So Deep In The Friend Zone Quotes

May there be great peace and happiness in your lives! May society become a better place and those that are hurting deep down inside feel great about themselves and to those that hate the world as well as everything still, fight that ball of bitterness that lives within you. The world may not care about you so you have to care about yourself and take care of yourself or go to places for asylum & serenity. Don't feel ashamed or make the world give you the impression because of negative stereotypes that you shouldn't because humans are about themselves and their personal issues. At the end of the day, who knows you better than yourself? Perhaps close friends? God? But may God be a God of peace for you. And if you don't have any true friends, remember one genuine friend is better than a thousand fake friends. ~ Krystal Volney

Okay, maybe it wasn't some reason. He was handsome. Like, wow, that's a handsome guy, and then you nudge your friend and get her to take a look as well. That kind of handsome. Though I couldn't see him straight on, he had a nice, strong face, broad nose with a bump on the bridge, and just the right amount of stubble on his cheeks and jaw. His deep-set eyes looked rich brown, his longish, thick hair a shade darker than that and his brows even more so. I couldn't tell how tall he was, he was at least a few inches taller than I was, but his body was fit and lean. His stomach looked washboard flat under his white dress shirt and his forearms that peeked out from the rolled up sleeves were muscular, the same color as wet sand, a beach in the afternoon light. ~ Karina Halle

We have all been hurt at some point in our lives, from a spouse, a friend, an employer, a co-worker,a pastor and sometimes the wounds are so deep we wonder if they will ever heal. ~ Michael Richard Stosic

Rallick will kill you," Murillio said levelly.

"Nonsense." Kruppe placed the mask over his face. "How will the lad ever recognize Kruppe?"

Murillio studied the man's round body, the faded red waistcoat, gathered cuffs, and the short oily curls atop his head. "Never mind." He sighed.

"Excellent," Kruppe said. "Now, please accept these two masks, gifts from your friend Kruppe. A trip is saved, and Baruk need not wait any longer for a secret message that must not be mentioned." He replaced his mask in its box, then spun round to study the eastern skyline. "Off to yon alchemist's abode, then. Good evening, friend - "

"Wait a minute," Murillio said, grasping Kruppe's arm and turning him round. "Have you seen Coll?"

"Why, of course. The man sleeps a deep, recovering sleep from his ordeals.'Twas healed magically, Sulty said. By some stranger, yet. Coll himself was brought in by yet a second stranger, who found a third stranger, who in turn brought a fifth stranger in the company of the stranger who healed Coll. And so it goes, friend Murillio. Strange doings, indeed. Now, Kruppe must be off. Goodbye, friend - "

"Not yet," Murillio snarled. He glanced around. The street was still empty. He leaned close. "I've worked some things out, Kruppe. Circle Breaker contacting me put everything into order in my mind. I know who you are."

"Aaai!" Kruppe cried, withdrawing. "I'll not deny it, then! It's true, Murillio, K ~ Steven Erikson

How to Perform Visualization

To practice visualization, sit in a comfortable position and relax any muscle tension. Once you feel relaxed, begin to visualize a pleasant scene. Imagine every aspect of the scene, using all of your senses. For instance, if you visualize sitting on a beach watching the ocean waves lapping against the shore, imagine first what the scene looks like, then imagine how the sand feels on your bare feet. Take a deep breath and imagine how the clean ocean air smells and tastes. Next, listen for the sounds of the waves and seagulls.
As you become more involved with your mental picture, your body will relax and you will be able to let go of your worrisome thoughts. It often helps to make positive, affirmative statements, such as "I feel calm and relaxed," while practicing to block negative thoughts more effectively. You could picture also an image that represents the tension you feel when you begin, such as a kite that is stuck in a tree getting more and more tangled. As you become relaxed, imagine the string loosening and the kite becoming free and soaring in the sky.
With practice, you will be able to use this technique to help yourself relax whenever you feel distressed.

