Stand For What Is Right Quotes

Christians need to take a stand for what is right and not let evil go unchallenged. ~ Billy Graham

Majority does not mean Right. Minority does not mean Wrong. Always maintain a stand for what is right. ~ Maisie A. Smikle

You stand for what is right-
for the patient and the staff.
Pressures of work may down you,
maybe bent but not broken. ~ Mujel Hasan

Davy, I knew the exact time of your birth and what you would look like when the time was at hand, for I dream dreams. Now is the time. A great evil is brewing in the land that will turn the nation against itself. But you must make a stand for what is right. Be strong, young man, be strong. ~ David Holdsworth

The Lone Star of Africa Land of the free, on your beach and sacred forests loves flourished. You, Liberia, you my love to echo, the scream of freedom, holding tight and will never let go. O beautiful land, The Lone star for decades has survived wars and tribalism the elders who keep the ancestral treasures that resulted in Vandalism. When will morning break for great leaders to stand for what is right Mother Liberia? ~ Henry Johnson Jr

Let us take a stand for what is right. And let us raise our voice against injustice. ~ Avijeet Das

I believe any time you have the courage to stand for what is right, especially in situations where no one else is willing to do so, you are creating a holy place. ~ Ann M. Dibb

God honors you when you take a stand for what is right. ~ Jim George

Some sort of belief in all-powerful supernatural beings is common, if not universal. A tendency to obey authority, perhaps especially in children, a tendency to believe what you're told, a tendency to fear your own death, a tendency to wish to see your loved ones who have died, to wish to see them again, a wish to understand where you came from, where the world came from, all these psychological predispositions, under the right cultural conditions, tend to lead to people believing in things for which there is no evidence. ~ Richard Dawkins

All you need i love then you can go anywhere and do anything... But i don't have that...
I need somebody to love... but i can't find that...
I never fealt true love... but i want to have someone to talk to and hug, to kiss and to love... But i can probably never find someone like that... If i had someone like this i would never feel sick i would never feel down and i would never need to cry and to doubt... If i found this person then surerly they'd be... My savior from hatreed and misery....

That is what i am searching for... But something i would never find... Even if one like that was out there, we would never collide...

Nice guys finish last, thats what they say right? That must mean i'm the nicest guy in the world...

I don't care much for sex, for freedom or for rights ... All i want is love even if you are in are in doubt, a man like this exist, and he is searching for a love that he'll most likely never find. ~ The Nicest Guy

To look for a single general theory of how to decide the right thing to do is like looking for a single theory of how to decide what to believe. ~ Thomas Nagel

I have two choices in life: I either try to do the right thing and get accused of being selfish, or I just do what is right for me and get called selfish anyway. This time, it's all about me. ~ Dawn O'Porter

Americans are addicted to plausible deniability. If we can't even think critically about something as relatively insignificant as an internet cat or admit that a person might give a pet an offensive name or apologize honestly for small, careless slights, how are we ever going to reckon with the fact that our country was built by slaves on land stolen from people on whom we perpetrated a genocide? What the f*ck are we going to do? Our propensity for always, always, always choosing what is comfortable over what is right helped pave the road to this low and surreal moment in US history. ~ Lindy West

A THOUGHT AWAY

Distance does not separate us.
We're not so far away.
Take in a breath and blow it out.
Say what you want to say.

We hear you as you sit and breathe
And contemplate the light,
For deep inside is where we live
Not far away and out of sight.

Our world is yours; it's not distinct,
Just varying vibrations,
Not divided by false borders
Like geographic nations.

To join the two just close your eyes
And loving thoughts bring to your mind,
And there our worlds meet on the breath
Like two hearts intertwined

A thought away, that's all we are,
So keep us close at hand.
For now you cannot touch us
But at your side is where we stand. ~ Suzanne Giesemann

Let's just do what is right for the American people. And those of us who are involved in politics and government know that our responsibility is to the American people, that we have a responsibility to find our common ground, to seek it and to find it. ~ Nancy Pelosi

Truth, says instrumentalism, is what works out, that which does what you expect it to do. The judgment is true when you can "bank" on it and not be disappointed. If, when you predict, or when you follow the lead of your idea or plan, it brings you to the ends sought for in the beginning, your judgment is true. It does not consist in agreement of ideas, or the agreement of ideas with an outside reality; neither is it an eternal something which always is, but it is a name given to ways of thinking which get the thinker where he started. As a railroad ticket is a "true" one when it lands the passenger at the station he sought, so is an idea "true," not when it agrees with something outside, but when it gets the thinker successfully to the end of his intellectual journey.

