Glue It Back Together Quotes

I liken an affair to the shattering of a Waterford crystal vase. You can glue it back together, but it will never be the same again. ~ John M. Gottman

This next song is about when you get your heart broken and you try your best to glue it back together and you wake up one morning and you're so happy because you realize, Oh my God, the tape's holding! ~ Sara Quin

But this is something you need to know: when you find a place that suits you, where you decide to go back to often, to meet your pals there, if you want to feel at home and not discover some snag at the wrong moment, sit yourself in a corner, write letters, read, try and eat there, and watch what goes on for a whole day. At least twice during the day, and three times if the place is open at night, there's that moment of "temporal void". It happens every day, at the very same hour, at the very same minute, but it varies from place to place. People are talking, letting their hair down, having a drink together, and all of a sudden, the moment of silence: everyone turns stock still, with their glasses in the air, their eyes fixed. Immediately afterwards the hubbub resumes. But that moment when nothing's happening - it can last five, ten minutes. And during that time, outside and everywhere else, for other people life goes on, faster, much faster, like an avalanche. If you're prepared for it, and take advantage of that moment not to be fazed and to have your say, you're certain to be heard, and if necessary even obeyed. Try it. You'll see. ~ Jacques Yonnet

She'd once read a description of new motherhood that had struck her, at the time that she was returning to work after maxing out her maternity leave allowance, as a beautiful metaphor for her own days back at the office. It was that mother and baby are like a ball of yarn, and when the mother leaves the baby's side, it's as if the baby grabs hold of the loose end, a tug that both mother and baby feel in their every fiber. As they both move through the hours spent apart, the string unravels more and more, and then just when each is starting to feel diminished, barely even a ball of yarn at all anymore, it's time for the mother to make her way back. Together again, they need only a bit of time to wind the string back up, and then it's as if they had never been apart, right up until they wake up and do it all over again. ~ Jessica Strawser

The sand in the hour glass isn't meant to stick together. It will flow exactly same today, how it did ten years back. That's how much reliable that stuff is. The stuff that can be consistent. ~ Jasleen Kaur Gumber

In the kitchen, you dropped a plate, one of the willow-pattern blue platters, shattered it to bits, and as we swept if up together you said, 'Easy come, easy go,' and shrugged, and I thought then, That's a different way to see the world. I was always a worrier, always concerned about something in the back of my mind. And you made me see then that everything was perfect as it was, in that moment. Because we were happy there, sweeping up the pieces, you singing Dean Martin songs, and Southpaw joining in from his study. So that's what I remember, when I try to think about all of us. ~ Harriet Evans

Someone stop them!" I yell.

No one does.

I think about Porter surrounded by people that horrible day on the beach years ago, when no one would help him save his dad from the shark. If strangers won't help when someone is dying, they're definitely not going to stop two kids from running out of a museum.

Pulse swishing in my temples, I race around the information booth, pumping my arms, and watch them split up again. Polo is heading for the easy way out: the main exit, where there's (1) only a set of doors to go through, and (2) Hector, the laziest employee on staff.

But Backpack is headed for the ticketing booth and the connecting turnstiles. Freddy should be there, but no one's entering the museum, so he's instead chatting it up with Hector. The turnstiles are unmanned.

Like a pro hustler who's never paid a subway fare, Backpack hurdles over the turnstiles in one leap. Impressive. Or it would have been, had his backpack not slipped off his shoulder and the strap not caught on one of the turnstile arms. While he struggles to free it, I take the easier route and make for the wheelchair access gate.

I unhitch the latch.

He frees the strap.

I slip through the gate, and just as he's turning to run, I lurch forward and -

I jump on his back.

We hit the ground together. The air whooshes out of my lungs and my knee slams into tile. He cries out. I don't.

I freaking ~ Jenn Bennett

I've been thinking about the way, when you walk
down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs
to let you by. Or how strangers still say "bless you"
when someone sneezes, a leftover
from the Bubonic plague. "Don't die," we are saying.
And sometimes, when you spill lemons
from your grocery bag, someone else will help you
pick them up. Mostly, we don't want to harm each other.
We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,
and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile
at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress
to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,
and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.
We have so little of each other, now. So far
from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.
What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these
fleeting temples we make together when we say, "Here,
have my seat," "Go ahead - you first," "I like your hat. ~ Danusha Laméris

