Resting When You Are Not Tired Quotes

That evening, in her apartment, still in Warsaw, Ana takes down a book from her shelf – a rather thick, ordinary paperback. It looks old, because it's worn out and somehow shabby. But it's not ordinary. I can tell by the way she handles it so carefully, like something unique. 'This is the book I told you about,' she says, holding out the Anthology of Feminist Texts, a collection of early American feminist essays, 'the only feminist book translated into the Polish language,' the only such book to turn to when you are sick and tired of reading about man-eater/man-killer feminists from the West, I think, looking at it, imagining how many women have read this one copy. 'Sometimes I feel like I live on Jupiter, among Jupiterians, and then one day, quite by chance, I discover that I belong to another species. And I discover it in this book. Isn't that wonderful. ~ Slavenka Drakulic

When your eyes are tired the world is tired also. When your vision has gone no part of the world can find you. Time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to recognize its own. There you can be sure you are not beyond love. The dark will be your womb tonight. The night will give you a horizon further than you can see. You must learn one thing. The world was made to be free in. Give up on all other worlds except the one to which you belong. Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you. ~ David Whyte

You never called me back," he said. "I called you so many times and you never called me back."
Magnus looked at Alec as if he'd lost his mind. "Your city is under attack," he said. "The wards have been broken, and the streets are full of demons. And you want to know why I haven't called you?"
Alec set his jaw in a stubborn line. "I want to know why you haven't called me back."
Magnus threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of utter exasperation. Alec noted with interest that when he did it, a few sparks escaped from his fingertips, like fireflies escaping from a jar. "You're an idiot."
"Is that why you haven't called me? Because I'm an idiot?"
"No." Magnus strode toward him. "I didn't call you because I'm tired of you only wanting me around when you need something. I'm tired of watching you be in love with someone else - someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do."
"You love me?"
"You stupid Nephilim," Magnus said patiently. "Why else am I here? Why else would I have spent the past few weeks patching up all your moronic friends every time they got hurt? And getting you out of every ridiculous situation you found yourself in? Not to mention helping you win a battle against Valentine. And all completely free of charge! ~ Cassandra Clare

Stars are good, too. I wish I could get some to put in my hair. But I suppose I never can. You would be surprised to find how far off they are, for they do not look it. When they first showed, last night, I tried to knock some down with a pole, but it didn't reach, which astonished me; then I tried clods till I was all tired out, but I never got one. It was because I am left-handed and cannot throw good. Even when I aimed at the one I wasn't after I couldn't hit the other one, though I did make some close shots, for I saw the black blot of the clod sail right into the midst of the golden clusters forty or fifty times, just barely missing them, and if I could have held out a little longer maybe I could have got one. ~ Mark Twain

What are you doing?"
"Coming to pick you up in a little bit," he said. I loved it when he took charge. It made my heart skip a beat, made me feel flushed and excited and thrilled. After four years with J, I was sick and tired of the surfer mentality. Laid-back, I'd discovered, was no longer something I wanted in a man. And when it came to his affection for me, Marlboro Man was anything but that. "I'll be there at five." Yes, sir. Anything you say, sir. I'll be ready. With bells on.
I started getting ready at three. I showered, shaved, powdered, perfumed, brushed, curled, and primped for two whole hours--throwing on a light pink shirt and my favorite jeans--all in an effort to appear as if I'd simply thrown myself together at the last minute.
It worked. "Man," Marlboro Man said when I opened the door. "You look great." I couldn't focus very long on his compliment, though--I was way too distracted by the way he looked. God, he was gorgeous. At a time of year when most people are still milky white, his long days of working cattle had afforded him a beautiful, golden, late-spring tan. And his typical denim button-down shirts had been replaced by a more fitted dark gray polo, the kind of shirt that perfectly emphasizes biceps born not from working out in a gym, but from tough, gritty, hands-on labor. And his prematurely gray hair, very short, was just the icing on the cake. I could eat this man with a spoon.
"You do, too," I replied, trying to will away my spik ~ Ree Drummond

Good Morning - Midnight
I'm coming Home
Day - got tired of Me
How could I - of Him?
Sunshine was a sweet place
I liked to stay
But Morn - didn't want me - now
So - Goodnight - Day!
I can look - can't I
When the East is Red?
The Hills - have a way - then
That puts the Heart - abroad
You - are not so fair - Midnight
I chose - Day
But - please take a little Girl
He turned away! ~ Emily Dickinson

Billy ran around with a rare old crew
And he knew an Arsenal from Tottenham blue
We'd be a darn sight better off if we knew
Where Billy's bones are resting now

Billy saw a copper and he hit him in the knee
And he took him down from six to five foot three
Then he hit him fair and square in the do-re-mi
That copper won't be having any family

Hey Billy son where are you now?
Don't you know that we need you now?
With a rat-tat-tat and the old kowtow
Where are Billy's bones resting now?

