“Fucking hell, India Savage wants hearts and flowers.”I went up on my forearm. Hearts and flowers! As if! I was a Rock Chick!“I do not!” I snapped.He was grinning at me. “Yes you do.”
―
Kristen Ashley,
Rock Chick
“Babe, wacthing you these past months has been like watching a flower bloom. Don't disappoint us.” ― Kristen Ashley, Rock Chick Rescue
“Women like clothes, they like shoes, they like flowers and they like people to look at them and think,‘God, she’s gorgeous.’ The more people who think that, the better it is. The one day in your life where you get all that rolled up into one is your wedding day. And itcomes with jewelry and presents and endswith a vacation where it’s practically law that you have to wear fabulous underwear and have lots of sex.” ― Kristen Ashley, Mystery Man
“I haven’t bought Jerra flowers since I pissed her off when we were datin’ and fell asleep durin’ some crappy-ass movie she forced me to take her to sayin’ that movie was Hollywood’s version f us. How could I fall asleep watching the story of us, she asks. And, bro, if that was us, we are borin’ as shit.” ― Kristen Ashley, Games of the Heart
“I was stuck back on “you can’t have two maids of honor” and therefore fighting back hyperventilation at the same time flashing pictures filled my head of a commando-style wedding; Hawk in black cargos, me in a white flak jacket festooned with lace. The picture of me carrying a bouquet of flowers and Hawk carrying an automatic weapon. The picture of me admiring Hawk’s huge-ass hunting knife. The picture of Hawk carrying me out of the reception in a fireman’s hold while bullets flew and flames caused by Molotov cocktails danced on the dance floor.” ― Kristen Ashley
“On the third day, it hit me what he was doing. He was taking his time. Allowing me to chat with townsfolk, window shop, smell the flowers, taste the foods and drink in the landscape. He was giving me his world.” ― Kristen Ashley, Fantastical
“But looking at a photograph of oneself is not proof of an affair. And asking a question about a type of flower is not proof of an affair. Thes are, though, the kinds of things that fester in a person's mind until she no longer feels loved; they are the happenings that took us from a place we could have survived, even in the grave face of death that nearly killed me, too, to the place we simply could not com eback from. These things became too heavy and too hurtful, habitual abuses in what once felt like the safest place in the world.” ― Ashley Audrain, The Push
“I don’t do hearts and flowers, but I promise you won’t be disappointed.” “You are so cocky.” “Honey, I don’t give a fuck if you don’t believe it’s gonna be good between us. I know we’ll both enjoy me proving it to you.” ― Kristen Ashley, Rock Chick
“You're like a flower that grew through a crack in the sidewalk, he told me” ― Kristen Ashley
“We are nature.Our bodies carry its swimming waters.We are made of the soiland eat the plants that grow from it.From dust to dustwe come and go.Each time I bring my hands to my heart in prayer,flowing my body with my breath,it is devotional, a dance with the earthand of the earth. I dance with every tree,sway with the wind,bloom with every flowerin my being.My breath,Mother Earth,is yours.—the whole planet is in me” ― Ashley Asti, Yoga Heartsongs
“They are both quite lovely. One is a white bowl with a blue flush and interlinked flowers. The other is red flowers and thinner porcelain. The wash and fineness of the porcelain indicate it might be Imperial Ware. Have I got that right?” “Exactly right,” Ian said. “I found a book in Paris,” she said with a cheeky smile. Ian looked at her and forgot everything else in the room. He was aware of Hart’s stare butonly peripherally, as though an insect buzzed on the edges of his hearing. How did Beth always know what words he needed and precisely when to say them? Even Curry didn’t anticipate him like that.” ― Jennifer Ashley, The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie
“What if even then, God had plans for a second garden? Another tree, and another chance to reach out and accept the abundance of life? What if in Eden, God was planning Gethsemane?"The question echoed through Lucy, growing in power with each reverberation within her soul.She held a flower in her hands. The sweet, exotic perfume floated deep into Lucy's heart---carrying Ms. Beth's words right along beside it. Lucy hesitated, allowing the words to take effect. "Are you circling a closed Eden, or have you chosen to step into Gethsemane, through the open gate?"Lucy blinked. She had never thought of it like that."Maybe what you thought was a closed gate meant to punish you is actually God's way of protecting you from remaining in a place where you won't and can't receive His life."The truth washed Lucy's heart with color. As it brushed over the harsh edges with water, watercolor blooms began to blend one into the other, filling her with understanding.Lucy's heart swelled as the long-dry soil soaked up this water."Where you're preoccupied with your failures and your fears and the desire to preserve all you might lose, God has a plan to preserve something else. To root you in a place where life can grow within you once more, freely and abundantly. A garden of death for a garden of life, where through His own resurrection Jesus returns all that was stolen.” ― Ashley Clark, Paint and Nectar
