Chapel And Ward Quotes

China. She will return, standing tall and straight, the milk burned out of her. She will look down on the circle of light we have made in the Pit and she will know that I have kept watch, that I have fought. China will bark and call me sister. In the star-suffocated sky, there is a great waiting silence.
She will know that I am a mother. ~ Jesmyn Ward

Give it a few years and you'll see. The difference between us is wire-thin and time is the enemy. His wife died and he blamed himself, he always has, no matter what the papers say. I suffered heartache that was caused by my own hand as well. The aftermath wasn't as gruesome, but the soul can't tell. It just knows she's gone and it's my fault. My heart dies within me, day-by-day, beat-by-beat. I hide it with a smile and wiseass comments, but my pain and suffering is mine and nothing will free me from it. I'm in a cage and there is no key. Sean's been imprisoned for too long. Nothing will set him free. No - not even you. ~ H.M. Ward

Make men large and strong and tyranny will bankrupt itself in making shackles for them. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

When my father died and was buried in a chapel overlooking Portsmouth - the same chapel in which General Eisenhower had prayed for success the night before D-Day in 1944 - I gave the address from the pulpit and selected as my text a verse from the epistle of Saul of Tarsus, later to be claimed as "Saint Paul," to the Philippians (chapter 4, verse 8): Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report: if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. I chose this because of its haunting and elusive character, which will be with me at the last hour, and for its essentially secular injunction, and because it shone out from the wasteland of rant and complaint and nonsense and bullying which surrounds it. ~ Christopher Hitchens

Swear your fealty unto me, this night and forever more, placing none upon the earth above me and mine." Xcor ~ J.R. Ward

I think things like food, the food of the south is sort of the common tie that binds us all, Black and White, the sense memories. It's a very particular part of the country. ~ Sela Ward

walked in and sat down in booth number ~ Penelope Ward

Lessers were fewer and farther between now than ever, and there had been sightings, by others in the Brotherhood, of a very different kind of foe. ~ J.R. Ward

Do not think of him with Blay. Do not think of him with Blay. Do not think of him -
"I didn't know you were a sherry man."
"Huh?" Qhuinn glanced down at what he'd poured himself. Fuck. In the midst of the self-lecture, he'd picked up the wrong bottle. "Oh, you know… I'm good with it."
To prove the point, he tossed back the hooch - and nearly choked as the sweetness hit his throat.
He served himself another only so he didn't look like the kind of idiot who wouldn't know what he was dishing out into his own glass.
Okay, gag. The second was worse than the first.
From out of the corner of his eye, he watched Saxton settle in at the table, the brass lamp in front of him casting the most perfect glow over his face. Shiiiiiit, he looked like something out of a Ralph Lauren ad, with his buff-colored tweed jacket and his pointed pocket square and that button-down/sweater vest combo keeping his fucking liver cozy.
Meanwhile, Qhuinn was sporting hospital scrubs, bare feet. And sherry. ~ J.R. Ward

The book is closed, the year is done, the pages full of tasks begun. A little joy, a little care, along with dreams, are written there. This new day brings another year, Renewing hope, dispelling fear. And we may find before the end, a deep content, another friend. ~ Arch Ward

The faint aroma of gum and calico that hangs about a library is as the fragrance of incense to me. I think the most beautiful sight is the gilt-edged backs of a row of books on a shelf. The alley between two well-stocked shelves in a hall fills me with the same delight as passing through a silent avenue of trees. The colour of a binding-cloth and its smooth texture gives me the same pleasure as touching a flower on its stalk. A good library hall has an atmosphere which elates. I have seen one or two University Libraries that have the same atmosphere as a chapel, with large windows, great trees outside, and glass doors sliding on noiseless hinges. ~ R.K. Narayan

Hope is sweet-minded and sweet-eyed. It draws pictures; it weaves fancies; it fills the future with delight. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

Every single ancient wisdom and religion will tell you the same thing - don't live entirely for yourself, live for other people. Don't get stuck inside your own ego, because it will become a prison in no time flat. ~ Barbara Ward, Baroness Jackson Of Lodsworth

You love it right?" Lassiter asked, holding his Bible high. "I mean, you told me to go on the internet. I did. I even printed out my diploma or whatever the hell it's called." Opening the cover of the King James version, he took out a piece of paper and waved it around. "See? Nice and legal-like" Beth leaned in "Wow". "I know right? Just like Harvard" "Impressive" "I'm totally framing that shit, wha-what. ~ J.R. Ward

-BDB on the board-
Knitter's Anonimous
May 8, 2006
Rhage (in his bedroom posting in V's room on the board)
Hi, my name is V.
("Hi, V")
I've been knitting for 125 years now.
(*gasping noises*)
It's begun to impact my personal relationships: my brothers think I'm a nancy. It's begun to affect my health: I'm getting a callus on my forefinger and I find bits of yarn in all my pockets and I'm starting to smell like wool. I can't concentrate at work: I keep picturing all these lessers in Irish sweaters and thick socks.
(*sounds of sympathy*)
I've come seeking a community of people who, like me, are trying not to knit.
Can you help me?
(*We're with you*)
Thank you (*takes out hand-knitted hankie in pink*)
(*sniffles*)
("We embrace you, V")

Vishous (in the pit): Oh hell no...you did not just put that up. And nice spelling in the title. Man...you just have to roll up on me, don't you. I got four words for you, my brother.

