Dad S Words Quotes

You have to be a responsible adult and support yourself because no one else is going to do it for you. ~ Susane Colasanti

But all I really learned is that money is powerful enough to bend the rules. Rhiannon:0, Dad:1. ~ Susane Colasanti

Behind these practical studies lay powerful, intertwined, and potentially contradictory beliefs: that language provides a key to the rational, scientific understanding of the world and that language is more than human speech, that it claims a divine origin and is the means by which God created the cosmos and Adam named the beasts.

As we will see, both ideas strongly influenced the Inklings, whose leading members wrote many words about the meaning of words. For Owen Barfield, language is the fossil record of the history and evolution of human consciousness; for C. S. Lewis, it is a mundane tool that "exists to communicate whatever it can communicate" but also, as in That Hideous Strength, an essential part of our metaphysical makeup for good or ill; for Charles Williams, language is power, a field of force for the magician, a vehicle of prayer for the believing Christian; for Tolkien, language is a fallen human instrument and a precious divine gift ("O felix peccatum Babel!" he exclaimed in his essay "English and Welsh"), a supreme art, and, as "Word", a name for God. ~ Philip Zaleski

To forgive the incessant provocations of daily life - to keep on forgiving the bossy mother-in-law, the bullying husband, the nagging wife, the selfish daughter, the deceitful son - how can we do it? Only, I think, by remembering where we stand, by meaning our words when we say in our prayers each night, "Forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." We are offered forgiveness on no other terms. To refuse it is to refuse God's mercy for ourselves. There is no hint of exceptions and God means what he says. ~ C.S. Lewis

Who am I?" she snaps. "I am America, Israel, England! What am I doing?" She waits another long moment, her eyes shining. "I'm shutting up and listening." She draws the last word out so it hisses through the air. "I am the presidents, the kings, the prime ministers, the highs and the mighties - L-I-S-T-E-N!" She spells the word in the air. "The woman who made the baklava has something to say to you! Voilà! You see? Now what am I doing?" She picks up an imaginary plate, lifts something from it, and takes an invisible bite. Then she closes her eyes and says, "Mmm... That is such delicious Arabic-Jordanian-Lebanese-Palestinian baklawa. Thank you so much for sharing it with us! Please will you come to our home now and have some of our food?" She puts down the plate and brushes imaginary crumbs from her fingers. "So now what did I just do?
"You ate some baklawa?"
She curls her hand as if making a point so essential, it can be held only in the tips of the fingers. "I looked, I tasted, I spoke kindly and truthfully. I invited. You know what else? I keep doing it. I don't stop if it doesn't work on the first or the second or the third try. And like that!" She snaps the apron from the chair into the air, leaving a poof of flour like a wish. "There is your peace. ~ Diana Abu-Jaber

The Mackenzie had never met folk so poor in story and song and legends, and it moved him to a pity that pricked at his eyes. Without that tapestry of colour and words and ritual, what was life but eating and mating, sleeping and moving your bowels? All of them good and necessary, but not enough; and they themselves needed that framework too, to give them meaning. ~ S.M. Stirling

After Kellan begged me for a final kiss, Griffin murmured, "Your wedding day is Thanksgiving. That's convenient." He pointed at Kellan. "You probably won't forget your anniversary." He looked over at Anna. "We shoulda done that. I already forgot ours."
Anna smirked at Griffin while Kellan's lip twitched. "Uh, it won't always be on Thanksgiving, Griff."
He looked horribly confused. "Huh? Yeah, it will."
"Kellan bit his lip. I could tell he was trying really hard not to laugh, since laughing hurt. "Thanksgiving isn't on the same day every year. It moves around."
Griffin glared at Kellan. "Don't even try fucking with me, Kell." He tapped his finger to his head. "I'm on to you."
I heard Matt and Evan snigger with Justin and Denny. My dad stared at the ceiling as he shook his head. I couldn't contain my giggle; poor Kellan had to take long, slow exhales so he didn't laugh with everyone else. "Griff, I'm not ... ~ S.C. Stephens