“A movement like that can be summed up in this - that redemption, like sunlight, always reaches through the gates, and that we, like flowers, bend toward what grows us. So that the imitations and likenesses we have accepted as originals are exposed as deception, and we are left with the hope of a truer inheritance, a truer promise: a second garden, where all the dead things come alive again and all that was forfeited is restored and al that is fractured becomes a mosaic of color.” ― Ashley Clark
“Everything that dies never really goes. In little ways, it all stays." Not in the horrific way Lee wrote it. Not with the moaning ghosts and terrifying poltergeists and living dead, but in the way the sun came back around again, the way flowers browned and became dirt and new seeds bloomed the next spring. Everything died, but pieces of it remained.” ― Ashley Poston, The Dead Romantics
“Now, what's a pretty flower like you doing in a wood like this?” ― Ashley Poston, Among the Beasts & Briars
“What small tragedies their lives had turned out to be.” ― Ashley Flowers, All Good People Here
“He clicked this tongue to the roof of this mouth, studying me for a moment, his eyes a shade darker than they had been before. "I think your favorite color is yellow," he guessed, and watched as the surprise trickled across my face. "But not a bright yellow - more of a golden yellow. The color of sunflowers. That might be your favorite flower.” ― Ashley Poston, The Seven Year Slip
“Krissy felt something harden inside her—all these women, their daughters alive and well, come to get off on how benevolent and sad Krissy’s story made them feel. She would gladly murder any one of their daughters right now to have hers back for one more day.” ― Ashley Flowers, All Good People Here
“Her uncle was a good man. He wasn’t like Elliott Wallace. He would never, could never, hurt anyone, let alone a six-year-old girl. And yet, for the first time since she’d been there, that night she locked her bedroom door.” ― Ashley Flowers, All Good People Here
“Babe, wacthing you these past months has been like watching a flower bloom. Don't disappoint us.” ― Kristen Ashley, Rock Chick Rescue
“Women like clothes, they like shoes, they like flowers and they like people to look at them and think,‘God, she’s gorgeous.’ The more people who think that, the better it is. The one day in your life where you get all that rolled up into one is your wedding day. And itcomes with jewelry and presents and endswith a vacation where it’s practically law that you have to wear fabulous underwear and have lots of sex.” ― Kristen Ashley, Mystery Man
“I haven’t bought Jerra flowers since I pissed her off when we were datin’ and fell asleep durin’ some crappy-ass movie she forced me to take her to sayin’ that movie was Hollywood’s version f us. How could I fall asleep watching the story of us, she asks. And, bro, if that was us, we are borin’ as shit.” ― Kristen Ashley, Games of the Heart
“I was stuck back on “you can’t have two maids of honor” and therefore fighting back hyperventilation at the same time flashing pictures filled my head of a commando-style wedding; Hawk in black cargos, me in a white flak jacket festooned with lace. The picture of me carrying a bouquet of flowers and Hawk carrying an automatic weapon. The picture of me admiring Hawk’s huge-ass hunting knife. The picture of Hawk carrying me out of the reception in a fireman’s hold while bullets flew and flames caused by Molotov cocktails danced on the dance floor.” ― Kristen Ashley
“On the third day, it hit me what he was doing. He was taking his time. Allowing me to chat with townsfolk, window shop, smell the flowers, taste the foods and drink in the landscape. He was giving me his world.” ― Kristen Ashley, Fantastical
“But looking at a photograph of oneself is not proof of an affair. And asking a question about a type of flower is not proof of an affair. Thes are, though, the kinds of things that fester in a person's mind until she no longer feels loved; they are the happenings that took us from a place we could have survived, even in the grave face of death that nearly killed me, too, to the place we simply could not com eback from. These things became too heavy and too hurtful, habitual abuses in what once felt like the safest place in the world.” ― Ashley Audrain, The Push