Billy went away with a peace-keeping force
'Cause he liked a bloody good fight, of course
Went away in an old khaki van
To the banks of the River Jordan

Billy saw the Arabs and he had 'em on the run
When he got 'em in the range of his sub-machine gun
Then he had the Israelis in his sights, went a rat-tat-tat
And they ran like shites

Hey Billy son where are you now?
Don't you know that we need you now?
With a rat-tat-tat and the old kowtow
Where are Billy's bones resting now?

One night Billy had a rare old time,
Laughing and singing on the Lebanon line
Came back to camp not looking too pretty
Never even got to see the holy city

Now Billy's out there in the desert sun
And his mother cries when the morning comes
And there's mothers crying all over this world
For their poor dead darling boys and girls
< ~ Shane MacGowan

Laugh, even when you feel too sick or too worn out or tired.
Smile, even when you're trying not to cry and the tears are blurring your vision.
Sing, even when people stare at you and tell you your voice is crappy.
Trust, even when your heart begs you not to.
Twirl, even when your mind makes no sense of what you see.
Frolick, even when you are made fun of. Kiss, even when others are watching. Sleep, even when you're afraid of what the dreams might bring.
Run, even when it feels like you can't run any more.
And, always, remember, even when the memories pinch your heart. Because the pain of all your experience is what makes you the person you are now. And without your experience---you are an empty page, a blank notebook, a missing lyric. What makes you brave is your willingness to live through your terrible life and hold your head up high the next day. So don't live life in fear. Because you are stronger now, after all the crap has happened, than you ever were back before it started. ~ Alysha Speer

We don't want you here living with us. You are white, and we do not trust you. You must take your family and go.
I could hear the sudden intake of breath. every head in the crowd swiveled, first to the Nkosi, and then to me. I suddenly felt tired. This is what it had all come to;in South Africa, when logic shrivels, the same dreary dinosaurs rear their vicious heads. ~ Lawrence Anthony

It can be crazy hard. To keep your faith, to keep going. It can be harder than I ever would have imagined. Sometimes things happen to you, really bad things that aren't fair, things that make you feel so terrible you're not even sure who you are anymore or whether you're right or wrong, good or bad. Sometimes you feel like there's no one to turn to, and you're all alone and so scared you can hardly move and so tired you just want to curl up in a ball and go to sleep forever. I guess that's kind of the way Alex felt that last night I saw him. And that's the way I felt now. But I guess I had one advantage over Alex. I guess in some way I'd been training for this time my whole life. I'd been training every day, even in simple things, little things. I trained to keep my mind sharp when I went to school. I trained in karate to keep my body and spirit strong. Even when I just went to church, or when I prayed by myself, it was a kind of training: I was training to remember that I was not alone. I was never alone. ~ Andrew Klavan

Those clothes are Susie's,' my father said calmly when he reached him.
Buckley looked down at my blackwatch dress that he held in his hand.
My father stepped closer, took the dress from my brother, and then, without speaking, he gathered the rest of my clothes, which Buckley had piled on the lawn. As he turned in silence toward the house, hardly breathing, clutching my clothes to him, it sparked.
I was the only one to see the colors. Just near Buckley's ears and on the tips of his cheeks and chin he was a little orange somehow, a little red.
Why can't I use them?' he asked.
It landed in my father's back like a fist.
Why can't I use those clothes to stake my tomatoes?'
My father turned around. He saw his son standing there, behind him the perfect plot of muddy, churned-up earth spotted with tiny seedlings. 'How can you ask me that question?'
You have to choose. It's not fair,' my brother said.
Buck?' My father held my clothes against his chest.
I watched Buckley flare and light. Behind him was the sun of the goldenrod hedge, twice as tall as it had been at my death.
I'm tired of it!' Buckley blared. 'Keesha's dad died and she's okay?'
Is Keesha a girl at school?'
Yes!'
My father was frozen. He could feel the dew that had gathered on his bare ankles and feet, could feel the ground underneath him, cold and moist and stirring with possibility.
I'm sorry. When did this happen?'
That's not the point, Da ~ Alice Sebold

