I Wish You Every Happiness Quotes

She felt as if she had been crying without end for minutes now.
Yet this parting, this final farewell ...
Aelin looked at Chaol and Dorian and sobbed. Opened her arms to them, and wept as they held each other.
"I love you both," she whispered. "And no matter what may happen, no matter how far we may be, that will never change."
"We will see you again," Chaol said, but even his voice was thick with tears.
"Together," Dorian breathed, shaking. "We'll rebuild this world together."
She couldn't stand it, this ache in her chest. But she made herself pull away and smile at their tear-streaked faces, a hand on her heart. "Thank you for all you
have done for me."
Dorian bowed his head. "Those are words I'd never thought I'd hear from you."
She barked a rasping laugh, and gave him a shove. "You're a king now. Such
insults are beneath you."
He grinned, wiping at his face.
Aelin smiled at Chaol, at his wife waiting beyond him. "I wish you every happiness," she said to him. To them both.
Such light shone in Chaol's bronze eyes - that she had never seen before.
"We will see each other again," he repeated.
Then he and Dorian turned toward their horses, toward the bright day beyond the castle gates. Toward their kingdom to the south. Shattered now, but not forever.
Not forever. ~ Sarah J. Maas

I sometimes wish my childhood had been less obsessed with the question of why we are here. But that must be the question of any childhood. To write about your mother and father is to tell the story of your own close call, to count all the ways you never should have existed. To write about home is to write about how you dropped from space, dragging ellipses behind you like a comet, and how you entered your country and state and city, and finally your four-cornered house, and finally your mother's body and finally your own. From the galaxy to the grain and back again. From the fingerprint to the grand design. Despite all the conspiracies of the universe, we are here; every moment we are here we arrive. ~ Patricia Lockwood

I wish you could invent some means to make me at all happy without you. Every hour I am more and more concentrated in you; everything else tastes like chaff in my mouth. ~ John Keats

Once upon a time there was a boy who knew what he was going to be from the very moment he was born. As soon as he was able to talk, he told everyone, I am a builder of dreams. No one in his family had any idea what that meant, except maybe his Aunt Dorothy, who knew about dreams & how they form you into the thing you're going to be, even when you think you have other plans.

The rest of his family did things like work with numbers & fix old cars & bake bread in a bakery. When he first told them what he was going to be, they thought it was cute & then, when it didn't stop, it was something not to be mentioned at family gatherings & finally, it was something that would lead to personal suffering if he didn't start getting his head on straight, by god. So, he stopped saying it out loud, but he never forgot & when he got older, he moved away & his family told the neighbors he was working as a manager & every one nodded & was pleased that he'd finally come around to viewing life as it was & not how you wish it would be.

But he didn't really care because he was building things of air & sunlight & the laughter of children & the sharp smell of lighter fluid at a summer barbecue & the flash of color on the throat of a hummingbird & all of them were things that had no real name, but people felt them all the same. They felt them all the same... ~ Brian Andreas

Just A Dream Lyrics

I was thinkin about her
thinkin about me
thinkin about us
what we gunna be
open my eyes...
it was only just a dream

so i travel back down that road
wish you come back
no one knows
i realize, it was only just a dream

i was at the top
now its like i'm in the basement
number 1 spot
now shes finding a replacement
i swear now i cant take it
knowing somebodys got my baby

now you wait around, baby i cant think
i should put it down, shoulda got that ring
cuz i can still feel it in the air
see your pretty face
run my fingers through her hair

my love
my life
my shawty
my wife
she left me, i'm tight
cuz i knew that it just aint right

i was thinkin about her
thinkin about me
thinkin about us
where we gunna be
open my eyes...
it was only just a dream

so i travel back down that road
wish you come back
no one knows
i realize, it was only just a dream

and i be ridin
and i swear i see your face and every time
i try to get my usher on but i cant let it burn
and i just hope that she notice she the only one i yearn for
no more sooner will i learn

didn't give her all my love
i guess now i got my payback
now i'm in the club thinking all about my baby
hey
she was so easy to love
but wait, i ~ Nelly

