I Will Never Give Up On Him Quotes

Once I entered the house late at night and overheard Mark and my mom having sex by the fireplace. She was moaning like she was flying on a magic carpet. I almost puked into the kitchen sink. I would give anything for her to dump him. Jade's mom says it will never happen because women over 45 have a better chance of getting blown up by a terrorist than finding a man. Haha! If I ever get that desperate, I will buy a giant vibrator and never leave the house. ~ Allison Burnett

You cold or something?' he said. She strained against him; she wanted to pass clear through him: 'It's a chill, it's nothing'; and then, pushing a little away: 'Say you love me.'

I said it.'

No, oh no. You haven't. I was listening. And you never do.'

Well, give me time.'

Please.'

He sat up and glanced at a clock across the room. It was after five. Then decisively he pulled off his windbreaker and began to unlace his shoes.

Aren't you going to, Clyde?'

He grinned back at her. 'Yeah, I'm going to.'

I don't mean that; and what's more, I don't like it: you sound as though you were talking to a whore.'

Come off it, honey. You didn't drag me up here to tell you about love.'

You disgust me,' she said.

Listen to her! She's sore!'

A silence followed that circulated like an aggrieved bird. Clyde said, 'You want to hit me, huh? I kind of like you when you're sore: that's the kind of girl you are,' which made Grady light in his arms when he lifted and kissed her. 'You still want me to say it?' Her head slumped on his shoulder. 'Because I will,' he said, fooling his fingers in her hair. 'Take off your clothes--and I'll tell it to you good. ~ Truman Capote

Fuck, you're the hardest bitch I've ever met to give shit to," he grumbled. My emotions careening all over the place, I pulled back and narrowed my eyes on him. "Oh, so, you were also generous with your smorgasbord of pussy?" He grinned. "Baby, don't ask me that, but I will say I never gave any of them a spa." "Good," I snapped. "Or a phone that cost a G," he went on. "Excellent," I snapped again. "Maybe a dress or shoes, but not both and definitely not three," he muttered then finished musingly, "Or even two." "It might be a good idea to shut up now, Knight," I suggested. He grinned again. ~ Kristen Ashley

Sometimes," she told me, "a girl will give a guy a blow job at the end of the night because she doesn't want to have sex with him and he expects to be satisfied. So if I want him to leave and I don't want anything to happen . . ." She trailed off, leaving me to imagine the rest.

There was so much to unpack in that short statement: why a young man should expect to be sexually satisfied; why a girl not only isn't outraged, but considers it her obligation to comply; why she doesn't think a blow job constitutes "anything happening"; the pressure young women face in any personal relationship to put others' needs before their own; the potential justification of assault with a chaser of self-blame. "It goes back to girls feeling guilty," Anna said. "If you go to a guy's room and are hooking up with him, you feel bad leaving him without pleasing him in some way. But, you know, it's unfair. I don't think he feels badly for you."

In their research on high school girls and oral sex, April Burns, a professor of psychology at City University of New York, and her colleagues found that girls thought of fellatio kind of like homework: a chore to get done, a skill to master, one on which they expected to be evaluated, possibly publicly. As with schoolwork, they worried about failing or performing poorly - earning the equivalent of low marks. Although they took satisfaction in a task well done, the pleasure they described was never physical, never located in their own b ~ Peggy Orenstein

He touched her chin. His eyes never left hers, and she almost felt as if he'd touched those as well. And then, with the softest, most tender caress imaginable, he kissed her. Sophie didn't just feel loved; she felt revered.
"I should wait until Monday," he said, "but I don't want to."
"I don't want you to wait," she whispered.
He kissed her again, this time with a bit more urgency. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "Everything I ever dreamed of."
His lips found her cheek, her chin, her neck, and every kiss, every nibble robbed her of balance and breath. She was sure her legs would give out, sure her strength would fail her under his tender onslaught, and just when she was convinced she'd crumple to the floor, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
"In my heart," he vowed, settling her against the quilts and pillows, "you are my wife."
Sophie's breath caught.
"After our wedding it will be legal," he said, stretching out alongside her, "blessed by God and country, but right now - " His voice grew hoarse as he propped himself up on one elbow so that he could gaze into her eyes. "Right now it is true."
Sophie reached up and touched his face. "I love you," she whispered. "I have always loved you. I think I loved you before I even knew you."
He leaned down to kiss her anew, but she stopped him with a breathy, "No, wait."
He paused, mere inches from her lips.
"At the masquerade," she said, her voice ~ Julia Quinn

