Matthews Thoughts About Daisy Quotes

He had always wanted Daisy, with an intensity that seemed to radiate from the pores of his skin. She was sweet, kind, inventive, excessively reasonable yet absurdly romantic, her dark sparkling eyes filled with dreams. She had occasional moments of clumsiness when her mind was too occupied with her thoughts to focus on what she was doing. She was often late to supper because she had gotten too involved in her reading. She frequently lost thimbles and slippers and pencil stubs. And she loved to stargaze. The never-forgotten sight of Daisy leaning wistfully on a balcony railing one night, her pert profile lifted to the night sky, had charged Matthew with the most blistering desire to stride over to her and kiss her senseless. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Think good thoughts. Or maybe conjure up your perfect guy, I try to list all of the things I want in a guy. Smart. Funny. Chivalrous. What? Mr. Darcy is hot. Great, now I'm thinking about Colin Firth and he's like my dad's age. So wrong. ~ Daisy Prescott

Be grateful for what you have now. As you begin to think about all the things in your life you are grateful for, you will be amazed at the never ending thoughts that come back to you of more things to be grateful for. You have to make a start, and then the law of attraction will receive those grateful thoughts and give you more just like them. ~ Rhonda Byrne

Her feet tingled. One whole hour to forget about the leaky kitchen sink, her father's retirement party, and her mother's relentless questions about it. She closed her eyes. One whole hour to completely unwind and indulge her thoughts in something beside caterers, plumbers, and homicide cases. ~ Lisa Harris

I know that previously I would not have dared to express myself so explicitly about so uncertain a matter. I can take this risk because I am now in my eighth decade, and the changing opinions of men scarcely impress me any more; the thoughts of the old masters are of greater value to me than the philosophical prejudices of the Western mind. ~ Carl Jung

His name was Aaron and he was the answer to all my prayers. ~ Bijou Hunter

the Buddha pointed out correctly 2500 years ago, what we are is the result of our thoughts. Some have said we are the result of our experiences, but I would add that we are the result of what we think about our experiences. ~ Jackson Peterson

Others wonder about the possibilities. Maybe the princess cheated on her prince with a dashing knight, ran away with him to live in the wilds, cheated on him with a neighbouring farmer and ended up working the fields for the rest of her life. These are the people who lie awake at night, frightened by the stars above them, intimidated by how the world keeps turning and it doesn't matter if they live or die. These are the people who attempt to stop those thoughts by painting, or writing, or reading... anything to plug up that hole in the brain that gushes out a constant stream of consciousness. ~ Sarah Dalton

Cletus Byron Winston, you are being rude." I might have my own less than glowing thoughts about my father, but he was my father.

He opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut and did a double take, his eyes narrowing on me. "First of all, how do you know my middle name?"

"Your momma used to use it when you were naughty, when you boys would help her shelve books in the library. 'Cletus Byron! Stop stuffing Astrophysics Monthly down your pants!'"

Cletus grinned. Then he chuckled. His eyes lost some of their zealous focus as he pushed away from the tree and strolled closer. "Oh yeah. She did, didn't she?"

"I felt sorry for Billy, though." I scooched to one side as he sat down. "His name always confused everyone, like your momma was trying to talk to Shakespeare's ghost. 'William Shakespeare, would you please stop Beauford from pulling down his pants in front of the girls?'"

Cletus laughed harder, leaning backward and holding his stomach. "I remember that. How old was Beau?"

"He was ten. He was trying to show us his new Tarzan underwear. I don't think he meant any harm."

"He sure did love that underwear." Cletus nodded and he scratched his beard. "I'm going to have to find him some Tarzanunderwear in adult size."

"So you can torture him about it?"

He pretended to be shocked by my accusation. "Certainly not. I don't torture my siblings."

