She Will Remember Your Kindness Quotes

Kindness is the ability to love someone in such a way that she will remember your kindness for the rest of her life. ~ Debasish Mridha

Honestly, I wish I were dead.
Weeping many tears, she left me and said,
"Alas, how terribly we suffer, Sappho.
I really leave you against my will."
And I answered: "Farewell, go and remember me.
You know how we cared for you.
If not, I would remind you
... of our wonderful times.
For by my side you put on
many wreaths of roses
and garlands of flowers
around your soft neck.
And with precious and royal perfume
you anointed yourself.
On soft beds you satisfied your passion.
And there was no dance,
no holy place
from which we were absent. ~ Sappho

Just what do you think you're doing, Arin?"
He looked up at Sarsine, blearily rubbing his eyes. He had fallen asleep in a chair. It was full morning. "I couldn't sleep in my old rooms. At least here, in Etta's suite--"
"I'm not talking about your choice of bedchamber, though I can't help but notice how conveniently close it is to the east wing."
Arin winced. There was usually only one reason why a man kept a conquered woman prisoner after a battle. "This isn't what it seems."
"Oh, no? Too many people heard you call her a spoil of war."
"It's not true."
Sarsine threw her hands up in the air. "Then why did you say it?"
"Because I couldn't think of any other way to save her!"
Sarsine stood still. Then she leaned over him and shook his shoulder as if waking him from a nightmare. "You? Save a Valorian?"
Arin captured her hand. "Please listen to me."
"I will when you say something I can understand."
"I did your lessons for you, when we were children."
"So?"
"I told Anireh to shut up when she made fun of your nose. Do you remember? She pushed me down."
"Your sister was too beautiful for her own good. But all this was long ago. What's your point?"
Arin held both her hands now. "We share something, and probably not for very long. The Valorians will come. There will be a siege." He groped for what to say. "By the gods, just listen."
"Oh, Arin. Haven't you learned? The gods won't hear you." She sighed. "But ~ Marie Rutkoski

You have to remember, you are in a controlled environment. It may seem that your circumstances are out of control, but the Creator of the universe is in complete control. He has you in the palm of His hand. Nothing can happen to you without God's permission.
In fact, God is even in control of our enemies. The Scripture talks about how God caused Pharaoh to harden his heart and not let the people go. Notice that God caused him to be difficult. Why was that? So God could show His power in extraordinary ways.
When something unexpected happens and catches you off-guard, instead of falling apart and blaming God and panicking, your attitude should be: God, I know You are still on the throne. This is not a surprise to You. I know You wouldn't have allowed this unless You had a purpose. The surprise may look like a setback, but I know the truth. It's a setup for You to show Your power in a greater way. It's a setup for You to show my unbelieving co-workers Your greatness.
God's purpose in crises is to show not just His power but to show other people what He can do. If you will view that adversity as an opportunity for God to display His greatness, God will use you as an example. He wants your neighbors to say, "How in the world did she make it? The medical report said 'impossible,' but look at her today. She's as strong and healthy as can be." Or, "He was laid off at the worst possible time, but look at him now. He has an even better job than before."
God wants to ~ Joel Osteen

Anna's attention was focused on a single patient. Ariadne Bridgestock lay quietly against the white pillows. Her eyes were shut, and her rich brown skin was ashen, stretching tightly over the branching black veins beneath her skin.
Anna slipped in between the screens surrounding Ariadne's cot, and Cordelia followed, feeling slightly awkward. Was she intruding? But Anna looked up, as if to assure herself that Cordelia was there, before she knelt down at the side of Ariadne's bed, laying her walking stick on the floor.
Anna's bowed shoulders looked strangely vulnerable. One of her hands dangled at her side: she reached out the other, fingers moving slowly across the white linen sheets, until she was almost touching Ariadne's hand.
She did not take it. At the last moment, Anna's fingers curled and dropped to rest, beside Ariadne but not quite touching. In a low and steady voice, Anna said, "Ariadne. When you wake up - and you will wake up - I want you to remember this. It was never a sign of your worth that Charles Fairchild wanted to marry you. It is a measure of his lack of worth that he chose to break it off in such a manner."
"He broke it off?" Cordelia whispered. She was stunned. The breaking off of a promised engagement was a serious matter, undertaken usually only when one of the parties in question had committed some kind of serious crime or been caught in an affair. For Charles to break his promise to Ariadne while she lay unconscious was appalling. ~ Cassandra Clare

Are you hungry?" he asked, knowing that she must be starving.

