Only My Heart Knows Quotes

Sorry doesn't mean anything! Not when you're still with him. It's not just that you cheated - it's that he's still here, and you're still with him. It just goes on and on, and it hurts every single time I see you with him. I hate it that he makes you smile, and that there's nothing I can do to stop this. I can't think straight, and everything hurts, and nothing makes sense anymore. You're shredding my heart with one hand and stroking his ego with the other. And it's killing me, Faythe. You're killing me. And it's only going to get worse, now that everyone knows. ~ Rachel Vincent

You want to know, but are afraid to ask, whether or not I found someone. If there could be anyone to fill that hole in my heart after I lost him. I did.
"Life is futile," says my new therapist, Michaela,
"and no one gets out of it alive. There is only love. ~ Emma Forrest

It wasn't an awe striking moment; I didn't lose my breath or stumble over my words. It was gradual, like going to sleep. It happens slowly, at first, you're restless, and you think it will never happen, and then the spell of seductive sleep falls upon you. And you're in that wonderful stage of ease and peacefulness where you're still awake but know your being slowly consumed by this wonderful sweet sensation. Then it devours you, and you forget everything else around you, and you just focus on what is going on in the here and now. And there is never one moment during this-this dream that you know with your entire mind that it's true. Your body knows, your heart knows but not your mind. Your mind is the only thing unaware of this action, it's helpless, and so it relies on every other part of the body to make the right decisions. The sad part? The mind doesn't even know it's helpless, but it doesn't matter, because in those moments when you're under that spell, the brain couldn't be happier. ~ Aliza Bell

There is only him and me and this thing between us that I cannot name, not out loud, but that my heart knows is love. ~ Beth Revis

(To The Youth) ... you know and everybody knows that life has failed to bring the light of hope to my eyes, draw a smile on my face, and create joy in my heart. You know and everybody knows that being tortured for you, being imprisoned for you and suffering for your sake has been the only joy I have ever had ... it is from your joy that I feel comfort, it is your freedom that brings the light of hope to my sight, it is your comfort that I feel relaxed in my heart ... I cannot speak well or write well ... please note the hidden force under my simple lousy words.. please understand ... please understand ! I love you and consider you my only friend; all my life, all the days and nights, every moment of my life is a witness to my love and dedication for you. Your freedom is my doctrine, your success is my affection, your future is my only hope! ~ Ali Shariati

Oh, the need to lay my tongue in the rivers of wine,
To taste of her lust
How a star feels as it bursts infinitely into diamonds
The earth cries, but it is only the heavens that weep for her
The sun needs to rise once more
Cast its loving arms across the mountains and her valleys
And pull her from the shadows
To bathe her in the warmth the heart only knows as love ~ - Morris R. Gates

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning, but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more. ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

Your daughter is delightful!" Sejanus was saying to Aelia. I gripped the edge of the bench and bit my tongue as he spoke. "She is a living testament to the good looks that seem to follow the gens Aelia."
Aelia smiled. "Cousin, you flatter me."
Sejanus had set the tone for the evening with the clear slight against the Gavia clan. "It's only a shame I share the name through adoption- not blood- or who knows how much more attractive I might have been!" Nearby guests laughed at the joke but to me it seemed the true intent was to point out that Apicius had, at least at one time, found him attractive. Sejanus looked directly at Apicius directly as he spoke, a smile on his face.
Apicius gave away nothing. He waved a boy over with a tray. "Have you tried the fried hare livers, Sejanus?"
Apicata jumped up and down and smiled at her father. "May I? May I?"
Her father smiled. Apicata could always melt his heart. "Only one and don't share with Perseus!"
The serving boy lowered the tray so she could reach for the liver but not so low that the jumping puppy could steal treats for himself. She snatched a morsel and popped it into her mouth. I knew what she tasted, a sublime mixture of textures, the crispy breaded exterior and the smooth, sumptuous richness of the liver itself. The combination is unexpected. When I first introduced the recipe, it immediately became a family favorite.
Apicata turned to Sejanus. She did not appear to recognize him from the ma ~ Crystal King

My heart only knows love. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

The most experienced psychologist or observer of human nature knows infinitely less of the human heart than the simplest Christian who lives beneath the Cross of Jesus. The greatest psychological insight, ability, and experience cannot grasp this one thing: what sin is. Worldly wisdom knows what distress and weakness and failure are, but it does not know the godlessness of man. And so it also does not know that man is destroyed only by his sin and can be healed only by forgiveness. Only the Christian knows this. In the presence of a psychiatrist I can only be a sick man; in the presence of a Christian brother I can dare to be a sinner. The psychiatrist must first search my heart and yet he never plumbs its ultimate depth. The Christian brother knows when I come to him: here is a sinner like myself, a godless man who wants to confess and yearns for God's forgiveness. The psychiatrist views me as if there were no God. The brother views me as I am before the judging and merciful God in the Cross of Jesus Christ. ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer

