Miss Gwendolyn Meadows Quotes

Of course, they don't like him! Liking is for ninny-hammers. Real men elicit rancor." Pausing for a moment of deep consideration, she added, "Loathing, even. But never liking."
"Hatred, perhaps?" suggested Mary's brother-in-law, hiding his amused smile behind a tone of excessive gravity.
Mrs. Fustian was not impressed. "Certainly not. Any common laborer can hate. True connoisseurs prefer more subtle shades of aversion. ~ Lauren Willig

If she had been a normal female, she would have swooned. But she was not normal, never had been.
"Good grief, you are impossibly handsome," she said breathlessly. "I vow, I have never experienced the like. For an instant, my brain stopped altogether. I must say, my lord, you do clean up well. But next time, I wish you would call out a warning before you come into view, and give me a chance to brace myself for the onslaught."
Something dark flickered in his eyes. Then a corner of his hard mouth quirked up. "Miss Adams, you have an interesting - a unique - way with a compliment."
The trace of a smile disoriented her further. "It is a unique experience," she said. "I never knew my brain to shut off before, not while I was full awake. I wonder if the phenomenon has been scientifically documented and what physiological explanation has been proposed. ~ Loretta Chase

Miss Anastasia Steele is here to see you, Mr. Grey. ~ E.L. James

What time do you need to be at work tomorrow, Hon?' Lexi asks.
Well, Ruby's back, so nine o'clock.'
What does Ruby being back have to do with anything?'
She's the human stopwatch, remember? Marriage doesn't change everything. ~ Erynn Mangum

Om is not just a sound or vibration. It is not just a symbol. It is the entire cosmos, whatever we can see, touch, hear and feel. Moreover, it is all that is within our perception and all that is beyond our perception. It is the core of our very existence. If you think of Om only as a sound, a technique or a symbol of the Divine, you will miss it altogether. Om is the mysterious cosmic energy that is the substratum of all the things and all the beings of the entire universe. It is an eternal song of the Divine. It is continuously resounding in silence on the background of everything that exists. ~ Amit Ray

Thick is the darkness
Sunward, O, sunward!
Rough is the highway
Onward, still onward!
Dawn harbors surely
East of the shadows.
Facing us somewhere
Spread the sweet meadows.
Upward and forward!
Time will restore us:
Light is above us,
Rest is before us. ~ William Ernest Henley

Life wasn't pretty, but it also wasn't scary until she met a man who touched her without taking and made her miss the pieces she had lost. ~ Cora Carmack

In all the ills that befall us, we are more concerned by the intention than the result. A tile that falls off a roof may injure us more seriously, but it will not wound us so deeply as a stone thrown deliberately by a malevolent hand. The blow may miss, but the intention always strikes home. ~ Jean-Jacques Rousseau

To the enormous majority of persons who risk themselves in literature, not even the smallest measure of success can fall. They had better take to some other profession as quickly as may be, they are only making a sure thing of disappointment, only crowding the narrow gates of fortune and fame. Yet there are others to whom success, though easily within their reach, does not seem a thing to be grasped at. Of two such, the pathetic story may be read, in the Memoir of A Scotch Probationer, Mr. Thomas Davidson, who died young, an unplaced Minister of the United Presbyterian Church, in 1869. He died young, unaccepted by the world, unheard of, uncomplaining, soon after writing his latest song on the first grey hairs of the lady whom he loved. And she, Miss Alison Dunlop, died also, a year ago, leaving a little work newly published, Anent Old Edinburgh, in which is briefly told the story of her life. There can hardly be a true tale more brave and honourable, for those two were eminently qualified to shine, with a clear and modest radiance, in letters. Both had a touch of poetry, Mr. Davidson left a few genuine poems, both had humour, knowledge, patience, industry, and literary conscientiousness. No success came to them, they did not even seek it, though it was easily within the reach of their powers. Yet none can call them failures, leaving, as they did, the fragrance of honourable and uncomplaining lives, and such brief records of these as to delight, and console and encourage us al ~ Andrew Lang