Bree grit her teeth and lunged for him but Brian held her back and Will spoke up instead. "You go away!" Will cried back angrily. "I know you did sumting dat made my mommy mad at my daddy. Is you fault!" "I suggest you put a muzzle on your brat and get back in the living room," Bernardo ordered. "Careful, Father. This is none of your concern," Alessandro said. "Are you kidding me?" Bree asked. "Of course this is his concern because he's the only one you give a damn about. You'll do anything for him. Absolutely anything even if it means betraying me or Will or God forbid Gianni." "That is not true. I would never - " "It is true!" Bree yelled. "Everything you've done has proven that." "Look, every marriage has problems and that is no reason to turn back on the vows you made to each other," Bernardo pointed out. "You made a promise to honor the terms of the O'Reiley/Dardano vendetta. Be careful before you renege on those vows, Mrs. Dardano." "You and your stupid vendetta!" Bree hissed. "Begun by a man who couldn't handle the fact that he couldn't have what he wanted! God it must be genetic. Well, I guess I shouldn't blame you, Alessandro. Knowing Bernardo and Adriano, at least you come by it honestly. ~ E. Jamie

Chloe kept her expression bland. He looked immensely pleased with himself this morning, and there was no way
she was letting him know she'd had even one nocturnal thought about him. "I can't remember," she said, blinking
guilelessly. "In fact, I slept so deeply I don't think I dreamt at
all."
"Indeed," he murmured. When he moved forward, she nearly jumped out of her skin, but he simply reached behind
her and pulled the door to her bedchamber shut.
Then backed her against it.
"Hey," she snapped.
"I sought but to give you a good morrow kiss, lass. 'Tis a Scots custom."
She craned her neck, scowling up at him, and gave him a look that said Yeah, right, nice try.
"A wee one. No tongue. I promise," he said, his lips curving faintly.
"You never give up, do you?"
"I never will, sweet. Doona you know that by now?"
Oooh, that was beginning to take on shades of her dream.
And he'd called her "sweet," a little endearment. She damped her mouth shut and shook her head. ~ Karen Marie Moning

You stand there all tan and glowing and wonder why I use Voice on you?" he bellowed. "Where the hell do you get off? You've been with V'lane again. How many slaps in the face do you think I'm going to take, Ms. Lane?" He grabbed my fist and held it when I tried to punch him again. I swung at him with the other. He caught that, too. "I warned you not to play us against each other."
"I'm not playing you! I'm trying to survive. And I don't slap you when I go off with V'lane!" I tried to yank my fists from his hands. "It doesn't have anything to do with you. I'm trying to get answers, and since you won't give me any, you can't blame me for going somewhere else."
"So, the man who doesn't get laid at home has the right to go off and cheat?"
"Huh?"
"Which word didn't you understand?" he sneered.
"You're the one who's crippled by illogic. This isn't home, it never will be, and nobody's getting laid!" I practically shouted.
"You think I don't know that?" He shifted his body beneath me, making me painfully aware of something. Two somethings, in fact, one of which was how far up my short skirt was. The other wasn't my problem. I wriggled, to shimmy my hem down, but his expression perished the thought. When Barrons looks at me like that, it rattles me. Lust, in those ancient, obsidian eyes, offers no trace of humanity. Doesn't even bother trying.
Savage Mac wants to invite it to come out and play. I think she's nuts. Nuts, I tell you.
"Let go of my ~ Karen Marie Moning

I see why people are obsessed with figuring him out. For years, I thought continually about how this same person I loved could do these cruel and violent things. Finally, I was able to let go. I took on this mantra: He's crazy, and being sane, you will never understand crazy. Just give up. Life your life. You still have it. It's a gift. ~ Molly Kendall