I feel as if it were not for me to record, even though this manuscript is intended for no eyes but mine, how hard I worked at that tremendous short-hand, and all improvement appertaining to it, in my sense of responsibility to Dora and her aunts. I will only add, to what I have already written of my perseverance at this time of my life, and of a patient and continuous energy which then began to be matured within me, and which I know to be the strong part of my character, if it have any strength at all, that there, on looking back, I find the source of my success. I have been very fortunate in worldly matters; many men have worked much harder, and not succeeded half so well; but I never could have done what I have done, without the habits of punctuality, order, and diligence, without the determination to concentrate myself on one object at a time, no matter how quickly its successor should come upon its heels, which I then formed. Heaven knows I write this, in no spirit of self-laudation. The man who reviews his own life, as I do mine, in going on here, from page to page, had need to have been a good man indeed, if he would be spared the sharp consciousness of many talents neglected, many opportunities wasted, many erratic and perverted feelings constantly at war within his breast, and defeating him. I do not hold one natural gift, I dare say, that I have not abused. My meaning simply is, that whatever I have tried to do in life, I have tried with all my heart to do well; that ~ Charles Dickens

Sixsmith,

Eva. Because her name is a synonym for temptation: what treads nearer to the core of man? Because her soul swims in her eyes. Because I dream of creeping through the velvet folds to her room, where I let myself in, hum her a tune so-so-so softly, she stands with her naked feet on mine, her ear to my heart, and we waltz like string puppets. After that kiss, she says, "Vous embrassez comme un poisson rouge!" and in moonlight mirrors we fall in love with our youth and beauty. Because all my life, sophisticated, idiotic women have taken it upon themselves to understand me, to cure me, but Eva knows I'm terra incognita and explores me unhurriedly, like you did. Because she's lean as a boy. Because her scent is almonds, meadow grass. Because if I smile at her ambition to be an Egyptologist, she kicks my shin under the table. Because she makes me think about something other than myself. Because even when serious she shines. Because she prefers travelogues to Sir Walter Scott, prefers Billy Mayerl to Mozart, and couldn't tell C major from a sergeant major. Because I, only I, see her smile a fraction before it reaches her face. Because Emperor Robert is not a good man - his best part is commandeered by his unperformed music - but she gives me that rarest smile, anyway. Because we listened to nightjars. Because her laughter spurts through a blowhole in the top of her head and sprays all over the morning. Because a man like me has no business with this substance "be ~ David Mitchell

He walked out the door and with each step my heart breaks.
He'd be gone for days with long silences between each breath.
I know I'm his one of many and he knows he's my one of one.
The only one who holds him down.
Yet, he still leaves.

He walks through the door and with each step my heart leaps.
He crumbles to the ground in tears telling me he's sorry.
He says he needs me and he's nothing without me.
How can he be so attached and detached at the same time?
I swear, this man loves to see me in pain. ~ J.A. ANUM

My heart is very much alive and in your hands. Do your best not to destroy it.
You are very lucky it isn't it my hands ... The only thing I know to do with hearts is incinerate them!
Ouch! ~ Christine Feehan

Surely conversion is a matter between man and his Maker who alone knows his creatures' hearts. A conversion without a clean heart is, in my opinion, a denial of God and Religion. Conversion without cleanliness of heart can only be a matter of sorrow, not joy, to a godly person. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

How clear she shines ! How quietly
I lie beneath her guardian light;
While heaven and earth are whispering me,
" To morrow, wake, but, dream to-night."
Yes, Fancy, come, my Fairy love !
These throbbing temples softly kiss;
And bend my lonely couch above
And bring me rest, and bring me bliss.

The world is going; dark world, adieu !
Grim world, conceal thee till the day;
The heart, thou canst not all subdue,
Must still resist, if thou delay !

Thy love I will not, will not share;
Thy hatred only wakes a smile;
Thy griefs may wound–thy wrongs may tear,
But, oh, thy lies shall ne'er beguile !
While gazing on the stars that glow
Above me, in that stormless sea,
I long to hope that all the woe
Creation knows, is held in thee !