“I don’t do hearts and flowers, but I promise you won’t be disappointed.” “You are so cocky.” “Honey, I don’t give a fuck if you don’t believe it’s gonna be good between us. I know we’ll both enjoy me proving it to you.” ― Kristen Ashley, Rock Chick
“You're like a flower that grew through a crack in the sidewalk, he told me” ― Kristen Ashley
“We are nature.Our bodies carry its swimming waters.We are made of the soiland eat the plants that grow from it.From dust to dustwe come and go.Each time I bring my hands to my heart in prayer,flowing my body with my breath,it is devotional, a dance with the earthand of the earth. I dance with every tree,sway with the wind,bloom with every flowerin my being.My breath,Mother Earth,is yours.—the whole planet is in me” ― Ashley Asti, Yoga Heartsongs
“They are both quite lovely. One is a white bowl with a blue flush and interlinked flowers. The other is red flowers and thinner porcelain. The wash and fineness of the porcelain indicate it might be Imperial Ware. Have I got that right?” “Exactly right,” Ian said. “I found a book in Paris,” she said with a cheeky smile. Ian looked at her and forgot everything else in the room. He was aware of Hart’s stare butonly peripherally, as though an insect buzzed on the edges of his hearing. How did Beth always know what words he needed and precisely when to say them? Even Curry didn’t anticipate him like that.” ― Jennifer Ashley, The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie
“What if even then, God had plans for a second garden? Another tree, and another chance to reach out and accept the abundance of life? What if in Eden, God was planning Gethsemane?"The question echoed through Lucy, growing in power with each reverberation within her soul.She held a flower in her hands. The sweet, exotic perfume floated deep into Lucy's heart---carrying Ms. Beth's words right along beside it. Lucy hesitated, allowing the words to take effect. "Are you circling a closed Eden, or have you chosen to step into Gethsemane, through the open gate?"Lucy blinked. She had never thought of it like that."Maybe what you thought was a closed gate meant to punish you is actually God's way of protecting you from remaining in a place where you won't and can't receive His life."The truth washed Lucy's heart with color. As it brushed over the harsh edges with water, watercolor blooms began to blend one into the other, filling her with understanding.Lucy's heart swelled as the long-dry soil soaked up this water."Where you're preoccupied with your failures and your fears and the desire to preserve all you might lose, God has a plan to preserve something else. To root you in a place where life can grow within you once more, freely and abundantly. A garden of death for a garden of life, where through His own resurrection Jesus returns all that was stolen.” ― Ashley Clark, Paint and Nectar
“A movement like that can be summed up in this - that redemption, like sunlight, always reaches through the gates, and that we, like flowers, bend toward what grows us. So that the imitations and likenesses we have accepted as originals are exposed as deception, and we are left with the hope of a truer inheritance, a truer promise: a second garden, where all the dead things come alive again and all that was forfeited is restored and al that is fractured becomes a mosaic of color.” ― Ashley Clark
“Everything that dies never really goes. In little ways, it all stays." Not in the horrific way Lee wrote it. Not with the moaning ghosts and terrifying poltergeists and living dead, but in the way the sun came back around again, the way flowers browned and became dirt and new seeds bloomed the next spring. Everything died, but pieces of it remained.” ― Ashley Poston, The Dead Romantics
“Now, what's a pretty flower like you doing in a wood like this?” ― Ashley Poston, Among the Beasts & Briars
“What small tragedies their lives had turned out to be.” ― Ashley Flowers, All Good People Here
“He clicked this tongue to the roof of this mouth, studying me for a moment, his eyes a shade darker than they had been before. "I think your favorite color is yellow," he guessed, and watched as the surprise trickled across my face. "But not a bright yellow - more of a golden yellow. The color of sunflowers. That might be your favorite flower.” ― Ashley Poston, The Seven Year Slip
“Krissy felt something harden inside her—all these women, their daughters alive and well, come to get off on how benevolent and sad Krissy’s story made them feel. She would gladly murder any one of their daughters right now to have hers back for one more day.” ― Ashley Flowers, All Good People Here
“Her uncle was a good man. He wasn’t like Elliott Wallace. He would never, could never, hurt anyone, let alone a six-year-old girl. And yet, for the first time since she’d been there, that night she locked her bedroom door.” ― Ashley Flowers, All Good People Here