So what do I do? What do we do? How do we move forward when we are tired and afraid? What do we do when the voice in our head is yelling that WE ARE NEVER GONNA MAKE IT? How do we drag ourselves through the muck when our brain is telling us youaredumbandyouwillneverfinishandnoonecaresanditistimeyoustop? Well, the first thing we do is take our brain out and put it in a drawer. Stick it somewhere and let it tantrum until it wears itself out. You may still hear the brain and all the shitty things it is saying to you, but it will be muffled, and just the fact that it is not in your head anymore will make things seem clearer. ~ Amy Poehler

You are as you are until you're not. You change when you want to change. You put your ideas into action in the timing that is best. That's just how it happens.

And what I think we all need more than anything is this: permission to be wherever the fuck we are when we're there.


You're not a robot. You can't just conjure up motivation when you don't have it. Sometimes you're going through something. Sometimes life has happened. Life! Remember life? Yeah, it teaches you things and sometimes makes you go the long way around for your biggest lessons.

You don't get to control everything. You can wake up at 5 a.m. every day until you're tired and broken, but if the words or the painting or the ideas don't want to come to fruition, they won't. You can show up every day to your best intentions, but if it's not the time, it's just not the fucking time. You need to give yourself permission to be a human being. ~ Jamie Varon

Dude. I'm going to have a baby. A baby cub. What the hell am I going to do?"
Amara hugged her close and kissed her temple. Her friend warmed her when Eliana hadn't been sure she could ever feel any form of warmth again. "You're going to be a kickass mom. You and Malik are going to talk and figure out a plan. Whether you are together or apart, you'll be there for this baby. We all will. I know fate just threw you a curveball of epic proportions, but you can handle it. You're stronger than you think you are."
Eliana hoped her friend was right. Because everything had changed once again and now she had to be the rock for not only herself but her baby, as well. Only she was tired of being the rock. She wanted to lean against someone. She wanted a partner.
She just didn't think Malik knew what it meant to be a partner. Because she sure as hell didn't. ~ Carrie Ann Ryan

How is she already asleep?" Sully whispers. "At home she stays up until like two a.m."

"She probably was tired," Church whispers back.

"What, from climbing a hill?"

Church doesn't respond. They get into their sleeping bags and whisper for half an hour about the outdoor soccer season about to start. I hadn't even realized the indoor season was over - Mom and Dad just told me when I needed to take them to practice or pick them up. I didn't know how they'd done. Were there any tournaments? Trophies?

After a long stretch of silence, Sully says, "So did you really try out for the spring musical?"

Church doesn't respond for a second. "Yes. Why?"

"Just wondering. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you would have made it about Macy Garrison."

"It - it's not?"

"No."

"Oh. But you're not going to try out forchoir?"

"Maybe."

"Why?" Just the smallest bit of mocking enters Sully's tone.

"Because I like it," Church snaps back. "We don't have to do all the same things. Try out for mathletes or something. You like math. You'd be good at it."

"Mathletes is for nerds."

"Sull, there's something you should know."

"Don't say it."

"You are a nerd."

"I'm not a nerd. Eliza's a nerd."

"Actually, I think Eliza's a geek. I've seen her grades. Compared to us, she's horrible at school."

"Yo ~ Francesca Zappia

If you can see a thing whole," he said, "it seems that it's always beautiful. Planets, lives. . . . But close up, a world's all dirt and rocks. And day to day, life's a hard job, you get tired, you loose the pattern. You need distance, interval. The way to see how beautiful earth is, is to see it from the moon. The way to see how beautiful life is, is from the vantage point of death."
"That's all right for Urras. Let it stay off there and be the moon-I don't want it! But I am not going to stand up on a gravestone and look down on life and say, 'O lovely!' I want to see it whole right in the middle of it, here, now. I don't give a hoot for eternity."
"It's nothing to do with eternity," said Shevek, grinning, a thin shaggy man of silver and shadow. "All you have to do to see life as a whole is to see it as mortal. I'll die, you'll die; how could we love each other otherwise? The sun's going to burn out, what else keeps it shining?"
"Ah! your talk, your damned philosophy!"
"Talk? It's not talk. It's not reason. It's hand's touch. I touch the wholeness, I hold it. Which is moonlight, which is Takver? How shall I fear death? When I hold it, when I hold in my hands the light-"
"Don't be propertarian," Takver muttered.
"Dear heart, don't cry."
"I'm not crying. You are. Those are your tears."
"I'm cold. The moonlight's cold."
"Lie down."
A great shiver went through his body as she took him in her arms.
"I'm afraid, Tak ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