My dad's name is Vernon and my mom liked the initials, V. V. My sisters and I got named Victoria, Valerie and Vincent so we'd be V. V.'s, too. But, then when you start getting pets' names that start with a 'v,' it's a little embarrassing. ~ Vince Vaughn

This is my skin. It keeps out the rain and words I'd rather not hear like "I'm tired" or "I'm fine" or "We need to talk."
This is my skin and it's thick. This is not your skin. Yet you are still under it. ~ Iain S. Thomas

Life is enduring endeavour ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

I read with keen interest the words of a bumper sticker readily visible on the highly polished chrome bumper of a car which was weaving in and out of the traffic stream. The words were these: "Honk if you love Jesus." No one honked. Perhaps each was disturbed by the thoughtless and rude actions of the offending driver. Then, again, would honking be an appropriate manner in which to show one's love for the Son of God, the Savior of the world, the Redeemer of all mankind? Such was not the pattern provided by Jesus of Nazareth. ~ Thomas S. Monson

Some women get erased a little at a time, some all at once. Some reappear. Every woman who appears wrestles with the forces that would have her disappear. She struggles with the forces that would tell her story for her, or write her out of the story, the genealogy, the rights of man, the rule of law. The ability to tell your own story, in words or images, is already a victory, already a revolt. ~ Rebecca Solnit

What kind of self-respecting man doesn't read? That's like saying he doesn't feel the need to eat or bathe either. Reading is nurturing of the mind ... a cleansing of the soul. It opens our eyes to unseen beauty, and our hearts to the untouched pieces of ourselves that we've hidden away from the world. A man without words is a man who has no real awareness of anything or anyone outside of himself. ~ S.L. Jennings

You're not the type of man to fuck," she countered.
His brows shot up. "Oh really? I'm too nice of a guy?"
"Something like that."
"I'm a man, Megan. We all have needs. Isn't fucking one of them?"
Her body trembled slightly at his words. She licked her lips before replying, "S-Stop saying that word-it isn't you."
"So fucking isn't me? Don't tell me you think I'm totally asexual – that you can't imagine me fucking a woman…fucking you." He eased in closer to her. "We both know for a fact that you wanted nothing more than to fuck me the night of Noah's baptism. Given the chance right now, you'd let me strip off your scrubs and fuck you up against the medicine cabinet. ~ Katie Ashley

like planks but narrow. Eyebrows unplucked. In the hours he's spent here fewer than a dozen words have passed between them. She has a Mediterranean look but speaks ~ A.S.A Harrison

I was the Fool and the Fool was me. He was the Catalyst and so was I. We were two halves of a whole, sundered and come together again. For an instant I knew him in his entirety, complete and magical, and then he was pulling apart from me, laughing, a bubble inside me, separate and unknowable, yet joined to me. "You do love me !" I was incredulous. He had never truly believed it before. "Before, it was words. I always feared it war born of pity. But you are truly my friend. This is knowing. This is feeling what you feel for me. So this is the Skill". For a moment he reveled in simple recognition. ~ Robin Hobb

How am I supposed to be this honest? I know you're not a Magic 8 Ball. You're just some lady that wrote a book. I fall asleep with that book in my arms because words protect hearts and I've got this ache in my chest that won't go away. I read Raging Flower and now I dream of raised fists and solidarity marches led by matriarchs fueled by café con leche where I can march alongside cigar-smoking doñas and Black Power dykes and all the world's weirdos and no one is left out. And no one is living a lie. ~ Gabby Rivera

Holy places are dark places. It is life and strength, not knowledge and words, that we get in them. Holy wisdom is not clear and thin like water, but thick and dark like blood. ~ C.S. Lewis

The very words repentance, regeneration, the New Man, suggest something very different. Some tendencies in each natural man may have to be simply rejected. ~ C.S. Lewis

I always play with words,now i'm out of words i don't know how to describe you because you're my Father.. But surely i can say i love you ~ Shujoy Chowdhury