Lori spent last Thanksgiving at her best friend Haley's house. Most of the members of Haley's large, extended family were there. Everyone was talking at once, the children were running around, and Lori felt completely overwhelmed. It was so different fro ~ Heather Moehn

In the shores of twilight,
Wide and deep as your eyes,
I swim.
In a way, I feel her

Night, a crowned goddess commanding the stars to swim,
So peaceful, even death escapes into serenity.
Stars so far, they seem as they tell the living world,
lights, live into shinning, die into nothingness.
Worlds I want to travel, away to shadows of your eyes in the hold of your lips.
So far, so far away....
As your kiss, as my lover.

Night,
With a soft touch,
Touches my face, winds to the trees, sunlight on grass, life, breath, so quite, death screams in the abyss, a black pearl with grains of sand.

The dance of the night..reminds me of her.
Her tender laughter, the gleam in her
enormous eyes, her soft whirlpool lips.
As a reflection from dark streams,
She reveals hot love,
Nothing hidden, no shame,
just love that hurts.
The solace in the night makes me cry...
The lights of stars as arrows to me.

Night,
Hits my eyes,
Beauty of the wilderness,
Calling me,
Homeless in a city, naked on cold steel
At home with the sea,
with night above,
foam of waters breaks below.
As my companion,
friend I speak to.
I say to the night sky.
Does she love me?
When travels of the heart goes outside of me, outside the seas into clouds of your warmth,
To another place in her heart tryin ~ Albert Alexander Bukoski

From the earth, from the air, sustaining forces pour into us
mostly from the earth. To no man does the earth mean so much as to the soldier. When he presses himself down upon her long and powerfully, when he buries his face and his limbs deep in her from the fear of death by shell-fire, then she is his only friend, his brother, his mother; he stifles his terror and his cries in her silence and her security; she shelters him and releases him fro ten seconds to live, to run, ten seconds of life; receives him again and often for ever. ~ Erich Maria Remarque

I went camping one time when I was twelve, to the Great Lakes. My friend stepped in really deep muddy water and started screaming and sinking. My mom ran up, and I was just standing there a foot away and wouldn't stick out my hand to pull him up. So I'm probably not the best person to take on a camping trip. ~ Norman Reedus

I told my best friend in the world, my sister.
"Okay, so I'm not going now," I told Betsy over the phone. I'd awakened her from a deep collegiate sleep.
"Going where?" she asked groggily.
"Chicago," I continued.
"What?" she shrieked. That woke her up. That woke her up but good.
"I'm, like, totally in love," I said. "I'm totally in love with the Marlboro Man." I giggled wildly.
"Oh, God," she said. "Are you gonna get married to him and move out to the boonies and have his babies?"
"No!" I exclaimed. "I'm not moving to the boonies. But I might have his babies." I giggled wildly again.
"What about Chicago?" Betsy asked.
"Well…but…," I argued. "You have to see him in his Wranglers."
Betsy paused. "Well, so much for this conversation. I've gotta go back to sleep anyway--I've got class at noon and I'm exhausted…"
"And you should see him in his cowboy boots," I continued.
"Alrighty, then…"
"Okay, well, don't worry about me," I continued. "I'll just be here, kissing the Marlboro Man twenty-four hours a day in case you need me."
"Whatever…," Betsy said, trying hard not to laugh.
"Okay, well…study hard!" I told her.
"Yep," she replied.
"And don't sleep around," I admonished.
"Gotcha," Betsy replied. She was used to this.
"And don't smoke crack," I added.
"Righty-oh," she replied, yawning.
"Don't skip class, either," I warned.
"You mean, like you did?" Betsy retorted.
"Well ~ Ree Drummond

Okay, listen to me one more time. I find you very beautiful, and I'm not going to be some guy who leaves you hanging like that idiot did yesterday evening. I am willing to show you what a real woman can do to please you in every way."