We walk for about an hour before Raffe whispers, "Does moping actually help humans feel better?"
"I'm not moping," I whisper back.
"Of course you're not. A girl like you, spending time with a warrior demigod like me. What's to mope about? Leaving a wheelchair behind couldn't possibly show up on the radar compared to that."
I nearly stumble over a fallen branch. "You have got to be kidding me."
"I never kid about my warrior demigod status."
"Oh. My. God." I lower my voice, having forgotten to whisper. "You are nothing but a bird with an attitude. Okay, so you have a few muscles, I'll grant you that. But you know, a bird is nothing but a barely evolved lizard. That's what you are."
He chuckles. "Evolution." He leans over as if telling me a secret. "I'll have you know that I've been this perfect since the beginning of time." He is so close that his breath caresses my ear.
"Oh, please. Your giant head is getting too big for this forest. Pretty soon, you're going to get stuck trying to walk between two trees. And then, I'll have to rescue you." I give him a weary look. "Again."
I pick up my pace, trying to discourage the smart comeback that I'm sure will come.
But it doesn't. Could he be letting me have the last say?
When I look back, Raffe has a smug grin on his face. That's when I realize I've been manipulated into feeling better. I stubbornly try to resist but it's already too late. ~ Susan Ee

Students of public speaking continually ask, "How can I overcome
self-consciousness and the fear that paralyzes me before an
audience?"
Did you ever notice in looking from a train window that some
horses feed near the track and never even pause to look up at the
thundering cars, while just ahead at the next railroad crossing a
farmer's wife will be nervously trying to quiet her scared horse as
the train goes by?
How would you cure a horse that is afraid of cars - graze him in a
back-woods lot where he would never see steam-engines or
automobiles, or drive or pasture him where he would frequently see
the machines?
Apply horse-sense to ridding yourself of self-consciousness and
fear: face an audience as frequently as you can, and you will soon stop shying. You can never attain
freedom from stage-fright by reading a treatise. A book may give
you excellent suggestions on how best to conduct yourself in the
water, but sooner or later you must get wet, perhaps even strangle
and be "half scared to death." There are a great many "wetless"
bathing suits worn at the seashore, but no one ever learns to swim
in them. To plunge is the only way. ~ Dale Carnegie

They are demanding equal rights with us,' says Mrs. Fiedke. 'That's why I never vote with the Liberals. Perfume, jewellery, hair down to their shoulders, and I'm not talking about the ones who were born like that. I mean, the ones that can't help it should be put on an island. It's the others I'm talking about. There was a time they would stand up and open the door for you. They would take their hat off. But they want their equality today. All I say is that if God had intended them to be as good as us he wouldn't have made them different from us to the naked eye. They don't want to be all dressed alike any more. Which is only a move against us. You couldn't run an army like that, let alone the male sex. With all due respects to Mr. Fiedke, may he rest in peace, the male sex is getting out of hand. Of course, Mr. Fiedke knew his place as a man, give him his due.'
…..
'If we don't look lively,' she says, 'they will be taking over the homes and the children, and sitting about having chats while we go and fight to defend them and work to keep them. They won't be content with equal rights only. Next thing they'll want the upper hand, mark my words. Diamond earrings, I've read in the paper. ~ Muriel Spark

Brisbane continued. "I have led a selfish life, and I have enjoyed it. I cannot imagine a life without my work, and I cannot imagine a life without you, and yet I cannot reconcile the two." My heart, which had given a joyous leap in the middle of his speech, faltered now as I realised what he was trying to say. "I never thought to ask you to give up your work," I began. "But how can I ask you to sit idly by and wait for me to return when every time I kiss you goodbye might be the last?" "Oh, don't!" I told him, fully enraged. "How dare you blame your cowardice upon me?" His lips went white, as did the tiny crescent moon scar high upon his cheekbone. "I beg your pardon?" "Cowardice," I said distinctly. "You hide behind this pretence of fine feeling because you will not declare yourself directly and this gives you a perfect excuse, does it not? Spare poor Julia the horror of being widowed a second time. Put her up on the shelf and keep her out of harm's way whilst you amuse yourself with your dashing adventures." He opened his mouth to speak, but I stepped forward, tipping my head up to rail at him. "I am quite disappointed that you have revealed yourself to be so thoroughly conventional in your philosophy. Have I not proven myself a capable partner?" I demanded. "Have I not stood, side by side, with you, facing peril with equal courage? If you thought for a moment that I would be the meek, quiet, obedient sort of woman who would sit quietly at home mending your socks while you ~ Deanna Raybourn