Lest Arab governments be tempted out of sheer routine to rush into impulsive rejection, let me suggest that tragedy is not what men suffer but what they miss. ~ Abba Eban

And speaking of hotties, I have to go," I finish and turn to finish my walk toward Bubby. ~ Gwendolyn Heasley

I'm not going to miss wearing the braces very much. ~ America Ferrera

Miss Wyndham feigned an illness, sneaked out of the house, and walked the London streets unaccompanied for most of the night. At the very least, I'd say she's a better influence on Miss Kent than Lady Kent is. ~ Tarun Shanker

One thing that I miss because we spend a lot of time in America is English food, like cooked breakfast and Sunday dinners. ~ Louis Tomlinson

You don't realize how much you miss human interaction until it is removed from your life. Simple touches go a long way toward providing comfort. ~ Alessandra Torre

Finer feeling, which we now wish to consider, is chiefly of two kinds: the feeling of the *sublime* and that of the *beautiful*. The stirring of each is pleasant, but in different ways. The sight of a mountain whose snow-covered peak rises above the clouds, the description of a raging storm, or Milton's portrayal of the infernal kingdom, arouse enjoyment but with horror; on the other hand, the sight of flower strewn meadows, valleys with winding brooks and covered with grazing flocks, the description of Elysium, or Homer's portrayal of the girdle of Venus, also occasion a pleasant sensation but one that is joyous and smiling. In order that the former impression could occur to us in due strength, we must have *a feeling of the sublime*, and, in order to enjoy the latter well, *a feeling of the beautiful*. Tall oaks and lonely shadows in a sacred grove are sublime; flower beds, low hedges and trees trimmed in figures are beautiful. Night is sublime; day is beautiful. Temperaments that possess a feeling for the sublime are drawn gradually, by the quiet stillness of a summer evening as the shimmering light of the stars breaks through the brown shadows of night and the lonely moon rises into view, into high feelings of friendship, of disdain for the world, of eternity. The shining day stimulates busy fervor and a feeling of gaiety. The sublime *moves*, the beautiful *charms*. ~ Immanuel Kant

Whoever you are, there is some younger person who thinks you are perfect. There is some work that will never be done if you don't do it. There is someone who would miss you if you were gone. There is a place that you alone can fill. ~ Jacob M. Braude

To say of shame - what is it? Of virtue - we can miss it; Of sin-we can kiss it, And it's no longer sin. ~ Algernon Charles Swinburne

How can you miss something you've never really had? ~ Alexis Hall

There are two kinds of prosperity gospels. One promises personal health, wealth, and happiness. Another promises social transformation. In both versions, the results are up to us. We bring God's kingdom to earth, either to ourselves or to society, by following certain spiritual laws or moral and political agendas. Both forget that salvation comes from above, as a gift of God. Both forget that because we are baptized into Christ, the pattern of our lives is suffering leading to glory in that cataclysmic revolution that Christ will bring when he returns. Both miss the point that our lives and the world as they are now are not as good as it gets. We do not have our best life or world now. ~ Michael S. Horton

The advantage of mortality is clear to us, but not to them, and that is why those left behind suffer. They miss the company of their loved ones, but it is the feeling that the deceased no longer exist that hurts the most. This is the cost mortals must pay. Let me put it to you this way: Mortality is better than immortality, but only the immortal have the ability to see this, and there lies both the irony and the cost of human happiness. ~ Eva Pohler

Everybody in St. Mary Mead knew Miss Marple; fluffy and dithery in appearance, but inwardly as sharp and as shrewd as they make them. ~ Agatha Christie

I had acquired an undeniable mystique - if only to the Bancroft butt-room boys. Don't forget: Miss Frost was an older woman, and that goes a long way with boys - even if the older woman has a penis! ~ John Irving