Jana stood they're just looking at Angel dumbstruck, unsure what to say. She just thought of what to say next, but nothing came to words. Jana sat on the couch without a word. Angel sat next to her.

"I am sorry for being so honest with you. But since I met you yesterday evening, I just can't and won't let my feelings go without knowing." She sighed. She just wished Jana could feel the same about her as she did about Jana.

Jana looked at Angel. Her eyes were full of questions.

"Why me? Out of all the women in this world, you choose me. I'm nothing compared to anyone else and my best friend Destiny has the life I want and crave for."

Angel smiled and hugged Jana. She didn't try to leave her embrace. Angel counted that as a small win.

"That is where you are blind on. Women that are friends or couples can have all that as well. Please, just give me a chance to show you and will go from there."

Jana took a deep breath looking down at her hands. She was still deciding if she should accept Angel's suggestion.

"Are you sure about this? I mean we just met, and I am not sure what to think of all this? I wouldn't even know what to tell anyone that knows me?"

~ Amber M. Kestner

Well, dear heart,' said he, 'I wanted to tell you about it yesterday, and I have come to do so today. I've never experienced anything like it before. I am in love, my friend!' Suddenly Pierre heaved a deep sigh and dumped his heavy person down on the sofa beside Prince Andrei. 'With Natasha Rostova, yes?' said he. ~ Leo Tolstoy

Not long after I'd first met Doc, we were sitting on our rock on the hill behind the rose garden and I had asked him why I was a sinner and what I had done to be condemned to eternal hell fire unless I was born again.
He sat for a long time looking over the valley, and then he said, :Peekay, God is too busy making the sun come up and go down and watching so the moon floats just right in the sky to be concerned with such rubbish. Only man ants always God should be there to condemn this on and save that one. Always it is man who wants to make heaven and hell. God is too busy training the bees to make honey and every morning opening up all the new flowers for business."He paused and smiled "In Mexico there is a cactus that even sometimes you would think God forgets. But no, my friend, this is not so. On a full moon in the desert every one hundred years he remembers and he opens up a single flower to bloom. And if you should be there and you see this beautiful cactus blossom painted silver by the moon and laughing up at the stars, this, Peekay, is heaven.: He looked at me, his deep blue eyes sharp and penetrating. "This is the faith in God the cactus has". We had sat for a while before he spoke again. "it is better just to get on with the business living and minding your own business and maybe, if God likes the way you do things, he may just let you flower for a day or a night. But don't go pestering and begging and telling him all your stupid little sins, that way you will ~ Bruce Courtenay

Humans and other animals experience love and fear, and form deep emotional bonds with cherished companions. We mourn when a close friend dies, and so do other animals, as Barbara King's poignant book illustrates in compelling detail. How Animals Grieve helps us to connect and to better understand the complex social lives of other animals and of ourselves. ~ Gene Baur

Substances start out being so magically great, so much the interior jigsaw's missing piece, that at the start you just know, deep in your gut, that they'll never let you down; you just know it. But they do. And then this goofy slapdash anarchic system of low-rent gatherings and corny slogans and saccharin grins and hideous coffee is so lame you just know there's no way it could ever possibly work except for the utterest morons ... and then Gately seems to find out AA turns out to be the very loyal friend he thought he'd had and then lost, when you Came In. ~ David Foster Wallace

Here is Abraham Lincoln's touching condolence letter to 22-year-old Fanny McCullough, the daughter of a long-time friend:

"Dear Fanny

It is with deep grief that I learn of the death of your kind and brave Father; and, especially, that it is affecting your young heart beyond what is common in such cases. In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to all; and, to the young, it comes with bitterest agony, because it takes them unawares. The older have learned to ever expect it. I am anxious to afford some alleviation of your present distress. Perfect relief is not possible, except with time. You can not now realize that you will ever feel better. Is not this so? And yet it is a mistake. You are sure to be happy again. To know this, which is certainly true, will make you some less miserable now. I have had experience enough to know what I say; and you need only to believe it, to feel better at once. The memory of your dear Father, instead of an agony, will yet be a sad sweet feeling in your heart, of a purer and holier sort than you have known before.
Please present my kind regards to your afflicted mother.
Your sincere friend,
A. Lincoln ~ Abraham Lincoln