See, I did finally practice that adoring look you demanded, and I'm now going to suggest you try your hand at looking adoringly back at me," she muttered out of the side of her mouth even as she kept her smile firmly in place. "The guests will get suspicious if I'm the only one doing the whole adoring business."
His lips curved into a returning smile. She was so beautiful and so different from anyone he'd ever known that he decided there and then that, although this was to be the last night they were together, he was going to make the most out of it. ~ Jen Turano

Every time you use the Dragonflame philosophy, you refine your subtle body and stengthen your will by going through the process of separating the dross from the subtle and putting it back together again. Every time you follow this magical philosophy, you are doing what is know as the Great Work. In other words, every time you work magic using Dragonflame, you get closer to finding the Philosopher's Stone. ~ Lawren Leo

Hey, there, Kizuki, I thought. Unlike you, I've chosen to live - and to live the best I know how. Sure, it was hard for you. What the hell, it's hard for me. Really hard. And all because you killed yourself and left Naoko behind. But that's something I will never do. I will never, ever, turn my back on her. First of all, because I love her, and because I'm stronger than she is. And I'm just going to keep on getting stronger. I'm going to mature. I'm going to be an adult. Because that's what I have to do. I always used to think I'd like to stay 17 or 18 if I could. But not any more. I'm not a teenager any more. I've got a sense of responsibility now. I' m not the same person I was when we used to hang out together. I'm 20 now. And I have to pay the price to go on living. ~ Haruki Murakami

Chang-bo took to his bed, or rather to the quilts on the floor that was all they had left. His legs swelled up like balloons with what Mrs. Song had come to recognize as edema - fluid retention brought on by starvation. He talked incessantly about food. He spoke of the tofu soups his mother made him as a child and an unusually delicious meal of steamed crab with ginger that Mrs. Song had cooked for him when they were newlyweds. He had an uncanny ability to remember details of dishes she had cooked decades earlier. He was sweetly sentimental, even romantic, when he spoke about their meals together. He would take her hand in his own, his eyes wet and cloudy with the mist of his memories.
"Come, darling. Let's go to a good restaurant and order a nice bottle of wine," he told his wife one morning when they were stirring on the blankets. They hadn't eaten in three days. Mrs. Song looked at her husband with alarm, worried that he was hallucinating.
She ran out the door to the market, moving fast and forgetting all about the pain in her back. She was determined to steal, beg - whatever it took - to get some food for her husband. She spotted her older sister selling noodles. Her sister wasn't faring well - her skin was flaked just like Chang-bo's from malnutrition - so Mrs. Song had resisted asking her for help, but now she was desperate, and of course, her sister couldn't refuse.
"I'll pay you back," Mrs. Song promised as she ran back home, the adrenaline pu ~ Barbara Demick

To my Charley on his wedding day –
…Here is what you are going to find out about marriage: you have to work at it together. And you have to love three things. You have to love:
Each other.
Your children (When you have some! Hint! Hint!).
Your marriage

What I mean by the last one is, there may be times that you fight, and sometimes you and Catherine won't even like each other. But those are the times you have to love your marriage. It's like a third party. Look at your wedding photos. Look at any memories you've made. And if you believe in those memories, they will pull you back together.

I'm very proud of you today, Charley. I am putting this in your tuxedo pocket because I know how you lose things.

I love you every day!
Mom ~ Mitch Albom

So what's going on with you and your boyfriend?" Eli asked me right before he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth during breakfast the next morning.

I made a face in the direction of my plate before shooting a glance upward to find Gordo's eyes on me, a smirk on his face.

"Mason?" I asked, going back to my food.

Eli made a gagging noise, elbowing me hard in the ribs. "I'm not gonna go into details on how disturbing it is that I say 'your boyfriend' and you automatically think of fucking Mase."

"He's always calling me his wife, or telling people I don't know that we're getting married," I replied, elbowing him back as hard as he got me. It was partially the truth… but mostly, I didn't want to talk about the man who had been kissing my shoulder hours ago.

"I love Mase, but it'll be a sunny day in my asshole before you and him get together," he mumbled.

I snorted, biting into my biscuit. "Who the heck else would you be talking about?" I asked, but I knew. Oh, I knew damn well he was referring to Sacha.

Freaking Gordo snickered from across the table before putting his hands up in surrender when I glared at him. "I didn't say anything."

"Sacha, Flabby. Sacha. Your boyfriend. Your snuggle bug." Eliza finally answered.