Do not practice finely skilled movements after you are tired, for you will begin to substitute gross motions for finer ones and generalized efforts for specific ones. Remember, wrong movements tend to supervene and the athlete's progress is set back. Thus, the athlete practices fine skills only while he is fresh. When he becomes fatigued, he shifts to tasks employing gross movements designed principally to develop endurance. ~ Bruce Lee

Why?' says the boy.
'Why? Because staying alive is more important than anything else.'
'Why is staying alive more important than anything?'
He is about to answer, about to produce the correct, patient, educative words, when something wells up inside him. Anger? No. Irritation? No: more than that. Despair? Perhaps: despair in one of its minor forms. Why? Because he would like to believe he is guiding the child through the maze of the moral life when, correctly, patiently, he answers his unceasing 'Why' questions. But where is there any evidence that the child absorbs his guidance or even hears what he says?
He stops where he is on the busy sidewalk. Inés and the boy stop too, and stare at him in puzzlement. 'Think of it in this way,' he says. 'We are tramping through the desert, you and Inés and I. You tell me you are thirsty and I offer you a glass of water. Instead of drinking the water you pour it out in the sand. You say you thirst for answers: 'Why this? Why that?' I, because I am patient, because I love you, offer you an answer each time, which you pour away in the sand. Today, at last, I am tired of offering you water. 'Why is staying alive important?' If life does not seem important to you, so be it.'
Inés raises a hand to her mouth in dismay. As for the boy, his face sets in a frown. 'You say you love me but you don't love me,' he says. 'You just pretend. ~ J.M. Coetzee

There comes a time for healing
no matter how broken you are right now;
no matter how heavy your heart is right now.
There comes a time when you will go outside
and let the sun shine on your face
and let the wind touch your hair
and you will not be tired by just simply being awake.
There comes a time when you will be happy to be alive again
and that day you will appreciate your own being
because now you know the other side.
Now you know the opposite.
Now you know what it's like to not be sure if you really are; who
you really are;
if you simply are, anymore.
And that day
will be the beginning of everything. ~ Charlotte Eriksson

I touched Loki's chest, running my fingers over the bumps of his scar. I didn't know why exactly, but I felt compelled to, as if the scar connected us somehow.
"You just couldn't wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?" Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in pace.
"No,I-I was checking for wounds," I stumbled. I wouldn't meet his gaze.
"I'm sure." He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. "What's that?" He tried to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald-encrusted oval on my finger. "Is that a wedding ring?"
"No, engagement." I lowered my hand, resting it on the bed next to him. "I'm not married yet."
"I'm not too late, then." He smiled and settled back in the bed.
"Too late for what?" I asked.
"To stop you, of course." Still smiling, he closed his eyes.
"Is that why you're here?" I asked, failing to point out how near we were to my nuptials.
"I told you why I'm here," Loki said.
"What happened to you, Loki?" I asked, my voice growing thick when I thought about what he had to have gone through to get all those marks and bruises.
"Are you crying?" Loki asked and opened his eyes.
"No, I'm not crying." I wasn't, but my eyes were moist.
"Don't cry." He tried to sit up, but he winced when he lifted his head, so I put my hand gently on his chest to keep him down.
"You need to rest," I said.
"I will ~ Amanda Hocking

