“Welcome baby its your turn to live theyre laying for you chicken pox whooping cough smallpox malaria TB heart disease cancer and so on unemployment hunger and so on train wrecks bus accidents plane crashes on-the-job injuries earthquakes floods droughts and so on heartbreak alcoholism and so on nightsticks prisons doors and so on theyre laying for you the atom bomb and so on welcome baby its your turn to live theyre laying for you socialism communism and so on.”
— Naz?m Hikmet —
“You own me," he said, water sputtering against his lips as his head bobbed at the surface. "You have lock and key, deed to the house, the welcome mat, all that shit. It's all yours, baby."
"I'll have to take good care of my property, then."
"And I'll have to behave on and off the premises. I may be a little rowdy, but ... I'll use my manners."
I sent him a small splash. "No swearing, invading personal space, or forgetting your pleases and thank-yous."
A glimmer twinkled in his irises, and for a moment, it looked as if he was the one about to drown. "Damn straight," he pulled me against him abruptly, nose to nose. "Now please get over here and fucking kiss me.”
— Rachael Wade
“She says I shall now have one mouth the more to fill and two feet the more to shoe, more disturbed nights, more laborious days, and less leisure or visiting, reading, music, and drawing.
Well! This is one side of the story, to be sure, but I look at the other. Here is a sweet, fragrant mouth to kiss; here are two more feet to make music with their pattering about my nursery. Here is a soul to train for God; and the body in which it dwells is worth all it will cost, since it is the abode of a kingly tenant. I may see less of friends, but I have gained one dearer than them all, to whom, while I minister in Christ's name, I make a willing sacrifice of what little leisure for my own recreation my other darlings had left me. Yes, my precious baby, you are welcome to your mother's heart, welcome to her time, her strength, her health, her tenderest cares, to her lifelong prayers! Oh, how rich I am, how truly, how wondrously blest!”
— Elizabeth Payson Prentiss
“So, come on," he said softly, taunting me. "What's the plan here, Ev? How were you going to convince me?"
"Oh. Well, I was um ... I was going to seduce you, I guess. And see what happened. Yeah ... "
"How? By complaining about me buying you stuff?"
"No. That was just an added bonus. You're welcome."
He licked his lips, but I saw the smile. "Right. Come on then, show me your moves."
"My moves?"
"Your seduction techniques. Come on, time's a-wasting." I hesitated and he clicked his tongue, impatient. "I'm only wearing a towel, baby. How hard can this be?”
— Kylie Scott
“The Vicar and Miss Marcy had managed to by-pass the suffering that comes to most people - he by his religion, she by her kindness to others. And it came to me that if one does that, one is liable to miss too much along with the suffering - perhaps, in a way, life itself. Is that why Miss Marcy seems so young for her age - why the Vicar, in spite of all his cleverness, has that look of an elderly baby? I said aloud: 'I don't want to miss *anything.*' And then misery came rushing back like a river that has been dammed up. I tried to open my heart to it, to welcome it as a part of my life's experience, and at first that made it easier to bear. Then it got worse than ever before - it was physical as well as mental, my heart and ribs and shoulders and chest, even my arms, ached.”
— Dodie Smith
“Once upon a time, I believe it was a Tuesday when I caught your eye, we got onto something, I hold on to the night. You looked me in the eye and told me you loved me. Were you just kidding, cuz it seems to me, this thing is breaking down we almost never speak. I don't feel welcome anymore. Baby what happened please tell me cuz one second is perfect now you're halfway out the door.
And I stood at the phone, you still haven't called. And you feel so below you, can't feel nothing at all. And I flashback to when he said forever & always.”
— Taylor Swift
“Each time somebody working for the Maison has a baby, the atelier creates miniature blouses-blanches, exactly like the ones we wear, with the child's name embroidered across the front. That is our welcome-to-this-world gift.”
— Martin Margiela
“Neither were you [born yesterday], unless of course I am wrong, in which case welcome to the world, little baby, and congratulations on learning to read so early in life.”
— Lemony Snicket
“Sandwiches, and drink mint juleps with the best of them." "If you want to dress in drag and do the job for me, you are more than welcome to," I'd replied in a sweet, syrupy tone. "You're just jealous that I would rock a garden dress way better than you ever could," he'd countered. "I'm frightened that you even know what a garden dress is." "Oh, baby," Finn had crooned. "I know all about the finer things in life-and the ladies who enjoy them. I happen to be one of those finer things, you know." "I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.”
— Jennifer Estep
“We almost never speak
I don't feel welcome anymore
baby what happened, please tell me?”
— Taylor Swift
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