And, this shall be my dream to-night;
I'll think the heaven of glorious spheres

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Is rolling on its course of light
In endless bliss, through endless years;
I'll think, there's not one world above,
Far as these straining eyes can see,
Where Wisdom ever laughed at Love,
Or Virtue crouched to Infamy;

Where, writhing 'neath the strokes of Fate,
The mangled wretch was forced to smile;
To match his patience 'gainst her hate,
His heart rebellious all the while.
Where Pleasure still will lead to wrong,
And helpless Reason warn in vain;
And ~ Emily Bronte

Brilliance doesn't depend only on talk and flair, even though we're sometimes tempted to believe so. Brilliance depends on believing in the hard work you're capable of doing, but it also depends on believing in your potential, believing in your minds, believing in your heart. Brilliance sometimes relies on believing in your talents before you have any evidence that they're there. What a luxury, to take such an enormous leap of faith, without hesitation!
Because even as I've worked hard year after year for more than twenty years now, as I've polished my work and demanded steady improvement from myself and asked myself to do better, I realize that for all of the concrete skills I've gained, nothing takes the place of truly believing that my ideas and words have a right to be taken seriously. And if I believed enough in my talents years ago to own them, who knows what I could've created? ~ Heather Havrilesky

A maiden was imprisoned in a stone tower. She loved a lord. Why? Ask the wind and the stars, ask the god of life; for no one else knows these things. And the lord was her friend and her lover; but time passed, and one fine day he saw someone else and his heart turned away. As a youth he loved the maiden. Often he called her his bliss and his dove, and her embrace was hot and heaving. He said, Give me your heart! And she did so. He said, May I ask you for something, my love? And she answered, in raptures, Yes. She gave him all, and yet he never thanked her. The other one he loved like a slave, like a madman and a beggar. Why? Ask the dust on the road and the falling leaves, ask life's mysterious god; for no one else knows these things. She gave him nothing, no, nothing did she give him, and yet he thanked her. She said, Give me your peace and your sanity. And he only grieved that she didn't ask for his life. And the maiden was put in the tower. . . . ~ Knut Hamsun

She looked at me like I was suddenly her whole world. I felt that look sear right into my heart. Ain't no one ever looked up on me with such grace, with such trust before, and I felt humbled that she chose to gift it to me
… All anyone ever saw when they looked at me was the white trash ex-gang member from the Heighter-famed trailer park across town.
But not her.
Fuck knows why, but Pix only ever saw more. ~ Tillie Cole

And you still love Marc?"
"More than I can even explain. He's my rock - strong and steady, and ready for anything. He knows what I need before I know it, and he pushes me to work harder, and look deeper, and be better. He challenges me, and infuriates me, and he lights me on fire, deep in my soul. And he has never, ever let me down. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing keeping my heart beating. I love him so much that it feels like I'm dying a little bit every day that he won't smile at me. Or touch me. ~ Rachel Vincent

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go,my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)
I fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)I want no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart) ~ E. E. Cummings

What a strange, sad man is he!" said the child, as if speaking partly to herself. "In the dark night-time, he calls us to him, and holds thy hand and mine, as when we stood with him on the scaffold yonder! And in the deep forest, where only the old trees can hear, and the strip of sky see it, he talks with thee, sitting on a heap of moss! And he kisses my forehead, too, that the little brook would hardly wash it off! But here in the sunny day, and among all the people, he knows us not; nor must we know him! A strange, sad man is he, with is hand always over his heart! ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

You Are Tired (I Think)"

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we'll leave it far and far away -
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and -
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart -
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I'll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I'll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea. ~ E.E. Cummings

An adult female orang-utan cannot defeat an adult male spotted hyena. That is the plain empirical truth. Let it become known among zoologists. Had Orange Juice been a male, had she loomed as large on the scales as she did in my heart, it might have been another matter. But portly and overfed though she was from living in the comfort of a zoo, even so she tipped the scales at barely 110 pounds. Female orang-utans are half the size of males. But it is not simply a question of weight and brute strength. Orange Juice was far from defenseless. What it comes down to is attitude and knowledge. What does a fruit eater know about killing? Where would it learn where to bite, how hard, for how long? An orang-utan may be taller, may have very strong and agile arms and long canines, but if it does not know how to use these as weapons, they are of little use. The hyena, with only its jaws, will overcome the ape because it knows what it wants and how to get it. ~ Yann Martel

Well, every girl with half a brain knows there's only one thing to do when you break up with your man - "
"No, we didn't break up - " Luce said, at the exact same time as Shelby said:
"Change your hair."
"Change my hair?"
"Fresh start," Shelby said. "I've dyed mine orange, chopped it off. Hell, once I even shaved it after this jerk really broke my heart. ~ Lauren Kate

For us, eating and being eaten belong to the terrible secret of love. We love only the person we can eat. The person we hate we 'can't swallow.' That one makes us vomit. Even our friends are inedible. If we were asked to dig into our friend's flesh we would be disgusted. The person we love we dream only of eating. That is, we slide down that razor's edge of ambivalence.
The story of torment itself is a very beautiful one. Because loving is wanting and being able to eat up and yet to stop at the boundary. And there, at the tiniest beat between springing and stopping, in rushes fear. The spring is already in mid-air. The heart stops. The heart takes off again. Everything in love is oriented towards this absorption.