He patted her hand. "But I will settle for an amiable wife." It was as close to making a declaration of his intentions as he'd come.
So of course Mr. Pinter chose that inopportune moment to enter the breakfast room. "And whose amiable wife are you settling for, sir?" he said in a snide tone.
His gaze dropped to the viscount's hand resting on hers, then darkened. She resisted the urge to snatch her hand free.
The viscount bristled, tightening his hand almost possessively on hers. "Do I know you, sir?"
"Not yet. The name is Jackson Pinter." He came to stand directly across the table and bent forward over it to offer his hand to Lord Basto, forcing the viscount to release her hand to take it. "Some would call me Mrs. Plumtree's 'lackey,'" he added with a side glance at Celia. "Though I work for Lord Stoneville."
She colored, remembering the conversation they'd had a few months ago, when she'd called him that. He was clearly spoiling for a fight. No doubt he was still smarting over her pulling a pistol on him last night. "Mr. Pinter does investigations of all kinds," she explained. "For money."
Mr. Pinter's slate-gray eyes bore into her. "Some of us cannot live on our family's fortune, my lady."
"While some of us are very fond of biting the hand that feeds them." If he could throw her past words at her, then she could throw back what he'd said to her months ago.
She was surprised when a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "A hit direct, mad ~ Sabrina Jeffries

How Could You Not - for Jane Kenyon

It is a day after many days of storms.
Having been washed and washed, the air glitters;
small heaped cumuli blow across the sky; a shower
visible against the firs douses the crocuses.

We knew it would happen one day this week.
Now, when I learn you have died, I go
to the open door and look across at New Hampshire
and see that there, too, the sun is bright
and clouds are making their shadowy ways along the horizon;

and I think: How could it not have been today?
In another room, Keri Te Kanawa is singing
the Laudate Dominum of Mozart, very faintly,
as if in the past, to those who once sat
in the steel seat of the old mowing machine,
cheerful descendent of the scythe of the grim reaper,

and drew the cutter bars little
reciprocating triangles through the grass
to make the stalks lie down in sunshine.
Could you have walked in the dark early this morning
and found yourself grown completely tired
of the successes and failures of medicine,
of your year of pain and despair remitted briefly
now and then by hope that had that leaden taste?

Did you glimpse in first light the world as you loved it
and see that, now, it was not wrong to die
and that, on dying, you would leave
your beloved in a day like paradise?

Near sunrise did you loosen your hold a little?
How could you not ~ Galway Kinnell

Jem," he said, "are you responsible for this?"
"Yes sir."
"Why'd you do it?"
Jem said softly, "She said you lawed for niggers and trash."
"You did this because she said that?"
Jem's lips moved, but his, "Yes sir," was inaudible.
"Son, I have no doubt that you've been annoyed by your contemporaries about me
lawing for niggers, as you say, but to do something like this to a sick old lady is
inexcusable. I strongly advise you to go down and have a talk with Mrs. Dubose," said
Atticus. "Come straight home afterward."
Jem did not move.
"Go on, I said."
I followed Jem out of the livingroom. "Come back here," Atticus said to me. I came
back.
Atticus picked up the Mobile Press and sat down in the rocking chair Jem had
vacated. For the life of me, I did not understand how he could sit there in cold blood and
read a newspaper when his only son stood an excellent chance of being murdered with
a Confederate Army relic. Of course Jem antagonized me sometimes until I could kill
him, but when it came down to it he was all I had. Atticus did not seem to realize this, or
if he did he didn't care.
I hated him for that, but when you are in trouble you become easily tired: soon I was
hiding in his lap and his arms were around me.
"You're mighty big to be rocked," he said.
"You don't care what happens to him," I said. "You just send him on to get s ~ Harper Lee

The keys to life are running and reading. When you're running, there's a little person that talks to you and says, "Oh I'm tired. My lung's about to pop. I'm so hurt. There's no way I can possibly continue." You want to quit. If you learn how to defeat that person when you're running. You will how to not quit when things get hard in your life. For reading: there have been gazillions of people that have lived before all of us. There's no new problem you could have
with your parents, with school, with a bully. There's no new problem that someone hasn't already had and written about it in a book. ~ Will Smith

when you walk, you look like you're trying to disappear.
your back is gonna be fucked up.
why do you think change is so hard? is it because you're afraid?
people might think you're pretty, but they'll never love you.
you talk like you're apologizing for your own voice.
speak up.
grow up.
find your spine, stop shrinking.
there is nothing brave about keeping silent.
how many times have you been in love? I can't picture it ever happening for you.
you lie because it makes you feel free. this is a prison.
you're always gonna think about him. you will never get him out of your system.
I wish I never had to see you again.
you poor thing.
go to hell.
you may be a nice person but you will never be a good person.
no one is ever going to want to touch you.
is there a vision in your head of who you want to be?
you do not have the strength to become her.
there is no boat big enough to keep you from drowning in the sea of yourself.
go to bed, baby.
you are tired from all of this nothing.
sleep.
rest. ~ Caitlyn Siehl

