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“Dove found Flower waiting outside her apartment. Flower was staring at her Doc Martins and in a very slow-motion move; she looked up at Dove. “Jesus!” Flower’s eyes were wide and her mouth stayed open. Dove wanted to ask, “Bad Jesus or good Jesus?”, but Flower had already used almost half her allotted words on Dove’s predicament. She felt guilty asking for more.”
Debra Anastasia“How can a falling dove turn again into a flying dove once again? It really takes the eyes of someone who sees you for the beauty that you really are. And if there are no other eyes there to see you in that way, then you had better be those pair of eyes, for yourself, to see yourself with!”
C. JoyBell C.“That’s sweet. Nice of you.” Johnson put his hands in his pockets. Dove couldn’t help but wonder if he was massaging a sore bag of testicles. Dove looked around, and Johnson shuffled his feet. It seemed neither knew what to say, but she hoped neither wanted to part ways either. Johnson’s default was always medical. “How’s your infection?” Die. Die. Kill me. “It’s… cleared up… nicely.” Dove twisted her hand into her hair.”
Debra Anastasia, Fire in the Hole“Greet each man with peace, and leave each man with love. Ask yourself - One more enemy, or one more dove?”
Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem“Quotes are echos of voices transporting wisdom, humor, and love. Returning again to the human condition, fleeting once more as a dove.”
Ryan Lilly“Paul D did not answer because she didn't expect or want him to, but he did know what she meant. Listening to the doves in Alfred, Georgia, and having neither the right nor the permission to enjoy it because in that place mist, doves, sunlight, copper dirt, moon - everything belonged to the men who had the guns. Little men, some of them, big men too, each one of whom he could snap like a twig if he wanted to. Men who knew that their manhood lay in their guns and were not even embarrassed by the knowledge that without fox would laugh at them. And these "men" who made even vixen laugh could, if you let them, stop you from hearing doves or loving moonlight. So you protected yourself and loved small. Picked the tiniest stars out of the sky to own; lay down with head twisted in order to see the loved one over the rim of the trench before you slept. Stole shy glances at her between the trees at chain-up. Glass blades, salamanders, spiders, woodpeckers, beetles, a kingdom of ants. Anything bigger wouldn't do. A woman, a child, a brother - a big love like that would split you wide open in Alfred, Georgia. He knew exactly what she meant: to get to a place where you could love anything you chose - not to need permission for desire - well now, THAT was freedom.”
Toni Morrison, Beloved“In the garden of humanity there are tigers and lion, deer and doves. Deer and doves live carefully but with beauty and joy.”
Debasish Mridha“I had a dove and the sweet dove died; And I have thought it died of grieving: O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied, With a silken thread of my own hand's weaving.”
John Keats, The Complete Poems“have a mind so quiet, that you can hear doves whispering as they rest their wings in the rafters your silent sanctuary”
Kate Mullane Robertson