The grief hits her hard one day. the way it can't be controlled. The way that yesterday can be good and so can the day before, and so can the week and fortnight before that, but then today comes and she's back to zero. How she can't type words into her computer or even press the in-box for her mail. The effort it takes to walk. How words can't form in her mouth and how her blood feels paralyzed. ~ Melina Marchetta

We live by the power of God. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

As I went to stand up, I felt a tiny point of pressure on my back.
"Don't move," Kasey whispered.
I stayed bent over.
"Drop the knife," she said.
"Excuse me, I'm using it," I said.
She swallowed hard. "For what?"
"Mom and Dad. You."
The pressure on my back increased. "Drop it, Alexis."
Drop it? Like I was a bad dog running around with a sock in my mouth.
"How long will this take?" I asked, setting the knife on the floor. "I'm in the middle of something."
Get in the bathroom," she said.
The faster I indulged her, the faster it would be over with. So I walked into the bathroom. She followed, kicking the knife toward the end of the hallway and flipping on the bathroom light.
"What's this all about, Kasey?" I asked, turning around. At the sight of my face, she gasped, and the point of the fireplace poker she was holding wavered in her hands. I realized a second too late that I'd missed my chance to grab it and smash it into the side of her head.
"What's happening to you?" she whispered.
I glanced in the mirror. The darkness had begun to spread from my mouth and eyes. It leached out in inky puddles with thin tendrils of black snaking out in delicate feathery patterns.
What's happening to me? What was she talking about?
"So you have a pointy stick," I said. "Big deal. get out of my way."

"What are you going to do?" I sneered.

"Poke me?"
'I'll hit you, Lexi." Her face was s ~ Katie Alender

Aaron's body tensed, his heart raced and he could taste fear on his tongue. Steeling himself the best he could, he forced out the words, "So what are you going to do?"

Kyran pulled in a breath, his head lowered. After a moment's contemplation, he looked up at Aaron.

"What I have to," he replied. His eyes were a poison green as he stared at him. "I have to kill you. ~ S.F. Mazhar

Hush!' said the Cabby. They all listened.

In the darkness something was happening at last. A voice had begun to sing. It was very far away and Digory found it hard to decide from what direction it was coming. Sometimes it seemed to come from all directions at once. Sometimes he almost thought it was coming out of the earth beneath them. Its lower notes were deep enough to be the voice of the earth herself. There were no words. There was hardly even a tune. But it was, beyond comparison, the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. It was so beautiful he could hardly bear it…

'Gawd!' said the Cabby. 'Ain't it lovely?'

Then two wonders happened at the same moment. One was that the voice was suddenly joined by other voices; more voices than you could possibly count. They were in harmony with it, but far higher up the scale: cold, tingling, silvery voices. The second wonder was that the blackness overhead, all at once, was blazing with stars. They didn't come out gently one by one, as they do on a summer evening. One moment there had been nothing but darkness; next moment a thousand, thousand points of light leaped out – single stars, constellations, and planets, brighter and bigger than any in our world. There were no clouds. The new stars and the new voices began at exactly the same time. If you had seen and heard it , as Digory did, you would have felt quite certain that it was the stars themselves who were singing, and that it was the First Voi ~ C.S. Lewis

From Our Narrative:

"Baila…I am going to kiss you now," Reid says. I smile and nod my head in agreement. Because Lord knows I am not able to get any words out of my mouth.
As his lips reach mine and we tenderly kiss. I start to feel a pounding in my head as the blood rushes through my body, signaling more than just a regular kiss. The kiss is sweet, his lips are soft and inviting to mine. My hands instinctively reach for his chest, crumpling his t-shirt in my grasp as the kiss deepens and our tongues happily do a twisting dance. Feeling his well-formed muscles beneath his long sleeved t-shirt. I let out a small satisfied moan when we break apart to catch our breath. ~ S.P. Wilcox

Some people will say that words like scum and rotten are wrong for Objective Journalism
which is true, but they miss the point. It was the built-in blind spots of the Objective rules and dogma that allowed Nixon to slither into the White House in the first place. ~ Hunter S. Thompson