I can feel his presence here in every stone he has touched, every person he has lifted up, every street and alley and city that he has changed in the few years of his life, because he is the Republic, he is our light, and I love you, I love you, until the day we meet again I will hold you in my heart and protect you there, grieving what we never had, cherishing what we did. I wish you were here.
I love you, always. ~ Marie Lu

female

i hope the future really is you
not soft, but softer,
alternative mainstreamed left sided divinely
feminine.
a woman is a man with a whoa.
exponentially deeper internal seas,
wish i had a submarine
to explore your ocean floors.
smarter because she has to be
vulnerable empathy with force,
taught remorseful but she has nothing to
apologize for, she deserves the sorriest.
everything comes first from you
every single one born from them
by me she is love, loved, loving
in the origin of power,
you are who i try to be,
feminist.
you
wondered woman,
wonderful you. ~ Nico Tortorella

Every hardship is like being in prison. People feel imprisoned by ill-health, marital discord, financial insecurity, family disputes and other problems. To anyone who feels imprisoned by life's problems I would say: be content with what you already have and never lose hope of things getting better. Be happy with your share because this is a quality of someone who truly loves Allah. When the Companion Muadh ibn Jabal (ra) was undergoing the pangs and agonies of death, he cried out, O Allah! Bear witness that I love You, so do with me whatsoever You wish! ~ Babar Ahmad

You did not kill Silas Stone, or Zannah's child. The war killed both of them. You must accept that." "But I might have saved them. There was a man, Jesse, he handed me a gun, and I handed it back to him. I valued my principles more than I valued their lives. And the outcome is, they are slaves again, or dead." "You are not God. You do not determine the outcome. The outcome is not the point." "Then what, pray, is the point?" His voice was a dry, soft rattle, like a breeze through a bough of dead leaves. "The point is the effort. That you, believing what you believed - what you sincerely believed, including the commandment 'thou shalt not kill' - acted upon it. To believe, to act, and to have events confound you - I grant you, that is hard to bear. But to believe, and not to act, or to act in a way that every fiber of your soul held was wrong - how can you not see? That is what would have been reprehensible." And even as I said this, I knew that if I stood again in the cattle show ground, and heard him promise to go to war, I would hold my piece, again, even knowing what terrible days were to follow. For to have asked him to do otherwise would have been to wish him a different man. And I knew then that I loved this man. This inconstant, ruined dreamer. ~ Geraldine Brooks

Religion is a totalitarian belief. It is the wish to be a slave. It is the desire that there be an unalterable, unchallengeable, tyrannical authority who can convict you of thought crime while you are asleep, who can subject you to total surveillance around the clock every waking and sleeping minute of your life, before you're born and, even worse and where the real fun begins, after you're dead. A celestial North Korea. Who wants this to be true? Who but a slave desires such a ghastly fate? I've been to North Korea. It has a dead man as its president, Kim Jong-Il is only head of the party and head of the army. He's not head of the state. That office belongs to his deceased father, Kim Il-Sung. It's a necrocracy, a thanatocracy. It's one short of a trinity I might add. The son is the reincarnation of the father. It is the most revolting and utter and absolute and heartless tyranny the human species has ever evolved. But at least you can f#$%ing die and leave North Korea! ~ Christopher Hitchens

As she chats away, the candlelight is reflected in her pupils, making them shine like cats' eyes. When she smiles, her nose crinkles and dimples appear in her cheeks. I look at her, stare at her, and I think: I wish I could pick you up and put you in my pocket. I wish I could carry you with me all the time, safe and warm. I wish there was a way I could be with you all the time, every hour of every day. Each time you smile, it's like the first time all over again, and my heart flutters in my chest. I want to reach out and hold you – it's like a physical ache. I want to stroke your face and kiss your eyelashes and feel your skin and smell your hair. I love you. I love you so much. And it hurts. I don't know why. ~ Tabitha Suzuma

I will make them pay. Each and every one of them. I will get revenge on every last one of them and make them wish they were never born. And when I'm done, and I won't be done until they suffer, I will leave the job like you wanted and raise our child. I love you, Dante, and I will avenge your death. ~ Jaime Whitley

TO MY SISTER

IT is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before
The redbreast sings from the tall larch
That stands beside our door.

There is a blessing in the air,
Which seems a sense of joy to yield
To the bare trees, and mountains bare,
And grass in the green field.

My sister! ('tis a wish of mine)
Now that our morning meal is done, 10
Make haste, your morning task resign;
Come forth and feel the sun.