Truth, reality, ideas and judgments are not things that stand out eternally "there," whether in the skies above or in the earth beneath; but they are names used to characterize certain vital stages in a process which is ever going on, the process of creation, of evolution. In that process we may speak of reality, this being valuable for our purposes; again, we may speak of truth; later, of ideas; and still again, of judgments; but because we talk about them we should not delude ourselves into thinking we can handle them as something eternally existing as we handle a specimen under the glass.

Such a conception of truth and reality, the instrumentalist believes, is in harmony with the gener ~ Holly Estil Cunningham

The main thing these books have in common is their intent to help you live your best possible magickal and mundane life. We all walk very different paths as Pagans and Witches, and what is right for one person won't be right for the next. But my aim is to make it easier for you to find and follow the path that is right for you, integrating spirit and magick and heart into your everyday tasks as you walk it. ~ Deborah Blake

What we feel and how we feel is far more important than what we think and how we think. Feeling is the stuff of which our consciousness is made, the atmosphere in which all our thinking and all our conduct is bathed. All the motives which govern and drive our lives are emotional. Love and hate, anger and fear, curiosity and joy are the springs of all that is most noble and most detestable in the history of men and nations.

The opening sentence of a sermon is an opportunity. A good introduction arrests me. It handcuffs me and drags me before the sermon, where I stand and hear a Word that makes me both tremble and rejoice. The best sermon introductions also engage the listener immediately. It's a rare sermon, however, that suffers because of a good introduction.

Mysteries beg for answers. People's natural curiosity will entice them to stay tuned until the puzzle is solved. Any sentence that points out incongruity, contradiction, paradox, or irony will do.

Talk about what people care about. Begin writing an introduction by asking, "Will my listeners care about this?" (Not, "Why should they care about this?")

Stepping into the pulpit calmly and scanning the congregation to the count of five can have a remarkable effect on preacher and congregation alike. It is as if you are saying, "I'm about to preach the Word of God. I want all of you settled. I'm not going to begin, in fact, until I have your complete attention."

No sermon ~ Mark Galli

The artists who have inspired me the most in my life are the ones who have really had something to say and stand up for. That, to me, is part of being an artist-having the voice to express things that need to be verbalized and brought to light. Unfortunately, I don't think that's a priority for people, because the few artists who do have the nerve to take a stand for what they believe get shut down in a way. ~ Alicia Keys

Charles Wallace had once again been contemplating the intricate model of the tesseract. He spoke softly to his sister. "Meg, no matter what happens, even if Dennys is right about her heart, remember that it was herself she placed, for the baby's sake, and yours, and Calvin's, and all of us - "

Meg looked at him questioningly.

Charles Wallace's eyes as he returned her gaze were the blue of light as it glances off a unicorn's horn, pure and clear and infinitely deep. "In this fateful hour, it was herself she placed between us and the powers of darkness. ~ Madeleine L'Engle

Little by little, his eyes warmed into that dusky shade of brown she'd come to miss. A shadow traced the outline of his body, from the curve in his neck to the powerful slope of his shoulders. As his glimmering blue aura faded, his hair blackened, and his skin, bronzed from years of training under the sun, glowed with life.
She had no idea what came over her- impulse or instinct- but she reached for Shang's hand.
He looked surprised, and for an instant she wondered whether it was because he could feel her touch, or because she had reached for him. Maybe both.
Shang's stance loosened, and he drew her close, not letting go of her hand. "I told you once you were the craziest man I'd ever met. I guess I have to change that to the craziest woman."
Mulan laughed. "You're delaying us from leaving Diyu to tell me that?"
"And that Ping was right about his sister."
Now Mulan lifted her chin, curious. "Why is that?"
"She's strong and kind and beautiful and brave...."
"And also speaks her mind," Mulan reminded him.
"... Honest, in the way that counts most."
"And she occasionally disobeys orders," Mulan warned him, "even from her commanding officer."
"... She has discerning judgment."
Mulan smiled. Tentatively, she reached for a wisp of hair that clung to Shang's temple. She brushed it aside gently, and Shang caught her hand in his and brought it to his chest.
Mulan's skin tingled.
"I'll never meet another girl like her ~ Elizabeth Lim