Suddenly the half-eaten biscuit on my plate needed to be eaten immediately. I shoved the entire piece into my mouth to avoid the conversation my brother was trying t ~ Mariana Zapata

John,be reasonable," Virginia said. "I've known Billy a very long time, and we have had some great adventures together. He's as close as I have to a friend.When he dies, which he will,sooner or later,because he can be so stupid," she added, glaring at the American immortal, "it should be with a degree of dignity,rather than being fed to this ... this thing."
"Thanks," Billy wheezed.
"You're welcome.And you owe me."
"I'll remember."
Virginia turned back to Dee. "I'll make a deal."
"For what?" he demanded.
"For Billy's life," she said evenly.
"Do you forget who you're dealing with?" Dee snarled.
"Do you?" she asked softly. ~ Michael Scott

Can you just imagine the two of them next year at the Phi Delta Carnation Ball?" Laura Grace asks, clapping her hands together.
Daddy looks confused. "The two of who?"
"Why, Ryder and Jemma, of course." Mama pats him on the hand. "You remember the Carnation Ball--it's the first Phi Delta party of the year. They have to go together, right, Laura Grace?"
She nods. "We've been waiting all our lives for this."
Mama finally glances my way and sees my scowl. "Aw, honey. We're just teasing, that's all."
This sort of teasing has been going on my entire life--second verse, same as the first. It's gotten real old, real fast.
"May I be excused?" I ask, pushing back from the table.
"You go on and finish your dinner," Laura Grace says, entirely unperturbed. "We'll stop teasing. I promise."
"It's okay. I'm done. It was delicious, thanks. I just need to get some air, that's all. I'm getting a bit of a headache."
Laura Grace nods. "It's this heat--way too hot for September." She waves a hand in my direction. "Go on, then. Ryder, why don't you go get Jemma some aspirin or something."
I glance over at Ryder, and our eyes meet. I shake my head, hoping he gets the message. "No, it's fine. I'm…uh…I've got some in my purse."
"Go with her, son," Mr. Marsden prods. "Be a gentleman, and get her a bottle of water to take outside with her."
Ugh. I give up. My escape plot is now ruined.
Wordlessly, Ryder rises from the table and stalks out ~ Kristi Cook

So it wasn't a total surprise that Jay would turn a few heads while they were out tonight. She just hadn't anticipated the power of the two of them together. Two good-looking guys more than doubled the attention they drew. Even among people they knew at the Java Hut that night, Violet and Chelsea became instantly invisible.
Girls not only noticed the pair of boys but also giggled behind cupped hands and waved at the two of them.
Jay was either unaware or chose to ignore them altogether. Mike, on the other hand, was not. And did not. Not only did he notice the interest he attracted, he seemed to enjoy it.
Violet recognized it immediately for what it was: Mike was as much an attention whore as Chelsea.
Violet was fine with that. Chelsea, not so much.
Violet let Jay draw her through the crowds that bottlenecked near the entrance. She liked knowing that he belonged to her while all those envious eyes looked on.
"I guess Chelsea's not the only one who's into Mike," Violet whispered while Jay dragged her over to stand in line at the counter.
Jay glanced back to where Chelsea stood on the outskirts of three girls from school who were animatedly chatting with Mike.
"Yeah. She's not doing too good, is she?" Jay agreed.
"I thought she'd have him eating out of her hand by now." Violet wrinkled her nose, worrying over her friend.
"You mean like you have me doing?"
Violet smiled up at him and then bumped him with her shoulder. "Yes. E ~ Kimberly Derting

You have a diasporic black world, and the only way to put it back together again is symbolic. It's like Humpty Dumpty. Whoever could edit the 'Encyclopedia Africana' would provide symbolic order to the fragments created over the past 500 years. That is a major contribution. ~ Henry Louis Gates

Perhaps the couple got married at 25 and now they're 45 and this is an option. And if a couple is still together, or perhaps finds its way back together, I like to say that it's forever. They belong together, it's a good fit, it's the right pairing. It almost gives me goose bumps. ~ Volkmar Sigusch

A permanent dull ache spread from my belly to my chest. I thought I could feel pinpricks of loneliness in the pads of my fingers, taste it in the back of my mouth. Clara Miller must have been lonely too, longing to be touched. One day as she sat before her metal tub filled to the rim with sweet corn, she reached behind her head and unpinned her silver hair. It tumbled down her back like creamy lace cloak. She hiked her skirts to her knees and I could see she had removed her stockings. Her legs were heavy and milk white, solid as columns. She hiked her skirts higher, until they bunched in her lap.