Scripture calls you a hiding place, a mighty tower, a shield to those who put their trust in you. Yet sometimes evil penetrates your defenses. Helen bit her lower lip. I never understood why. She lifted her chin and squinted at the sky. But deep in my soul, I believe you are good. I believe you are strong. And I believe that I don't have to understand everything. I just have to trust. So that's what I'm going to do. Trust you to take care of my friend. Please be her shield. And don't let evil win. ~ Karen Witemeyer

I Love Loving You

You are my favorite song; a rhythm of beauty that captures my spirit.

You are my favorite poem; an exquisite grouping of ideas set in motion with an unmatched enchanting elegance.

You are my best friend; from our laughter to our deep conversations, our moments together are a timeless pleasure.

You are my soul mate; a connection so pure, so powerful, that it can only be considered divine.

You are my lover; a passionate entwinement, a chorus of ecstasy, and a feeling of complete unity that words could never adequately describe.

You are my angel; you remind me of the goodness in this world and inspire me to be the greatest version of myself.

You are my home; it is in your loving gaze that I find the comfort, acceptance, and the sense of belonging.

You are my love ~ mi amor; there are not enough days in forever to allow me to fully express my love for you.

I love loving you. ~ Steve Maraboli

Her eyes, always sad, now looked into the mirror with particular hopelessness. "She's flattering me," thought the princess, and she turned away and went on reading. Julie, however, was not flattering her friend: indeed, the princess's eyes, large, deep, and luminous (sometimes it was as if rays of light came from them in sheaves), were so beautiful that very often, despite the unattractiveness of the whole face, those eyes were more attractive than beauty. But the princess had never seen the good expression of thise eyes, the expression they had in moments when she was not thinking of herself. As with all people, the moment she looked in the mirror, her face assumed a strained, unnatural, bad expression. ~ Leo Tolstoy

THERE ARE FEW THINGS as beautiful as a glass bottle filled with deep amber whiskey. Liquor shines when the light hits it, reminiscent of precious things like jewels and gold. But whiskey is better than some lifeless bracelet or coronet. Whiskey is a living thing capable of any emotion that you are. It's love and deep laughter and brotherhood of the type that bonds nations together. Whiskey is your friend when nobody else comes around. And whiskey is solace that holds you tighter than most lovers can. I thought all that while looking at my sealed bottle. And I knew for a fact that it was all true. True the way a lover's pillow talk is true. True the way a mother's dreams for her napping infant are true. But the whiskey mind couldn't think its way out of the problems I had. So I took Mr. Seagram's, put him in his box, and placed him up on the shelf where he belonged. ~ Walter Mosley

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

If I could write an autobiography for fear, it would read like this:
__________

Hi, my name is Fear. F-E-A-R. But you are going to call me a lot of other things as you start to get closer to me. I'm terribly unoriginal. I'm like every has-been out there, but you give me way more credit than I deserve. You should keep doing that. I like it when you make me bigger than I actually am. I'm going to make you feel alone, and I like it when you believe you're the only one who's ever felt this way. You think I'm custom-catered to fit you, but I'm really no different than the brand of me your best friend wears. I'm a ballad lurking in the hearts of a billion people, and I will do anything to keep you from realizing that I am just the same song on repeat. You all know all my words.
I'm pretty jealous though. I want you alone with me at night. I'm not afraid to say I'm greedy or that I don't want to share you. I'm a territorial lover, and I would rather you not have solid and deep conversations at dinner parties or find a community that doesn't leave your side. I wrote you a story a long time ago, and I don't want you to figure out that you've outgrown the plotline.
I wonder why you don't get over me sometimes, but then the realization hits me: You come back because you know I want you. You come back because you know the sound of my voice. You come back because you know the way I move and how I shut you down. You've stood face-to-face with me so many times and ~ Hannah Brencher

