Psychoanalyze You But Also Be Nice Quotes

In the distance, I could see Skanda sitting on a pavilion wreathed in lotus blossoms and flanked with serving girls. He was, as I had guessed, fat. And in his golden jacket, he indeed looked like a toad.
"Ah, I remember him," muttered Kamala.
"He's my half-brother."
"Nasty, nasty."
"I know."
"Would you like me to eat him?"
"Definitely not," I said, a little too quickly. I patted Kamala's neck. "But I appreciate your offer. It was almost nice."
"It is nice to be nice," said Kamala with a sage nod. "And it is also nice to eat people," she added as an afterthought. ~ Roshani Chokshi

I actually attack the concept of happiness. The idea that - I don't mind people being happy - but the idea that everything we do is part of the pursuit of happiness seems to me a really dangerous idea and has led to a contemporary disease in Western society, which is fear of sadness. It's a really odd thing that we're now seeing people saying "write down three things that made you happy today before you go to sleep" and "cheer up" and "happiness is our birthright" and so on. We're kind of teaching our kids that happiness is the default position. It's rubbish. Wholeness is what we ought to be striving for and part of that is sadness, disappointment, frustration, failure; all of those things which make us who we are. Happiness and victory and fulfillment are nice little things that also happen to us, but they don't teach us much. Everyone says we grow through pain and then as soon as they experience pain they say, "Quick! Move on! Cheer up!" I'd like just for a year to have a moratorium on the word "happiness" and to replace it with the word "wholeness." Ask yourself, "Is this contributing to my wholeness?" and if you're having a bad day, it is. ~ Hugh Mackay

I'm sorry I started all this by trying to fly and I'd take it back if I could but I can't, so please think of it from my point of view: if you die I will have a dead brother and it will be me instead of you who suffers.
Justin thought of his brother on that warm summer day, standing up on the windowsill holding both their futures, light and changeable as air, in his outstretched arms.
Of course, Justin thought, I'm part of his fate just as he's part of mine. I hadn't considered it from his point of view. Or from the point of view of the universe, either. It's just a playing field crammed full of cause and effect, billions of dominoes, each knocking over billions more, setting off trillions of actions every second. A butterfly flaps its wings in Africa and my brother in Luton thinks he can fly.
The child nodded. A piano might fall on your head, he said, but it also might not. And in the meantime you never know. Something nice might happen. ~ Meg Rosoff

They used to call it the 'Great War'. But I'll be damned if I could tell you what was so 'great' about it. They also called it 'the war to end all wars' ... 'cause they figured it was so big and awful that the world'd just have to come to its senses and make damn sure we never fought another one ever again.
That woulda been a helluva nice story.
But the truth's got an ugly way of killin' nice stories. ~ Max Brooks

Dear PrettyKitty29,

Hi, my name is Liam Brody. From the looks of your charming website, you've heard of me.

Believe it or not, I've heard of you too. I was recently tipped off about your little gossip community. I probably shouldn't call it little. You are one of the busiest gossip communities on the Internet.

Congratulations. I'm always impressed with people who manage to stay indoors so much. You must have a sufficient amount of Vitamin D.

I noticed that you seem to have an odd and probably unwarranted agenda against me. Almost every bitter post about me is put up by lovely you. I also noticed that your hatred has spread successfully among your users.

Wow. What an influence you have on gossip hungry teens and housewives. Again, congratulations.

I apologize for dating models, PrettyKitty29. I just think they're more attractive than other people. Some people steal, some people do drugs, some people sell them. I date models. It could probably be worse. I could be someone who makes bribes.

Speaking of those, I was emailing you to let you know that despite the sarcasm throughout this email, I find your strangely influential website interesting and am willing to make a substantial payment to you if you stop posting negative stories and put a few nice ones instead.