When I kissed the back of her neck she quivered, like the dying peasant I'd shot and killed a week before. Her silver hair smelled like smoke. Clara and I tangled together like the bale of wire resting beside the unrepaired chicken coop. We were shameless, falling to the ground, wading into the creek, making our way to her bed. ~ Susan Power

Just then a word floated out through the buzz saw of Zapata-speak: Nefertari. Dan tuned back in.
"...the most beautiful tomb in Egypt," Ms. Zapata was saying. "You probably know the queen because there's a famous bust of her."
A photo flashed on the screen.
Dan raised his hand. "That's Nefertiti," he said. "Different queen."
Ms. Zapata frowned. She looked at her notes. "You could be right, Dan. Uh...let's move on."
Another slide flashed on-screen. "Now, this is the inner chamber of the tomb, where she was laid to rest."
Dan's hand rose again. Ms. Zapata closed her eyes.
"Actually? That's the side chamber."
"Really." Ms. Zapata's lips pressed together. "And how do you know this, Dan?"
"Because..." Dan hesitated. Because I was there. Because I was locked inside the tomb with an ex-KGB spy, so I got to know it pretty well.
"Especially since the tomb is closed for conservation," Ms. Zapata said.
Yeah. But we had this connection to an Egyptologist? Except he turned out to be a thief and a liar, so we captured him. I came this close to smashing him with a lamp... ~ Jude Watson

Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; j forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38 k give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put l into your lap. For m with the measure you use it will be measured back to you. ~ Anonymous

He leaned in. I felt his breath against my neck, then the press of his mouth against my skin just above the collar, almost a sigh.
"Don't," I said. I drew back, but he held me tighter. His hand went to the nape of my neck, long fingers twining in my hair, easing my head back. I closed my eyes.
"Let me," he murmured against my throat. His heel hooked around my leg, bringing me closer. I felt the heat of his tongue, the flex of hard muscle beneath bare skin as he guided my hands around his waist. "It isn't real," he said. "Let me."
I felt that rush of hunger, the steady, longing beat of desire that neither of us wanted, but that gripped us anyway. We were alone in the world, unique. We were bound together and always would be.
And it didn't matter.
I couldn't forget what he'd done, and I wouldn't forgive what he was: a murderer. A monster. A man who had tortured my friends and slaughtered the people I'd tried to protect. I shoved away from him. "It's real enough. ~ Leigh Bardugo

Miss Kay

Alan had a run-in with the police one Sunday morning while he was in New Orleans and as best he can recall, one of the officers said to him, "Let me talk to you. What are your mom and dad doing right now?"
"They're in church, where they always go," Alan answered.
"I knew," said the officer, "that you were raised different." In other words, the policeman could tell Alan was not what some people might call a "common criminal." The officer went on to speak some very strong words: "You have just done something really bad. Whatever you're doing here, pack it up. Go home and live like your mom and dad; go live like you were raised. I don't know your parents, but I have a feeling they will welcome you back like the Prodigal Son."
Phil and I had not been able to get through to Alan or influence him to change his ways while he was living with us, but that policeman in New Orleans sure got through to him. Sometimes we wonder if that policeman was an angel. Whether he was or was not, God definitely used him to get Alan back where he needed to be.
Alan left "the Big Easy" right away and came back to us. He started walking with God again; he reconnected with Lisa. He and Phil began studying the Bible together; Phil baptized him in the river by our house, and he has been a totally different person ever since. ~ Korie Robertson

You going to the game tonight?"
I was about to answer,but another voice rang out from just behind me.
"She'd better," Jack said as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back against him. I could smell the fresh leather on his letterman jacket as I crunched against it.
"Why is that?" I asked,smiling and instantly warm in his arms.I still couldn't get over the fact that Jack Caputo and I were...together. It was hard to think the word. We had been friends for so long.To be honest, he had been friends with me and I had been secretly pining for him since...well, since forever.
But now he was here. It was my waist he held. It didn't seem real.
"I can't carry the team to victory without you," he said. "You're my rabbit's foot."
I craned my neck around to look at him. "I've always dreamed of some guy saying that to me."
He pressed his lips to the base of my neck, and heat rushed to my cheeks. "I love making you turn red," he whispered.
"It doesn't take much. We're in the middle of the hallway."
"You want to know what else I love?" His tone was playful.
"No," I said, but he wasn't listening. He took his fingers and lightly railed them up my spine,to the back of my neck.Instant goose bumps sprang up all over my body,and I shuddered.
"That."
I could feel his smile against my ear. Jack was always smiling.It was what made him so likable.
By this time,Jules had snaked her way through the throng of students. "Hello, ~ Brodi Ashton