The First [Friend] is the alter ego, the man who first reveals to you that you are not alone in the world by turning out (beyond hope) to share all your most secret delights. There is nothing to be overcome in making him your friend; he and you join like raindrops on a window. But the Second Friend is the man who disagrees with you about everything. He is not so much the alter ego as the antiself. Of course he shares your interests; otherwise he would not become your friend at all. But he has approached them all at a different angle. He has read all the right books but has got the wrong thing out of every one. It is as if he spoke your language but mispronounced it. How can he be so nearly right and yet, invariably, just not right? He is as fascinating (and infuriating) as a woman. When you set out to correct his heresies, you will find that he forsooth to correct yours! And then you go at it, hammer and tongs, far into the night, night after night, or walking through fine country that neither gives a glance to, each learning the weight of the other's punches, and often more like mutually respectful enemies than friends. Actually (though it never seems so at the time) you modify one another's thought; out of this perpetual dogfight a community of mind and a deep affection emerge. ~ C.S. Lewis

We all want to be stars. The idea of being revered and envied must be encoded somewhere deep in our DNA. So must the desire to revere and envy others we imagine to be better, more accepted, and more popular than we are. The only problem is that the most necessary qualities required to be a celebrity
self-absorption, egomania, shamelessness
are the least attractive in a friend. ~ Tonya Hurley

I suspect, however, that the thing that confuses you about Ian is that he's half Scot. In many ways he's more Scot than English, which accounts for what you're calling a ruthless streak. He'll do what he pleases, when he pleases, and the devil fly with the consequences. He always has. He doesn't care what anyone thinks of him or of what he does."
Pausing, Jordan glanced meaningfully at the couple who'd paused to look at a shrubbery on the front lawn. Ian was listening to Elizabeth intently, an expression of tenderness on his rugged face. "The other night, however, he cared very much what people thought of your lovely friend. In fact, I don't like to think what he might have done had anyone actually dared to openly insult her in front of him. You're right when you aren't deceived by Ian's civilized veneer. Beneath that he's a Scot, and he has a temper to go with it, though he usually keeps it in check."
"I don't think you're reassuring me," Alex said shakily.
"I should be. He's committed himself completely to her. That commitment is so deep that he even reconciled with his grandfather and then appeared with him in public, which I know was because of Elizabeth."
"What on earth makes you think that?"
"For one thing, when I saw Ian at the Blackmore he had no plans for the evening until he discovered what Elizabeth was going to do at the Willingtons'. The next I knew, he was walking into that ball with his grandfather at his side. And that, my love, is wha ~ Judith McNaught

I had some serious problems.
My best friend counted me with his enemies.
Victoria was still on the loose, putting everyone I loved in danger.
If I didn't become a vampire soon, the Volturi would kill me.
And now it seemed if I did, the Quileute werewolves would try to do the job themselves―along with trying to kill my future familiy. I didn't think they had any chance really, but would my best friend get himself killed in the attempt?
Very serious problems. So why did they all suddenly seem insignificant when we broke through the last of the trees and I caught sight of the expression on Charlie's purple face?
Edward squeezed me gently. "I'm here."
I drew in a deep breath.
That was true. Edward was here, with his arms around me.
I could face anything as long as that was true.
I squared my shoulders and walked forward to meet my fate, with my destiny solidly at my side. ~ Stephenie Meyer

My friend (if I may still call him that) believed in humanity, and so he also believed in order, in the order of painting and the order of words, since words are what we paint with. He believed in redemption. Deep down he may even have believed in progress. Coincidence, on the other hand, is total freedom, our natural destiny. Coincidence obeys no laws and if it does we don't know what they are. ~ Roberto Bolano