I don't know what a gossip community moderator gets paid, but I'm sure that regardless, you could use a few extra bucks. It would ~ India Lee

After months of separation her friends still catalyzed her thoughts and challenged her opinions and wrangled with her emotions, and she was relieved to see that they still slid into the familiar patterns, the comfortable ruts of long-established personalities. It was nice but it also worried her. Could there be room for growth? How could you change around the people that knew you best, who knew you backwards and forwards and knew you so well that they defined themselves by you and you by them? How could you possibly evolve, like really evolve and become a whole person all on your own, when your own makeup was inextricably intertwined with someone else's perception of themselves? ~ Katie Neipris

There is nothing more vulnerable than caring for someone; it means not only giving your energy to that which is not you but also caring for that which is beyond or outside your control. Caring is anxious - to be full of care, to be careful, is to take care of things by becoming anxious about their future, where the future is embodied in the fragility of an object whose persistence matters. Becoming caring is not about becoming good or nice: people who have "being caring" as their ego ideal often act in quite uncaring ways in order to protect their good image of themselves. To care is not about letting an object go but holding on to an object by letting oneself go, giving oneself over to something that is not one's own. ~ Sara Ahmed

To be honest, at that point, just being so fresh to L.A., I was in the mind-set of just getting work, at all costs. But, if you take a step back from it, it's just such a blessing to be able to play somebody like Glenn. Me being Asian American, it's nice to have something to play that's not so very stereotypical. It's also nice to have somebody that I identify with. ~ Steven Yeun

It would be really wonderful if all this could be a dream," I said.

"Come now, you'll get there. Focus on one aura at a time; that helps. What do you see when you look at me?"

I took a breath. "A kind of idiosyncratic bluish with a happy patch of crimson right around your middle. You're a bit dark - but also very light in funny little ways." I blinked. "There are also notes of a sort of rosy color hanging all around both you and Jenny. No, not rosy, exactly. How would you describe it - a buoyant sort of flush?"

"Buoyant is not a color," said Jackaby. "You sound ridiculous. But an excellent start! The sight will take time to understand. I'm here to help."

"I'm here for you, too, Abigail," Jenny assured me, putting a hand on Jackaby's shoulder as she glided forward to join us. "We can practice together and take it slow. It's the least I could do after everything you've done to help me figure out my own abilities."

I nodded. "It's nice to see that you're not having any more trouble in that area," I said. Jenny's hand was still on Jackaby's shoulder. The flush around their auras increased when I mentioned it.

"I'm not even sure how it happened," Jenny said. "I just needed it to happen, and it did."

"Not surprised about it at all," said Jackaby.

"Not surprised?" Jenny said. "Yesterday I couldn't so much as brush a hair out of your eyes, but today I reached inside your chest and held your heart ~ William Ritter

I realize that I want something more. Success is great, but then you also wake up in your hotel room at four in the morning and you're like, wouldn't it be nice to have someone here with me. ~ Alicia Keys

Not that long ago I wrote in a poem that 'life is so filled with meaning, there is no reason to try to reduce it'. That is how I feel and have felt like for years. Some sense of meaninglessness can come from an attack from others, at times subconscious, slowly but surely eroding one's self-respect and therefore sense of self, on all the meanings, infinite as they are, that are already right there. You can even be "raised" to do this self-destructive work yourself. The so called absurdity of life is a construction that creates a template for meaninglessness in itself. Humans revolting in this way against self-made systems. Perhaps to remove some responsibility of being human, because it is, wrongly, seen as a burden. What is truly a burden is to feel as if nothing in life is important. It is also the easiest thing to do. If you don't find meaning in for instance seeing a black squirrel running up the trunk of a tree, you probably won't find any meaning in travelling to the end of the world. It is a kind of explanatory greed this "search for meaning" that can literally destroy a world, and it is the equivalent of replacing the deepest of life's mysteries with a nice looking garage. To numb before being looked at and experienced as a kind of totally lost "translation" is how the written language can be used at its worst. Meaning is already everywhere, expressing, unfolding itself, living and dying, changing and breathing. The noise distracting from that is what is meaningless bu ~ Rune Kjær Rasmussen

I once heard a man say he knew there was a God, he just didn't think he needed Him. It is nice to take care of yourself and be independent, but it is also nice to know that you have a resource to rely on in times of need. If you are used to fending entirely for yourself, then when a catastrophe occurs you will expend a lot of energy looking for help at a time when you need your energy looking for help at a time when you need your energy for creative work. ~ Bernie Siegel

It would be nice to design a real briefcase - you open it up and it's your computer but it also stores your books. ~ Steve Wozniak

Ah, the trainer with the hands," one of them said. She was very pretty, thick dark hair and even darker eyes. She had a nice body, but it was easy to see she had been having babies. "Lucas talks about you fondly."

Kacey smiled. "Yeah, his shoulder's been giving him shit lately," she said, figuring this must be Fallon, Lucas's wife.

