Quotes in the category multicultural.
We're all the same in the dark.
There wasn't a shed of doubt in her mind that he'd fulfill her every sexual fantasy and them some.But was a brief, hot affair worth losing his friendship?
The scent of him was subtle, beautifully fresh, and she couldn’t think clearly. No man had ever brought out these intense feelings in her. Chris Augustine was dangerous and she could get lost in his arms.
to split the very sea into ours and theirs." Border at the BeachAnd More White Sheets
Where cross-cultural engagement is concerned, token adjustments are no longer an option. To advance a credible message of God’s love for all people in an increasingly diverse society, we must move ourselves entirely as well as the churches we lead. We must adjust to a new reality.
Although people all over the world pray in different ways, it is to each heart the most precious light.
I know what it’s like to be different. I’m a Native American in a white world.
Boy oh boy, this man is trouble. He was slowly tearing down the wall she’d built around her heart, brick by brick. Could any man be this perfect? He must have some faults. Maybe he is a chauvinist pig…no, doesn’t seem like it. He is kind to animals and children, he is a fireman, he looks like sex on a stick. What could be wrong with him? Maybe he snores. Oh, wouldn’t I like to find out?
The hand at her back stroked up and down. Never straying too far south, but igniting a fire inside her that she wanted this fireman to stoke instead of extinguish
She always thought of Aaron as special not less. He was God’s gift to her, and she wouldn’t trade him for the world.
She'd been trained as a child no to trust anyone, but he'd just saved her life, and she was freezing. He could be a yeti for all she cared.
Oh my God, you're huge." She struggled to get her hands to the ends of the long sleeves. The garment hung to her knees. She glanced up to see his lips pressed together, like he was choking on a laugh. The corners of his eyes wee crinkled and amusement flickered in his heated gaze.
I want to see a flowering of Arab and Jewish cultures in a country without racism or anti-Semitism, without rich or poor or spat-upon: everyone beneath the vine and fig tree living in peace and unafraid. A homeland for each and every one of us between the mountains and the sea. A multilingual, multireligious, many-colored and -peopled land where the orange tree blooms for all. I will not surrender this vision for any lesser compromise.
Fire and earth are the most sacred of the natural elements. One must cross their path with caution and respect.
Beneath the armor of skin/and/bone/and/mindmost of our colors are amazingly the same.
I stole a bit of a chopped vegetable and was about to put it in my mouth when Jae’s long fingers closed over my wrist. “What? You can’t eat this raw?”“It’s bitter melon. You won’t like it.” He went into the fridge and came out with something that looked halfway familiar. “Here, leftover bao. There’s char siu inside.”“The red pork stuff? Yeah, I like that. I thought it was Chinese.” “It is. We also eat hamburgers and spaghetti.
Is it really true that the only good thing a Blackman can offer in a relationship with a white woman is thunderous sex?Of course, sex plays a vital healing role in every loving relationship. That is a fact of life. But, as we discover in the story of Glasgow Kiss, sex is not always the only thing that occupies a Blackman’s mind. On the contrary, when a man is as passionate, dedicated, committed and determined as Mamadu is to fight and hold onto his true love, irrespective of the numerous challenges he faces, he is able show that it is far more important to pay attention to his heartbeat than the growing erection in his trousers!
As a first-generation Ethiopian immigrant, Sheba had lived in Charleston since she turned five years of age. She was Ethiopian by birth, but American by preference. She had worked hard, studied and sacrificed plenty to get where she was today, no easy feat for someone who had just celebrated her twenty-sixth birthday. According to her friends, Sheba was a beauty, though when she looked in the mirror, she saw inevitable flaws; her cheekbones were too pronounced, her mouth a little too wide, her nose with that perturbing slant to it. Still, she accepted compliments gratefully, especially from her roommate, Janelle. Janelle was the true beauty, Sheba thought, with dark ebony skin so smooth that she could be a walking ad for Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate.
David Hudson was rising in the political field. As a senator from New York, he had it all – good looks, a well-known family name and the finances to go with it, but for David, it was never enough. He graduated from an Ivy League school at the top of his class, and his parents were political royalty in America so he grew up in the spotlight with all of the luxuries one could imagine.
*****WARNING: ADULT CONTENT INTENDED FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE******“Her pussy juices welled into the cunt as Larry continued to pound it hard and fast, his dick making a sloshing sound in the pussy. As he fucked her like a whore, he felt his cock starting to explode.“I’m coming, I'm coming!
They, they, they. That was the problem with people like Joyce. They talked about the richness of their multicultural heritage and it sounded real good, until you noticed that they avoided black people. It wasn't a matter of conscious choice, necessarily, just a matter of gravitational pull, the way integration always worked, a one-way street. The minority assimilated into the dominant culture, not the other way around. Only white culture could be neutral and objective. Only white culture could be nonracial, willing to adopt the occasional exotic into its ranks. Only white culture had individuals. And we, the half-breeds and the college-degreed, take a survey of the situation and think to ourselves, Why should we get lumped in with the losers if we don't want to? We become only so grateful to lose ourselves in the crowd, America's happy, faceless marketplace; and we're never so outraged as when a cabbie drives past us or the woman in the elevator clutches her purse, not so much because we're bothered by the fact that such indignities are what less fortunate coloreds have to put up with every single day of their lives-- although that's what we tell ourselves-- but because we're wearing a Brooks Brothers suit and speak impeccable English and yet have somehow been mistaken for an ordinary nigger.Don't know who I am? I'm an individual!
Don't think about that. Just believe I'll be okay.
A book written within, contains ideas and thoughts from all over, where each page explains itself.
Looking at my reflection tonight, I see a new girl staring back at me. She has big hair and big eyes and a big heart. Not only is she the perfect size and pretty...she is smart. -Mackenzie
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