At the same time real love is a don't-touch, yet still an almost-touching. Tact itself: a phantom touching.

Eat me up, my love, or else I'm going to eat you up.

Fear of eating, fear of the edible, fear on the part of the one of them who feels loved, desired, who wants to be loved, desired, who desires to be desired, who knows there is no greater proof of love than the other's appetite, who is dying to be eaten up, who says or doesn't say, but who signifies: I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow. And yet manage it so as to keep me alive. But I often turn about or compromise, because I know that you won't eat me up, in the end, and I urge you: bite me.

Sign my death with your teeth ~ Helene Cixous

He could tell me he loved me, but he doesn't know me the way a lover would; he knows the shape of me, though, the curve of my heart, as I know his. He could tell me he doesn't want to lose me, but we're both already lost, and only the tether between us keeps us from drifting out into the black. ~ Amie Kaufman

Love not often, but forever. It's one of my mother's sayings, and all my life it has been the story of my heart ... Love for my mother; love for my friends; the dark and complex love of a woman for a man. But when Fleur was born, everything changed. A man who has never seen it may think he understands the ocean; but he thinks only of what he knows ... The reality, however, is beyond imagining: the scents, the sounds, the anguish, and the joy of it beyond any comparison with previous experience. That was Fleur. For the first instant, ... I knew that the world had changed. I had been alone and had never know it; had traveled, fought, suffered, danced, fornicated, loved, hated, grieved, and triumphed all alone, living like an animal from day to day, caring for nothing; desiring nothing; fearing nothing. Suddenly now everything was different ... I was a mother. ~ Joanne Harris

The problem is, these days you have to listen to too many parts of your body. Sometimes I go with my gut feeling, some say go with what your heart says - it's only a matter of time before my appendix will have an opinion. This is probably why there are so many helplines these days. No one knows who to bloody listen to! ~ Karl Pilkington

Eva knows I'm terra incognita and explores me unhurriedly, like you did. Because she's lean as a boy. Because her scent is almonds, meadow grass. Because if I smile at her ambition to be an Egyptologist, she kicks my shin under the table. Because she makes me think about something other than myself. Because even when serious she shines. Because she prefers travelogues to Sir Walter Scott, prefers Billy Mayerl to Mozart, and couldn't tell a C major from a sergeant major. Because I, only I, see her smile a fraction before it reaches her face. Because Emperor Robert is not a good man - his best part is commandeered by his unperformed music - but she gives me that rarest smile, anyway. Because we listened to nightjars. Because her laughter spurts through a blowhole in the top of her head and sprays all over the morning. Because a man like me has no business with this substance "beauty," yet here she is, in these soundproof chambers of my heart. ~ David Mitchell

Sometimes I think that my whole life is on film, that my whole life is in print. But it's not like that. There are things which are only in my heart-that no one knows. At last I have decided to tell everything." Diego Maradona ~ Diego Armando Maradona

You hold Mr. Winterborne in esteem, then?"
"I do, my lady. Oh, I know he's called an upstart by his social betters. But to the real London- the hundreds of thousands who work every blessed day and scrape by as best we can- Winterborne is a legend. He's done what most people don't dare dream of. A shop boy, he was, and now everyone from the queen down to any common beggar knows his name. It gives people reason to hope they might rise above their circumstances." Smiling slightly, the housekeeper had added, "And none can deny he's a handsome, well-made chap, for all that he's as brown as a gypsy. Any woman, highborn or low, would be tempted."
Helen couldn't deny that Mr. Winterborne's personal attractions were high on her list of considerations. A man in his prime, radiating that remarkable energy, a kind of animal vitality that she found both frightening and irresistible.
But there was something else about him... a lure more potent than any other. It happened during his rare moments of tenderness with her, when it seemed as if the deep, tightly locked cache of sadness in her heart was about to break open. He was the only person who had ever approached that trapped place, who might someday be able to shatter the loneliness that had always held fast inside her. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Majesty,
A frozen swamp. Icicles on branches and uprooted trees. That was our crystal palace, once upon a time. I was your king and you were my queen. I promised you I'd always try to give you your desires. I meant that. And since you wanted Derek, I tried to get him for you. I tried to get Derek to see how beautiful, sweet and amazing you are, in spite of myself, in spite of my rending heart. He never saw you the way I did, and you never saw me at all. I thought maybe if I found love with someone else, I'd be rid of my feelings for you, but that empty relationship only made me long for you more. I've offered you the most support and devotion a person can give an unwanting heart, but all I get in return are your mocking advances, which blatantly scream and reiterate the fact that you'll never love me. It's been so excruciating to be around you lately. You're always teasing me, and it kills me. That's why I've been so irritable and angry. It's inconceivable to me how you could think I'd EVER hurt you, when all I've been living for is to try and make you happy. Well, I'm done. Your doubt has caused me more pain than anything I've ever known. I always thought we'd be life-long friends, but this fairytale has no happy ending. The crystal has shattered. I can't be your king anymore. Then again, I never really was. I've always been the lowly jester. And everyone knows a fool can never be with a queen.