"Yeah, and if you didn't keep him from birching about it, I might have to try and kick your ass. But seeing that he is happy, and you are also a good six inches taller than me and have abs and arms that could squash small children, I'm gonna just say, hey! It's nice to meet you!" she said and everyone laughed as they shook hands. ~ Toni Aleo

I didn't know my dad in person and I never got to say goodbye to him at his funeral and I thought it would be nice to say a few words now that I sort of feel I know him a bit better.' She gave a nervous smile, and pushed a strand of hair from her face.

'So. Will … Dad. When I first found out you were my real father, I'll be honest, I was a bit freaked out. I'd hoped my real dad was going to be this wise, handsome man, who would want to teach me stuff and protect me and take me on trips to show me amazing places that he loved. And what I actually got was an angry man in a wheelchair who just, you know, killed himself. But because of Lou, and your family, over the last few months I've come to understand you a bit better.

'I'll always be sad and maybe even a bit angry that I never got to meet you, but now I want to say thank you too. ". You gave me a lot, without knowing it. I think I'm like you in good ways – and probably a few not-so-good ways. You gave me blue eyes and my hair colour and the fact that I think Marmite is revolting and the ability to do black ski runs and … Well, apparently you also gave me a certain amount of moodiness – that's other people's opinion, by the way. Not mine.'

'But mostly you gave me a family I didn't know I had. And that's cool. Because, to be honest, it wasn't going that well before they all turned up.' Her smile wavered.

' So, um, Will … Dad, I'm not going to go on and on because speeches are bo ~ Jojo Moyes

I bump into a group of girls congregating around a locker. Jessica, Willow (who is notably the only Willow enrolled in our 397-student class and in our 1,579-student school), and Abby. Miney has labeled them in my notebook, in block letters and underlined with a Sharpie:THE POPULAR BITCHES.

When she first used this designation, Miney had to give me a long lecture about how this wasn't an oxymoron, how someone could be both popular, which I presumed meant that lots of people liked you, and at the same time also be a bitch, which I presumed would have the opposite outcome. Apparently popularity in the context of high school has a negative correlation with people actually liking you but a high correlation with people wanting to be your friend. After careful consideration, this makes sense, though in my case, I am both an outlier and a great example of the fact that correlation does not imply causation. I am nice to everyone but without any upside: People neither like me nor want to be my friend. ~ Julie Buxbaum

I hope you will like the little things I have sent you. You seem to be most interested in Railways just now, so I am sending you mostly things of that sort. I send as much love as ever, in fact more. We have both, the old Polar Bear and I, enjoyed having so many nice letters from you and your pets. If you think we have not read them you are wrong; but if you find that not many of the things you asked for have come, and not perhaps quite as many as sometimes, remember that this Christmas all over the world there are a terrible number of poor and starving people. I (and also my Green Brother) have had to do some collecting of food and clothes, and toys too, for the children whose fathers and mothers and friends cannot give them anything, sometimes not even dinner. I know yours won't forget you. So, my dears, I hope you will be happy this Christmas and not quarrel, and will have some good games with your Railway all together. Don't forget old Father Christmas, when you light your tree. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

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

I nearly had a cakegasm at the table. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I moaned.
"Sweet Christ." I opened my eyes to find Hunter watching me with the strangest expression on his face.
"What? It's really good; you should try some," I said, pushing the plate at him. It was a testament of how embarrassed I was about the cakegasm that I was even sharing at all.
"I swear, if there weren't a table between us, I would be kissing you right now. And none too gently."
I put my form down and swallowed so I wouldn't choke. "You didn't seem to mind about the recliner," I said.
"True. But there wan't an audience, and that's a very ugly recliner. This is a very nice table. Also there is glass and sharp things I wouldn't want hurting you."
"Good point. Please, have some."
"If you're going to make that noise and that face again, I don't know if I can let you have any more."
"I'll be good. I swear."
"You're not good. That's the problem."
"You're right. I'm not," I said, giving him my own smirk. "I do try, though."
"Cruel. That's the word to describe you right now."
"Just have some cake. ~ Chelsea M. Cameron

Are you Italian?" Nico asked, putting
down his drink.

I looked up at him. "A quarter, and how
did you know that? I don't look it."

"You kind of do, plus you use a spoon like
Gina, that's the waitress, and she's half Italian."

I shrugged, having picked up the habit
from my nonna.

"What else are you?" he asked.

"I'm also a quarter Māori, part
French, Welsh, Danish, and English."

His eyes twinkled at me. "Add a few more
countries in there and you'll be a one-woman United Nations."

