holding someone's hand was always my idea of joy.
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