Goodbye, Alec ~ Courtney Vail

I fall upon the thorns of life, I bleed. And then? I fall upon the thorns of life, I bleed. And what next? I get laid, I take a short holiday, but very soon after I fall upon those same thorns with gratification in pain, or suffering in joy - who knows what the mixture is! What good, what lasting good is there in me? Is there nothing else between birth and death but what I can get out of this perversity - only a favorable balance of disorderly emotions? No freedom? Only impulses? And what about all the good I have in my heart - does it mean anything? Is it simply a joke? A false hope that makes a man feel the illusion of worth? And so he goes on with his struggles. But this good is no phony. I know it isn't. I swear it. ~ Saul Bellow

Her eyes began to shimmer with tears. "You ... you love me?"
His heart seemed permanently lodged in his throat. "More than life. God only knows why you love me, because I sure as hell don't, but I know why I love you. You're my beacon in the darkness, and my compass on a night sea. When I'm with you, I don't want to dance with Death. I want to dance with Life. I want to dance with you. And whatever it takes, I mean to spend the rest of my life trying to deserve you. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

In spite of my study, I have learned. Every grand religion begins in light. Yet only hearts hold light. Pages cannot. I have paper in my hands. Give these words to the world and they will be loved and understood by those who already know their truth. The truth doesn't burn. The truth waits for anyone who wishes to find it ... only these pages will burn. At one with the stars ... with the pages and their love ... one with everything that is, that ever was or will be. One. ~ Richard Bach

So it is hopeless. Is that what you are saying?"
Archer smiled. "Nothing is hopeless, but if he means enough to you that you are willing to put up with him, then I will do what I can to help you."
"Why would you do that?" She took a nibble of delicious frosting as her heart thudded hard in her chest. "You don't even know me."
But what if he could help her convince Grey to rejoin the world?
He raised a cake of his own, the frosting stark white against the tan of his fingers. "Because you are the only woman with the exception of my mother and sister who knows my brother intimately and for some reason still likes him. That's good enough for me. Now, eat some of that cake I was kind enough to fetch you. I wouldn't want you to tell Grey I was a poor companion."
Rose's smile caught on her lips. "Are you suggesting I use you to make your brother jealous?"
Archer laughed. "My dear girl, it will take better men than me to drive Grey into action." His expression turned positively rakish. "But I'm as good a place to start as any. ~ Kathryn Smith

Dear Mama: The reason I didn't write last Sunday was because I was out of town. My friend Pound invited me to spend Saturday and Sunday with him … His parents are very nice people and have always been exceptionally kind to me. Mrs. Pound had prepared a fine meal … After supper Pound and I went to his room where we had a long talk on subjects that I love yet have not time to study and which he is making a life work of. That is literature, and the drama and the classics, also a little philosophy. He, Pound, is a fine fellow; he is the essence of optimism and has a cast-iron faith that is something to admire. If he ever does get blue nobody knows it, so he is just the man for me. But not one person in a thousand likes him, and a great many people detest him and why? Because he is so darned full of conceits and affectation. He is really a brilliant talker and thinker but delights in making himself just exactly what he is not: a laughing boor. His friends must be all patience in order to find him out and even then you must not let him know it, for he will immediately put on some artificial mood and be really unbearable. It is too bad, for he loves to be liked, yet there is some quality in him which makes him too proud to try to please people. I am sure his only fault is an exaggeration of a trait that in itself is good and in every way admirable. He is afraid of being taken in if he trusts his really tender heart to mercies of a cruel crowd and so keeps it hidden and trusts no one ~ William Carlos Williams