All this subterfuge in order to talk to me could have been prevented if you'd just ridden with me earlier today, when I asked."
"Really?" She smoothed his disordered hair, which was sticking up at all angles. "You wouldn't have spent the entire trip detailing reasons why I 'must' marry you?"
He flinched. "I'm sorry, Jane. Apparently, when I find myself with my back to the wall, I bark orders."
"I know." She straightened his cravat. "And in case you hadn't noticed, I don't do well with men who bark orders or make plans for me. It makes me want to shove them off a cliff."
"Or refuse to marry them?"
"That, too."
"Then I can see it's a habit I shall have to break, if I am to keep you happy." He glanced away. "Sometimes it's just…I don't know…easier to bark orders than to ask. Safer. No one has a chance to say no."
It hit her then. That was precisely why he felt more comfortable ordering people about, setting up plans, being in charge. Because when he wasn't in control, there was a chance he'd be left out in the cold. Left in a house with oblivious servants and a brother who despised him for taking his mother away by the simple fact of being born.
Left alone. Her poor, dear love.
Jane kept her eyes trained on his cravat. "But if you don't ever give people a chance to say no, you can never know if they will rise to the occasion or not."
He tipped up her chin until she was staring into his eyes. "I wronged you terribly by not trustin ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Hetty was awakened from a doze in a chair by the sound of a door opening. She was about to make herself known to whoever had entered the library when someone else entered, too, and she heard Minerva say, "Well? What do you think? Am I right about Oliver and Miss Butterfield?"
Shrinking into the chair, she prayed she wouldn't be noticed in the corner.
"It certainly looks that way." It was Jarret's voice. "He does seem to have genuine feelings for her. I've never witnessed him act like that over a woman. You should have seen him-ready to strike me when I suggested going after her myself."
"What a brilliant touch!" Minerva cried. "I told you he liked her. And I'll hazard a guess that she likes him, too. I went up to her room after they got back, and she blushed furiously when I asked if Oliver had behaved himself."
"That's the problem. Liking her is one thing, but whether he'll act on the attraction honorably is another matter entirely. Oliver isn't used to being around a woman he's not allowed to…er…"
"Take to bed."
Hetty blinked.
"My God, Minerva, don't say things like that! You're not supposed to know about such matters."
"Pish posh. I could hardly grow up with a rogue for a father and three rogue brothers without hearing a few things."
Hetty had to chomp on the inside of her cheek to stifle her laugh.
"Well, at least pretend you don't know, will you?" Jarret grumbled. "One day you'll say something like that in public and give ~ Sabrina Jeffries

I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson. I took a deep breath. I picked up the mythology book. I'd never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me some pointers. At least I could apologize for the big fat F I was about to score on his exam. I didn't want to leave Yancy Academy with him thinking I hadn't tried. I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor. I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice that was definitely Grover's said " ... worried about Percy, sir." I froze. I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking about you to an adult. I inched closer. ~ Rick Riordan

Emma," he said, reaching for her hand. "I will never, never give up on you."
It was a strange irony, she thought, a terrible irony that because she loved him so much and knew him so well, she knew exactly what she had to do to destroy everything he felt for her, in a single blow.
She pulled away from him and started back toward the house. "Yes," she said. "You will. ~ Cassandra Clare

Then, while the other members of my family were waiting in the living room, my mom pulled me aside at the top of the stairs.

"Before it gets too crazy, I need to tell you something," she said...

"Elizabeth, what this man has done is terrible. There aren't any words that are strong enough to describe how wicked and evil he is! He has taken nine months of your life that you will never get back again. But the best punishment you could ever give him is to be happy. To move forward with your life. To do exactly what you want. Because, yes, this will probably go to trial and some kind of sentencing will be given to him and that wicked woman. But even if that's true, you may never feel like justice has been served or that true restitution has been made.

"But you don't need to worry about that. At the end of the day, God is our ultimate judge. He will make up to you every pain and loss that you have suffered. And if it turns out that these wicked people are not punished here on Earth, it doesn't matter. His punishments are just. You don't ever have to worry. You don't ever have to even think about them again. ...