"Yeah, right." I gave him my ~ Penny Reid

[The photograph is] still a space to reorganize our thoughts about reality and our place in the world. How do you disentangle the surface of reality? ~ Gilles Peress

If there was one thing Tully had always done well, it was to ignore unpleasantness. For most of her life she'd been able to box up bad memories or disappointments and store them deep in the back of her mind, in a place so dark they couldn't be seen. Sure, she dreamed about the bad times, and woke occasionally in a cold sweat with memories on the oily surface of consciousness, but when daylight came, she pushed those thoughts back into their hiding place and found it easy to forget. ~ Kristin Hannah

I believe that food addicts need the same type of support offered to alcoholics and drug addicts. They need to detoxify first first and then learn about their disease, while dealing with the thoughts and feelings that arise once they are off their drug. Quite often, psychological issues do not become obvious until food addicts have been abstinent for a long period of time. That's why ongoing support is needed to prevent addicts from relapsing in a panicky effort to cope. ~ Vera Tarman

Your mind is right now filled with old thoughts. Not only old thoughts, but mostly someone else's old thoughts. It's important now, it's time now, to change your mind about some things. This is what evolution is all about. ~ Neale Donald Walsch

Tugging at his collar to loosen it, he pushed at the half-open door and entered the room.
Miss Hathaway stood near the doorway, waiting with tightly leashed impatience, while Merripen remained a dark presence in the corner. As Cam approached and looked into her upturned face, the panic dissolved in a curious rush of heat. Her blue eyes were smudged with faint lavender shadows, and her soft-looking lips were pressed into a tight seam. Her hair had been pulled back and pinned, dark and shining against her head.
That scraped-back hair, the modest restrictive clothing, advertised her as a woman of inhibitions. A proper spinster. But nothing could have concealed her radiant will. She was ... delicious. He wanted to unwrap her like a long-awaited gift. He wanted her vulnerable and naked beneath him, that soft mouth swollen from hard, deep kisses, her pale body flushed with desire. ~ Lisa Kleypas

We each have old stories we make new again, the things we tell and twine from time to time. Everything we constantly connect to everything else to enter some sort of cosmic passive-aggressive buzz passing over the planet. Entirely original thoughts are as rare as the diamonds born of asteroids. There's talk about talk. For each of us has his or her own amalgam of tales rife with memories, the anecdotes and yarns we spin like rag strips shorn and woven on the tapestry loom of our own histories. ~ Will Irby

My future is always plural. It is always about my mother and my father and my aunties and my sister. ~ Daisy Hernandez

Karen: It was a man's world. The whole world was a man's world but the recording industry .... it wasn't easy. You had to get some guy's approval to do just about anything and it seemed there were two ways to go about it. You either acted like one of the boys, which is the way I had found. Or you acted real girlie and flirty and batted your eyelashes. They liked that.
But Daisy, from the beginning, was sort of outside of all that. She was just sort of "Take me or leave me."
Daisy: I didn't care if I was famous or not. I didn't care if I got to sing on your record or not. All I wanted to do was make something interesting and original and cool. ~ Taylor Jenkins Reid

Paul R. Linde in his 1994 book, Of Spirits and Madness: An American Psychiatrist in Africa. "Major mental illness cuts across all cultures," Linde writes. "Amazingly enough, or maybe not, acutely psychotic people in Zimbabwe appear very similar to those in San Francisco. . . . They suffer from disorganized thoughts, delusions, and hallucinations. The content of the symptoms, however, is very much different . . . Zimbabweans do not report hearing auditory hallucinations of Jesus Christ, rather they report hearing those of their ancestor spirits. They are not paranoid about the FBI, rather they are paranoid about witches and sorcerers."1 ~ Dick Russell

Because if you're tangled up in someone else, if your futures are tied that way, if that's real and if you know when it happens - then it means you know who you belong to, and you know whose fates are tied to yours, whether you like it or planned it or not, whether they still exist in the same world with you or they don't, and I think that's where everything begins and ends. I think that's everything. ~ Kelly Loy Gilbert

