“I wanted you, nameless Woman of the South,No wraith, but utterly—as still more aloneThe Southern Cross takes nightAnd lifts her girdles from her, one by one—High, cool, wide from the slowly smoldering fireOf lower heavens,— vaporous scars!Eve! Magdalene! or Mary, you?Whatever call—falls vainly on the wave.O simian Venus, homeless Eve,Unwedded, stumbling gardenless to grieveWindswept guitars on lonely decks forever;Finally to answer all within one grave!And this long wake of phosphor, iridescentFurrow of all our travel—trailed derision!Eyes crumble at its kiss. Its long-drawn spellIncites a yell. Slid on that backward visionThe mind is churned to spittle, whispering hell.I wanted you . . . The embers of the CrossClimbed by aslant and huddling aromatically.It is blood to remember; it is fireTo stammer back . . . It isGod—your namelessness. And the wash— All night the water combed you with blackInsolence. You crept out simmering, accomplished.Water rattled that stinging coil, yourRehearsed hair—docile, alas, from many arms.Yes, Eve—wraith of my unloved seed!The Cross, a phantom, buckled—dropped below the dawn.Light drowned the lithic trillions of your spawn.”
―
Hart Crane,
The Bridge
“She knew all about love—that beautiful, exquisitely painful but precious journey.” ― Mary Hart Perry, The Wild Princess
“You know,sometimes when people leave us,they leave big holes in our hearts.Some people talk about those holes all the time,hoping words will close them up.Other people pretend the hole aren't there,so that maybe they'll heal if they aren't bothered with so much” ― Marie Harte, What to Do with a Bad Boy
“She deleted the messages he continued to leave on her phone and set her ringer to identify his calls - what she should have done a week ago. The minute Loser by Beck played, she'd know it was him.” ― Marie Harte, Closing the Deal
“You must be desperate if you're asking Mom for adivce. Did she sit you down on the couch ?""I'm not a patient of hers, asswipe. I'm her favorite son." Derrick ignored Gage's huff. The little snot. (...)"Favorite, my ass. She pities you. Gage is nothing more than a baby-maker. I'm the favorite." Dylan preened, pulling at the cuffs on his designer shirt. "Culture, charm, good looks and a real occupation. What's not to love” ― Marie Harte, Closing the Deal
“Okay. Then I forgive you for being a complete shithead at the restaurant. It wasn't your fault your ex thought she had the right to treat me like crap and embarrass me in front of the entire restaurant. I'm sure the bleach in her hair tampered with the space between her ears and tainted her limited ability to think. That or the weight of those implants made it hard to focus on anything but standing up straight."Derrick blinked. "That's forgiveness ?""Do you have a problem with anything I just said ?""No, no. Not at all.” ― Marie Harte, Closing the Deal
“Family is the people you love who love you back.” ― Karen Marie Hart
“So I take the privilidge of the day, Mary, my dear — as the gen’l’m’n in difficulties did, ven he valked out of a Sunday — to tell you that the first and only time I see you, your likeness was took on my hart in much quicker time and brighter colours than ever a likeness was took by the profeel macheen (wich p’raps you may have heerd on Mary my dear) altho it does finish a portrait and put the frame and glass on complete, with a hook at the end to hang it up by, and all in two minutes and a quarter.” ― Charles Dickens, The Complete Works of Charles Dickens
“you cannot reason with the queen when she has her mind set on something…or against someone.” ― Mary Hart Perry, Seducing the Princess
“Mary the Canary lives in a cloud of perfume and colours. She's an auxiliary nurse by day and a country and western singer by night: bed pans and power ballass. She's so glamorous she makes Mrs Hart look plain. She is the other woman and I'm bring trained to hate her even though I've never met her.” ― Damian Barr, Maggie & Me
“Based on a 1934 play by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart, Merrily We Roll Along tells the story of three friends—Franklin Shepard, a composer; Charley Kringas, a playwright and lyricist; and Mary Flynn, a novelist—who meet in the enthusiasm of youth, when everything seems possible. The play traces what happens to their dreams and goals as time passes and they are faced with life’s surprises, travails, successes, and disappointments. The trick here is that the play moves chronologically backward. It begins on an evening in 1976 at a party for the opening of a movie Frank has produced. The movie is apparently a hit, but Frank’s personal life is a mess. His second wife, Gussie, formerly a Broadway star, was supposed to have starred in the movie but was deemed too old; she resents being in the shadows and suspects, correctly, that Frank is having an affair with the young actress who took over her part. Frank is estranged from his son from his first marriage. He is also estranged from Charley, his former writing partner—so estranged, in fact, that the very mention of his name brings the party to an uncomfortable standstill. Mary, unable to re-create the success of her one and only novel and suffering from a longtime unreciprocated love for Frank, has become a critic and a drunk; the disturbance she causes at the party results in a permanent break with Frank. The opening scene reaches its climax when Gussie throws iodine in the eyes of Frank’s mistress. The ensemble, commenting on the action much like the Greek chorus in Allegro, reprises the title song, asking, “How did you get to be here? / What was the moment?” (F 387). The play then moves backward in time as it looks for the turning points, the places where multiple possibilities morphed into narrative necessity.” ― Robert L. McLaughlin, Stephen Sondheim and the Reinvention of the American Musical