Rhage: Four words? Okay...lemme see... Rhage, you're so sexy.
hmmm....
Rhage, you're SO smart. No wait! Rhage, you're SO right! That's it, isn't it...g'head. You can tell me.

Vishous: First one starts with a "P"
Use your head for the other three.
Bastard.

Rhage: P? Hmm... Please pass the yarn

Vishous: Payback is a bitch!

Rhage: Ohhhhhhhhhhhh
I'm so scuuuuuurred.
Can you whip me up a blanket to h ~ J.R. Ward

Josh's father felt Josh should bond with his fellow injured patients in the ward. This was something I really dissuaded Josh from doing. I didn't want him to hear the hardships, battles, and frustrations that others were going through. I also didn't want Josh to take on their fears and frustrations. We were always pleasant and polite to everyone else in the ward, but my only concern was Josh, and it was enough for us to focus just on his issues. I found the whole Acute Spinal Ward experience extremely negative and distressingly sad with no great healing or recovery objective. The message from the medical team was always, without fail, acceptance of the prognosis. This was totally the opposite message of what we presented and instilled into Josh. We slowly gained evidence that our non-traditional approach was working. ~ Josh Wood

When you have a family, even though you might move a lot, you collect all of these things. It's the detritus of your family and they become the symbols of your family life, and your unit out in the world. In that moment I wanted to allude to the fact that the way my parents' relationship was falling apart was impacting me and my brother, my parents, but also our symbols. ~ Jesmyn Ward

Look. I don't want to push you into anything, but do you maybe want to - " "Call Magnus? Look, that's a dead end, I know you're trying to be helpful, but - "
" - kiss me?" Jace finished.
Alec looked as if he were about to fall off his chair. "WHAT? What? What?"
"Once what would do." Jace did his best to look as if this were the sort of
suggestion one made all the time. "I think it might help."
Alec looked at him with something like horror. "You don't mean that."
"Why wouldn't I mean it?"
"Because you're the straightest person I know. Possibly the straightest
person in the universe."
"Exactly," Jace said, and leaned forward, and kissed Alec on the mouth.
The kiss lasted approximately four seconds before Alec pulled forcefully
away, throwing his hands up as if to ward Jace off from coming at him again.
He looked as if he were about to throw up. "By the Angel," he said. "Don't
ever do that again."
"Oh yeah?" Jace grinned, and almost meant it. "That bad?"
"Like kissing my brother," said Alec, with a look of horror in his eyes.
"I thought you might feel that way." Jace crossed his arms over his chest.
"Also, I'm hoping we can just gloss over all the irony in what you just said."
"We can gloss over whatever you want to," Alec said fervently. "Just don't kiss me again. ~ Cassandra Clare

I don't like the way recording to digital sounds. Most of the time, when I'm recording to two-inch tape, I still have a romantic vision of how songs sounded coming out of the radio when I was younger, and how they sounded coming out of my little four-track cassette player. ~ M. Ward

His tone was odd, a mixture of restraint and subtle conviction. He did not make light of the question, nor did he attempt to couch his words in chivalrous courtesy. "He wants you, Marian."

She sighed. "So he says, when it is the lands he wants - "

"No." He cut her off. "DeLacey wants you."

She grimaced. "Because of what I have - "

"Because of what you are." She scowled at him.

"What am I, then? Sir Hugh FitzWalter's daughter, ward to King Richard - "

"Marian." His face was stripped free of the mask. What she saw now was blazing, naked emotion.

"What you are is a woman he wants very badly in bed. And I think he would do anything to make sure he gets you there." Her shocked denial was instantaneous. "Oh no - "

"Oh yes." She stared at him, undone by his conviction. This was nothing she had anticipated, this brutal, male truth. "I - don't understand ..." And she didn't, not really, not fully. She was only beginning to, and it frightened her very badly.

His smile was wintry. "I am not the one to explain in elaborate detail why a man, any man, might feel as deLacey does."

Why not?"

Robin sighed. "Helen of Troy."

It baffled her utterly. "What?"

"Helen of Troy. Have you no knowledge of the classics?"