Idk what the fuck just happened to us. We used to talk like hell pelhay but now days we act like as if we don't know each other and there's some kinda fight between us. I still want you to stay in my life, as a friend and even more than that but the only thing that I want from you is your acceptance.
You think that I don't talk to you or stuff and I'm trying to ignore you but trust me I never tried to ignore. You know what I just can't ignore even when I want too. And if you still think that I'm the only one who have changed and etc so I'm really sorry and honestly I just can not stay away from you. Love you ~ Taimoor Madni

It's because I fell in love with this incredible girl my freshman year. Only I didn't know how to be in love, so I did the only thing I could to keep her close. I became her friend. I became her best friend, and buried all of my own feelings so deep that I didn't even recognize them, because her feelings were all that mattered, and she wanted this other guy. ~ Lauren Layne

As i discovered, the path to sobriety is a precarious, complex journey. you obviously want to purge yourself of something that has been so destructive and has had such a grip on you. but in the deep recesses of your mind, you wonder if you will mourn the loss of this old friend that has been by your side for years. i know this sounds sick, but you actually find yourself wondering if your life is going to become quite boring without this crutch. of course, the yearning for true health far outweighs everything else. you know things are going to be better for you, for your loved ones, and for everyone you encounter. you will no longer have to hide things and live a lie. yes, that initial high of drugs and booze can be very, very attractive, but it's not worth the wrecked and trashed feeling you have the next morning. nor is it worth the cumulative toll it exacts from you. ~ Lou Gramm

We do take pleasure in one thing that you probably won't be able to guess. Namely, making friends with nature ... nature is always there at hand to wrap us up, gently: glowing, swaying, bubbling, rustling.
Just by looking at nature, I feel as if I'm being swallowed up into it, and in that moment I get the sensation that my body's now a speck, a speck from long before I was born, a speck that is melting into nature herself. This sensation is so amazing that I forget that I'm a human being, and one with special needs to boot.
Nature calms me down when I'm furious, and laughs with me when I'm happy. You might think that it's not possible that nature could be a friend, not really. But human beings are part of the animal kingdom too, and perhaps us people with autism still have some left-over awareness of this, buried somewhere deep down. I'll always cherish that part of me that thinks of nature as a friend. ~ Naoki Higashida

To no man does the earth mean so much as to the soldier. When he presses himself down upon her long and powerfully, when he buries his face and his limbs deep in her from the fear of death by shell-fire, then she is his only friend, his brother, his mother; he stifles his terror and his cries in her silence and her security; she shelters him and releases him for ten seconds to live, to run, ten seconds of life; receives him again and again and often forever. ~ Erich Maria Remarque

Excerpt from Storm's Eye by Dean Gray

With a final drag and drop, Jordan Rayne sent his latest creation winging its way toward the publisher. He looked up, squinted at that little clock in the right hand corner of his monitor, and removed his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. His cover art was finished and shipped, just in time for lunch. He sighed and stood, rolling his shoulders and bending side to side, his back cracking in protest as the muscles loosened after having been hunched over the screen for so long. Sam raised his head, tilting it enquiringly at him, and Jordan laughed.
"Yeah, I know what you want, some lunch and a nice long walk along the beach, hmm?" Jordan smiled fondly at the furry ball of energy he'd saved from certain death. With his mom's recent death it was just Sam and him in the house. Sometimes he wondered what kept him here, now that the last thread tethering him to the island was severed.