Edward will come with you;--and, pray,
Put on with speed your woodland dress;
And bring no book: for this one day
We'll give to idleness.

No joyless forms shall regulate
Our living calendar:
We from to-day, my Friend, will date
The opening of the year. 20

Love, now a universal birth,
From heart to heart is stealing,
From earth to man, from man to earth:
--It is the hour of feeling.

One moment now may give us more
Than years of toiling reason:
Our minds shall drink at every pore
The spirit of the season.

Some silent laws our hearts will make,
Which they shall long obey: 30
We for the year to come may take
Our temper from to-day.

And from the blessed power that rolls
About, below, above,
We'll frame the measure of our souls:
They shall be tuned to love.

Then come, my Sister! come, I pr ~ William Wordsworth

In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot–I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation."

Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth's feelings dreadful. At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said:

And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance."

I might as well inquire," replied she, "why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you lik ~ Jane Austen

I used to think I couldn't go a day without your smile. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back.
Then, that day arrived and it was so damn hard but the next was harder. I knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and I wasn't going to be okay for a very long time.
Because losing someone isn't an occasion or an event. It doesn't just happen once. It happens over and over again. I lose you every time I pick up your favorite coffee mug; whenever that one song plays on the radio, or when I discover your old t-shirt at the bottom of my laundry pile.
I lose you every time I think of kissing you, holding you, or wanting you. I go to bed at night and lose you, when I wish could tell you about my day. And in the morning, when I wake and reach for the empty space across the sheets, begin to lose you all over again. ~ Lang Leav

I've been living like this for a long time - about twenty years. I'm forty now. I used to be in the civil service; I no longer am. I was a wicked official. I was rude, and took pleasure in it. After all, I didn't accept bribes, so I had to reward myself at least with that. (A bad witticism, but I won't cross it out. I wrote it thinking it would come out very witty; but now, seeing for myself that I simply had a vile wish to swagger - I purposely won't cross it out!) When petitioners would come for information to the desk where I sat - I'd gnash my teeth at them, and felt an inexhaustible delight when I managed to upset someone. I almost always managed. They were timid people for the most part: petitioners, you know. But among the fops there was one officer I especially could not stand. He simply refused to submit and kept rattling his sabre disgustingly. I was at war with him over that sabre for a year and a half. In the end, I prevailed. He stopped rattling. However, that was still in my youth. But do you know, gentlemen, what was the main point about my wickedness? The whole thing precisely was, the greatest nastiness precisely lay in my being shamefully conscious every moment, even in moments of the greatest bile, that I was not only not a wicked but was not even an embittered man, that I was simply frightening sparrows in vain, and pleasing myself with it. I'm foaming at the mouth, but bring me some little doll, give me some tea with a bit of suger, and maybe I'll calm do ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

When he had finished placing the objects that would be a part of the portrait, the artist asked his subject, "Why do you wish to include the top, milord?" He paused. "I ask this so that I may better understand its place in the portrait." "Because, when it is set in motion, it stands by its own rules. Then it is not an inert thing, like a tree, or a rock." Westcott had smiled. "Ah! But your hand must set it in motion, milord. So it cannot be as independent as you say." "It is the symbol of a soul, Mr. Westcott. Or of a mind. Every man has one, and it is like a top, fashioned by himself. He must keep it upright, by his own hand. He must exert the effort. Otherwise it will topple, and lay inert and useless within himself, not a living thing at all. Or another hand may set it in motion, and then he will have no say in its motion or course." Hugh paused. "This top has sentimental value to me, sir, and I wish to remember it. ~ Edward Cline

Taking us by and large, we're a queer lot
We women who write poetry. And when you think
How few of us there've been, it's queerer still.
I wonder what it is that makes us do it,
Singles us out to scribble down, man-wise,
The fragments of ourselves. Why are we
Already mother-creatures, double-bearing,
With matrices in body and in brain?
I rather think that there is just the reason
We are so sparse a kind of human being;
The strength of forty thousand Atlases
Is needed for our every-day concerns.
There's Sapho, now I wonder what was Sapho.
I know a single slender thing about her:
That, loving, she was like a burning birch-tree
All tall and glittering fire, and that she wrote
Like the same fire caught up to Heaven and held there,
A frozen blaze before it broke and fell.
Ah, me! I wish I could have talked to Sapho,
Surprised her reticences by flinging mine
Into the wind. This tossing off of garments
Which cloud the soul is none too easy doing
With us to-day. But still I think with Sapho
One might accomplish it, were she in the mood
to bare her loveliness of words and tell
The reasons, as she possibly conceived them
of why they are so lovely. Just to know
How she came at them, just watch
The crisp sea sunshine playing on her hair,
And listen, thinking all the while 'twas she
Who spoke and that we two were sisters
Of a strange, i ~ Amy Lowell