"You be happy, Elizabeth. Just be happy. If you go and feel sorry for yourself, or if you dwell on what has happened, if you hold on to your pain, that is allowing him to steal more of your life away. So don't you do that! Don't you let him! There is no way he deserves that. Not one more second of your life. You keep every second ~ Elizabeth Smart

Here's what I learned over the years. Know the mission, what is expected of you and your people. Get to know those people, their attitudes and expectations. Visit all the shops and sections. Ask questions. Don't be shy. Learn what each does, how the parts fit into the whole. Find out what supplies and equipment are lacking, what the workers need. To whom does each shop chief report? Does that officer really know the people under him, is he aware of their needs, their training? Does that NCO supervise or just make out reports without checking facts? Remember, those reports eventually come to you. Don't try to bullshit the troops, but make sure they know the buck stops with you, that you'll shoulder the blame when things go wrong. Correct without revenge or anger. Recognize accomplishment. Reward accordingly. Foster spirit through self-pride, not slogans, and never at the expense of another unit. It won't take long, but only your genuine interest and concern, plus follow-up on your promises, will earn you respect. Out of that you gain loyalty and obedience. Your outfit will be a standout. But for God's sake, don't ever try to be popular! That weakens your position, makes you vulnerable. Don't have favorites. That breeds resentment. Respect the talents of your people. Have the courage to delegate responsibility and give the authority to go with it. Again, make clear to your troops you are the one who'll take the heat. ~ Robin Olds

Your brother Robb has been crowned King in the North. You and Aemon have that in common. A king for a brother." said Mormont.

"And this too," said Jon. "A vow."

The Old Bear gave a loud snort, and the raven took flight, flapping in a circle about the room. "Give me a man for every vow I've seen broken and the Wall will never lack for defenders."

"I've always known that Rob will be Lord of Winterfell."

Mormont gave a whistle, and the bird flew to him again and settled on his arm. "A lord's one thing, a king's another. They will garb your brother Robb in silks, satins, and velvets of a hundred different colors, while you live and die in black ringmail. He will wed some beautiful princess and father sons on her. You'll have no wife, nor will you ever hold a child of your own blood in your arms. Robb will rule, you will serve. Men will call you a crow. Him they'll call `Your Grace'. Singers will praise every little thing he does, while your greatest deeds all go unsung. Tell me that none of this troubles you, Jon… and I'll name you a liar, and know I have the truth of it."

Jon drew himself up, taut as a bowstring "And if it did trouble me, what might I do, bastard as I am?"

"What will you do?" Mormont asked. "Bastard as you are."

"Be troubled," said Jon, "and keep my vows. ~ George R.R. Martin

He asked me innocently, what then had brought me to his home, and without a minutes hesitation I told him an astounding lie. A lie which was later to prove a great truth. I told him I was only pretending to sell the encyclopedia in order to meet people and write about them. That interested him enormously, even more than the encyclopedia. He wanted to know what I would write about him, if I could say.

It's taken me twenty years to answer that question, but here it is. If you would still like to know, John Doe of the city of Bayonne, this is it. I owe you a great deal, because after that lie I told you, I left your house and I tore up the prospectus furnished me by The Encyclopedia Britannica and I threw it in the gutter. I said to myself I will never again go to people under false pretenses, even if is to give them the Holy Bible. I will never again sell anything, even if I have to starve.

I am going home now and I will sit down and really write about people and if anybody knocks at my door to sell me something, I will invite him in and say "Why are you doing this?" and if he says it is because he needs to make a living I will offer him what money I have and beg him once again to think what he is doing. I want to prevent as many men as possible from pretending that they have to do this or that because they must earn a living. It is not true. One can starve to death, it is much better. Every man who voluntarily starves to death jams another cog in the aut ~ Henry Miller

Sometimes I forget this insoluble mess and dream: he'll save me, we'll travel; we'll hunt in the deserts, we'll sleep on the pavements of strange cities, carelessly, without his guilt, without my pain. Or else I'm going to wake up and all the human laws and customs of this world will have changed - thanks to some magical power - or this world, without changing, will let me feel desire and be happy and carefree.
What did I want from him who hurt me more than I thought it was possible for two people to hurt each other? I wanted the adventures found in kids' books. He couldn't give me these because he wasn't able to. Whatever did he want from me? I never understood. He told me he was just average: average regrets, average hopes. What do I care about all that average shit that has nothing to do with adventure? ~ Kathy Acker