I don't see that there is a credible threat for American action - the rhetoric of the U.S. President is too vague, very amorphous. I don't see that Obama's words will be translated into more tangible intentions and therefore this is probably why the Iranians don't take it seriously. They speak out against it and they dismiss it. ~ Tzachi Hanegbi

I felt sorry for her, baby, guilty and responsible. That's all it was. Once she started talking about you, I could have thrown her off the deck with no remorse. I know there are no words that can take away what you saw, just please say you understand. Liz is nothing to me, Evan, but you...you're everything. ~ Lilly Black

When he reached his own room again, he found Khloe curled up on his bed, asleep. He stood over her, watching her sleep peacefully for a few moments before taking a deep breath and moving to the other side of the bed. He sat down on top of the covers next to her and watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. He withdrew a leather bond journal from the nightstand drawer and tried to push Hecate's words from his mind.
Khloe is yours to deal with. ~ Lia Davis

Beautiful flowers for my beautiful girl. Cheesy as hell, right? But I know one day you'll let me say the real words to you. - Jess ~ S.D. Hendrickson

I do not believe one can settle how much we ought to give. I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare. In other words, if our expenditure on comforts, luxuries, amusements, etc, is up to the standard common among those with the same income as our own, we are probably giving away too little. If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, I should say they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditure excludes them. ~ C.S. Lewis

If they don't utter the words, it cannot happen. But words, once spoken, seal a man or maid for life or death. [Gisa] ~ Karen Maitland

Your words are unique to you.
A God given gift of thoughts and ideas that only you can share with the world. Share on! There is room on these shelves for your book!
B.Villareal 2014 ~ Becky Villareal

He is haunted by a demon, a demon against which he feels powerless, because in its first manifestation it has no face, no name, nothing; and the words, the poem he makes, are a kind of exorcism of this demon. ~ T. S. Eliot

That is the art of being a good librarian. You must always be able to lay hands on anything your master requires. Keep everything, chiot, throw away nothing, however insignificant or old. You never know when it might be needed. "The cornerstone which the builders rejected", that is what an ancient book is, Vincent, a cornerstone. Many might consider it worthless, but one day it may prove to be the very stone upon which the whole house stands. Words, Vincent, always hoard the written words as if they were royal jewels. [Gaspard] ~ Karen Maitland

When a poem is really finished, you can't change anything. You can't move words around. You can't say, 'In other words, you mean.' No, that's not it. There are no other words in which you mean it. This is it. ~ W.S. Merwin

Don't use words too big for the subject. Don't say infinitely when you mean very; otherwise you'll have no word left when you want to talk about something really infinite. ~ C.S. Lewis

Her lips thinned, but she ignored the bait. "Schedules have been moved up in all departments, you know. Claire received her new reproduction assignment. It didn't include Tony." "Reproduction assignment? You mean, having a baby?" Leo could feel his face flushing. Somewhere within him, a long-controlled steam pressure began to build. "Do you hide what you're really doing from yourselves with those weasel-words, too? And here I thought the propaganda was just for us peons." Yei started to speak, but Leo overrode her, bursting out, "Good God! Were you born inhuman, or did you grow so by degrees - M.S., M.D., Ph.D. . . ." Yei ~ Lois McMaster Bujold

A wispy murmur in the blackness. Blackness, where before there was only nothingness. It was dark, inky and thick, but there now existed the palpable sense of tangibility.

She gasped in alarm, but no sound came out of her throat.

"Where am I?," she shouted, but no words made it past her lips. ~ G.S. Jennsen

Just Now"

In the morning as the storm begins to blow away

the clear sky appears for a moment and it seems to me

that there has been something simpler than I could ever

believe

simpler than I could have begun to find words for

not patient not even waiting

no more hidden

than the air itself

that became part of me for a while

with every breath and remained with me

unnoticed

something that was here

unnamed

unknown

in the days

and the nights

not separate from them

not separate from them as they came and were gone

it must have been here neither early nor late then

by what name can I address it now holding out my

thanks. ~ W.S. Merwin