"Yes, but I think-"

"We should go out on a date tonight? I totally agree," he said, cutting her off because he had a feeling that she was about to suggest something he wouldn't like.

"A date?" she repeated, sounding a bit confused.

"Yeah, a date," he said, grabbing her hands and pulling her to her feet while she still looked confused as hell. He gave her a little nudge to get her moving in the direction of the stairs. "You know where I pick you up, you keep me waiting for a half hour, we go out, and I charm you while you hang on my every word. We eat, we talk and then at the end of the night you invite me in for a cup of coffee and I pretend to think it over since I'm such a gentleman," he said, choosing to ignore her little snort of disbelief as he guided her towards the stairs.

"But-"

"No, buts," he said, giving her another nudge to get her up the stairs. "Get your little butt up there and put something on that will drive me out of my mind."

"But-"

"Go," he said, giving her another nudge that thankfully got her moving. "The sooner you get dressed the sooner you can start fawning over me like a proper date and remember just because I agreed to go out on this date with you doesn't mean that I'm easy. I expect you to do a little work to get me out of my pants."

He couldn't have his future wife thinking he was easy afte ~ R.L. Mathewson

When your wondering what to say, or how you look ... just remember ... she is already out with you. That means, she said yes, when she could've said no. That means she made a plan ... when she could've just blown you off. So that means it is no longer you job to make her like you ... It's is your job NOT TO MESS IT UP. ~ Will Smith

Ranulf stared blankly into the campfire, trying to ignore Lily.
"White horses always look dirty," Lily told the young smitten soldier sitting beside her. "That's why I refuse to ride them.Brown ones may be just as filthy,but at least I cannot see the dirt. Black ones less so,but I have found that in general dark horses suit me better."
"You just think you look better on them," Edythe protested before succumbing to several seconds of coughing.
Bronwyn studied her redheaded sister for a moment.Tyr put another blanket around Edythe's shoulders and eventually the coughs quieted. Turning her attention to Ranulf,Bronwyn promised him softly, "You'll have to ignore them."
Ranulf grimaced and sent a reproving look to his youngest sister-in-law. It,just like the others he had sent Lily throughout the day,changed nothing. "I just find it hard to reconcile the child I hear now with the woman who appeared after your death. With you gone,she had to grow up.Now that you are back..."
Bronwyn snuggled up against his side with a sigh. "I admit I encourage it.Life will force Lily to grow up soon enough and I am glad it was not my death that thrust it upon her. In the meantime,you ignore her prattle and I'll just be amused it," she advised before planting a gentle kiss on his arm.
Ranulf,with his free hand, raked his fingers through his short hair. How had he gotten into this predicament? But it took only one look at the huddled form next to him to remember exactly ~ Michele Sinclair

Chaos poked him again, and Blake welcomed the pain this time. This pain will remind me why I shouldn't find her.
Blake hated his weakness, but he let the pain transport him back to the clearing, to her face. He vowed it would be the last time, but he wanted to remember her noises and panting as he tasted her soft skin. She smelled like cinnamon.
Blake tried to see her face in his memory: trusting Livia, submitting to his hands and tongue. Instead he saw her pain as she told him she didn't see his skin turn to glass in the sun. She'd tried to hide her knowing.
Brave, beautiful Livia. She'd stood there waiting and never even flinched when he ran past. He could have plowed into her. Blake knew what it took to stay still when your mind screamed Run! A person had to find a place inside to die while things they didn't want happened to their body. ~ Debra Anastasia

There were times when I was blown away by the virgin beauty of the land. Kind of like that guy who lost his shit on the internet at the full double rainbow across the sky. Remember that guy? He kept asking what it meant, and it is not so difficult a question to answer. It means that we are loved, like all living things that Gaia sustains. There is a poetry in the canapes of forests and in the gentle roll of hills. A song in the wind and a benediction in the kiss of the sun. There are stories in the chuckle of waters in creeks and epics told in the tides of oceans. There are trees, Granuaile, that seem sometimes like they have grown all their lives just to feel the touch of my hand upon their trunks. They are so welcoming to me. You will feel that welcome in your hands some day. You'll feel it in your toes as you walk upon the earth. I cannot wait to see that love bloom in your eyes....' Tears glistened at the edges of her eyes... She knew precisely what I meant. She understood. And she became almost unbearably beautiful to me in that moment. ~ Kevin Hearne