How is it possible to live? Life is so hard?'
'You must be harder than life, Firdaus. Life is very hard. The only people who really live are those who are harder than life itself.'
'But you are not hard, Sharifa, so how do you manage to live?'
'I am hard, terribly hard, Firdaus.'
'No, you are gentle and soft.'
'My skin is soft, but my heart is cruel, and my bite deadly.'
'Like snake?'
'Yes, exactly like a snake. Life is a snake. They are the same, Firdaus. If the snake realises you are not a snake, it will bite you. And if life knows you have no sting, it will devour you. ~ Nawal El Saadawi

Even though we've only spent a handful of nights together, it somehow feels like I've always known him. He touches me with the surety of a man who knows exactly how I like to be touched. My heart swells every time our gazes lock together to the point where I feel as if I will burst. ~ J.B. Salsbury

There's a Chinese word that means "soul sister," and that is the word I would use to address you in my heart. Listen to me, soul sister: Fate or luck or destiny already put you through hell once. Please don't make it worse by condemning yourself. There is no choice that would have left you feeling no guilt. Every time I watch Adam struggle to speak, every time I see another child laugh and point at him, every time I watch his face fall as he realizes he is not going to be treated like the other kids, I feel wrenched by guilt just as you did when you heard my story. Life is hard. We make the best choices we can. Condemnation, whether it comes from around you or inside you, only robs the world of another dram of compassion. God knows, we need all the compassion we can get. If you promise to try to forgive yourself, I'll try to forgive myself as well. I think, in my heart of hearts, that there is nothing for either one of us to forgive. ~ Martha Beck

The Prince and Princess. Savona. Tamara. Bran and Nee. Elenet. Good people and bad, silly and smart, they would all be helpless victims.
I'd left my sword in the saddle sheath, but I could still try. My heart crashed like a three-wheeled cart on a stone road. I must try, I thought, as I stepped forward.
"Meliara," Vidanric said quickly. He didn't look at me, but kept his narrowed gaze on Flauvic. "Don't. He knows how to use that knife."
Flauvic's smile widened. "Observant of you," he murmured, saluting with the blade. "I worked so hard to foster the image of the scholarly recluse. When did you figure out that my mother's plans served as my diversion?"
"As I was walking in here," Vidanric replied just as politely. "Recent events having precluded the luxury of time for reflection."
Flauvic looked pleased; any lesser villain would have smirked. He turned to me and, with a mockingly courteous gesture, said, "I fault no one for ambition. If you wish, you may gracefully exit now and save yourself some regrettably painful experience. I like you. Your ignorance is refreshing, and your passions amusing. For a time we could keep each other company."
I opened my mouth, trying to find an insult cosmic enough to express my rejection, but I realized just in time that resistance would only encourage him. He would enjoy my being angry and helpless, and I knew then what he would not enjoy. "Unfortunately," I said, striving to mimic Vidanric's most annoying Court ~ Sherwood Smith

My dearest brother," Marjorie replied with a sorrowful smile. "I am only sorry your heart has been broken."
"Cassius was right to refuse me," Merrick replied even as the words ripped the fresh wound along the seams again. "He was only protecting himself. His reputation."
The words stuck in his throat. Had Merrick thought about the repercussions, he would've chosen a different route last night. He would not have done it so publicly perhaps, for Cassius's sake, no matter what they'd whispered to each other their last night together.
"I do not care who knows. It is only the harm it could do that holds me back. If I could, I would walk proudly by your side."
But what then? It was a jumbled mess no matter the outcome.
Marjorie shook her head. "Cassius was protecting you. That much was evident."
The words only warmed Merrick for a brief instant. He knew Cassius cared for him. But now he understood that the idea of them being together was only a fool's wish, no matter how many times he recited the words of Cas's poem from memory and wished them true with all his might ~ Riley Hart

Okay." I crossed my arms over my chest. "My type has a romantic soul. He'll make my brain and my heart fight over who gets him first. He does what's right, even when it's not easy - actually, especially when it's not easy. He knows the value of discipline, education, honor, and restraint. And his strength of character is the only thing that outweighs the strength of his love for me." Drew's ~ Penny Reid

Like a ghost that dances on the tip of a lit cigarette,
I know what romance is, but it hasn't happened yet.
Watch it floating up to heaven only knows,
Disappearing before you get too close-
It's only smoke. You might say a flame was burning, only smoke--
but my heart is more discerning,
I keep dreaming of a fire
But when I wake up to the cold--
It's only smoke.