You were a part of every wish i had ~ Majed Alaa

It hurt so much when I lost my mother, I know how it feels.' Hilary told a friend whose mother had recently passed away. 'I will never get over it.' In a 2015 interview with ABC News, Hillary got emotional when she mentioned her mother, Dorothy Rodham, who died in 2011. Dorothy grew up in poverty and at eight years old she was sent from Chicago to California to live with her grandparents after her parents divorced. 'She told me every day you've got to get up and fight for what you believe in, no matter how hard it is. I think about her a lot, I miss her a lot. I wish she were her with me. ~ Kate Andersen Brower

Here is something I never expected to feel: love at first sight for an entire family. But life suprises you. It tells you to close your eyes and blow out the candles, and then sometimes smashes your face into the cake before you can even make a wish. But! Sometimes, every once in a while, you get your wish in. You wish for a boy to spend the summer with, and instead life gives you his whole beauiful family. ~ Emery Lord

What have you been doing during my absence?'
'Nothing particular; teaching Adele as usual.'
'And getting a good deal paler than you were - as I saw at first sight. What is the matter?'
'Nothing at all, sir.'
'Did you take any cold that night you half drowned me?'
'Not the least.'
'Return to the drawing-room: you are deserting too early.'
'I am tired, sir.'
He looked at me for a minute.
'And a little depressed,' he said. 'What about? Tell me.'
'Nothing - nothing, sir. I am not depressed.'
'But I affirm that you are: so much depressed that a few more words would bring tears to your eyes - indeed, they are there now, shining and swimming; and a bead has slipped from the lash and fallen on the flag. If I had time, and was not in mortal dread of some prating prig of a servant passing, I would know what all this means. Well, to-night I excuse you; but understand that so long as my visitors stay, I expect you to appear in the drawing-room every evening; it is my wish; don't neglect it. Now go, and send Sophie for Adele. Good-night, my..' He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left me.
(Jane and Mr Rochester) ~ Charlotte Bronte

I lost track of it thereafter. I wish I had a piece of it. That would have been very, very nice. It was one of those little things they get you on the Bond and then suddenly your face is every which way. ~ Pierce Brosnan

Her slender arms instantly circled his neck so that she could press her body against his hard frame. "I am a superstar,lifemate,yet you wish to leave me along at every opportunity. There are men everywhere who would be happy to take your place by my side."
He bent his head, his teeth scraping a provocative rythm over her pulse. Desari went liquid, boneless, her stomach clenching in anticipation. "No, they would not be happy to take my place at your side,cara mia, because I would promptly end their lives in a most unhappy way."
"You are such a caveman, Julian. You look tall and elegant and princely, yet you have not matured beyond the cave." Desari allowed her tongue a brief inspection of the taste of his skin. She closed her eyes to savor the moment.
"I have no intention of rising above caveman mentality," he growled in her ear, his breath teasing tendrils of hair and sending little flames dancing through her bloodstream. "There are so many benefits for the caveman."
"You like playing the part of the dominant male,no doubt," she whispered, her voice so husky with need that his body tightened in urgent, painful response. Her mouth moved over his throat, her hands seeking skin beneath his shirt. "I have a need of you, lifemate, and you are deliberately ignoring your sworn duties to me."
"Little minx. ~ Christine Feehan

I ... God, I don't even know where to start. I'm here. I'm here for you, okay? No matter what. You can scream and you can yell and be as mean and self-destructive as you want. Because I know you're going to be here for me when it's my turn to fall apart. Let them all come, Clint. Let every last one of those tracksuit-wearing sub-verbal bullying murderous scumbags come at us. Because you and me? Together? Together, Clint, I think you and me are the person we both wish we could be. And I know that person ... I know that person is worth something. I know that person can ... can pretty much do anything. ~ Matt Fraction