Does all this have anything to do with Cameron coming back?"
"Basically."
She didn't put any letters down. Our game had effectively stopped. "I know you might think you want to be with Cameron that way," she said, "but remember it's been such a short time that he's been back, and-"
"It's not that."
"Are you sure?"
"I don't picture us together, like a couple. It's more like..."
"Like a brother?"
"Mom, could you just listen?" She clamped her lips shut. "Not like a brother," I said. "It's almost like nothing would be enough. Being a couple wouldn't be enough. Being like brother and sister wouldn't be enough. It's an endless sense of...I don't know." I could tell her it was killing her not to talk. I sighed. "Go ahead."
"Unfinished business," she said, with a rush of breath. "That's what I see between you two."
"Unfinished business?"
"Yes. And I think it will feel that way until the day you die."
I looked at her to see if she was serious. She was. "Great. ~ Sara Zarr

Good-bye,' I said to them, but they didn't seem to hear me, and why would they have wanted to? Why would they have wanted to do with the world outside of each other? Outside each other, they were mean little human beings like the rest of us, the kind of people you both loathed and pitied. Separately, they were characters, and not in a good way. But together they were something to wonder at and maybe even envy. I had this unoriginal thought as I walked out the door and toward my van: love changes us, makes us into people whom others then want to love. That's why, to those of us without it, love is the voice asking, What else? What else? And to those of us who have had love and lost it or thrown it away, then love is the voice that leads us back to love, to see if it might still be ours or if we've lost it, love is also the thing that makes us speak in aphorisms about love, which is why we try to get love back, so we can stop speaking that way. Aphoristically, that is. ~ Brock Clarke

I like that," Bree admitted. "It's like…it's never too late to change." Her eyes met his, and she hoped he understood that she meant it for him as well as for herself. She wanted Alessandro to give in to the good she knew was in him and leave the Dardano family behind.
"I forgot about that. I feel rather ashamed of it now. Because of the things I've done. Then I was looking at this tiny creature here, and you're going to think I'm mad but…every time I look at him, he looks different to me. He's the same boy, but something in him is always changing. It's not a physical thing that I can explain to you, but it's…like…I don't know," Alessandro said shrugging and lowering his head. He sat on the bed next to her and stared at the incubator. The baby's eyes were open, staring back, blinking slowly, sleepily.
"You're seeing him become a person. Like all the parts of him are coming together and making this tiny person's soul. He was one person in here," Bree pointed to her stomach. "And now he's changing on the outside so he can be a part of the world."
"That's it," Alessandro nodded. "He's a part of the world now. My world, in a completely different way than when he was inside of you. It's like having two sons and watching them become one as a slow minute by minute process. He's never going to stop changing. What he thinks and feels now is not going to be what he thinks and feels tomorrow or fifty years from now."
"It's the same for you," Bree said, closing he ~ E. Jamie

That's what Hubble can do for us. It can tell us whether the universe is expanding forever or if one day it's going to come back together. ~ Duane G. Carey

Are you disappointed?" I asked coldly.
Amar slipped his arms around my waist. "I always believed in you. It is the world outside who needed convincing."
"Liar," I hissed, stepping out of the ring of his arms.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"You humiliated me. You left me to them like carrion before vultures. And like vultures, they devoured me."
My voice was hoarse and brittle. I hated him. I hated him for abandoning me. I hated him for needing him.
Amar stepped back, his jaw clenched. "I did it to quell dissent. To keep you safe. I was ashamed that I had to ask you to undergo the agni pariksha."
"So ashamed you distanced yourself from me the moment you demanded that trial?"
Amar looked stunned. "I am the Dharma Raja for a reason. I would not have my own impartiality questioned by favoring you. Surely, you knew this."
"What would you have done if I failed?"
"You couldn't fail," said Amar. "That's why I did not worry. You were meant to be the queen of these lands. We were meant to rule together. For all of eternity. ~ Roshani Chokshi

...Would you like to know the view I have out of my window, since you love snow? So here you are: the broad whiteness of the Moldau, and along that whiteness, little black silhouettes of people cross from one shore to the other, like musical notes. For example, the figure of some boy is dragging behind him a D-sharp: a sledge. Across the river there are snowy roofs in a distant, lightweight sky...