Eyes are hypnotizing when they hold you within their embrace.
Words are mezmerizing even when they've got nothing to say.
The game is charming in an empty kind of way.
What's the harm in asking me to play?
It's only smoke. You might say a flame was burning, only smoke--
but my heart is more discerning,
I keep dreaming of a fire
But when I wake up to the cold--
It's only smoke. ~ Jane Monheit

To live as I incline, or not to live at all: so do I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas! how have I still - inclination?
Have I-still a goal? A haven towards which MY sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth WHITHER he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and flippant; and unstable will; fluttering wings; a broken backbone.
This seeking for MY home: O Zarathustra, dost thou know that this seeking hath been MY home-sickening; it eateth me up. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

This seat taken?" My eyes grazing over the only other occupant, a guy with long glossy dark hair with his head bent over a book.
"It's all yours," he says. And when he lifts his head and smiles,my heart just about leaps from my chest.
It's the boy from my dreams.
The boy from the Rabbit Hole,the gas station,and the cave-sitting before me with those same amazing,icy-blue eues, those same alluring lips I've kissed multiple times-but only in slumber, never in waking life.
I scold my heart to settle,but it doesn't obey.
I admonish myself to sit,to act normal, casual-and I just barely succeed.
Stealing a series of surreptitious looks as I search through my backpack, taking in his square chin,wide generous lips,strong brow,defined cheekbones, and smooth brown skin-the exact same features as Cade.
"You're the new girl,right?" He abandons his book,tilting his head in a way that causes his hair to stream over his shoulder,so glossy and inviting it takes all of my will not to lean across the table and touch it.
I nod in reply,or at least I think I do.I can't be too sure.I'm too stricken by his gaze-the way it mirrors mine-trying to determine if he knows me, recognizes me,if he's surprised to find me here.Wishing Paloma had better prepared me-focused more on him and less on his brother.
I force my gaze from his.Bang my knee hard against the table as I swivel in my seat.Feeling so odd and unsettled,I wish I'd picked another place to sit, thoug ~ Alyson Noel

It's only second period, and the whole school knows Emma broke up with him. So far, he's collected eight phone numbers, one kiss on the cheek, and one pinch to the back of his jeans. His attempts to talk to Emma between classes are thwarted by a hurricane of teenage females whose main goal seems to be keeping him and his ex-girlfriend separated.
When the third period bell rings, Emma has already chosen a seat where she'll be barricaded from him by other students. Throughout class, she pays attention as if the teacher were giving instructions on how to survive a life-threatening catastrophe in the next twenty-four hours. About midway through class, he receives a text from a number he doesn't recognize.
If you let me, I can do things to u to make u forget her.
As soon as he clears it, another one pops up from a different number.
Hit me back if u want to chat. I'll treat u better than E.
How did they get my number? Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he hovers over his notebook protectively, as if it's the only thing left that hasn't been invaded. Then he notices the foreign handwriting scribbled on it by a girl named Shena who encircled her name and phone number with a heart. Not throwing it across the room takes almost as much effort as not kissing Emma.
At lunch, Emma once again blocks his access to her by sitting between people at a full picnic table outside. He chooses the table directly across from her, but she seems oblivious, absently so ~ Anna Banks

By sheer dumb luck, my father was born in the right place at the right moment in time - when the whole region was going through enormous, unprecedented growth. And oh yeah, he also inherited an empire that had already been set up four generations before him. I think he looks down on people like your father - people who are self-made - because at the heart of it he is a deeply insecure individual. He knows he did absolutely nothing to deserve his fortune, and so the only thing he can do is disparage others who have the audacity to make their own money. His friends are all the same - they are frightened of the new money that's rolling in, and that's why they cluster in their little enclaves. ~ Kevin Kwan

No one else will ever know the strength of my love for you. After all, you're the only one who knows the sound of my heart from the inside. ~ Kristen Proby

Love one another, fathers," the elder taught (as far as Alyosha could recall afterwards). "Love God's people. For we are not holier than those in the world because we have come here and shut ourselves within these walls, but, on the contrary, anyone who comes here, by the very fact that he has come, already knows himself to be worse than all those who are in the world, worse than all on earth...And the longer a monk lives within his walls, the more keenly he must be aware of it. For otherwise he had no reason to come here. But when he knows that he is not only worse than all those in the world, but is also guilty before all people, on behalf of all and for all, for all human sins, the world's and each person's, only then will the goal of our unity be achieved. For you must know, my dear ones, that each of us is undoubtedly guilty on behalf of all and for all on earth, not only because of the common guilt of the world, but personally, each one of us, for all people and for each person on this earth. This knowledge is the crown of the monk's path, and of every man's path on earth. For monks are not a different sort of men, but only such as all men on earth ought also to be. Only then will our hearts be moved to a love that is infinite, universal, and that knows no satiety. Then each of us will be able to gain the whole world by love and wash away the world's sins with his tears...Let each of you keep close company with his heart, let each of you confess to himself untiringly. D ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