“Vesta Tilley and Marie Lloyd on the stage in Leeds meself, with me own eyes, mavourneen. Then there are the new tramcars. Amazing vehicles, to be sure, that run on tracks without the need for horses to pull ’em any more. They go from the Corn Exchange to all parts of town. I have ridden on one, sure and I have. I sat on the top deck, that’s open to the world and the weather, viewing the town like a real gent.” ― Barbara Taylor Bradford, A Woman of Substance
“I bristled, but tried not to show it. The last thing I wanted today was an argument with Charlotte. She was still furious with me for telling Mary Ella the truth about her surgery—which I admitted to her before Ann Laing had a chance to tell her—and she was never going to let me forget about the beach trip, either. “I’m going to go over to the Harts’ house this week to see how they’re doing,” I said” ― Diane Chamberlain, Necessary Lies
“Mouthy little girls get ass-fucked, Syd. How about that ?"She'd done it once before, just to see what it felt like. She hadn't liked it. "How about I ass-fuck you instead ?"He shook his head. "Uh-uh. Ever had a cock up your ass, baby ? Ever taken a dick between those sweet cheeks ?" He let go of her breast and pulled her closer to him, palming her ass.His fingers slid between her cheeks and toyed with her hole. To her astonishment, it felt good."Oh.""I like that oh better." He grinned and leaned down to whisper, "Want me to lick you there ? To shove my tongue in your hole and lap you up ?” ― Marie Harte, Closing the Deal
“As long as there is a tomorrow, Häschen, I do not care what you look like. Only that you are with me.” ― Marie Harte, The Kissing Game
“It" is the idea of him or her that resides in us--inspired by the "Something" in them, as Pope has it, "That gives us back the Image of our Mind." Although the perception of It must be excited by some extraordinary perturbation in the looks and personality of the adored, the aura that It broadcasts arises not merely from the singularity of an original, as Walter Benjamin supposed, but also from the fabulous success of its reproducibility in the imaginations of many others, charmed exponentially by the number of its copies. The one-of-kind item must become a type, a replicable role-icon of itself--from "a Charles Hart" or "a Nell Gwyn" to "a Mary Pickford" or "a Douglas Fairbanks"--in order to unleash the Pygmalion effect in the hearts and minds of the fans, making the idea of him or her theirs--as much or more than anything else they might call their own.” ― Joseph Roach, It
“Yes, Liebling.” He kissed the top of her head. “I am yours. Time to make sure you know you’re mine.” ― Marie Harte, The Kissing Game
“She sighed again, wondering how she’d be described as a character in one of her much-loved romance books.” ― Marie Harte, The Kissing Game
“It’s too much to expect that you would put up with all of this for me, not when you could have so much more with someone else. Things could be easier. I … I don’t know that things will ever be easy with me, Hannah. Not with Mary. Not now that she’s come back after all this time just to drag us both through hell.” ― Staci Hart, Love, Hannah: A Single Dad Romance
“She knew all about love—that beautiful, exquisitely painful but precious journey.” ― Mary Hart Perry, The Wild Princess
“You know,sometimes when people leave us,they leave big holes in our hearts.Some people talk about those holes all the time,hoping words will close them up.Other people pretend the hole aren't there,so that maybe they'll heal if they aren't bothered with so much” ― Marie Harte, What to Do with a Bad Boy
“She deleted the messages he continued to leave on her phone and set her ringer to identify his calls - what she should have done a week ago. The minute Loser by Beck played, she'd know it was him.” ― Marie Harte, Closing the Deal
“You must be desperate if you're asking Mom for adivce. Did she sit you down on the couch ?""I'm not a patient of hers, asswipe. I'm her favorite son." Derrick ignored Gage's huff. The little snot. (...)"Favorite, my ass. She pities you. Gage is nothing more than a baby-maker. I'm the favorite." Dylan preened, pulling at the cuffs on his designer shirt. "Culture, charm, good looks and a real occupation. What's not to love” ― Marie Harte, Closing the Deal
“Okay. Then I forgive you for being a complete shithead at the restaurant. It wasn't your fault your ex thought she had the right to treat me like crap and embarrass me in front of the entire restaurant. I'm sure the bleach in her hair tampered with the space between her ears and tainted her limited ability to think. That or the weight of those implants made it hard to focus on anything but standing up straight."Derrick blinked. "That's forgiveness ?""Do you have a problem with anything I just said ?""No, no. Not at all.” ― Marie Harte, Closing the Deal
“Family is the people you love who love you back.” ― Karen Marie Hart
“So I take the privilidge of the day, Mary, my dear — as the gen’l’m’n in difficulties did, ven he valked out of a Sunday — to tell you that the first and only time I see you, your likeness was took on my hart in much quicker time and brighter colours than ever a likeness was took by the profeel macheen (wich p’raps you may have heerd on Mary my dear) altho it does finish a portrait and put the frame and glass on complete, with a hook at the end to hang it up by, and all in two minutes and a quarter.” ― Charles Dickens, The Complete Works of Charles Dickens