Hélène Lagonelle's body is heavy, innocent still, her skin's as soft as that of certain fruits, you almost can't grasp her, she's almost illusory, it's too much. She makes you want to kill her, she conjures up a marvelous dream of putting her to death with your own hands. Those flour-white shapes, she bears them unknowingly, and offers them for hands to knead, for lips to eat, without holding them back, without any knowledge of them and without any knowledge of their fabulous power. I'd like to eat Hélène Lagonelle's breasts as he eats mine in the room in the Chinese town where I go every night to increase my knowledge of God. I'd like to devour and be devoured by those flour-white breasts of hers.
I am worn out with desire for Hélène Lagonelle.
I am worn out with desire.
I want to take Hélène Lagonelle with me to where every evening, my eyes shut, I have imparted to me the pleasure that makes you cry out. I'd like to give Hélène Lagonelle to the man who does that to me, so he may do it in turn to her. I want it to happen in my presence, I want her to do it as I wish, I want her to give herself where I give myself. It's via Hélène Lagonelle's body, through it, that the ultimate pleasure would pass from him to me.
A pleasure unto death. ~ Marguerite Duras

I'd be sixteen by now," he said slowly.
"Oh, Magnus!" Ragnor wailed. "That's disgusting! How could you? Have you lost your mind?"
"What?" Magnus asked again.
"We agreed eighteen was the cutoff age," said Ragnor. "You, I, and Catarina made a vow."
"A v - Oh, wait. You think I'm dating Raphael?" Magnus asked. "Raphael? That's ridiculous. That's - "
"That's the most revolting idea I've ever heard." Raphael's voice rang out to the ceiling. Probably people in the street could hear him.
"That's a little strong," said Magnus. "And, frankly, hurtful."
"And if I did wish to indulge in unnatural pursuits - and let me be clear, I certainly do not," Raphael continued scornfully, "as if I would choose him. Him! He dresses like a maniac, acts like a fool, and makes worse jokes than the man people throw rotten eggs at outside the Dew Drop every Saturday."
Ragnor began to laugh.
"Better men than you have begged for a chance to win all this," Magnus muttered. "They have fought duels in my honor. One man fought a duel for my honor, but that was a little embarrassing since it is long gone."
"Do you know he spends hours in the bathroom sometimes?" Raphael announced mercilessly. "He wastes actual magic on his hair. On his hair!"
"I love this kid," said Ragnor. ~ Cassandra Clare

Sometimes I hate this language with its false words like sunset. The sun does not set. It doesn't rise either. It just stays there in one place, yet we get all romantic, huddling on beaches to watch its so-called departure, when it is we who turn away from it, which is a good thing-if the sun could turn, it would never come back, it'd just keep going, look for some better planet to nourish.

Moonlight is another lie. It's a luminescent echo. The moon is a politician whose speeches are written by the sun. I long for a world where witnesses in court must place their hands on a dictionary when they swear. A world where an archer must ask an arrow's permission before loading it into a crossbow. A world with inverted flashlights that shoot out beams of darkness, so you can go to the beach and sabotage sunbathers, rob them of their shine.

A world where people eat animals they wish to emulate. But who the hell am I? I'm just the spark from two people who rubbed their genitals together like sticks in a forest one October night because they were cold. I'm just burning the firecracker at both ends. Every morning I get up and swallow my weirdness pills.

I know the glass is half full, but it's a shot glass, and there are four of us, and we're all very thirsty. I know it's easy not to cry over spilled milk when you've got another carton in the fridge. ~ Jeffrey McDaniel

Everyday I rewrite her name across my ribcage
so that those who wish to break my heart
will know who to answer to later
She has no idea that I've taught my tongue to make pennies,
and every time our mouths are to meet
I will slip coins to the back of her throat and make wishes


I wish
that someday
my head on her belly might be like home
like doubt to doubt resuscitation
because time is supposed to mean more than skin
She doesn't know that I have taught my arms to close around her clocks
so they can withstand the fallout from her Autumn

She is so explosive,
volcanoes watch her and learn
terrorists want to strap her to their chests
because she is a cause worth dying for
Maybe someday
time will teach me to pick up her pieces
put her back together
and remind her to click her heels
but she doesn't need a wizard to tell her that I was here all along