I walked around the cathedral along a slippery path between snowdrifts. The snow was light, dry: grab a handful, throw it up, and it disperses in the air like dust, as if flying back up. The sky darkened. In it appeared a thin golden moon: half of a broken halo. I walked along the edge of the fortress wall. Old Prague lay below in the thickening mist. The snowy roofs clustered together, cumbrous and dim. The houses seemed to have been piled anyhow, in a moment of terrible and fantastic carelessness. In this frozen storm of outlines, in this snowy semi-darkness, the streetlamps and windows were burning with a warm and sweet lustre, like well-licked punch lollipops. In just one place you could also see a little scarlet light, a drop of pomegranate juice. And in the fog of crooked walls and smoky corners I divined an ancient ghetto, mystical ruins, the alley of Alchemists... ~ Vladimir Nabokov

It's all there, it's all waiting. Of course it can be done; it depends upon ourselves.

You say: "But again, we're scattered individuals. Everything's against us. Governments, money, press, television - all the new forces are used against us." All the great forces, all the material powers of the world, you say, are against you. And so they are - you're quite right to feel that.

And I don't underrate them, but I don't despair and you shouldn't despair. Because you, like I, have read something of history. You know something of the record of the achievement of Europeans. And dark as this hour is, it's no darker, it's not as dark as some of the hours you've known in European history.

When everything was cowardice, treachery, and betrayal. And when the Saracen hordes from far outside Europe swept right across that continent, and would've come on over our own Britain too, if they hadn't been stopped. And it didn't only happen once, it's happened more than once.

Small bands of men in resolution, in absolute determination, giving themselves completely and saying "Europe shall live!" And they stood firm and faced the menace to Europe: its values, its civilizations, the glory of its achievement - all those things in mortal danger. And they stood firm, they faced it, they came together, and more and more ran it to their standards, and those hordes were thrown back. Again and again and again, our Europe lived in triumph because the will of Euro ~ Oswald Mosley

Don't ever leave me again," I said in a tiny voice.
I won't," he promised into my hair, sounding most un-Fang-like. "I won't. Not ever."
And just like that, a cold shard of ice that had been inside my chest ever since we'd split up-well, it just disappeared. I felt myself relax for the first time in I don't known how long. The wind was chilly, but the sun was bright, and my whole flock was together. Fang and I were together.
Excuse me? I'm alive too." Iggy's plaintive voice made me pull back. ~ James Patterson

I would compare that to when I first started with the Montreal Canadiens; it was a big family then, where the guys really stuck together and worked like a unit. But when I came back in '88, it was not like that anymore. ~ Guy Lafleur

I was soon discharged from the rehab center and sent back to the SAS. But the doctor's professional opinion was that I shouldn't military parachute again. It was too risky. One dodgy landing, at night, in full kit, and my patched-up spine could crumple.
He didn't even mention the long route marches carrying huge weights on our backs.
Every SF soldier knows that a weak back is not a good opener for life in an SAS squadron.
It is also a cliché just how many SAS soldiers' backs and knees are plated and pinned together, after years of marches and jumps. Deep down I knew the odds weren't looking great for me in the squadron, and that was a very hard pill to swallow.
But it was a decision that, sooner or later, I would have to face up to. The doctors could give me their strong recommendations, but ultimately I had to make the call.
A familiar story. Life is all about our decisions. And big decisions can often be hard to make.
So I thought I would buy myself some time before I made it.
In the meantime, at the squadron, I took on the role of teaching survival to other units. I also helped the intelligence guys while my old team were out on the ground training.
But it was agony for me. Not physically, but mentally: watching the guys go out, fired up, tight, together, doing the job and getting back excited and exhausted. That was what I should have been doing.
I hated sitting in an ops room making tea for intelligence officers.
I tried ~ Bear Grylls

I pushed passed him. He grabbed my hand and swung me back towards him. Then he pushed me against the wall and ... he kissed me.
He ran his thumb along my jawline and down my throat, hips pinning me to the wall. He kissed me slowly and with intensity, and once I got over the mind-numbing shock and comprehended what was actually happening, it was incredible. I had never been kissed like that before. We melted together. Every movement of mine was somehow perfectly mirrored by his. My heart was pounding so hard I knew he must be able to feel it and I was sure my legs were giving way, but he held me up, pushed me harder against the wall.
I grabbed a handful of his hair, remembering all the times I'd dreamed of doing it. I let my hand drift down his back and pulled him even closer to me. It all happened so quickly. I heard him make a low kind of growl and lean into me. His hand slid down my leg behind my knee, drawing it to him. I moaned and felt him tense. ~ Jessica Shirvington

