You Are My World Baby Quotes

They have been preparing their dissonance by removing all who stand in their way for a long time my son ... but they did not conceive of your ability to resist them with your human blood and remaining behind to find your brother or Eiij'lam being reborn into the world with Fi'onna under the protection of the wizard and then you found young Naa'lin and you made an elfling... You are all unpredictable and they did not count on that ... and I am still here, King Ellinduil nodded again and smiled with a sideways grin at Roe'vaash. ~From Then'diel's DREAM 2015. ~ K. Farrell St. Germain

Anabel shrugs. "Then take an earlier flight today so you get to see her at the airport, stupid."
Tom shakes his head. "I came to see both of you. To spend time with my womenfolk because I miss you like hell."
They're both smiling and he knows he has said and done the right thing and that's enough for him. Anabel reaches over and hugs him. "You're the best brother in the world, Tom."
When she pulls away from the hug, she slaps him on the cheek. "Are you over it now?" she snaps. "Let's go!" she says, grabbing their mother's keys out of her hands. "I'm sick and tired of you people living interstate and overseas from people you want to be with. You're ruining my life! All of you! ~ Melina Marchetta

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

I cannot lose you, Ray. Not now, not ever. You are the only person in the world who knows my true self, and is the keeper of all my secrets ~ Cherry Stryker

And then I cried a flood of tears as if I really were a mermaid who had absorbed too much sea into herself. The tears spilled like a balm, like a potion, like a charm. In them swam a little girl whose father was dying without ever having seen her. In them swam a girl whose mother's magic – the only thing the girl envied more than anything else in the world, the thing that had made her invisible, the most precious thing –might be dying too. In them swam a green-haired girl who had never been touched by the boy to whom she was so devoted that she would have lived with him forever in a shack by the sea or a ruined sand castle even if he never made love to her. My tears were for me, but they were also for him. They were to wash away the thing that had frightened him so much so long ago. The wound inside his thigh. My tears poured out of me and he drank them down his throat. He drank them in gulps deep into himself, swallowing sorrow.
Someday," he said, "when we are ready, I will give you back your tears. ~ Francesca Lia Block

The Prologue

When the autumn breeze blows and stirs up a sense of adventure, I find myself wishing that I could embark on a grand quest full of danger, a journey to an unknown world. A quest of epic proportions that ends in a glorious blaze of heroics before I return home to resume the life that I had left behind for a time. This is only the wishful musings of a normal girl bored with the way things are. Then again, it might not be.

My story begins much like any other, but don't be deceived! This story is nothing like any other you have ever read - or heard, as the case may be. At least, I don't think it is. But who am I to say such a thing? You must read it and decide for yourself.

So. Here it is. I hope you enjoy the ride - or the read, rather. ~ Annie Riley

I have a song deep in my heart, And only I can hear it. If I close my eyes and sit very still ... It is so easy to listen to my song. When my eyes are open and I am so Busy and moving and busy, If I take time and listen very hard, I can still hear my Heartsong. It makes me feel happy. Happier than ever. Happier than everywhere And everything and everyone In the whole wide world. Happy like thinking about Going to Heaven when I die. My Heartsong sounds like this: I love you! I love you! How happy you can be! How happy you can make this whole World be. ~ Mattie Stepanek

All my moral and intellectual being is penetrated by an invincible conviction that whatever falls under the dominion of our senses must be in nature and, however exceptional, cannot differ in its essence from all the other effects of the visible and tangible world of which we are a self-conscious part. The world of the living contains enough marvels and mysteries as it is - marvels and mysteries acting upon our emotions and intelligence in ways so inexplicable that it would almost justify the conception of life as an enchanted state. No, I am too firm in my consciousness of the marvelous to be ever fascinated by the mere supernatural which (take it any way you like) is but a manufactured article, the fabrication of minds insensitive to the intimate delicacies of our relation to the dead and to the living, in their countless multitudes; a desecration of our tenderest memories; an outrage on our dignity. ~ Joseph Conrad

When my namesake, the great Caesar, rode in triumph," Julius said, "he was accompanied by a slave whose role was to whisper to him, You are but mortal. To remind him he was merely a man who would one day die like any other. If I could, I should have you at my side to remind me that I am alive, because I have not felt alive in so damned long, and with you, I do. No, I don't want you to marry, any more than I want you to return to your dirty democrats. I want to show you the world, and see you smile, and keep you with me while my soul grows back. ~ K.J. Charles