All men fear death. It's a natural fear that consumes us all. We fear death because we feel that we haven't loved well enough or loved at all, which ultimately are one and the same. However, when you make love with a truly great woman, one that deserves the utmost respect in this world and one that makes you feel truly powerful, that fear of death completely disappears. Because when you are sharing your body and heart with a great woman the world fades away. You two are the only ones in the entire universe. You conquer what most lesser men have never conquered before, you have conquered a great woman's heart, the most vulnerable thing she can offer to another. Death no longer lingers in the mind. Fear no longer clouds your heart. Only passion for living, and for loving, become your sole reality. This is no easy task for it takes insurmountable courage. But remember this, for that moment when you are making love with a woman of true greatness you will feel immortal.
I believe that love that is true and real creates a respite from death. All cowardice comes from not loving or not loving well, which is the same thing. And when the man who is brave and true looks death squarely in the face like some rhino hunters I know or Belmonte, who is truly brave, it is because they love with sufficient passion to push death out of their minds. Until it returns, as it does to all men. And then you must make really good love again. Think about it. ~ Woody Allen

Do you think there'll be someone in the Xanti who'll remember your mother?"
Finn blew on the embers. "I don't know. We may not find the Xanti," he warned her.
Maia shrugged. "It doesn't matter. But if we do, will they accept me? I don't have any Indian blood."
"If they don't, we won't stay. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I've got my gun."
"I'm not scared," said Maia. And she wasn't. She'd been scared of the nastiness of the twins and of being shut up in the Carters' bungalow, but she wasn't scared of traveling through unknown lands with a boy hardly older than she was herself. She thought perhaps she wouldn't be scared of anything ever again if she was with Finn. ~ Eva Ibbotson

And how old are you, Miss Beckett?"
"Seventeen."
"What!" There is no way she's seventeen. I inspect her face, studying it intently, but don't know what it is I hope to find. Laugh lines maybe?
She watches my face. "Is my age a problem for you?"
"Hell, yeah, seventeen is a problem." I throw my napkin on the table. All of this has been a waste. "Forget it all. This whole thing is off."
"I don't act seventeen. I'm very mature for my age."
"No way. You're not even old enough to be drinking that wine." I lean in and whisper so no one will overhear. "I'm almost twice your age."
"I don't mind. I have daddy issues." She breaks into a huge grin and I hear a girlish giggle. That's when I realize she's fucking with me and has the ability to lie with a straight face. I'll have to remember that for future reference.
I'm not amused. "I see I have a comedienne on my hands. ~ Georgia Cates

Dear John Ambrose McClaren,

I know the exact day it all started. Fall, eighth grade. We got caught in the rain when we had to put all the softball bats away after gym. We started to run back to the building, and I couldn't run as fast as you, so you stopped and grabbed my bag too. It was even better than if you'd grabbed my hand. I still remember the way you looked--your T-shirt was stuck to your back, your hair wet like you just came out of the shower. When it started to pour, you whooped and hollered like a little kid. There was this moment--you looked back at me, and your grin was as wide as your face. You said, "Come on, LJ!"

It was right then. That's when I knew, all the way down to my soaking-wet Keds. I love you, John Ambrose McClaren. I really love you. I might have loved you for all of high school. I think you might have loved me back. If only you weren't moving away, John! It's so unfair when people move away. It's like their parents just decide something and no one else gets a say in it. Not that I even deserve a say--I'm not your girlfriend or anything. But you at least deserve a say.

I was really hoping that one day I would get to call you Johnny. Your mom came to get you after school once, and a bunch of us were hanging out on the front steps. And you didn't see her car, so she honked and called out, "Johnny!" I loved the sound of that. Johnny. One day, I bet your girlfriend will call you Johnny. She's really lucky. Maybe you alr ~ Jenny Han