I don't like you, Park," she said, sounding for a second like she actually meant it. "I ... " - her voice nearly disappeared - "think I live for you."
He closed his eyes and pressed his head back into his pillow.
"I don't think I even breathe when we're not together," she whispered. "Which means, when I see you on Monday morning, it's been like sixty hours since I've taken a breath. That's probably why I'm so crabby, and why I snap at you. All I do when we're apart is think about you, and all I do when we're together is panic. Because every second feels so important. And because I'm so out of control, I can't help myself. I'm not even mine anymore, I'm yours, and what if you decide that you don't want me? How could you want me like I want you?"
He was quiet. He wanted everything she'd just said to be the last thing he heard. He wanted to fall asleep with 'I want you' in his ears. ~ Rainbow Rowell

It's not till sex has died out between a man and a woman that they can really love. And now I mean affection. Now I mean to be fond of (as one is fond of oneself) -to hope, to be disappointed, to live inside the other heart. When I look back on the pain of sex, the love like a wild fox so ready to bite, the antagonism that sits like a twin beside love, and contrast it with affection, so deeply unrepeatable, of two people who have lived a life together (and of whom one must die) it's the affection I find richer. It's that I would have again. Not all those doubtful rainbow colors. ~ Enid Bagnold

Not the kind of girl to break up and get back together on a whim; once she's decided something, that's it. There's no waffling, no regrets. It's like she said: when she's done, she's just done. ~ Jenny Han

We were beginning to see that the medical profession, at the time still over 90 percent male, had transformed childbirth from a natural event into a surgical operation performed on an unconscious patient in what approximated a sterile environment. Routinely, the woman about to give birth was subjected to an enema, had her pubic hair shaved off, and was placed in the lithotomy position - on her back, with knees up and crotch spread wide open. As the baby began to emerge, the obstetrician performed an episiotomy, a surgical enlargement of the vaginal opening, which had to be stitched back together after birth. Each of these procedures came with a medical rationale: The enema was to prevent contamination with feces; the pubic hair was shaved because it might be unclean; the episiotomy was meant to ease the baby's exit. But each of these was also painful, both physically and otherwise, and some came with their own risks, Shaving produces small cuts and abrasions that are open to infection; episiotomy scars heal m ore slowly than natural tears and can make it difficult for the woman to walk or relieve herself for weeks afterward. The lithotomy position may be more congenial for the physician than kneeling before a sitting woman, but it impedes the baby's process through the birth canal and can lead to tailbone injuries in the mother. ~ Barbara Ehrenreich

And I found that I can do it if I choose to - I can stay awake and let the sorrows of the world tear me apart and then allow the joys to put me back together different from before but whole once again. ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

[ ... ] it is a strange thing that most of the feeling we call religious, most of the mystical outcrying which is one of the most prized and used and desired reactions of our species, is really the understanding and the attempt to say that man is related to the whole thing, related inextricably to all reality, known and unknowable. This is a simple thing to say, but the profound feeling of it made a Jesus, a St. Augustine, a St. Francis, a Roger Bacon, a Charles Darwin, and an Einstein. Each of them in his own tempo and with his own voice discovered and reaffirmed with astonishment the knowledge that all things are one thing and that one thing is all things - plankton, a shimmering phosphorescence on the sea and the spinning planets and an expanding universe, all bound together by the elastic string of time. It is advisable to look from the tide pool to the stars and then back to the tide pool again. ~ John Steinbeck

Thomas grins, grabs her hand, and kisses it. Since they just got back together, I'm willing to let this PDA business slide. ~ Kendare Blake

The world being broken. Maybe it isn't that we're supposed to find the pieces and put them back together. Maybe we're the pieces. - Nick ~ Rachel Cohn

Sevro." I lean forward. "Your eyes ... "
He leans in close. "Do you like 'em?"
"Bloodydamn. Did you get Carved?"
"By the best in the business. Do you like 'em?"
"They're bloodydamn marvelous. Fit you like a glove."
He punches his hands together. "Glad you said that. Cuz they're yours."
I blanch. "What?"
"They're yours."
"My what?"
"Your eyes!"
"My eyes ... "
"Do you want the eyes back?" Sevro asks, suddenly worried. "I can give them back."
"No!" I say. "It's just I forgot how crazy you are."
"Oh." He laughs and slaps my shoulder. "Good. I thought it might be something serious. So I'm prime keeping them?"
"Finders keepers," I say with a shrug. ~ Pierce Brown

Hello Angel,'Michael rumbled, and leaned over to give the woman a kiss on the cheek. She accepted it with all the loving tolerance of a Komodo dragon. 'Don't you hello angel me. Do you know what I had to go through to find a baby-sitter, get all the way out here, get the money together and then get the sword back for you? ~ Jim Butcher