Sam limped over and nuzzled at his hand. When Jordan had first found him out on the main road, hurt and bleeding, he hadn't been sure the pooch would make it. Taylor, his best friend and the local vet, had done what she could. At the time, Jordan simply didn't have the deep pockets for the fancy surgery needed to mend Sam's leg perfectly, he could barely afford the drugs to keep his mom in treatment. So they'd patched him up as well as they could, Taylor extending herself further than he could ever repay, and hoped for the best. The d ~ Dean Gray

Dear Forrest,
I am sorry there was no time for us to speech other before I left. The doctors made their decision quickly, and before I knew it, I was being taken away, but I asked if I could stop long enough to write you this note, because you have been so kind to me whileI was here.
I sense, Forrest, that you are on the verge of something very significant in your life, some change, or event that will move you in a different direction, and you must seize the moment, and not let it pass. When I think back on it now, there is something in your eyes, some tiny flash of fire that comes now and then, mostly when you smile, and , on those infrequent occasions, I believe what I saw was almost a Genesis of our ability as humans to think, to create, to be.
This war is to for you, old pal - nor me - and I am well out of it as I'm sure you will be in time. The crucial question is, what will you do? I don't think you're an idiot at all. Perhaps by the measure of tests or the judgement of fools, you might fall into some category or other, but deep down, Forrest, I have seen that glowing sparkle of curiosity burning deep in your mind. Take the tide, my friend, and as you are carried along, make it work for you, fight the shallows and the snags and never give up. You are a good fellow, forrest, and you have a big heart.
Your pal,
Dan ~ Winston Groom

When the two people who thus discover that they are on the same secret road are of different sexes, the friendship which arises between them will very easily pass – may pass in the first half hour – into erotic love. Indeed, unless they are physically repulsive to each other or unless one or both already loves elsewhere, it is almost certain to do so sooner or later. And conversely, erotic love may lead to Friendship between the lovers. But this, so far from obliterating the distinction between the two loves, puts it in a clearer light. If one who was first, in the deep and full sense, your Friend, is then gradually or suddenly revealed as also your lover you will certainly not want to share the Beloved's erotic love with any third. But you will have no jealousy at all about sharing the Friendship. Nothing so enriches an erotic love as the discovery that the Beloved can deeply, truly and spontaneously enter into Friendship with the Friends you already had; to feel that not only are we two united by erotic love but we three or four or five are all travelers on the same quest, have all a common vision. ~ C.S. Lewis

All right, now that the weirdness between us has caused actual physical damage, I think it's time we talked it out, don't you?"
He gave a half smile and then turned back to the path. "We don't need to be weird," he said. "These past few days, since the thing with Elodie, I've been thinking." He took a deep breath, and I knew that this was one of those rare occasions when Cal was about to say a lot of words at once. "I like you, Sophie. A lot. For a while, I thought it might be more than that. But you love Cross."
He said it matter-of-factly, but I still caught the way his ears reddened. "I know I've said some pretty awful stuff about him, but…I was wrong. He's a good guy. So, I guess what I'm saying is that as the guy who's betrothed to you, I wish we could be more than friends." He stopped, turning around to face me. "But as your friend, I want you to be happy. And if Cross is who you want, then I'm not gonna stand in the way of that."
"I'm the worst fiancé ever, aren't I?"
Cal lifted one shoulder. "Nah. This one warlock I knew, his betrothed set him on fire."
Laughing so I wouldn't cry, I tentatively lifted my arms to hug him. He folded me against his chest, and there was no awkwardness between us, and I knew the warmth in the pit of my stomach was love. Just a different kind.
Sniffling, I pulled back and rubbed at my nose. "Okay, now that the hard part's over, let's go tackle the Underworld."
"Got room for two more?"
Startled, I turn ~ Rachel Hawkins

I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, dear," the woman said brightly. "The day I encounter Sophia again, I'll grab the nearest heavy object and bludgeon her myself."
Arriane flung out a hand to help Luce up, pulling her so hard her feet shot off the ground. "Dee's an old friend. And a first-class party animal, might I add. Got the metabolism of a donkey. She almost brought the Crusades to a grinding halt the night she seduced Saladin."
"Oh, nonsense!" Dee said, flapping a hand dismissively.
"She's the best storyteller, too," Annabelle added. "Or she was before she dropped off the face of the earth. Where've you been hiding, woman?"
The woman drew a deep breath and her golden eyes dampened. "Actually, I fell in love."
"Oh, Dee!" Annabelle crooned, clasping the woman's hand. "How wonderful."
"Otto Z. Otto." The woman sniffed. "May he rest ... "
"Dr. Otto," Daniel said, stepping out of the doorway. "You knew Dr. Otto?"
"Backwards and forwards. ~ Lauren Kate