I smiled at that and lifted the pasta to
my mouth. Gina returned with Nico's plate of food, causing me to lower the fork
momentarily, making me wonder whether I should wait for him, but Gina started
asking him questions about university, so I took a bite. I shivered at the
delicious taste of garlic, the chef having put the perfect amount in, just how
my nonna would've made it.

The waitress disappeared as Nico picked up
his fork, twirling the spaghetti onto it without the aid of a spoon. "Looks
like you got the best parts out of all of those nationalities," he said.

I blushed at the compliment, always
embarrassed when people said nice things about my looks. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he replied, popping the
spaghetti into his mouth, his unusual eyes once more twinkling at me, so bright
that I understood why his adop ~ Marita A. Hansen

~A Comparison of Seasons~

Snow's unforgiving power causes some men to wish for spring's flower.

Some might hate snow's bitter chill, but you love it at your own will.

I see snow as something fun, but others might still long for summer's sun.

You and I hate summer's heat, but we still love the warmth of a fire on our feet.

Spring has jays whose virtuous songs are nice, but winter's lonely echoes are earth's frigged vice.

I enjoy spring's life, yet I still love winter's seemingly harsh sorrow; sometimes I can't get out of the house, so I worry about tomorrow.

I love the sight of snow and I treasure the sight of summer's river which swiftly flows.

Also, winter can be cold, but we can look forward to seeing spring's life and joy unfold. ~ Seth D.

I've shared more breakfasts with you than
any woman I've dated in the last year and a half," Mitch returned.
"I know what you look like in the morning. I know what you act like
when you come home tired after work. I know that you pick the least
expensive thing on the menu either to be nice or to be annoying in
order to put me off. But I think it's to be nice because you
are nice and also both times you thought you'd be spending
time with just me, you dressed in a way that would not, in any way,
put me off. I know you cuddle when you're sleeping. I know you take
only milk in your coffee and you make coffee strong. I know you're
really good with kids. And I know that you use music and scents to
regulate your mood. So I'm thinking this is not a first date. This
is more like us hittin' the six month mark. And the six month mark
is when you stop talkin' about shit that really doesn't matter and
start talkin' about shit that means everything. ~ Kristen Ashley

It doesn't happen to me anymore, because a fresh generation of Africans and Asians has arisen to take over the business, but in my early years in Washington, D.C., I would often find myself in the back of a big beat-up old cab driven by an African-American veteran. I became used to the formalities of the mise-en-scène: on some hot and drowsy Dixie-like afternoon I would flag down a flaking Chevy. Behind the wheel, leaning wa-aay back and relaxed, often with a cigar stub in the corner of his mouth (and, I am not making this up, but sometimes also with a genuine porkpie hat on the back of his head) would be a grizzled man with the waist of his pants somewhere up around his armpits. I would state my desired destination. In accordance with ancient cabdriver custom, he would say nothing inresponse but simply engage the stickshift on his steering wheel and begin to cruise in a leisurely fashion. There would be a pause. Then: 'You from England?' I would always try to say something along the lines of 'Well, I'm in no position to deny it.' This occasionally got me a grin; in any case, I always knew what was coming next. 'I was there once.' 'Were you in the service?' 'I sure was.' 'Did you get to Normandy?' 'Yes, sir.' But it wasn't Normandy or combat about which they wanted to reminisce. (With real combat veterans, by the way, it almost never is.) It was England itself. 'Man did it know how to rain… and the warm beer. Nice people, though. Real nice.' I would never forget to say, as I ~ Christopher Hitchens

If your subject is an actor, he or she will also be shorter in person than they appear onscreen. This, also, you must keep to yourself. Even if you think you are giving their lack of height a positive spin, you aren't. 'You always seem larger than life in photos, but it's nice to see that in person you're just like us' might seem like a compliment, but what a star hears is 'You're stumpy, and you will lose jobs to taller people. ~ Jancee Dunn

I would never sabotage you, Mya." He wiped away one of my stray tears with his fingertips. "Of course, deep down I did want you to stay, but I had nothing but nice things to say about you. I even said they'd be foolish not to hire you, but - " "But?" I glared at him. "But what?" "But if they thought the low-ass salaries they were offering were good enough for you, they needed to increase them exponentially or move along to someone else. I thought you deserved more." "Is that all?" "No," he said, looking into my eyes. "I also needed to personally interview each of the CEOs myself. Needed to make sure each one was a good fit for you, and that whoever you worked for next was already married." I opened my mouth to ask him if he was being serious, but he beat me to it. "Yes," he said, smirking. "Yes, I 'seriously' did need to do that." "What does the CEO being married have to do with anything, Michael? What if I have no interest in seeing you after I quit?" "You do, so we're not even going to entertain that line of conversation." He rolled his eyes. "If the CEO is already married, I won't have to worry about 'this' happening at your next place of employment, and I can be somewhat less jealous." "How selfish of you." I couldn't believe him, but for some reason I couldn't help the smile that was forming on my face. ~ Whitney G.