Everyone is saying how we had sex in the hot tub and I'm a slut and you don't even care!"
"I told the guys we didn't!"
"Did you? Did you tell them that all we did was kiss and that's all we've ever done?" Peter hesitates, and I go on. "Or did you say, 'Guys, we didn't have sex in the hot tub,' wink wink, nudge nudge."
Peter glares at me. "Give me a little more credit than that, Covey."
"You're such a scumbag, Kavinsky."
I spin around. There is Josh, in the doorway, glaring at Peter.
"It's your fault people are saying that crap about Lara Jean." Josh shakes his head in disgust. "She'd never do that."
"Keep your voice down," I whisper, my eyes darting around. This is not happening right now. At recital party, with everyone I've ever known my whole entire life in the next room.
Peter's jaw twitches. "This is a private conversation, Josh, between me and my girlfriend. Why don't you go play World of Warcraft or something. Or maybe there's a Lord of the Rings marathon on TV."
"Fuck you, Kavinsky," Josh says. I gasp. To me Josh says, "Lara Jean, this is exactly what I've been trying to protect you from. He's not good enough for you. He's only bringing you down."
Beside me Peter stiffens. "Get over it! She doesn't like you anymore. It's over. Move on."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Josh says.
"Whatever, dude. She told me you tried to kiss her. You try that again, and I'm kicking your ass. ~ Jenny Han

The result of these trends is that today the courts, unrestrained by
higher law and disdainful of majority will, are the dominant force in American politics. As law professor Russell Hittinger writes, in Casey the Court has laid down a "new covenant" by which it agrees to give citizens the right to decide for themselves the meaning of life, to decide what is right and wrong, to do as they please. In exchange for this guarantee, the Court asks only that the people accept the Court's assumption of ultimate power.3S Or as Notre Dame's Gerard Bradley puts it, the Court has said: "We will be your Court, and you will be our people. ~ Charles W. Colson

I hope you were going to come pry your sister off my back," Paca clips as Rayna swims up. "She's quite rude."
Galen throws Rayna a look, to which she lifts her chin. "Paca and her pudgy father over there are full of whale dung," Rayna informs her brothers.
"Rayna," Grom barks. "Mind your manners."
Rayna lifts her chin even higher. Here we go. "Paca is a fraud, Grom," she says. "You can't mate with her. Sorry to ruin your ceremony. Let's go, Galen."
Paca gasps as Jagen swims up to the party, almost stuttering in his fury. "You little ... little stonefish! How dare you insult my daughter?"
Galen grabs Rayna's arm. "What did you do?" he hisses.
She jerks her arm away and gives him a superior look. "If Paca has the Gift of Poseidon, I have the Gift of Triton. Don't ask me what it is though, because I don't have a clue."
"Rayna, enough!" Grom says, grabbing her other arm. "Apologize. Right now."
"Apologize for what? Telling the truth? Sorry, not feeling it. ~ Anna Banks

So what if I'm right?" I dig in my purse for a few singles, flopping back to our conversation about Seth as if we'd never changed the subject. This is a thing I've found only best friends can do - press pause on a conversation and then press play again at any moment. ~ Paula Stokes

I thought we were meeting by the field house," I call out as I make my way over.
He doesn't even turn around. "Nah, I'm pretty sure I said the parking lot."
"You definitely said the field house," I argue. Why can't he ever just admit that he's wrong?
"Geez, field house, parking lot. What difference does it make?" Mason asks. "Give it a rest, why don't you."
I shoot him a glare. "Oh, hey, Mason. Remember when your hair was long and everyone thought you were a girl?"
Ryder chuckles as he releases a perfect spiral in Mason's direction. "She's got you there."
"Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?" Mason catches the ball and cradles it against his chest, then launches it toward Ben. I just stand there watching as they continue to toss it back and forth between the three of them. Haven't they had enough football for one day?
I pull out my cell to check the time. "We should probably get going."
"I guess," Ryder says with an exaggerated sigh, like I'm putting him out or something. Which is particularly annoying since he's the one who insisted on going with me.
Ben jogs up beside me, the football tucked beneath his arm. "Where are you two off to? Whoa, you're sweaty."
I fold my arms across my damp chest. "Hey, southern girls don't sweat. We glow."
Ben snorts at that. "Says who?"
"Says Ryder's mom," I say with a grin. It's one of Laura Grace's favorite sayings--one that always makes Ryder wince.
"The hardware store," Ryder ~ Kristi Cook