"Of course I do; I was told all the stories. Helen was married to Menelaus of Sparta, until Paris of Troy cast his eyes ~ Jennifer Roberson

Supporting segregation need not be racist. One can believe in segregation and believe in equality of the races. ~ Ward Connerly

Wrath walked over to the closet and looked throught the clothes. He took out a black long-sleeved shirt, a pair of leather pants, and
jeez, what was this? Oh, not fucking likely. He was not going to fight in BVDs. He'd go commando before he got cought dead inthose things. ~ J.R. Ward

My own task these past twenty years or so of living by words has been to try to find or make a language to describe the subtleties, the incalculables, the pleasures and meanings - impossible to categorize - at the heart of things My friend Chip Ward speaks of "the tyranny of the quantifiable," of the way what can be measured almost always takes precedence over what cannot. ~ Rebecca Solnit

Body parts really don't like to be cut, stabbed or hacked into sections, and they express their anger by leaking all over the fuck. Jesus, we're, like, seventy percent water or something? And you learn that's so fucking true when you go to a fresh scene. Pools of it. Drips of it. Speckles of it. Then you got the stained clothes, rugs, bedsheets, walls, flooring - or if it's outside, the ground cover, the concrete, the asphalt. And then there's the smell. Blood, sweat, urine, other shit. That juicy bouquet will get in your sinuses and stay there for hours afterward." He shook his head again. "The older cases . . . the smell is worse than the mess. Water deaths, with the bloating, are just ugly - and if that gas that's built up gets out? The stench will knock you on your ass. And I don't know, I wasn't too crazy for the burn deaths either. I mean, you'd think we'd realize we're not different than any other mammal - cooked meat is cooked meat, period. But I've never seen a grown man puke up his coffee and donuts over a medium rare T-bone. ~ J.R. Ward

I calculate the breadth of Steven's shoulders, now wider than mine;
watch him tear open the Blokus game he likes to play with me after school;
count the hours between now and Dad coming home to take over
and I am only a little afraid
of the night. ~ Stasia Ward Kehoe

Jesmyn Ward is an alchemist. She transmutes pain and loss into gold. Men We Reaped illustrates hardships but thankfully, vitally, it's just as clear about the humor, the intelligence, the tenderness, the brilliance of the folks in DeLisle, Mississippi. A community that's usually wiped off the literary map can't be erased when it's in a book this good. ~ Victor LaValle

Phury nodded. And if she lives with us, we get to keep the cat. ~ J.R. Ward

And Vishous ... V was the worst of them. He stood by the door, staring into space. Icy before, he was glacial now, a sinkhole in the room.
-Phury's thoughts ~ J.R. Ward

Only Marxists," Dr. Iggy concluded, opening the door to usher Joe into the chapel room, "still
believe in an objective history. Marxists and a few disciples of Ayn Rand. ~ Robert Shea

I pray on the principle that wine knocks the cork out of a bottle. There is an inward fermentation, and there must be a vent. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

You have what I call a "male brow." Which is a frown brought on when you're thinking about your male and you either want to boot him in the ass or wrap your arms around him and hold him 'til he can't breathe. ~ J.R. Ward

Success surely comes with conscience in the long run, other things being equal. Capacity and fidelity are commercially profitable qualities. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

Your name. My back. I can't fucking wait."

Jane whistled under her breath. "Do I get to do it "

He barked a laugh. "No "

"Come on. I'm a surgeon I'm good with knives."

"My brothers will do it - well actually I guess you could do a letter 
too. Mmm that gets me hard." He kissed her. "Man you are so my 
kind of girl."

"Do I have to get cut "

"Hell no. It's done on the males so everyone knows who we belong 
to."

"Belong "

"Yup. I'll be yours to command. Lord over. Do what you want with. 
Think you can handle it "

V and Jane - Lover Unbound ~ J.R. Ward

The blossom cannot tell what becomes of its odor, and no person can tell what becomes of his or her influence and example. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

While Mum was a busy working mother, helping my father in his constituency duties and beyond, Lara became my surrogate mum. She fed me almost every supper I ate--from when I was a baby up to about five years old. She changed my nappies, she taught me to speak, then to walk (which, with so much attention from her, of course happened ridiculously early). She taught me how to get dressed and to brush my teeth.
In essence, she got me to do all the things that either she had been too scared to do herself or that just simply intrigued her, such as eating raw bacon or riding a tricycle down a steep hill with no brakes.
I was the best rag doll of a baby brother that she could have ever dreamt of.
It is why we have always been so close. To her, I am still her little baby brother. And I love her for that. But--and this is the big but--growing up with Lara, there was never a moment's peace. Even from day one, as a newborn babe in the hospital's maternity ward, I was paraded around, shown off to anyone and everyone--I was my sister's new "toy." And it never stopped.
It makes me smile now, but I am sure it is why in later life I craved the peace and solitude that mountains and the sea bring. I didn't want to perform for anyone, I just wanted space to grow and find myself among all the madness.
It took a while to understand where this love of the wild came from, but in truth it probably developed from the intimacy found with my father on the shores of Northern Ire ~ Bear Grylls