In a very deliberate motion, he squared my shoulders in front of his and clasped my arms. "I know I could never ask you to leave River Oaks. It means a lot more to you than my family's house means to me. Your aunt Jettie is there. It's your home. I would like it to be my home, too. I want to make a life with you, and for most people, that means living in the same house."
Gabriel kissed me, as gentle as an angel's wing brushing across my lips. "You're my bloodmate in every sense of the word, the person I choose to spend the rest of my immortal life with, if you can stand me that long."
"That's what that means?" My forehead wrinkled in concentration, and I tried to remember the first time I'd hear that word. "Wait, you told Missy the crazy Realtor that she'd suffer dire consequences if she hurt your 'bloodmate.' That was more than a year ago."
"I knew even then. You're it for me, Jane. You're my eternity."
"Well, why couldn't you have told me?" I exclaimed.
Gabriel shrugged. "You - "
"I wasn't ready to hear it yet," I finished for him. "I'm sorry." But as the enormity of what Gabriel had just said sunk in, a huge grin split my face.
I brought it under control, so I could narrow my eyes at him. "So, you're saying you will tell me everything now. You won't try to protect me or keep me in the dark. You'll trust me to make a rational decision about bad news after I have my inevitable, initial panic attack?"
He nodded solemnly. "I will."
~ Molly Harper

I remember the first time I saw you," Allie said.
"I thought you smelled me first."
"Right," said Allie. "The chocolate. But then I saw you as I sat up in the dead forest, thinking I knew you. At the time, I thought I must have seen you through the windshield when our cars crashed…. But that wasn't it. I think, way back then, I was seeing you as you are now. Isn't that funny?"
"Not as funny as the way I always complained, and the way you always bossed me around!"
They embraced and held each other for a long time.
"Don't forget me," Nick said. "No matter where your life goes, no matter how old you get. And if you ever get the feeling that someone is looking over your shoulder, but there's nobody there, maybe it'll be me."
"I'll write to you," said Allie, and Nick laughed. "No really. I'll write the letter then burn it, and if I care just enough it will cross into Everlost."
"And," added Nick, "it will show up as a dead letter at that the post office Milos made cross into San Antonio!"
Allie could have stood there saying good-bye forever, because it was more than Nick she was saying good-bye to. She was leaving behind four years of half-life in a world that was both stunningly beautiful, and hauntingly dark. And she was saying good-bye to Mikey. I'll be waiting for you, he had said…. Well, if he was, maybe she wasn't saying good-bye at all.
Nick hefted the backpack on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be heading off to Memphis?" he said. ~ Neal Shusterman

He nodded slowly. "We'll do it your way for now, but my time will come."
Why that statement sent a jagged pulse of heat racing through her; she wasn't certain.
"You've changed," she finally said. "You're harder, Cam. Colder."
"I'm still the man who would kill for you," he stated matter-of-factly.
Jaci swallowed tightly. He was completely serious.
"Fine. I'll make a list for you." She finally shrugged, opting not to believe that declaration. "Give me a few days. It may take awhile to remember every son of a bitch who ever pissed me off. But what will you do when you find your name on the list? ~ Lora Leigh

He turned her chin until she looked him in the face. "I'm going to tell you a couple things, and I want you to remember this. Number one, I'm a Navy SEAL. You can't even compare me to most men, so don't lump me in with them." He waited for her laughter to subside. "Number two, I don't care what you've been told or by whom. Your body fucking rocks. Men don't want to make love to twigs. Way more than will admit it want a lush, cushioning body to welcome them home." Reaching out, he cupped her hips in his hands, tugging her into him. "I would not change anything about you. Not one single thing. ~ J.M. Madden

you to take part in an illegal secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also" - Sirius's eyes turned to the other two - "advises Harry and Hermione not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over either of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and she can't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight. ~ J.K. Rowling

You could me practice. They wouldn't have to know." I don't even feel like practicing. I just seems I should get in the water on principal, since Galen told me not to. And especially since he left me with a babysitter.
She throws me a sideways glare. "Fat Lips would know. He can sense me from anywhere, remember? An he'd snitch to Galen. He would know something's wrong if you and me got in without my brother."
I shrug. "Since when do you care about getting in trouble?"
"Since never. But Galen said if I kept you out of the water, he'd teach me how to drive his car."
Jackpot. "I happen to know how to drive. I could teach you."
"Galen said I wasn't allowed to ask you, or the deal's off."
"You didn't ask me. I offered."
She nods, biting her lip. "That's true. You did."
I set the book on the ugly glass coffee table and squat next to her. "I'll teach you how to drive if you let me get in the water. You don't even have to get in."
The way she raises her brow reminds me of Galen. "You're wasting your time trying to change if you ask me. You're half human. You probably don't even have a fin in there."
"What do you know about the half-breeds?"
She shrugs. "Not much. Enough to know that if you're one of them, there's no point in trying to change. No one is going to accept you. At least, no Syrena will."
I decide not to take offense. I don't put much stock in her opinion anyway, and she won't care if she offended me or not. ~ Anna Banks

