Catherynne M. Valente Quotes
Perhaps all a Tsaritsa is is a beautiful cold girl in the snow, looking down at someone wretched, and not yielding.
Catherynne M. Valente
Quotes to Explore
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When I was writing 'The Windup Girl' and 'Ship Breaker,' I was writing those simultaneously, so I was an unpublished writer, not really having that full sense that these books would go out in the world, that they would be successful, that there would be an audience and that there would be fans of those stories.
Paolo Bacigalupi
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The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither need you do anything but be yourself.
Lao Tzu
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When you have girl children they torture you!
Pat Benatar
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If a little black girl in Montgomery, Alabama, or some far-reaching region sees something that I do and aspires to do it one day with the knowledge that she can achieve it, then hey, my work is done.
Octavia Spencer
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My mom read French 'Elle' when I was a little girl, and so, when I was 15 or 16, I said, 'I want to work in fashion.'
Carine Roitfeld
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My husband was in the war of the Crimea. It is terrible the hardships he went through, to be two months without going into a house, under the snow in trenches. And no food to get, maybe a biscuit in the day. And there was enough food there, he said, to feed all Ireland; but bad management, they could not get it.
Lady Gregory
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I wish I could be as thin as Jessica Simpson. I think she looks gorgeous! I have had Jessica on my show several times, and I can tell you that girl is genuine and funny with a great self-deprecating sense of humor.
Rachael Ray
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Drown in a cold vat of whiskey? Death, where is thy sting?
W. C. Fields
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When your mother dies, you're not a little girl any more.
Kate Bush
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I was never a boy magnet at school. There was always the girl all the guys liked and wanted to date, but it was never me.
Taylor Swift
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I was so unhealthy. I used to go to 'Cold Stone Creamery,' get a tub of Butterfinger ice cream, and eat it all before bedtime. And my fingers were permanently stained orange from Cheetos.
Vanessa Hudgens
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And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is all his own, retiring, as he were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