Mikhail would be going into a dangerous situation, and a part of her knew he needed most of the night to complete his tasks, but there was no sign of impatience in him. He appeared relaxed and enjoying his time with her, wholly focused on her alone. She appreciated that in him so much--that ability to give her what she needed.
He lifted his head and looked at her. "You always come first with me, Raven."
"I don't know how I managed to get so lucky." She trailed her fingers through his hair. All that dark silk intrigued her. She had never really seen men who wore their hair long and yet still looked so masculine.
"That you can say that after all that has happened amazes me," Mikhail said. He dipped his head to taste the small indent of her belly button. His chin nuzzled her. "Someday my child will grow right here."
"You'd like that, would you? I might get as big as a house."
Mikhail kissed her tummy again and then kissed the path to her breasts. "You will have milk for our babies. That is such a miracle, Raven."
She heard the ache in his voice. The need. He didn't quite believe they would manage to have children, not when his people had been unable to do so for centuries, but he was willing to dream of it--with her.
"We'll find a way to have children, Mikhail. You managed to convert me without becoming deranged." There was gentle humor in her voice.
Mikhail's head went up, his dark eyes meeting hers.
Raven laughed softly. "Did you th ~ Christine Feehan

I will not mention the name (and what bits of it I happen to give here appear in decorous disguise) of that man, that Franco-Hungarian writer... I would rather not dwell upon him at all, but I cannot help it - he is surging up from under my pen. Today one does not hear much about him; and this is good, for it proves that I was right in resisting his evil spell, right in experiencing a creepy chill down my spine whenever this or that new book of his touched my hand. The fame of his likes circulates briskly but soon grows heavy and stale; and as for history it will limit his life story to the dash between two dates. Lean and arrogant, with some poisonous pun ever ready to fork out and quiver at you, and with a strange look of expectancy in his dull brown veiled eyes, this false wag had, I daresay, an irresistible effect on small rodents. Having mastered the art of verbal invention to perfection, he particularly prided himself on being a weaver of words, a title he valued higher than that of a writer; personally, I never could understand what was the good of thinking up books, of penning things that had not really happened in some way or other; and I remember once saying to him as I braved the mockery of his encouraging nods that, were I a writer, I should allow only my heart to have imagination, and for the rest rely upon memory, that long-drawn sunset shadow of one's personal truth.

I had known his books before I knew him; a faint disgust was already replacing the ~ Vladimir Nabokov

"Darren wasn't darkness, and I wasn't his light.
I needed to show him he was fire. My fire. Something filled with light. Something good. Something just like my but wrapped up so tightly in his own barrier of darkness it could burn. Unless you knew how to unravel him.
Pressing my lips to his I shut my eyes and channelled my one single promise.
I will never give up on you." ~ Rachel E. Carter

Peter pushed off from the roof and stalked a few feet away, his back to her. "Please tell me this is all some kind of a sick joke."
"It's the truth. All of it. That's why hunters are after me."
"How did they find out?" Peter asked, swiveling toward her now.
"I think Beck ratted me out. I went to his house this morning and told him what had happened. He was furious, Peter. I've never seen anyone that angry."
"Duh! Now there's a surprise," her friend replied sarcastically. "I saw the way he looked at you at your dad's funeral. Of course he'd be mad. You're about the only one on the planet who doesn't realize how he feels about you."
"He never said anything," she retorted.
"Hey, we guys don't blurt out that kind of stuff," he replied. "It's against the man code. Beck may never have said how he felt, but everything he did for you should have been a big clue. I mean, come on, how slow are you?"
She glowered at her friend. "I figured he was doing it because of my father."
"Maybe, but the guy is really into you, Riley."
"No way. If he'd liked me, he wouldn't have blown me off and - "
"Ancient history, girl!" he countered. "You were, what, fifteen? Your dad would have torn him apart if he'd touched you. Beck had no other choice."
"He didn't have to be so mean."
"God, will you listen to yourself?" Peter retorted.
"You have no idea how much he hurt me," she shot back.
"Give it up, will you? You're my best friend, but ~ Jana Oliver

I have never seen one who really loves goodness or one who really hates wickedness. One who really loves goodness will not place anything above it. One who really hates wickedness will practice goodness in such a way that wickedness will have no chance to get at him. Is there anyone who has devoted his whole strength to doing good for even as long as a single day? I have not seen anyone give up such an attempt because he had not the strength to go on. Perhaps there is such a case, but I have never seen it. ~ Confucius