This kind of thing is so awkward and horrible, and from your end, you know it must… Okay, I'm just going to come out and tell you: I'm asking you out. That's what I'm doing. Please don't answer yet, because I know you might have a "No" queued up in your head already, but will you please let me say a few things?

I know that being a woman in New York must be hard, because it's basically disappointing that you try to be nice to men as human beings, and then they respond by just torpedoing to your vagina. And I want you to know that I'm aware that you're young and beautiful - and I'm not… either of those things. And part of me knows that as soon as my lips stop moving, you're going to say no. But please think of the fact that it's low risk what I'm asking.

You just come out with me for a drink, and even if you got up in the middle of the one drink, I wouldn't hold it against you. Just make a judgement based on nothing horrible would happen if you came out with me. I think you're so attractive. I'm attracted to you because you're nice, and you're a decent person, and those are probably the reasons you want people to be attracted to you, right? Also, you're horribly cute. I mean, you're cute as hell.

And I grow on people - women. Some times go by, and you get past the bald head and that I sweat a lot and I'm lumpy… I've run out of things to say. Can you just tell me now? Did this work? ~ Louis C.K.

But secrets can also keep things precious. Private. That's what can be hard for people to understand. It can be nice to have something you don't share with the world. -Bridgette ~ Michele Jaffe

That's something that would really sell. I mean, I admire that you tell stories of make-believe people in worlds that don't exist and that have no relevance to how we live. That can be nice, but people also like things that are uplifting and practical.
(From the short story: The Late Novels of Gene Hackman) ~ Rivka Galchen

I spoke softly. "The cops will eat you alive, Benjamin Blue. You have to go."
Ben tensed, ready to argue.
"Detective Hawfield died. This is going to get serious. It's way too much heat for you. Please be sensible."
Ben hesitated. Then his shoulders slumped.
"Maybe you're right." Deep breath. "But you're taking away the other possibility, too."
"I don't understand." I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching vehicle. "What other possibility?"
He smiled wanly. "Ben Blue, The Hero. That kinda would've been nice."
I paused, at a loss for words. My heart broke for him.
"But that's okay." Ben dug keys from his pocket. "After all, we're Virals, not heroes. And that's fine. Plus, I'm not really the hero type."
He turned to leave.
Impulsively, I grabbed Ben's arm. Pulled him close.
Smashed my lips against his.
The kiss only lasted a second, but also an eternity.
Then I stepped back and shoved Ben toward the Explorer.
"Of course you're the type." I was grateful the darkness hid my blushes. "Now go."
Ben stared, stricken, thunderstruck. Hi and Shelton watched, wide-eyed with shock.
"Weirdest birthday ever," Hi whispered. ~ Kathy Reichs

STEVE CARELL IS NICE BUT IT IS SCARY

It has been said many times, but it is true: Steve Carell is a very nice guy. His niceness manifests itself mostly in the fact that he never complains. You could screw up a handful of takes outside in 104-degree smog-choked Panorama City heat, and Steve Carell's final words before collapsing of heat stroke would be a friendly and hopeful "Hey, you think you have that shot yet?"
I've always found Steve gentlemanly and private, like a Jane Austen character. The one notable thing about Steve's niceness is that he is also very smart, and that kind of niceness has always made me nervous. When smart people are nice, it's always terrifying, because I know they're taking in everything and thinking all kinds of smart and potentially judgmental things. Steve could never be as funny as he is, or as darkly observational an actor, without having an extremely acute sense of human flaws. As a result, I'm always trying to impress him, in the hope that he'll go home and tell his wife, Nancy, "Mindy was so funny and cool on set today. She just gets it."
Getting Steve to talk shit was one of the most difficult seven-year challenges, but I was determined to do it. A circle of actors could be in a fun, excoriating conversation about, say, Dominique Strauss-Kahn, and you'd shoot Steve an encouraging look that said, "Hey, come over here; we've made a space for you! We're trashing Dominique Strauss-Kahn to build cast rapport!" and the best ~ Mindy Kaling