Lady
let us catch the next tornado home
let us plant cantaloupe trees in our backyard
then maybe together we will realize that we don't like cantaloupe
and they don't grow on trees
we can laugh about it
then we can plant things we've never heard of

I've never heard of a woman
who can make flawed look so beautiful
the way you do

The word smitten is to how I feel about you
what a kiss is to romance
so maybe ~ Mike McGee

If your wish is to become really a man of science and not merely a petty experimentalist, I should advise you to apply to every branch of natural philosophy, including mathematics. ~ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

You want to know what you mean to me, Kam?' His lips trail down the curve of my neck.'Every day I wonder when your human life will end, and it scares the hell out of me. ' His words are hot on my skin. 'You make me wish I didn't have forever. ~ Elizabeth May

So while I can spin my fantasy whenever I wish, I'm afraid you wouldn't do for me."
Sarcasm dripped from her every word. "You're good at imagining, so pray imagine my heartbreak. ~ Christina Dodd

Excuse me, please. You do not understand. You do not really understand who it was we talked with in the tent that night. He may have seemed an ordinary man to you – a handicapped one, at that. But this is not so. I fear Benedict. He is the Master of Arms for Amber. Can you conceive of a millennium? A thousand years? Several of them? Can you understand a man who, for almost every day of a lifetime like that, has spent some time dwelling with weapons, tactics, strategy? All that there is of military science thunders in his head. He has often journeyed from shadow to shadow, witnessing variation after variation on the same battle, with but slightly altered circumstances, in order to test his theories of warfare. He has commanded armies so vast that you could watch them march by day after day and see no end to the columns. Although he is inconvenienced by the loss of his arm, I would not wish to fight with him either with weapons or barehanded. It is fortunate that he has no designs upon the throne, or he would be occupying it right now. If he were, I believe that I would give up at this moment and pay him homage. I fear Benedict. ~ Roger Zelazny

The greatest ride in my life was about to come up, a truck, with a flatboard at the back, with about six or seven boys sprawled out on it, and the drivers, two young blond farmers from Minnesota, were picking up every single soul they found on that road - the most smiling, cheerful couple of handsome bumpkins you could ever wish to see, both wearing cotton shirts and overalls, nothing else; both thick-wristed and earnest, with broad howareyou smiles for anybody and anything that came across their path. I ran up, said "Is there room?" They said, "Sure, hop on, 'sroom for everybody." I ~ Jack Kerouac

Ireland Quinn Brady," he finally moved forward with an extended pointer finger to push me back down. "You are exceptional and beautiful and everything I wish I could be. I cant believe that you happened to me, and I promise every tomorrow we have together will be better than the last. This I will tell you over and over and over again until I take my last breath. I love you. ~ Leah Crichton

Truth came home one day, naked and wounded, having been beaten and cursed by the people who did not wish to hear, while his brother Falsehood went dressed in the brightest garments and feasted with every household.
"What shall I do?" cried Truth to the gods. "No man wishes to hear me and all beat me and throw things at me; look, I am covered with dung."
"You are naked" said the goddess Maat, sympathetically. "No naked one can command respect. Therefore take these robes and you will walk without fear and all men will sit at your feet to hear your stories." And she dressed Truth in Fable's garments, and he was welcome at every house. ~ Kerry Greenwood

I don't know how to thank you.'

'You can help someone else down the road, when the time comes.'

Emmy fingered away wetness at her eyes. She knew she would remember that moment for the rest of her life, that moment when someone who barely knew her fulfilled every childhood wish she'd ever had to feel she mattered. ~ Susan Meissner

I wish I could bottle this,' I whispered.
'And drink it every morning.'
'And every day at lunch, and then again at dinner, and before bed.'
'You'd get sick of it,' he said.
I shook my head. 'Never.'
'Seriously,' he said. 'I want to freeze this moment.'
'Good thing you don't need to.'
'No?'
'Will Doniger, there is nothing in the entire universe that could make me stop wanting to be with you. And so on and so forth ad infinitum. ~ Donna Freitas

That I am your heart's secret fills me with song. I wish I could sing of you here in my cage. You are my heart's hidden poem. I reread you, memorize you every moment we're apart. ~ Laura Whitcomb