Aye," the prince said. "I told the story to Ser Balon, but not all of it. As the children splashed in the pools, Daenerys watched from amongst the orange trees, and a realization came to her. She could not tell the highborn from the low. Naked, they were only children. All innocent, all vulnerable, all deserving of long life, love, protection. "There is your realm," she told her son and heir, "remember them, on everything you do." My own mother said those same words to me when I was old enough to leave the pools. It is an easy thing for a prince to call the spears, but in the end the children pay the price. For their sake, the wise prince will wage non war without good cause, nor any war he cannot hope to win.
"I am not blind, nor deaf. I know that you all believe me weak, frightened, feeble. Your father knew me better. Oberyn was ever the viper. Deadly, dangerous, unpredictable. No man dared tread on him. I was the grass. Pleasant, complaisant, sweet-smelling, swaying with every breeze. Who fears to walk upon the grass? But it is the grass that hides the viper from his enemies and shelters him until he strikes. Your father and I worked more closely than you know...but now he is gone. The question is, can I trust his daughters to serve me in his place? ~ George R.R. Martin

Charlotte: Giordano is terribly afraid Gwyneth will get everything wrong tomorrow that she can get wrong.
Gideon: Pass the olive oil, please.
Charlotte: Politics and history are a closed book to Gwyneth. She can't even remember names - they go in at one ear and straight out of the other. She can't help it, her brain doesn't have the capacity. It's stuffed with the names of boy bands and long, long cast lists of actors in soppy romantic films.
Raphael: Gwyneth is your time-traveling cousin, right? I saw her yesterday in school. Isn't she the one with long dark hair and blue eyes?
Charlotte: Yes, and that birthmark on her temple, the one that looks like a little banana.
Gideon: Like a little crescent moon.
Raphael: What's that friend of hers called? The blonde with freckles? Lily?
Charlotte: Lesley Hay. Rather brighter than Gwyneth, but she's a wonderful example of the way people get to look like their dogs. Hers is a shaggy golden retriever crossbreed called Bertie.
Raphael: That's cute!
Charlotte: You like dogs?
Raphael: Especially golden retriever crossbreeds with freckles.
Charlotte: I see. Well, you can try your luck. You won't find it particularly difficult. Lesley gets through even more boys than Gwyneth.
Gideon: Really? How many . . . er, boyfriends has Gwyneth had?
Charlotte: Oh, my God! This is kind of embarrassing. I don't want to speak ill of her, it's just that she's not very discriminating. Particula ~ Kerstin Gier

As for you and your heart and the things you said and didn't say, she will remember them all when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits. ~ Peter S. Beagle

Changing Expectations by Estimating Probability

A step in correcting your inaccurate expectations is to figure out how likely it is that what you fear will occur. Here are four ways to estimate the probability of an event:

1.Remember past experiences. If you are afraid that no one will speak with you at the party, think about other parties you have attended. Have you ever been to a social gathering where no one spoke to you? Chances are that you probably have not.

2.Look at general rules. If you are worried about spilling something, look at your general experience with how people deal with spills. When someone else spilled, did everyone laugh and gossip about that person? Most likely, they didn't. Spills happen all the time, especially at parties where people are carrying food and drinks. The general rule about spills is that they are usually cleaned up quickly without much fuss.

3.Think about alternate explanations. What you expect is only one possibility. There are also many other possibilities for why something happens. For instance, if a friend from summer camp stops e-mailing you, you might think he or she has decided you are not a good friend. However, there are many other possibilities. He or she simply may be very busy or maybe he or she has forgotten that you wrote last.

4.Practice role reversal. This is one of the best methods for realizing how critical you are of yourself. Pretend that whatever you fear actuall ~ Heather Moehn

Bernice Pruitt: My dad says that childhood is the happiest time of my life. But, I think he's wrong. I think my mom's right. She says that...