He rolled her on the bed and turned so he could look at her. 'Are you hurt?' His stomach lurched in the seconds it took her to answer. 'I'm happy.' She opened her eyes and looked at him shyly. 'I'm glad for this. I'm glad that it was you.' Her tiger's eyes glowed in vibrant gold and green. A surge of possessiveness clawed at him, like talons around his heart. He had wild thoughts about taking her with him. They could keep on running, accountable to no one but each other. She'd never have to marry a man she didn't want. But that was what his life had always been. Ailey needed more. She needed honour, tradition and family. Yet she'd chosen him. She'd given herself without reservation. The knowledge stunned him. It made him believe that he could be more. He kissed her. It was the only way to stop thinking. He was never a thinking man anyway. He kissed her again, then released her lips to move his mouth over her breast, sliding his tongue over her nipple, sucking gently until he could feel her squirm beneath him. He ran his hands over her satiny skin until her breath caught and she whispered his name, her breath fanning soft against his ear. He had never gone hard so quickly. When he entered her moments later, she closed around him and he moved within her, lifting and lowering as he waited for the dark pleasure to overcome him. But it wouldn't. Not completely. Through the slick heat and the unbelievable tightness gripping him, Ailey was there. When he shut his eyes, he saw her fa ~ Jeannie Lin

You think you know someone by looking at his face but what can one face say about the thousand thoughts behind those eyes. ~ Marianne Wiggins

Nope," she managed. "No other questions."
Eleven centuries of captivity. Hung on his hated enemy's study wall. Eleven centuries of not touching. Not eating. Not loving. Had he had anyone to talk
to?
Her face must have betrayed her thoughts, for he startled her by saying softly, " 'Tis no longer of
consequence, lass, but thank you for the compassion. 'Tis nigh over. Seventeen more days, Jessica. That's all."
For some reason his words brought a sudden hot burn of tears to the backs of her eyes. Not only hadn't eleven centuries turned him into a monster, he was trying to soothe her, to make her feel better about his imprisonment.
"You weep for me, woman?"
She turned away. "It's been a long day. Hell, it's been a long week."
"Jessica." Her name was a soft command.
She disobeyed it, staring out the window at the rolling hills.
"Jessica, look at me."
Eyes bright with unshed tears, she whipped her head around and glared at him. "I weep for you, okay?" she snapped. "For eleven centuries stuck in there. Can I start driving again or do you need something else?"
He smiled faintly, raised his hand, and splayed his palm against the inside of the silvery glass. Without an ounce of conscious thought, her hand rose to
meet his, aligning on the cool silver,
palm to palm, finger to finger, thumb to thumb. And though she felt only a cold hardness beneath her palm, the gesture made something go all warm and soft in her heart.< ~ Karen Marie Moning

What is the justice of this world like? It is that the world will call him as God (Bhagwan), the one who has no thoughts about money (wealth), no thoughts of sensual pleasures and one who remains separate from his body at all times. ~ Dada Bhagwan

Let us remind ourselves of the terminology. A theist believes in a supernatural intelligence who, in addition to his main work of creating the universe in the first place, is still around to oversee and influence the subsequent fate of his initial creation. In many theistic belief systems, the deity is intimately involved in human affairs. He answers prayers; forgives or punishes sins; intervenes in the world by performing miracles; frets about good and bad deeds, and knows when we do them (or even think about doing them). A deist, too, believes in a supernatural intelligence, but one whose activities were confined to setting up the laws that govern the universe in the first place. The deist God never intervenes thereafter, and certainly has no specific interest in human affairs. Pantheists don't believe in a supernatural God at all, but use the word God as a non-supernatural synonym for Nature, or for the Universe, or for the lawfulness that governs its workings. Deists differ from theists in that their God does not answer prayers, is not interested in sins or confessions, does not read our thoughts and does not intervene with capricious miracles. Deists differ from pantheists in that the deist God is some kind of cosmic intelligence, rather than the pantheist's metaphoric or poetic synonym for the laws of the universe. Pantheism is sexed-up atheism. Deism is watered-down theism. ~ Richard Dawkins

Before beginning an activity always first empty yourself of thoughts regarding what you are about to do. ~ Frederick Lenz

Why did John Wilkes Booth do it? In My Thoughts Be Bloody young historian Nora Titone is one of the few to have genuinely explored this question. In doing so, she has crafted a fascinating psychological drama about one of the central events of the Civil War: the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. This book promises to stimulate lively historical debate, and will be a treat for every Civil War buff who always pondered that haunting question, "what made him pull that trigger?" Bravo on a marvelous achievement. ~ Jay Winik