To readers and museum visitors who are curious to know whether the pain I endured that day was
owing to the death of my father or to Füsun's absence, I would like to say that the pain of love is
indivisible. The pains of true love reside at the heart of our existence; they catch hold of our most
vulnerable point, rooting themselves deeper than the root of any other pain, and branching to every part
of our bodies and our lives.
...The anguish of love had disciplined me - brought me to maturity - but
in ruling my mind, it gave me scant latitude to use the reason that maturity had brought me. A man like
me, too long captive to a destructive passion, will continue on the course his reason tells him is wrong,
even if he knows it will bring him to sorrow; in time, he'll see only more and more clearly how wrong was
his path. In such situations there is an interesting phenomenon rarely remarked upon: Even on our worst
days, our reason does not stop speaking to us; even if unequal to the power of our passion, it continues
to whisper with merciless candor that our actions will serve no purpose but to heighten our love, and
therefore our pain. ~ Orhan Pamuk

Throughout my life, I never sought retribution against those who hurt me because I believe in forgiveness. I have practiced forgiving, just as I want to be forgiven. Only God knows what's in a person's heart, his true intentions. He sees and hears all things. ~ Muhammad Ali

There are two dedications. The first is Jessica's. To my precious children, Madalina, Ashur, Isabelle, and Grace, No mother could love her children more than I love you. Each of you is truly a gift from God that I cherish more than anything else in this world. And to Amy Sarah, my Beloved Princess. I only held you once, but you live on forever in my heart. Even you have a story." Kayne paused and bussed her temple before continuing. "The second dedication is from Darcy's kids. I may call you Mom, Grandma, Aunt, or some other name, the title doesn't matter to my heart. It only knows that it loves you. Happy Mother's Day. ~ Julieanne Reeves

My type has a romantic soul. He'll make my heart and my brain fight over who gets him first. He does what's right, even when it's not easy - actually, especially when it's not easy. He knows the value of discipline, education, honor, and restraint. And his strength of character is the only thing that out weighs the strength of his love for me. ~ Penny Reid

No Child of Yours

I saw a child hide in the corner
So I went and asked her name
She was so naive and so petite
With such a tiny frame.

'No one,' she replied, that's what I am called
I have no family, no one at all
I eat, I sleep, I get depressed
There is no life, I have nothing left.'

'Why hide in the corner?' I had to ask twice
Because I've been hurt, it not very nice
I tried to stop it, it was out of my control
I feared for myself I wanted to go.

I begged for my sorrow to disappear
I turned in my bed, oh God, I knew they were near
'So come on little girl, where do you go
A path ahead, or a path to unknown?'

With that she arose, her head hung low
She held herself for only she knows
Her tears held back, her heart like ice
It looks as though she has paid the price.

The ice started melting, her tears to flow
The memories flood back, still so many years to go
The pain, the anger all built up inside
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

It will get better, just wait and see
You'll get a life, though you'll never be fire
Open your heart and love yourself
The abuse you suffered was NOT your fault. ~ Teresa Cooper

Just last week I was telling a dear friend how I'd rather not exist in a world where toxic thrives. There are so much enmity plaguing this creed, how we hurt others because we think our idea of faith is supreme, how our interpretation of knowledge is above theirs, how every little whisper we turn into a howl. We forget that only He knows. Our existence are but mysteries; who are we to scar, to burn, to leave marks, to solve this enigma for others, to play God.

The Friday prayer sermon just this afternoon, spoke to me in such illuminating affirmations. Knowledge, especially in faith, is akin to Light. Light binds, not divides. We seek light not out of fear of the darkness but at a promise to gain clarity. This is our intimate journey, how we move towards that Light is ours to make. Like a blind man, like moths at night, a child yearning, just do not stand in their paths, my friend. Your forehead kisses the same Earth like they do, your knees bend the same curve, and each night, your spine collapses just the same. Do not be the lips that question an arm sleeved with tattoos or hair uncovered by cloth or sins not yours, instead be lips that observes silence, kindness and always, prayers for all. I hope your heart does not make space for words like "Kafir", "infidel", "shirk" and instead be a room with gardens and an ocean of calmness. Even our Beloved won't be a judge for another being; Let God

You seek knowledge not to draw boundaries between yourself and ~ Noor Iskandar