[Bernice's voice fades as Birdee takes over]

Birdee Pruitt: [laughing] Childhood is what you spend the rest of your life trying to overcome. That's what momma always says. She says that beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up. And it will, too... ~ Hope Floats

It is the way of the people," he responded again and again. "I will not interferre.Howling Wolf did what he thought would keep his wife."
Jesse was outraged, "And if I looked at another handsome brave,would Rides the Wind cut off my nose?"
Rides the Wind stared at her solemnly. "God's book has said that you must be faithful to me.We do not live as Howling Wolf and Prairie Flower." After a moment he added, "And if you were unfaithful to me, I would cut off your beautiful red hair, not your nose.For it is your hair that makes you beautiful."
Jesse refused to be distracted from the conversation. Finally,Rides the Wind became exasperated with her insistence. "Walks the Fire,it is enough," he almost shouted. "You say that Howling Wolf must be punished. He will bepunished. For all the days of his life he will have to look at the scar where he has hurt his wife.All the days of his life he will have to endure the sadness he has caused. And all the days of her life, Prairie Flower will remember when she was young and beautiful. White EAgle has left.It is over. We must pray for them, for they do not have God to help them. But I will not punish Howling Wolf for going what is his right among the Lakota. He will answer to God for what he has done. He does not have to answer to me. ~ Stephanie Grace Whitson

Remember something, if you will, about voting: Voting is not a horse race, you're not going there thinking "Gee, I gotta pick the winner so I can brag to my friends 'Oh, I picked so-and-so and he or she won'". Voting is voting your heart and voting your conscience and when you've done that, don't ever, EVER let a Democrat or Republican tell you that you've wasted your vote because the fact is, if you DON'T vote your heart and conscience then you HAVE wasted your vote. ~ Jesse Ventura

History is a funny little creature. Do you remember visiting your old Aunt that autumn when the trees shone so very yellow, and how she owned a striped and unsocial cat, quite old and fat and wounded about the ears and whiskers, with a crooked, broken tail? That cat would not come to you no matter how you coaxed and called; it had its own business, thank you, and no time for you. But as the evening wore on, it would come and show some affection or favor to your Aunt, or your Father, or the old end-table with the stack of green coasters on it. You couldn't predict who that cat might decide to love, or who it might decide to bite. You couldn't tell what it thought or felt, or how old it might really be, or whether it would one day, miraculously, decide to let you put one hand, very briefly, on its dusty head.

History is like that.

Of course, unlike your Aunt's cat, history is going on all around you, all the time, and is often quite lively. Sometimes it rests in a sunbeam for a peaceful century or two, but on the whole, history is always plotting, and it bites very hard. It stalks around the world, fickle and dissatisfied and often angry. It demands to be fed just a little earlier each day, until you find yourself carving meat from the bone as fast as you can, faster than you thought possible, just to satisfy it. Some people have a kind of marvelous talent for calming it and enticing it onto their laps. To some it will never even spare a glance. ~ Catherynne M. Valente

Courage, traveler. Weird. It's coming from inside her. Hold your little map and shout to the darkness, it says. Shout this: You are nothing, darkness, against something as old as love. Shout: I will walk right through you, darkness, because I am, and I will be. This boldness-she's felt it before. In the truck, when she first saw Billy. No, before that, when she was brave, so brave, and brought Anna to the shore. This is how you save yourself? This small voice inside? This microscopic cell of belief, allowed to divide? Yep. Uh-huh. The voice is your own personal sword and shield-remember that. Remember that every hard day. ~ Deb Caletti

The week passed by swiftly, like a dream ... a dream where minutes flew as rapidly as heartbeats. Such a breathless week when something within her drove Scarlett with mingled pain and pleasure to pack and cram every minute with incidents to remember after he was gone, happenings which she could examine at leisure in the long months ahead, extracting every morsel of comfort from them - dance, sing, laugh, fetch and carry for Ashley, anticipate his wants, smile when he smiles, be silent when he talks, follow him with your eyes so that each line of his erect body, each lift of his eyebrows, each quirk of his mouth, will be indelibly printed on your mind - for a week goes by so fast and the war goes on forever. ~ Margaret Mitchell

Chapter Eleven

She did not spend long in the supermarket at Riverwalk, confining her purchases to supplies she would need for the next few days. There was beef for stew, a large pumpkin, a packet of beans, a dozen eggs, and two loaves of bread. The pumpkin looked delicious - almost perfectly round and deep yellow in colour, it sat on the passenger seat beside her so comfortably as she drove out of the car park, so pleased to be what it was, that she imagined conducting a conversation with it, telling it about the Orphan Farm and Mma Potokwane and her concerns over Mma Makutsi. And the pumpkin would remain silent, of course, but would somehow indicate that it knew what she was talking about, that there were similar issues in the world of pumpkins.