And though it has been in no way a romantic evening, she embraces me and this time emanates a warmth I'm not familiar with. I am so used to imagining everything happening the way it occurs in movies, visualizing things falling somehow into the shape of events on a screen, that I almost hear the swelling of an orchestra, can almost hallucinate the camera panning low around us, fireworks bursting in slow motion overhead, the seventy-millimeter image of her lips parting and the subsequent murmur of "I want you" in Dolby sound. But my embrace is frozen and I realize, at first distantly and they with greater clarity, that the havoc raging inside me is gradually subsiding and she is kissing me on the mouth and this jars me back into some kind of reality and I lightly push her away. She glances up at me fearfully.
"Listen, I've got to go," I say, checking my Rolex. "I don't want to miss… Stupid Pet Tricks. ~ Bret Easton Ellis

I miss the game - I miss it a lot. ~ Joe Montana

I'm Free "

Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free.
I'm following the path God laid for me.
I took God's hand when I heard the call;

I turned my back and left it all.
I could not stay another day

To laugh, to love, to work or play.

Tasks left undone must stay that way,
I found that place at the close of day.
If my parting has left a void,

Then fill it with remembered joy.

A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss.
Ah, yes, these things, I too, will miss.
Be not burdened with times of sorrow,

I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
My life's been full, I savored much,

Good friends, good times, a loved one's touch.
Perhaps my time seemed all too brief;

don't lengthen it now with undue grief.
Lift up your heart and share with me,
God wanted me now, God set me free. ~ Harold S. Kushner

Every life is a story. Every story has mistakes. If you focus too much on the mistakes, you will miss the story. In doing that, you are making a dreadful mistake yourself. Sometimes, it is the mistakes that enrich and give the story so much more meaning than it would have had otherwise. ~ Beverly S. Harless

The next afternoon I left work to find that my car had been broken into and ransacked - but that not one thing had been stolen. I was so insulted that I left a note on the window that read:
Dear Scumbag Thieves,
If you go to the trouble of tossing my car, you could at least steal a lousy pair of sunglasses.
The next day I discovered a gift card lying on the driver's seat with this message:
Here's $500. It's the best we can do until the holidays.
P.S. Get some decent tires, why don't you. We couldn't sell these desperate maypops if we did steal them. ~ Molly Meadows

Far away, in the meadow, shadows flickered in the Mirror's Maze, as if parts of someone's life, yet unborn, were trapped there, waiting to be lived. ~ Ray Bradbury

Sometimes you're so stuck in your own head that you're not -- Well, you're not really living."
My brows rose.
She glanced down at the bowel of popcorn. "Please don't take that the wrong way. It's just that I think sometimes you miss whats going on around you, because you're so worried about what other are thinking about and and your choices." I wanted to argue against that, but I couldn't. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

He was interested in the sudden friendship between two women so apparently dissimilar as Miss Bartlett and Miss Lavish. They were always in each other's company, with Lucy a slighted third. Miss Lavish he believed he understood, but Miss Bartlett might reveal unknown depths of strangeness, though not, perhaps, of meaning. ~ E. M. Forster

I miss you like the sun misses the flowers, like the sun misses the flowers in the depths of winter, instead of beauty to direct it's light to, the heart hardens like the frozen world which your absence has banished me to. ~ William Thatcher

Don't miss a chance at happiness because of your past misery. ~ Dustin Cruz

We cannot master everything, taste everything, understand everything, drain every experience to its last dregs. But if we have the courage to let almost everything else go, we will probably be able to retain the thing necessary for us-whatever it may be. If we are too eager to have everything, we will almost certainly miss even the one thing we need ~ Thomas Merton

Sometimes I miss Boston', I said. It was a timid confession. I missed it every day - its space, its familiar streets and smells. I missed the laughter, I missed the feel of American money which was like the feel of flesh. Reality for me was the past, and it was elsewhere. This - London - was like a role I had been assigned to play, and I was still yet unsure of my lines. ~ Paul Theroux

He called her a MILF, which must be offensive because Miss Castle called him a thug and sent hit out of the room. Gabe, what is a MILF?- Bethany ~ Alexandra Adornetto