Titus 2 exhorts women to love their children and to be keepers of the home. That doesn't mean that we can't have our own interests or earn extra money, but it does mean that we are to prioritize family because that's what love does. Love is not self-seeking. When you truly love someone you get up in the middle of the night to wash pillows, regardless of how much those sheets stink, or how tired you are. ~ Darlene Schacht

But there is a world of difference between dancing and watching a dance performed by a group of professionals who are paid for it. You work hard during the day, and when you are tired in the evening you go to a concert to watch others dancing. It is all you can do, but it is not even an apology for celebration. ~ Rajneesh

There, said they, is the Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect. [Heb. 12:22-24] You are going now, said they, to the paradise of God, wherein you shall see the tree of life, and eat of the never-fading fruits thereof; and when you come there, you shall have white robes given you, and your walk and talk shall be every day with the King, even all the days of eternity. [Rev. 2:7, 3:4, 21:4,5] There you shall not see again such things as you saw when you were in the lower region upon the earth, to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death, for the former things are passed away. You are now going to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the prophets
men that God hath taken away from the evil to come, and that are now resting upon their beds, each one walking in his righteousness. [Isa. 57:1,2, 65:17] ~ John Bunyan

lol I can sleep, i've never had a problem with it. I just never got much. These days if i'm not awake doing something, i'll stay in bed from night til night and have no problems with hiding under the duvet. That's what worries me. It comes to the point sometimes that I don't know what i worry more about when going to sleep - my dreams? my dreams that are nightmares, or the real fact that it doesn't matter if my eyes are closed or open, i'm still living the same thing. Pretty fecking depressing if you ask me lol So I tend to stay awake the longest I can so that when I fall asleep i'm too tired to say or do much that I just sleep and don't think. ~ Ellie Williams

I could do this. I just had to be careful and not punch her. Piece of cake.
"Hi," Heather said, stretching the word. She walked carefully, as if worried I'd bite her.
"Hi!" Kate Daniels, a good neighbor. Would you like some cookies?
"I'm sorry to bother you . . . What is that smell?"
Spider guts. "How can I help you?"
"Umm, the neighbors asked me to bring some issues to your attention."
I bet they did, and she bravely soldiered under that burden. "Shoot."
"It's about the mailbox."
I could see the communal mailbox out of the corner of my eye. It seemed intact.
"You see, the mailman saw your husband during one of his walks."
"He's my fiancé," I told her. "We are living in sin."
Heather blinked, momentarily knocked off her stride, but recovered. "Oh, that's nice."
"It's very nice. I highly recommend it."
"As I was saying, he saw your fiancé when he was in his animal shape. How to put it . . . He became alarmed."
That was generally a normal reaction when encountering Curran for the first time.
"We are not sure if they will deliver mail again."
"Did you receive any official notices from the post office?"
"No, but . . ." Heather tried a smile. "We were thinking maybe your fiancé could not do that anymore."
"Do what?" I had a sudden urge to strangle Heather. I was so tired of people acting like Curran was an inhuman spree killer who would murder babies in their sleep.
"Walk around in his a ~ Ilona Andrews

God always forgives when you are totally repentant and you desire to change. He forgives ... and He never gets tired of forgiving. Never. You may get tired asking. I hope not. He never, never tires of forgiving. Never. ~ Mother Angelica

Don't keep your own schedule - that will eat too much of your time keeping your own schedule. And when you are tired, stop. Because if you are too tired, you become not productive, and you are wasting time. ~ Christine Quinn