The Don Juan of knowledge: he has yet to be discovered by any philosopher or poet. He is lacking in love for the things he comes to know, but he has intellect, titillation, and pleasure in the hunt and intrigues involved in coming to know--all the way up to the highest and most distant planets of knowledge--until finally nothing remains for him to hunt down other than what is absolutely painful in knowledge, like the drunkard who ends up drinking absinthe and acqua fortis. Thus he ends up lusting for hell--it is the last knowledge that seduces him. Perhaps, like everything he has come to know, it will disillusion him as well! And then he would have to stand still for all of eternity, nailed on the spot to disillusionment, and himself having become the stone guest longing for an evening meal of knowledge that he never again will receive!--For the entire world of things no longer has a single morsel to offer this hungry man. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

You must always look with both of your eyes and listen with both of your ears. He says this is a very big world and there are many many things you could miss if you are not careful. There are remarkable things all the time, right in front of us, but our eyes have like the clouds over the sun and our lives are paler and poorer if we do not see them for what they are. If nobody speaks of remarkable things, how can they be called remarkable? ~ Jon McGregor

If you could be any character on The Next Generation, who would you be?"
"Easy," Solomon said. "Data. For sure."
"That makes sense," Clark said.
"You?"
"I always liked Wesley Crusher."
"What?" Solomon was appalled. "Nobody likes Wesley Crusher."
"Why not?" Lisa asked.
"Because he's a total Mary Sue," Solomon said. "He's too perfect."
"But he's always saving the day," Clark argued. "Like, always."
"Exactly. He's just a talking deus ex machina. Everybody on the ship treats him like a dumb kid, then he saves them at the last minute and, every single time, they go right back to treating him like a dumb kid again. Do I need to remind you that the starship Enterprise is full of genius scientists and engineers? Why's this kid who can't get into Starfleet Academy smarter than all of them?"
"Good point," Clark said. "He's still my choice, though. ~ John Corey Whaley

They read the names out from sixth place to first. We were standing backstage behind a huge curtain, and Rachael and Evgeni were right next to us. Swell. I thought maybe we stood a chance of coming in fourth. But they didn't call us. "This is crazy!" I whispered to Aneta. "We're top three?" Then they called a German couple. We were in the top two!
Rachael smiled at me. "Oh, Derek! Great job!" she said. What she really meant was, "We're going to take first place and you can have our sloppy seconds." Then we heard, "In second place, from England…" Rachael's face went white as a ghost. She and Evgeni were second! That left only one place for us…
"Derek Hough and Aneta Piotrovska are world champions!"
I started screaming, "What? What?" and jumping up and down. So much for my neck pain. This wasn't real; it couldn't be! I ran out from behind the curtain, pumping my fists in the air. I caught a glimpse of Rachael's face. She was beyond pissed.
"We did it! We did it!" I yelled. The rest happened in slow motion: I ran out and jumped off the stage and the floor. While I was midair, I remember thinking, " I'm wearing these Cuban heels. This isn't gonna be good." Then I hit the floor and my legs buckled. I fell into a roll, then stood straight up--as if I meant to do it all along. I limped over to Aneta to collect our trophy and we hugged. I didn't give a crap about anything else. Not my neck or my knees or Rachael fuming as they snapped pictures of all of us. It was ~ Derek Hough

I speak of the power of trying, because I have fallen and struggled to stand. I speak of generosity because I battle selfishness. I speak of joy because I have known sorrow. I speak of faith because I almost lost mine, and know what it is to be broken, in need of redemption. I speak of Thanks because I am grateful for the totality of this Life... not just the easy parts. ~ Raymond D. Longoria Jr.

You've already said that," Alex says. "Why should I go?"

"You're the only person I have," I say. "And I want us all to be together. It will be good for us."

"Oh, so now I'm back in the picture again."

"Alex. Something bigger than you is occurring right now. I'm sorry about your unhappy childhood."

She glares at me in that special way of hers and Joanie's that makes me feel worthless and foul-smelling.

"So we'll tell Scottie we're going on a vacation while Mom is in the hospital?"

"It's for a day or two," I say. "Scottie's been in the hospital every day for almost a month now. She needs a break. It's not good for her. I'd like you to be in charge of answering any questions she may have. She looks up to you. She'll hang on whatever you say."

I'm hoping a leadership role, a specific chore, will make Alex act like an adult and treat Scottie well.

"Can you do that?"

She shrugs.

"If you can't handle things, let me know. I'll help. I'm here for you."