She smiled. There was no harm, she thought, in allowing your imagination to run away with you, as a child's will do, because the thoughts that came in that way could be a comfort, a relief in a world that could be both sad and serious. Why not imagine a talk with a pumpkin? Why not imagine going off for a drive with a friendly pumpkin, a companion who would not, after all, answer back; who would agree with everything you said, and would at the end of the day appear on your plate as a final gesture of friendship? Why not allow yourself a few minutes of imaginative silliness so that you could remember what it was like when you believed such things, when you were a child at the feet of your grandmother, listening t ~ Alexander McCall Smith

Harvest

Do not let a woman with a sexy rump deceive you
with wheedling and coaxing words; she is after your barn.
-Hesiod

Shall we gather the sunset
pluck what is ripe
harness the cicada's song?
Even if this isn't the season
of new love
let us remember the buds
and reap what we can.
No crop is too small.
No harvest too lean.
The grain will yield.
So scatter and slash
call in the cows
and let us milk them all dry.
Plow as you will.
Bulldoze away.
Why not make every season
our season
each day
our day
to till and tease
to clear and seed
to plant and replant
as we please.
Come
my sweet smell of hay
do not be deceived
by Hesiod.
He says that I am
after your barn.
I want the whole
fucking farm! ~ Nancy Boutilier

There was a few seconds' pause. Then Amit said: I meant, what were you thinking just now.

When? said Lata.

When you were looking at Pran and Savita. Over the pudding.

Oh.

Well, what?

I can't remember, said Lata with a smile.

Amit laughed.

Why are you laughing? asked Lata

I like making you feel uncomfortable, I suppose.

Oh. Why?

--Or happy--or puzzled--just to see your change of mood. It's such fun. I pity you!

Why? said Lata, startled.

Because you'll never know what a pleasure it is to be in your company.

Do stop talking like that, said Lata. Ma will come in any minute.

You're quite right. In that case: Will you marry me?

Lata dropped her cup. It fell to the floor and broke. She looked at the broken pieces--luckily, it has been empty--and then at Amit.

Quick! said Amit. Before they come running to see what's happened. Say yes.

Lata had knelt down; she was gathering he bits of the cup together and placing them on the delicately patterned blue-and-gold saucer.

Amit joined her on the floor. Her face was only a few inches away from his, but her mind appeared to be somewhere else. he wanted to kiss her but he sensed that there was no question of it. One by one she picked up the shards of china.

Was it a family heirloom? asked Amit.

What? I'm sorry--said Lata, snap ~ Vikram Seth

You've passed like three stores that sell batteries," she says. "We need to get one now in case it's too late on our way back."

"You don't need a battery. Your battery is fine," I say.
I avoid looking over at her but I can see her watching me, waiting for more explanation.

I don't immediately respond. I flick the blinker on and turn onto my grandparent's street. When I pull into their driveway, I turn the car off and tell her the truth. What harm could it do at this point?

"I unhooked your battery cable before you tried to leave today." I don't wait for her reaction as I get out of the car and slam the door. I'm not sure why I slam the car door. I'm not mad at her, I'm just frustrated. Frustrated that she doubts me after all this time.

"You what!?" she yells. When she gets out of the car, she slams her door intentionally.

I keep walking, shielding the wind and snow with my jacket until I reach the front door. She rushes after me. I almost walk inside without knocking but remember how it feels, so I knock.

"I said I unhooked your battery cable. How else was I going to convince you to ride with me?"

"That's real mature, Will. ~ Colleen Hoover

I thought she was sleeping until I heard her call out from across the room, "Will you bring me a glass of water?" I did. Then in her always-sleepy tone and drawl she said, "Do you remember when you were a little boy and you would ask your mama to bring you a glass of water?" Yeah. "You know how half the time you weren't even thirsty. You just wanted that hand that was attached to that glass that was attached to that person you just wanted to stay there until you fell asleep." She took the glass of water that I brought her and just sat it down full on the table next to her. Wow, I thought. What am I gonna do with love like this. ~ Dito Montiel