Willow turned her gaze from him as he sat down on the bed and smoothed her tangled hair off her face. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you, sweetheart. Are you all right now?"
Willow couldn't help flinching from his touch. "Of course I'm all right," she snapped.
Rider jerked his hand back as if bitten. "Freckles, honey, is something wrong, something you're not telling me?"
The angry redhead shrugged. "What could possibly be wrong?"
"I don't know. You just seem a little....out of sorts."
Bastard, she silently cursed. But aloud she said, "I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."
"Do you want me to bring your supper to you in here? I'd be happy to keep you company."
"I would like to have my supper in here but don't bother yourself on my account. I'm sure you have things to discuss with Pa and the boys."
Rider stood abruptly, obviously at a loss over her attitude. "Fine,Willow, if that's what you want."
"It is."
He opened the door to leave but halted when she called, "Rider."
"Yes?"
"You better move your things in with one of the boys. Miriam is sharing my bed tonight."
"Tonight? But I'm leaving tomorrow and won't be back until-"
"Really,Rider, it's only for one night and I ain't,er, am not in any shape for fooling around!"
"I know that," he bit out, his ire piqued now. "I just thought it might be nice to hold you."
With that, he slammed out the door and Willow broke into tears. Before they stopped, her head was p ~ Charlotte McPherren

One day, Methodist circuit rider Jesse Lee downtime self accosted by two lawyers:
"You are a preacher, sir?"
"Yes, I generally pass for one," replied Lee.
"You preach very often, I suppose?"
"Generally every day; frequently twice a day, or more."
"How do you find time to study, when you preach so often?"
"I study when writing," said Lee. "And read when resting," he added, maintaining a smile, though he could see now where they were heading.
The first lawyer feigned incredulity. "But do you not write your sermons?"
"No, not very often, at least."
"Do you not often make mistakes preaching extemporaneously?" the second lawyer queried.
Lee nodded. "I do, sometimes."
"Well, do you correct them?"
"That depends on the character of the mistake. I was preaching the other day, and I went to quote the text, 'All liars shall have their part in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone,' and by mistake I said, 'All lawyers shall have their part--'"
The first lawyer interrupted him. "What did you do with that? Did you correct it?"
"Oh, no, it was so nearly true I didn't bother."
"Humph!" said one of the lawyers looking at the other, "I don't know whether you are more a knave than a fool!"
Neither," replied Lee smiling, and looking at the one on his right and the one on his left, "I'd say I was just between the two. ~ Peter Marshall

People use the word 'love' a lot of different ways. Take me, for instance. I am often heard saying that I love my mom and dad. I am also often heard saying that I love pizza.
What am I saying when I say I love my mom and dad? I'm saying that I care about them. I'm saying that I love spending time with them and that I talk to them every chance I get. I'm saying that if they needed me, I would do every humanly possible to help them. I'm saying that I always want what's best for them.
What am I saying when I say I love pizza? Am I saying that I care deeply about pizza? Am I saying that I have a relationship with pizza? Am I saying that if pizza had a problem, I would be there for the pizza? (What? Not enough pepperoni? I'll be right there!)
Of course not. When I say I love pizza, I'm just saying that I enjoy eating pizza until I don't want any more pizza. Once I'm tired of the pizza, I don't care what happens to the rest of it. I'll throw it away. I'll feed it to the dog. I'll stick it in the back of the refrigerator until it gets all green and moldy. It doesn't matter to me anymore.
These are two very different definition of the word 'love'.
It gets confusing when people start talking about love, and especially about loving you. Which way do these people love you? Do they want what is best for you, or do they just want you around because it is good for them, and they don't really care what happens to you?
Next time someone looks deeply into y ~ Mary Beth Bonacci

You can apply some leverage when your child is feeling energetic, "We can go to the park as soon as these blocks are put away." But when a toddler is tired or hungry, avoid a losing battle. Do it yourself for now. There will be plenty of other opportunities for your child to participate. Don't worry, this is not the last mess!! ~ Julie King

What do you envision for your future, Anna?"
His abrupt question struck a nerve in me. It was the same question I'd been asking myself for months.
"I don't know," I said. "I used to know what I wanted, but not anymore."
He considered this, watching me with curiosity. "What did you want?"
I reached down and touched the water. "A family, mostly."
"And you no longer want that?"
I dried my hands on my jeans, trying not to get emotional. At one time, I wanted a loving husband and a houseful of kids more than anything in the world. But I'd let go of those dreams. I couldn't even adopt a child. What would the Dukes say if they caught me playing house?
"I can't have those things," I told him, still avoiding his stare. "And I'm tired of wanting things I can't have."
His voice was low when he responded. "Perhaps children are out of the question, but you could still have a husband, in secret."
My eyes flew up to his, and my skin sizzled as his words settled over me. I opened my mouth, but couldn't speak. His light eyes played chicken with mine, not backing down from his claim.
"It's too dangerous," I said.
"You are young." He didn't state it in a condescending way, but I still bristled. "Someday you may agree that there are dangers worth facing."
I swallowed, wishing my crazy heart would stop trying to break out of my rib cage. ~ Wendy Higgins

Are you wanting to dance, too, Lord Ashton?" Eliza asked without any preliminaries when he stood before her. "I hope not. My feet hurt and I am tired."