I think it would be cute to marry your high school sweetheart, but I think it would also be nice to be sitting on a plane with somebody who lives across the world from you. ~ Shay Mitchell

She didn't get any further because he didn't just stand there letting her aim missiles at him. He easily dodged the first one, and the second went over his head as he dived at her, pushing her back down onto the couch with himself landing on top of her. After she got her breath back from the impact, she shrieked, "Get off of me, you clumsy clod!" "My dear girl, there was nothing clumsy involved in the position you now find yourself. It was quite intentional, I do assure you." "Get off of me anyway!" "So you can resume your spat of violence? No, no. Violence is not going to be part of our relationship. I could've sworn I already mentioned that." "And what do you call squashing me like this?" "Prudence, actually." And then he paused, his eyes getting greener by the second as he stared down at her. "On the other hand, I'd also call it quite nice." Her eyes narrowed. "If you're thinking about kissing me, I wouldn't advise it," she warned. "No?" "No." He sighed. "Ah, well." But then a half grin formed as he added, "I don't always take good advice."

-Kelsey & Derek ~ Johanna Lindsey

Just in terms of being able to be a professional artist, but also it's nice to not have to dread introductions. "What you do for a living?" It used to be easier just to tell people that I was a magazine illustrator than try to explain that I did comics, but not the kind of comics that they were used to, and no, it's not pornography, etc. And now people even of our parents' generation are familiar with the term "graphic novel," which is kind of amazing. ~ Adrian Tomine

Je ne regrette rien," I say, lifting my glass of water and sipping it. "That's the spirit," Evelyn says. "Although that song is more about not regretting because you don't live in the past. What I mean is that I'd still make a lot of the same decisions today. To be clear, there are things I regret. It's just . . . it's not really the sordid things. I don't regret many of the lies I told or the people I hurt. I'm OK with the fact that sometimes doing the right thing gets ugly. And also, I have compassion for myself. I trust myself. Take, for instance, when I snapped at you earlier, back at the apartment, when you said what you did about my confessing sins. It wasn't a nice thing to do, and I'm not sure you deserved it. But I don't regret it. Because I know I had my reasons, and I did the best I could with every thought and feeling that led up to it. ~ Taylor Jenkins Reid

What does... bebita mean?"
Rider blinked and his lips slowly parted. Surprise splashed across his face. Yeah, I'd spoken in front of Hector. I felt sort of giddy. Might've only been a handful of words, but it was the first time I spoke to him. It was the first time I'd spoken to anyone in front of Rider since we crossed paths again. He'd never been around when Jayden had.
Biting down on my lip to stop from grinning, I dared a peek at Hector.
His light green eyes were wide, then he smiled broadly. "Means, uh, baby girl."
"Oh," I whispered, feeling my cheeks heat. That was kind of nice.
"It also means something he doesn't need to be calling you," Rider added, and my gaze darted back to him.
Hector chuckled, and when I glanced at him, he was grinning. One arm was flung over the back of his seat. "My bad," he murmured, but nothing about the way he looked suggested he felt any guilt.
My lips twitched into a small grin.
Rider cocked his head to the side. "Uh-huh. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

In the days leading up to Valentine's Day, in addition to the daily letter I also made sure to send her a Valentine's card and a different bar of chocolate. I was buying really nice bars of chocolate, all different flavors and kinds. She was only allowed to eat them right there at mail call, and sometimes she would get several packages at once, so even though it was hard to do, she'd share bites of her chocolate with other people. I also made sure to give extra thought to the regular, daily letter that would arrive on Valentine's Day:

Jamie,
In the beginning of our relationship I criticized your expectations in a boyfriend. I told you that you watched too many movies and lived in a fantasy world. In a way I was asking you to settle. Even through our arguments about what was realistic and what was a fairy tale, I did everything I could to be your prince in a world where I saw you as the princess that you are. I was wrong to ever question you. Your standards never dropped and it forced me to rise up to the level needed to keep you. Like a storybook romance, I've defended your honor, showered you with love, worshipped the ground you walk on, and will faithfully wait for you while you're away. You have made me a better man. Because of you I live a life I am proud of and have become the father, brother, son, and friend my family deserves. Your love has positively affected every aspect of my life. And for that I could never repay you. But I will happily be forever y ~ Noah Galloway