So it looks like I'll be stuck hugging a photograph."
"I'm sorry," Emma said. "No, that's not true. I'm glad. I want you to miss me desperately."
"I think you'll get your wish," Jimmy said. "When will you come back?"
"Next summer, definitely, whether Dad wants me to come or not. I'll be an independent girl with a college degree. Maybe some paper like the Miami Herald or the LA Times will offer me a job. In the meantime, we have the National Geographic piece to pull together. We can still be a team."
"Be warned that I may come after you."
"If you do, there's something I want you to bring me."
"Sure. Anything," Jimmy said, "as long as it's not some kind of exotic pet. What?"
"This." Emma took Jimmy's face in her hands and looked straight in his eyes. She then placed her lips on his and gave him a kiss. It was a kiss that erased the pain and eradicated the bad memories, a kiss that left nothing but joy and a promise for things to come. ~ Victoria Griffith

If I could put back the pieces and make them right,I'd turn back the hands of time with all my might.You'd never think that things went wrong.If I took the pain away and if I say that you complete me in every single way.If I shout it from the clouds above for everyone to hear.Could you ever believe me?If I whisper to you sweetly,you say you need a reason. But I've never gone astray.Now if I can once again persuade you
to say yes to me today.There is just one more question left for me to ask before we throw it all away.What do you say?Please say yes to me today
I gave you my heart, placed it in your hands for our dreams of tomorrow, just like we planned together as one for the rest of our days.But If I'd only showed instead of told you,I would have taken this doubt away.If I scream it from the sky above so everyone is sure to know.Could you ever believe me?If I whisper to you sweetly,you cry out you need a reason.But we've never gone astray.Now if I can once again persuade you to say yes to me today
If you give me your hand, I'll wrap it in golden bands for a long future together, I'd be a happy man.I'll hold you forever as our story unfolds by my side.You've been my only lover, let the truth be told.
If I scream it from the sky above so everyone is sure to know.Could you ever believe me?If I whisper to you sweetly If I say I am your reason and our love will light our way.Now if I can once again persuade you to say yes to me today.There is just one more que ~ Tina Reber

The stormy black sky had faded to dark gray, and in the distance white, billowing clouds blew across the prairie. They began racing one another, tossed by the wind, and the sun shining on them made them appear a brilliant white against the evening sky.
Memories crowded about her:a French trader with laughing eyes; a long ride into Fort Kearney; and somewhere, far back,a little mound of stones receding into the wide plain as a wagon rumbled away.Then he came, a Lakota brave, one with his snow white pony. They bounded together across the sky,and with each leap Jesse's heart fluttered.She stood on the prairie,her long red braides decorated with feathers, the part dusted with ochre. She raised a trembling hand in greeting, but he was gone.
Her hand fell back against the quilt, and Jesse saw the clouds again and realized it had only been a memory. She was an old woman,too tired to help with the supper,perhaps even too tired to be of use to Lisbeth.
The clouds outside came closer,and the old heart fluttered at the memory of a man who rode on the wind long ago.Now it seemed that the rode again across the sky,into the room.He raised one hand in greeting.
"I will ask the Father," he had said, "and I will come for you."
Jesse sat up in bed,her face alive with a new light.Rides the Wind smiled and reached out to sweep her up behind him.
And the Father said, "Come home.

The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places;
yes,I have a goodly her ~ Stephanie Grace Whitson

It's halftime. Both teams are in their locker room discussing what they can do to win this game in the second half.

It's halftime in America, too. People are out of work and they're hurting. And they're all wondering what they're going to do to make a comeback. And we're all scared, because this isn't a game.

The people of Detroit know a little something about this. They almost lost everything. But we all pulled together, now Motor City is fighting again.

I've seen a lot of tough eras, a lot of downturns in my life. And, times when we didn't understand each other. It seems like we've lost our heart at times. When the fog of division, discord, and blame made it hard to see what lies ahead.

But after those trials, we all rallied around what was right, and acted as one. Because that's what we do. We find a way through tough times, and if we can't find a way, then we'll make one.

All that matters now is what's ahead. How do we come from behind? How do we come together? And, how do we win?

Detroit's showing us it can be done. And, what's true about them is true about all of us.

This country can't be knocked out with one punch. We get right back up again and when we do the world is going to hear the roar of our engines.

Yeah, it's halftime America. And, our second half is about to begin. ~ Clint Eastwood