Tamera Alexander Quotes

She'd once thought God would never intentionally hurt her. But looking back over her life, she'd had cause to rethink that. She was certain nothing touched her life that didn't first filter through the loving hands of her heavenly father. But she was also convinced that God sometimes wounded, in order to bind up. And that He shattered, so that His hands could heal. This was part of His inheritance she'd overlooked before, but never would again.

His voice sounded like the rich taste of chocolate on your tongue.

But he'd learned long ago that a life lived without risks pretty much wasn't worth living. Life rewarded courage, even when that first step was taken neck-deep in fear.

It takes an awfully good man ... to beat no man at all. - Tillie

Take care, you fair lassies!" In full Scottish brogue, James pulled the sleigh up beside the porch stairs. "A wicked storm's a brewin'!" Molly's train of thought derailed as he climbed the icy stairs and slipped an arm around her none-too-tiny waist. She felt about as big as a barn these days. "You best hang on to me for all you're worth, Molly girl!" He winked. "With both hands, if you'd like." Giggling, Rachel raised a discreet brow as if to say, "Friendship?" "You be careful taking her home, James.

Life is full of choices, ma'am. Most we live once, then move on and forget. But others" - he narrowed his eyes - "we live a thousand times over and remember for the rest of our days. What's impostant is knowin' how to tell 'em apart. And then decidin' if you's willin' to pay the price. 'Cause choices ... they always come at a price.

Yet even in such moments she didn't doubt that God existed. She just sometimes wondered if He remembered that she did.

Settled on the carriage seat, Olivia drew in a deep breath, the first in what felt like five years. she knew it was wrong, what she was feeling. Because of widow of only a week shouldn't wish to dance a jig. But God help her, that's precisely what part of her wanted to do. Not on the grave of her recently deceased husband, of course-that would be considered rude. Just off to the side would suffice.

I ain't one to question the Lord's goodness, but sometimes it sure feels like he can give a body too much to bear, don't it?

Funny how often something she'd been so certain she needed turned out not to be a need at all, but a want
when the real 'need' was something else entirely. Something that could only be gained by giving, not by getting.

Forgiveness was a strange gift. One that had to be shared in order to be kept.

Then you'll need to teach him again, until he's learned. Just as I've done with you boys. That's what God does with us, after all. Puts us out into the world where the only real boundary is that of His love. His love either compels us, or restrains us. There is nothing stronger, Danny.

It's best for a man to be thought a fool instead of opening his mouth and removing all doubt.

Ridley nodded. 'She told me I couldn't ever tell General Harding or anybody else. Told me I wouldn't be safe.'
'Safe?' Uncle Bob stopped rocking and took the pipe from between his teeth. 'She started in talkin' 'bout you bein' safe, sir?'
Ridley nodded again, and that's when Uncle Bob grinned.
'Well, shoot ... you ain't lost her yet, sir. Not altogether, anyhow. Any female goes to talkin' 'bout you bein' safe ... hmmph. There still be somethin' left in her heart for ya.

It's not about you. It's not about me. This life that we live, the reason we're here. It's only when we see our lives through eternal eyes that we find true peace or wealth that will last. Real security can only be found in that which can never be taken from you ... in a relationship with God.

Fences can be prisons, in a way. They're necessary for those incapable of learning restraint, but they diminish life.

I learned long ago, Livvy, that a wife must love her husband's dreams as much as she loves him. Because the two are inseparable. If a wife can't embrace the desires of her husband's heart, he will never become the man he could have been, if only she had.

The best way to beat somebody is to show them who you are, and to succeed by doin' what they say you can't.

That was a mite tacky, ma'am ... even for you."
Elizabeth let her mouth fall open. "Even for me? What's that supposed to mean?"
"It just means that people with" --He stared pointedly-- "your upbringing aren't usually the most polite folks around." ...
"Listen Ranslett, if I've offended you I certainly didn't mean t--"
"Sure you did. You just meant to do it in a way that would make yourself look bad." He turned to look at her more fully, and his eyes narrowed, though not in malice.
"When you've got something to say that isn't kind, Miss Westbrook, there's no way to couch it so that it is. Or to hide from how it makes you look when you do. That's something us good ol' Southern boys learn real quick about women."
His accent thickened, comically so. "Your gender may say things with a smile, all soft and gentle-like, but some of you --- granted, not all --- have a dagger hidden in your skirts. Us country boys may not be as quick as some, ma'am, but it doesn't take us too long to figure out who those woman are." He winked at her. "We just check each other's backs for the bloodstains." He stood and reached behind him as though feeling for something. "Yep, feelin' a little sticky back there.

If there was one thing he knew a little about, it was pursuing a person. And though he wasn't about to give the woman beside him fair warning, Miss Ashford had better be on her guard. Because he planned on doing everything in his power to win not only her trust, but her heart as well.

Life is full of risks...that first step of faith was often taken neck-deep in fear.

Would you paint if you knew you were painting only for Me?

Reaching deep into the heart of the reader, Cindy Woodsmall pens a beautifully lyrical story in her debut novel When the Heart Cries.

I have pondered how much is provided for us by God's goodness. So many sources of enjoyment, and how thankful we should be. And even if afflictions come ... we should know that they are of the hand of God.' She sighed, the semblance of a smile gracing the edges of her mouth. 'We should not expect to have all the blessings of life and none of its trials. it would make this world too delightful a dwelling place, and I fear we would never care to leave it.' Her eyes slipped closed. 'As it is ... I have come to believe that it's only by taking some of those objects from us to which our hearts so closely cling that He endeavors ... in His kindness, to draw us from this world to one of greater happiness.

Emma looked up at him, expectant, and he shot her a quick wink. McKenna seemed intent on looking anywhere but at him, which only increased his patience. And his hopes. Finally, McKenna scraped together what looked like the remnants of a smile and met his gaze. And he knew her answer. "I'm certain Marshal Caradon's responsibilities keep him very busy, Emma." She addressed the child, yet aimed the words at him. "He's got an important job to do, and he has to get up very early in the morning to leave again. We don't want to interfere with his plans." In all his years of marshaling, he'd never been shot down so fast.

His horse was tethered by the barn, and he carried Emma to it and held her close enough so she could pluck the surprise from his saddlebag. "Is it mine?" she asked. "It is." She beamed and clutched the rag doll tight against her chest. "Her name's gonna be Clara." "Sounds like a good name to me." He shook the rag doll's limp arm. "Nice to meet you, Clara." That drew a giggle from Emma.