Suddenly he spotted Gran deep in conversation with Kitty's closest friend, and relief coursed through him. Gran would squelch the tale at once. And once she tried to quash the gossip, he would win-because he could then threaten to send notice to the papers of his betrothal if she didn't back down. She'd have no choice but to give up on her scheme.
Except…she wasn't acting as if she meant to squelch it. She was talking to the other woman with great animation. And when she met his gaze from across the room, beaming from ear to ear, he realized in a flash that he'd misunderstood everything. Everything.
She hadn't been bluffing him. All the rot about trying to buy Maria off, the disapproving looks and snide remarks…all along, Gran had been goading him toward what she wanted. God preserve him.
With a sickening sense of inevitability, he saw her go to the duchess's side and whisper a few words, then saw the duchess rise and tap her glass to indicate she had an announcement to make. With a triumphant smile, Gran announced the engagement of her grandson, the Marquess of Stoneville, to Miss Maria Butterfield of Dartmouth, Massachusetts.
All eyes turned to him, and the whispers began anew.
He couldn't believe it. How could he have been so blind? He'd lost the battle, maybe even the war. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Chemistry is a funny thing, miss. Sometimes those who are experiencing it aren't always aware they are. ~ Dakota Cassidy

The amazing thing about a long journey is that you can miss exits, run Stop signs, head the wrong way down a one-way street, get lost, misplace your keys, find them, make a U-turn,
and still, somehow, miraculously reach your proper destination. ~ Eleanor Brownn

What's that?"
"My friend St. Clair bought it for me. So I wouldn't feel out of place."
She raises her eyebrows as she pulls back onto the road. "Are there a lot of Canadians in Paris?"
My face warms. "I just felt,you know, stupid for a while. Like one of those lame American tourists with the white sneakers and the cameras around their necks? So he bought it for me, so I wouldn't feel....embarrassed. American."
"Being American is nothing to be ashamed of," she snaps.
"God,Mom,I know.I just meant-forget it."
"Is this the English boy with the French father?"
"What does that have anything to do with it?" I'm angry. I don't like what she's implying. "Besides,he's American. He was born here? His mom lives in San Francisco. We sat next to each other on the plane."
We stop at a red light.Mom stares at me. "You like him."
"OH GOD,MOM."
"You do.You like this boy."
"He's just a friend.He has a girlfriend."
"Anna has a boooy-friend," Seany chants.
"I do not!"
"ANNA HAS A BOOOY-FRIEND!"
I take a sip of coffee and choke. It's disgusting. It's sludge. No, it's worse than sludge-at least sludge is organic. Seany is still taunting me. Mom reaches around and grabs his legs,which are kicking her seat again.She sees me making a face at my drink.
"My,my. Once semester in France, and suddenly we're Miss Sophisticated. Your father will be thrilled."
Like it was my choice! Like I asked to go to Paris! And how dare s ~ Stephanie Perkins

For centuries, no one was concerned that books weren't girl-friendly, because no one really cared if girls read; but even so, we persisted for long enough that literature has slowly come to accommodate us. Modern boys, by contrast, are not trying to read in a culture of opposition. Nobody is telling them reading doesn't matter, that boys don't need to read and that actually, no prospective wife looks for literacy in a husband. Quite the opposite! Male literary culture thrives, both teachers and parents are throwing books at their sons, and the fact that the books aren't sticking isn't, as the nature of the complaint makes clear, because boys don't like reading – no. The accusation is that boys don't like reading about girls, which is a totally different matter.

Because constantly, consistently, our supposedly equal society penalises boys who express an interest in anything feminine. The only time boys are discouraged from books all together is in contexts where, for whatever reason, they've been given the message that reading itself is girly – which is a wider extrapolation of the same problem. ~ Foz Meadows

Aren't you going to look at it, Verity?" asked Miss Deane. Slowly, I unwrapped it. I saw a small, slim girl with serious eyes and a little pointed face, wearing her second-best dress and posed stiffly beside an artificial rosebush. Standing behind her, rising out of a sort of mist, was a fair-haired young man in a white shirt. There was no doubt as to who it was. It was my half-brother Alexander, and he was smiling. ~ Susan Green