Alex laughs. I wonder if there are parents who can say things to their kids like "I love you" or "I'm here for you" without being laughed at. I have to admit it's a bit uncomfortable. Affection, in general, is unpleasant to me.

"What if Mom doesn't make it for two days?"

"She will," I say. "I'll tell her what we're doing."

Alex looks uncomfortable with this idea, that what I'll say wil ~ Kaui Hart Hemmings

A rain of pebbles from overhead makes me glance up in time to see Ruthann step onto the lip of the cliff, another fifteen feet above me. Her body is wrapped tight in a pure white robe.

"Ruthann!" I shout, my voice caroming off the rock walls, an obscenity.

She looks down at me. Across the distance our eyes meet.

"Ruthann, don't," I whisper, but she shakes her head.

I'm sorry.

In that half-second, I think about Wilma and Derek and me, all the people who do not want to beleft behind, who think we know what is best for her. I think about the doctors and the medicines Ruthann lied about taking. I think about how I could talk her down from that ledge like I have talked down a dozen potential suicide victims. Yet the right thing to do, here, is subjective. Ruthann's family, who wants her alive, will not be the one to lose hair from drugs, to have surgery to remove her breast, to die by degrees. It is easy to say that Ruthann should come down from that cliff, unless you are Ruthann.

I know better than anyone what it feels like to have someone else make choices for you, when you deserve to be making them yourself.

I look at Ruthann, and very slowly, I not.

She smiles at me, and so I am her witness -- as she unwraps the wedding robe from her narrow shoulders and holds is across her back like the wide wings of a hawk. As she steps off the edge of the cliff and rises to the Spirit World. As t ~ Jodi Picoult

Don't allow yourself to waste that chance. Don't succumb to any…distractions."
I could only imagine my expression. Miss Swanston lowered her candy-red lashes and glanced back at Armand.
"Oh," I said, swallowing. "No. Definitely not."
"Forgive me. He seems quite taken with you."
The bite of roll lodged in my throat; I coughed. "He isn't, I assure you."
"Eleanore, it grieves me to correct you, but he is staring at you even now. He hasn't been able to tear his eyes from you since we arrived."
I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't say anything like, Armand doesn't count. Armand's not even in the game. I'm in love with a boy made of stars, and we're going to live together ever after on gold and smoke and moonlight, and that's my happy future, no matter what any of you think.
I scowled down at my plate. "He's simply…"
"Yes?" she prompted, very mild.
I searched for the right word. "I don't know what he is," I admitted finally, frustrated. "Bored, I suppose."
"Yes," she said again, just as mild. "I'm glad you've realized it, too."
"But I'm not dense. He's nobility. I know-I know what I am. I know what to avoid."
"Good," Miss Swanston said once more, and gave me her wistful smile. ~ Shana Abe

You know what they say about air and water when it comes to fire, don't you?" she asks.
Now, I'm curious. She hasn't spoken for the last ten minutes of the drive. "What?"
"Too much air blows out the fire. Too much water destroys it."
I nod trying to determine what she's really comparing us to. "The idea would be to keep the flame going, right. For years?" She nods. "Like a relationship. Like a marriage." She cringes at the word marriage. Noted. "So you need the air - to stay constant - to fan the flames of the fire, and you know, grasshopper," I smile at her and catch sight of the corners of her mouth turning slightly upward in response to the endearment, "a hot enough fire will burn water, so you have to be careful with the water too."
"That I do know," she says softly. "So that's the truth about air and water." She sighs deep.
"Which is?"
"It's hard to maintain the balance to keep the fire going. You have to fan the flames without putting it out with too much water. But too little water will burn the fire right up. Too much fire. Too much destruction. We're out of control."
"You're talking in circles," I say.
"No. That's us," she says with certainty. ~ Katherine Owen

His lips inches away and it was driving me crazy. He was so close. I begged him to move just an inch more and our lips would touch in what would be the most amazing kiss I could image. Instead, Oliver ruined the moment.
"I thought it was against the rules to kiss your teacher," he said turning up the edge of his perfect lips into that devilish smirk I hated so. I pulled away scolding myself for almost kissing him.
"You right it is," I replied promptly. ~ Anna Davis