The music began again, a lively gigue this time. "I wouldn't dream of it. If you wish, I will protect you from all such offers."

"Thank you, but there is one partner you cannot protect me from," she sighed looking past him. "He is coming my way."

Jeremy turned to see the king approaching.

"I am afraid it would be treason," he said, "but I gladly offer my head in the service of your feet. ~ Gina Black

When someone is tired, their judgment can be impaired. When they are dragging, it is hard for them to float above a problem and picture themselves and the problem in another place and time, so I gave them another directive: sleep. When you sleep, your brain is actually engaged in the neurochemical process of judgment. It is mapping connections and finding meaning among all the data you took in during the day. Tired people tend not to have the best judgment. ~ James Comey

Loving she realises is a verb. It is an act. It is not enough to say you love someone, and then forget about them, or trust a relationship will stay strong simply because you share a house or children or a life.
Loving requires acts of love. It requires thinking of your spouse, doing things for them to make them happy. It requires acting in loving ways, even when you are tired, or bogged down with work, or so stressed you are waking up every night with a jaw sore from grinding your teeth.
They forgot to do that, she now knows. They forgot to love each other. They expected love to continue, without putting any work into it, and today she knows this is why her marriage failed. ~ Jane Green

You have to work hard not to take your partner for granted, even when you are tired. ~ Nicole Ari Parker

He took another swallow of beer. "Are things as bad as they seem? Or have I just gotten old like my da, and now everything tastes a little bitter compared to when I was a boy?" Kote wiped at the bar for a long moment, as if reluctant to speak. "I think things are usually bad one way or another," he said. "It might be that only us older folk can see it." Graham began to nod, then frowned. "Except you're not old, are you? I forget that most times." He looked the red-haired man up and down. "I mean, you move around old, and you talk old, but you're not, are you? I'll bet you're half my age." He squinted at the innkeeper. "How old are you, anyway?" The innkeeper gave a tired smile. "Old enough to feel old. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

If he didn't frighten me, I'd be a bloody fool." Bronn gave a shrug. "Might be I could take him. Dance around him until he was so tired of hacking at me that he couldn't lift his sword. Get him off his feet somehow. When they're flat on their backs it don't matter how tall they are. Even so, it's chancy. One misstep and I'm dead. Why should I risk it? I like you well enough, ugly little whoreson that you are … but if I fight your battle, I lose either way. Either the Mountain spills my guts, or I kill him and lose Stokeworth. I sell my sword, I don't give it away. I'm not your bloody brother. ~ George R.R. Martin

Avoid the flourish. Do not be afraid to be weak. Do not be ashamed to be tired. You look good when you're tired. You look like you could go on forever. Now come into my arms. You are the image of my beauty . ~ Leonard Cohen

Rest in Peace?' Why that phrase? That's the most ridiculous phrase I've ever heard! You die, and they say 'Rest in Peace!' …Why would one need to 'rest' when they're dead?! I spent thousands of years of world history resting. While Agamemnon was leading his ships to Troy, I was resting. While Ovid was seducing women at the chariot races, I was resting. While Jeanne d'Arc was hallucinating, I was resting. I wait until airplanes are scuttling across the sky to burst out onto the scene, and I'm only going to be here for a short while, so when I die, I certainly won't need to rest again! Not while more adventures of the same kind are going on. ~ Roman Payne

It is not pleasant to experience decay, to find yourself exposed to the ravages of an almost daily rain, and to know that you are turning into something feeble, that more and more of you will blow off with the first strong wind, making you less and less. Some people accumulate more emotional rust than others. Depression starts out insipid, fogs the days into a dull color, weakens ordinary actions until their clear shapes are obscured by the effort they require, leaves you tired and bored and self-obsessed- but you can get through all that. No happily, perhaps, but you can get through. No one has ever been able to define the collapse point that marks major depression, but when you get there, there's not much mistaking it. ~ Andrew Solomon