Crazy Art Novels & Stories

The member of staff who tried to comfort me said sarcastically, “People need to have common sense. I’ve never seen a man who’s in such a rush to marry a mistress before divorcing his wife!” “That’s right! He has no shame!” “I have to admit, only such shameless women can marry rich men.”

Daisy sincerely said, "You've been wandering outside for too long." "I'm not crazy, okay? I'm very serious about my proposal to you," Axel emphasized, as if wanting to shout it out loud. How could Daisy insist that he was insane? How could Axel endure it? "Do you think I'll believe you?" Daisy said in a mocking tone. "What I'm saying is the truth. I want you to go on a date with me," Axel firmly asserted. "And for heaven's sake, I'm not crazy." "If you're not crazy, then there's an issue with your perception. Not to mention your eyes," Daisy confidently affirmed. "It's best for you to go to the hospital for an examination to avoid prolonging a condition that may be difficult to treat."

Jasmine stared at Fabiola closely but she still couldn’t figure out where she knew Fabiola from. “You’re a Fine art major?”Fabiola asked. Jasmine smiled and nodded.”Theater arts here,I’m already picturing myself being an actress someday.” Fabiola chuckled.”That sounds nice.I’m interested in the painting aspect.But don’t worry,I’d watch every movie and series you’ll be on in the future.” Jasmine laughed.”You’re such a sweet talker.I feel like we’re going to be good friends.”

"Congratulations, Miss Lowe! With a bid of $500,000, you've won the painting titled 'Distant Mountains' by the young artist, Elias Xane!" Applause filled the room as camera flashes focused on the elegant, cool-tempered woman seated in the front row. Jasmine Lowe rose to her feet and personally handed the painting to Lionel Shaw, who sat beside her. Lionel's eyes lit up with a bright smile. "Jasmine, thank you. I can't believe you actually bought it for me just because I casually mentioned I liked it!"

The fear of being ordinary when you'd been extraordinary. "Can I tell you something?" I asked. "Sure." "My sister, Cara. The one who died. She wasn't just dealing with schizophrenia. She was special too. She could see things. Feel things. The boundary between reality and imagination was thin for her. Sometimes she'd describe things that hadn't happened yet. Or things happening far away. I thought it was just her illness. But now I wonder if maybe she had a gift. Like yours. Like mine." "What happened to her?"

The banks stepped in to handle the liquidation. At that time, I was traveling abroad with Mom. We didn't know the language of that country, so we learned it slowly—starting with single words, then gradually becoming fluent enough to chat with ease. A few years later, we returned home and leisurely opened a small studio together. It was a handicraft workshop—work that didn't require much brainpower. The two of us could take our time, doing crafts, chatting, and enjoying life. There weren't many orders. We worked occasionally, whenever we felt like it.

The confident, untouchable star athlete who had charmed the entire campus… powerless against the fortress she had built around herself. Back in her room that night, Nora set up a new canvas. This painting would not be delicate or forgiving. This painting would not be beauty for the sake of admiration. It would be fire, anger, pain, and defiance poured into color and shape. Crimson streaks of rage bled across the canvas. Black swirls of hurt twisted into sharp shapes. Gold highlights burned like hope she refused to allow herself to feel.

Does he join some sort of cult or something? Archer is very strange, and he emits so much coldness and authority. He's not a man of many words either. Will I ever be able to escape this miserable life? I need a plan to escape. I need to think of something fast, but first, let me imagine multiple ways of killing Tommy. It brings me joy. Maybe I'm turning into Archer because I'm spending too much time with him, but I want to. I want to kill Tommy. I always daydream about it,, and it has become almost my drea,m, and I pretty much want to accomplish it by all means.

whispered Feli breathlessly. Feli let out a stifled squeal as Jerrald deliberately squeezed something that was already in his hands. "Learning something. The shape is perfect, Cia... It fits perfectly in my hand. I stand corrected on what I said earlier. I'm no longer almost crazy, but I'm already crazy. How can you be this dangerous?" Jerrald squeezed it again. This time Jerrald did it several times sensually until it brought another sigh of pleasure from Feli's lips.

He knew that she was a little bit crazy, but that did not bother him, because he knew that he was falling in love with her. Kristen fitted perfectly into his little abode. Adrian had always been afraid to tell people about his passions because he had the tiny fear that they would mock him. It was not unfounded as people could be very cruel. He had hidden his paintings so much so that it had become another life for him, separate from the one with business and law suits.