Ian's sense of right and wrong overwhelms me.
Not a single other person ... I know
possesses such an unshakable sense of morality.
Its more than unbelievable. It's frightening.
To offer without strings something all men crave,
and be rejected by him is incomprehensible.
Think I'll have to kick Kaeleigh's ass.
Does she have any idea what it means ... to be
so treasured? He has built a pedestal for her so tall
that she is afraid to be lifted atop it, because to fall
would mean certain death. But oh, she would rise
far, far beyond fear. ~ Ellen Hopkins

If I take a chamois and rub real hard on the bone, right on the ledge of your cheek bone, some of the black will disappear. It will flake away into the chamois and underneath there will be gold leaf. I can see it shining through the black. I know it is there…
[...] And if I take a nailfile or even Eva's old paring knife - that will do - and scrape away at the gold, it will fall away, it will fall away and there will be alabaster. The alabaster is what gives your face its planes, its curves. That is why your mouth smiling does not reach your eyes. Alabaster is giving it a gravity that resists a total smile.


[...] Then I can take a chisel and small tap hammer and tap away at the alabaster. It will crack then like ice under the pick, and through the breaks I will see the loam, fertile, free of pebbles and twigs. For it is the loam that is giving you that smell. ~ Toni Morrison

Drake skidded to a stop at the end of the hallway, his eyes narrow as he looked over our little group. Behind him, Pal appeared, followed by a couple of dragons I didn't recognize.

"Aisling." Drake lowered his sword and walked slowly toward us, a frown darkening his eyes. "Where have you been? And what are you wearing?"

I pinched the back of Renaldo's hand until he released his hold on my face. "To hell and back, but that's a really long story, and not one I want to go into here. This is a curtain. I'd really rather not talk about it right now,either."

"Very well. We will leave the discussion of why you are clad in drapery for another time. The challenge has started. ~ Katie MacAlister

The truth is I have from the very beginning listened to my instincts. All of my best decisions in life have come because I was attuned to what really felt like the next right move for me. ~ Oprah Winfrey

A woman should always be more concerned with standing up for what is right than making sure everyone 'likes' her. ~ Laura Schlessinger

My judgment about what is right for this country will always guide me. ~ Michael Gove

The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

How Journal Writing Helps

Because of your social anxiety, you may be so afraid that any opinions you have are wrong that you remain neutral on most subjects. Or, you might feel like a chameleon who changes opinions depending on the situation. Not expressing your opinions can make you feel empty and unsure of what you really believe. Writing your thoughts and feelings in a journal can help you figure out your likes and dislikes, your opinions on tough issues, and what you stand for. Once you have your true beliefs down on paper, they will seem more concrete and you will be able to remember them during social situations.
Although you probably are aware of what causes you the most anxiety, you also may have worries that are more difficult to identify. People often use various mental tricks to bury problems that are painful or difficult. As you write in your journal, you will become more aware of hidden fears and worries. Once they are brought into the open, you can begin to cope with them more effectively.
Writing about events also makes it easier to be objective. While a belief, such as "Everyone thinks I'm stupid," may cross your mind unconsciously, writing it down makes you realize how false and exaggerated it is. Once you see how maladaptive some of your thoughts are, it is easier to change them.
In addition, a journal is valuable whenever you feel discouraged. Reviewing past entries will remind you how much you have improved over time. This insight ~ Heather Moehn

I am an urchin, standing in the cold, elbowed aside by the glossy rich visitors in their fur coats and ostentatious jewellery, being fussed into the hotel by pompous-looking doormen.
'No problem. I'd better get home, actually Mr – Gustav. A drink is very tempting, but maybe not such a good idea after all.' I pat my pockets. 'And I'm skint.'
'Pavements not paved with gold yet, eh?' He moves on along the facade of the grand hotel to the corner, and waits. He's staring not back at me but down St James Street. I wage a little war with myself. He's a stranger, remember.
The newspaper headlines, exaggerated by the time they reach the office of Jake's local rag: Country girl from the sticks raped and murdered in London by suave conman.
Even Poppy would be wagging her metaphorical finger at me by now. Blaming herself for not being there, looking out for me. But we're out in public here. Lots of people around us. He's charming. He's incredibly attractive. He's got a lovely deep, well spoken voice. And he's an entrepreneur who must be bloody rich if he owns more than one house. What the hell else am I going to do with myself when everyone else is out having fun?
One thing I won't tell him is that my pockets might be empty, but my bank account is full.
'One drink. Then I must get back.'
He doesn't answer or protest, but with a courtly bow he crooks his elbow and escorts me down St James. We turn right and into the far more subtle splendour of Dukes ~ Primula Bond