[New Orleans.] Katrina changed everything. Life here is different, every face altered. Yet we feel and sense the landscape not only in its hurricane-leveled, sodden depressions but - perhaps even more so now in the strangely comforting depths of our shared history. Even in the worst hit areas, not all is dissipated. Dense intricate attachments burrow too deep to underestimate or overlook. This is no featureless town to be rubbed off the map and cast aside. Here the band plays on.

Our kindred colors speak to the values of justice, faith and power; to curious combinations of passion, openness, irreverence and loyalty, to the values of individuality, sharing and compassion. Not least, we still enjoy the sounds of music and respond to succulent foods, to the magnificent flowering gardens, to the elements of grace and dreamy escape, and to the languid Southern charm typical of faded days gone by. ~ T.J. Fisher

I honestly think I was an Indian living in the time of the Trail of Tears. Something like that. Every time I read books about back then, I get so devastatingly sad, so, so ... I feel such a deep connection to it. ~ Q'orianka Kilcher

Vienna wasn't just a city, it was a tone that either one carries forever in one's soul or one does not. It was the most beautiful thing in my life. I was poor, but I was not alone, because I had a friend. And Vienna was like another friend. When it rained in the tropics, I always heard the voice of Vienna. And at other times too. Sometimes deep in the virgin forests I smelled the musty smell of the entrance hall in Hietzing. Music and everything I loved was in the stones of Vienna, and in people's glances and their behavior, the way pure feelings are part of one's very heart. You know when the feelings stop hurting. Vienna in winter and spring. The allés in Schönbrunn. The blue light in the dormitory at the academy, the great white stairwell with the baroque statue. Morning ridings in the Prater. The mildew in the riding school. I remember all of it exactly, and I wanted to see it again... ~ Sandor Marai

My Deep-Fried Pork Cutlet with Fondue Lunch Set is ready to eat!"
A Lunch Set?! With fondue even?!
Wow, that's, um... a really Soma thing to make!
"So I'm assuming the cheese is a dipping sauce? And it's in this little pot?"
"Yep, you got it. Go on and give it a good dunking."
"Here we go...
huh?
It's black?! Wait a minute, isn't this supposed to be cheese?!"
Mmm! Sooo gooood! It's so light and tender! The crunchy outer shell practically melts in your mouth the second you bite into it!
And the sauce is mellow and rich, melding together with the cutlet in indescribable deliciousness!
"Wait... what is this sauce?!"
"At a glance, it looks like tonkatsu sauce- the plain old black paste that always goes with pork cutlets. But it's really a black cheese sauce!
I made an eggplant puree from chunks of eggplant I grilled over a brazier until their skins were charred good and black. Then I took that puree, rich with the unique aroma of charcoal grilling, and blend it with cheese!"
"Ah! Now I see! The soft flavors of cheese and chargrilling work together, lingering in the mouth as a light but rich aftertaste!
That's how you managed to give such a refined and elegant deliciousness! ~ Yuto Tsukuda

To answer the question, what makes a tragedy, is to answer the question wherein lies the essential significance of life, what the dignity of humanity depends upon in the last analysis. Here the tragedians speak to us with no uncertain voice. The great tragedies themselves offer the solution to the problem they propound. It is by our power to suffer, above all, that we are of more value than the sparrows. Endow them with a greater or as great a potentiality of pain and our foremost place in the world would no longer be undisputed. Deep down, when we search out the reason for our conviction of the transcendent worth of each human being, we know that it is because of the possibility that each can suffer so terribly. What do outside trappings matter, Zenith or Elsinore? Tragedy's preoccupation is with suffering. But, ~ Edith Hamilton