Do you think you can can change anything?'
'Of course not. We're waiting.'
'For what?'
'Until the world changes on its own. That is the one truth of history. Everything ends. Civilisations, empires, however powerful and strong. They all end, sooner or later. When it does we will be there, with all the old ideas and thoughts, preserved and ready to blossom. We're not subversives. We do nothing to bring it about, although some are more impatient. Unfortunately the authorities do not bother to make the distinction. For someone like Oldmanter, merely believing society will collapse is a crime in itself. ~ Arcadia - Ian Pears

Love had to be deeper than that, than a glance over tea, which was indicative but not dispositive. ~ Michael Callahan

As one boy said, 'I was thinking all these horrible thoughts about my parents when suddenly it hit me-if they're all that bad, how come I'm so wonderful' ~ Mark Twain

It works...conditioning your mind to see something positive in anything! Anything that happens to you, anything said to you, anything said about you.I have the choice to INTERPRET it in a way that is positive.Surefire way to imbibe Pollyana attitude ! ~ Abha Maryada Banerjee

What else do you want to know?' he asked. Possessed by morbid curiosity, her eyes darted to the scar that cut just over his ear. She'd found it shortly after they met, while he lay unconscious in the grass. He didn't need to ask what had caught her attention. 'I got that in a fight against imperial soldiers. Ask me why.' She shook her head, unable to bring herself to do it. The cocoon of warmth that had enveloped the entire afternoon unwound itself in an instant. 'Are you having second thoughts about being here with me?' He planted a hand into the grass, edging closer. 'No. I trust you.' He was giving her all the time in the world to shove him away, to rise, to flee. Her heartbeat quickened as she watched him. Moving ever so slowly, he braced an arm on either side of her, his fingers sinking into the moss. 'I asked you to come with me.' Despite her words, she dug her heels into the ground and inched backwards. 'I feel safe with you.' 'I can see that.' He affected a lazy smile as she retreated until her back pressed against the knotted roots that crawled along the ground. His boldness was so unexpected, so exciting. She held her breath and waited. Her pulse jumped when he reached for her. She'd been imagining this moment ever since their first duel and wondering whether it would take another swordfight for him to come near her again. His fingers curled gently against the back of her neck, giving her one last chance to escape. Then he lowered his mouth and kissed her.

Jeannie Lin

Our thoughts are mainly controlled by our subconscious, which is largely formed before the age of 6, and you cannot change the subconscious mind by just thinking about it. That's why the power of positive thinking will not work for most people. The subconscious mind is like a tape player. Until you change the tape, it will not change. ~ Bruce Lipton

the moment he'd seen that female he'd forgotten his own name, most of his English vocabulary, and seventy-five percent of his sense of balance.
Instant. Cosmic. Attraction.

-Trez's thoughts about Selena ~ J.R. Ward

All through the day you need to ask yourself "is what I'm about to say what I want to come into my life," because when you say that thought, you're inviting it into your life. When you say "I'll never get out of debt, business is too slow," your inviting lack and struggle in your life. When you say "this problem is too big it's gonna sink me," your inviting defeat and mediocrity. You need to verbalize some new thoughts, new invitations. ~ Mark E. Wilkins

Your thoughts about your circumstances have you down. On the other hand, you can be in one of the biggest battles of your life, and still be filled with joy and peace and victory - if you simply learn how to choose the right thought. It's time to think about what you're thinking about. ~ Joel Osteen

I know of no actor who is so pure onstage that he thinks only what his character thinks. If he did, he would presumably become the character: a form of madness. This may be of course what happens to Hamlet--he puts on an antic disposition, and gets stuck with it.
[...]
Acting is mostly a twin-track mental activity. In one track runs the role, requiring thoughts ranging from, say, gentle amusement to towering rage. Then there is the second track, which monitors the performance: executing the right moves, body language, and voice level; taking note of audience reaction and keeping an eye on fellow actors; coping with emergencies such as a missing prop or a faulty lighting cue. These two tracks run parallel, night by night. If one should go wrong, then it is likely that the other will misbehave too.
[...]
But there is a third and wholly subversive track that intrudes itself at intervals, full of phantom thoughts and feelings that come and go of their own volition. This ghost train of random musings is, of course, to be discouraged, but it can never be entirely denied. As Bohr and his wife, Margrethe, say in the play: "So many things we think about at the same time. Our lives and our physics...All the things that come into our heads out of nowhere. ~ David Burke