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1 " [Lou]: “I’m not talking about the angioplasty. I mean the stuff you’re pumping into me. What is it? Something serious?”[Nurse]: “Oh. This is nothing. You’re not going under the knife today, so you don’t get the good shit. This is a blood-thinning agent. Also, it’ll mellow you out. Got to keep the mellows going.”[Lou]: “It’ll put me to sleep?”[Nurse]: “Faster than a marathon of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman. "
― Joe Hill , NOS4A2
2 " When you being to awaken to your gifts, a first it can be alarming for the soul to reveal its truth. After some consideration and healthy boundaries the soul mellows and the action and revelation begins. Hold onto your seat, you are in for a wonderful wild ride. "
3 " But some mistakes can never be righted and the guilt eats away at the soul. Of all the emotions we have, I have learnt that guilt is the most corrosive. Anger passes quickly, and hatred mellows with age and learning, but guilt endures. "
4 " Nick bumps my shoulder with his, playfully. He kicks up some extra snow on purpose, whishing it onto my knees.“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I tell him.“Really?”“Especially with that doggy breath.”He scoops up some snow, makes it into a ball, bounces his hand up and down. “Take that back.”I giggle. “Nope.”I bend down to grab some snow and topple headfirst. The cold of it bites into my cheeks. I try to push myself up, but I can’t. I’m all awkward and clumsy with the snowshoes on.Nick laughs.I struggle some more.He grabs me under my arms and hauls me up. Smiling, he sticks out his tongue, and with tiny little movements starts licking the snow off my cheeks. It should be disgusting. It’s not. It’s all warm, and good feeling, and amazing. I close my eyes and let him.“You smell good,” he whispers.“I haven’t showered.”“Doesn’t matter, you smell good.”His voice, sensual and warm, mellows me.Our lips touch and part, touch again. I breathe him in. He moves his face away a little and studies me. I smile. I can’t help it.“I like you,” I say. “A lot. Even with the whole werewolf thing.”He smiles back. “I like you too.”“A lot?”“Mm-hmm,” he says, leaning in for another kiss. “A wicked lot. "
― Carrie Jones , Need (Need, #1)
5 " A tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with constant use. "
― Washington Irving , Rip Van Winkle