“you cannot reason with the queen when she has her mind set on something…or against someone.” ― Mary Hart Perry, Seducing the Princess
“Mary the Canary lives in a cloud of perfume and colours. She's an auxiliary nurse by day and a country and western singer by night: bed pans and power ballass. She's so glamorous she makes Mrs Hart look plain. She is the other woman and I'm bring trained to hate her even though I've never met her.” ― Damian Barr, Maggie & Me
“Based on a 1934 play by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart, Merrily We Roll Along tells the story of three friends—Franklin Shepard, a composer; Charley Kringas, a playwright and lyricist; and Mary Flynn, a novelist—who meet in the enthusiasm of youth, when everything seems possible. The play traces what happens to their dreams and goals as time passes and they are faced with life’s surprises, travails, successes, and disappointments. The trick here is that the play moves chronologically backward. It begins on an evening in 1976 at a party for the opening of a movie Frank has produced. The movie is apparently a hit, but Frank’s personal life is a mess. His second wife, Gussie, formerly a Broadway star, was supposed to have starred in the movie but was deemed too old; she resents being in the shadows and suspects, correctly, that Frank is having an affair with the young actress who took over her part. Frank is estranged from his son from his first marriage. He is also estranged from Charley, his former writing partner—so estranged, in fact, that the very mention of his name brings the party to an uncomfortable standstill. Mary, unable to re-create the success of her one and only novel and suffering from a longtime unreciprocated love for Frank, has become a critic and a drunk; the disturbance she causes at the party results in a permanent break with Frank. The opening scene reaches its climax when Gussie throws iodine in the eyes of Frank’s mistress. The ensemble, commenting on the action much like the Greek chorus in Allegro, reprises the title song, asking, “How did you get to be here? / What was the moment?” (F 387). The play then moves backward in time as it looks for the turning points, the places where multiple possibilities morphed into narrative necessity.” ― Robert L. McLaughlin, Stephen Sondheim and the Reinvention of the American Musical
“Vesta Tilley and Marie Lloyd on the stage in Leeds meself, with me own eyes, mavourneen. Then there are the new tramcars. Amazing vehicles, to be sure, that run on tracks without the need for horses to pull ’em any more. They go from the Corn Exchange to all parts of town. I have ridden on one, sure and I have. I sat on the top deck, that’s open to the world and the weather, viewing the town like a real gent.” ― Barbara Taylor Bradford, A Woman of Substance
“I bristled, but tried not to show it. The last thing I wanted today was an argument with Charlotte. She was still furious with me for telling Mary Ella the truth about her surgery—which I admitted to her before Ann Laing had a chance to tell her—and she was never going to let me forget about the beach trip, either. “I’m going to go over to the Harts’ house this week to see how they’re doing,” I said” ― Diane Chamberlain, Necessary Lies
“Mouthy little girls get ass-fucked, Syd. How about that ?"She'd done it once before, just to see what it felt like. She hadn't liked it. "How about I ass-fuck you instead ?"He shook his head. "Uh-uh. Ever had a cock up your ass, baby ? Ever taken a dick between those sweet cheeks ?" He let go of her breast and pulled her closer to him, palming her ass.His fingers slid between her cheeks and toyed with her hole. To her astonishment, it felt good."Oh.""I like that oh better." He grinned and leaned down to whisper, "Want me to lick you there ? To shove my tongue in your hole and lap you up ?” ― Marie Harte, Closing the Deal
“As long as there is a tomorrow, Häschen, I do not care what you look like. Only that you are with me.” ― Marie Harte, The Kissing Game
“It" is the idea of him or her that resides in us--inspired by the "Something" in them, as Pope has it, "That gives us back the Image of our Mind." Although the perception of It must be excited by some extraordinary perturbation in the looks and personality of the adored, the aura that It broadcasts arises not merely from the singularity of an original, as Walter Benjamin supposed, but also from the fabulous success of its reproducibility in the imaginations of many others, charmed exponentially by the number of its copies. The one-of-kind item must become a type, a replicable role-icon of itself--from "a Charles Hart" or "a Nell Gwyn" to "a Mary Pickford" or "a Douglas Fairbanks"--in order to unleash the Pygmalion effect in the hearts and minds of the fans, making the idea of him or her theirs--as much or more than anything else they might call their own.” ― Joseph Roach, It
“Yes, Liebling.” He kissed the top of her head. “I am yours. Time to make sure you know you’re mine.” ― Marie Harte, The Kissing Game
“She sighed again, wondering how she’d be described as a character in one of her much-loved romance books.” ― Marie Harte, The Kissing Game
“It’s too much to expect that you would put up with all of this for me, not when you could have so much more with someone else. Things could be easier. I … I don’t know that things will ever be easy with me, Hannah. Not with Mary. Not now that she’s come back after all this time just to drag us both through hell.” ― Staci Hart, Love, Hannah: A Single Dad Romance