In books, coaching sessions, and networking events aimed at the white-collar unemployed, the seeker soon encounters ideologies that are explicitly hostile to any larger, social understanding of his or her situation. The most blatant of these, in my experience, was the EST-like, victim-blaming ideology represented by Patrick Knowles and the books he recommended to his boot-camp participants. Recall that at the boot camp, the timid suggestion that there might be an outer world defined by the market or ruled by CEOs was immediately rebuked; there was only us, the job seekers. It was we who had to change. In a milder form, the constant injunction to maintain a winning attitude carries the same message: look inward, not outward; the world is entirely what you will it to be. ~ Barbara Ehrenreich

But my experience in this world has been that the people who believe themselves to be white are obsessed with the politics of personal exoneration. And the word racist, to them, conjures, if not a tobacco-spitting oaf, then something just as fantastic -- an orc, troll, or gorgon...This was the attempt to commit a shameful act while escaping all sanction, and I raise it to show you that there was no golden era when evildoers did their business and loudly proclaimed it as such. ~ Ta-Nehisi Coates

It's your world, but I make my way in it. At fifteen, no, I couldn't stand up to you. The age of illusions, when we know nothing, we hope for everything; we're wandering in a mist ... And the half of the world that's never had any use for us, suddenly is besieging us. You need us, you adore us, you're suffering for us. You want everything--except to know what we think. You look deep in our eyes--and put your hand up our dress. You call us, "Pretty thing." That confuses us. The most beautiful woman, the highest ranked, lives half dazzled by constant attention, half stifled by obvious contempt. We think all we're good for is pleasing you--till one day, long acquaintance with you dispels the last mist. In a clear light, we suddenly see you as you are--and generally we start preferring ourselves. At thirty, I could finally say no--or really say yes. That's when you begin backing away from us. Now I'm full-grown. I pursue my happiness the same as any man. ~ Pierre-Augustin Caron De Beaumarchais

That's the secret - to distract the senses. Have I told you my theory about them? I think that our sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing are all calibrated for the enjoyment of a perfect world. But since the world is imperfect, we must put blinders on the senses. ~ Rohinton Mistry

How hard is it to keep an eye on one woman? I take six months. And you take six months. That was our agreement.""Why is she still our responsibility?" "Because she's our sister and we love her and if we don't watch out for her, she will get involved with the wrong people , and destroy the world. Is that what you want?" "You always ask me that question, and you're always disappointed with my answer." Charlie sighed . "Well, we need to find her." "I know.""She's in as much danger as we are.""I know." "They sent trained military after us.""I know." "And I know this car is stolen.""Of course it's stolen. ~ Shelly Laurenston

This puts me in mind of a circumstance that occurred when I was laboring on a mission in London many, many years ago: We had an old gentleman there that had been in the army. He was a war veteran and he was preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ on the streets. A man came up and slapped him on the face. "Now," he says, "if you are a Christian turn the other cheek." So old daddy turned the other cheek, but he said: "Hit again and down you go." He would have gone down, too, if he had struck again. True, Jesus Christ taught that non-resistance, was right and praiseworthy and a duty under certain circumstances and conditions; but just look at him when he went into the temple, when he made that scourge of thongs, when he turned out the money-changers and kicked over their tables and told them to get out of the house of the Lord! "My house is a house of prayer," he said, "but ye have made it a den of thieves." Get out of here! Hear him crying, "Woe unto you Scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites, ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and then ye make him ten-fold more the child of hell than he was before." That was the other side of the spirit of Jesus. Jesus was no milksop. He was not to be trampled under foot. He was ready to submit when the time came for his martyrdom, and he was to be nailed on the cross as a sacrifice for the sins of the world, but he was ready at any time to stand up for his rights like a man. He is not only called "the Lamb slain from the foundation of the wo ~ Charles W. Penrose

We lived like the only two people on the planet because we thought we were, I still need to know that... That you are still the only person in my world. ~ Neena Jaydon

Today, I encourage you to consider your life, your values, and your relationships and consider who you are by the test of what you do. I invite you to re-affirm the values you hold dear and decide today to stand up for what you believe is right and good in the world. ~ Genevieve Gerard

Thanks. And I'll give Brayden a talking-to so he doesn't try anything on Thursday."
My mind was still full of Latin and Shakespeare. "Try what?"
Trey shook his head. "Honestly, Melbourne, I don't know Trey shook his head. "Honestly, Melbourne, I don't know how you've survived this long in the world without me."
"Oh," I said, blushing. "That." Great. Now I had something else to worry about.
Trey scoffed. "Between you and me, Brayden's probably the last guy in the world you have to worry about. I think he's as clueless as you are. If I didn't care about your virtue so much, I'd actualy probably give him a lecture on how to try something. ~ Richelle Mead

Even though we had such different families, Keri and I were a good pair, both freckled and Irish with a strong belief in justice. We would go out for recess and spend the whole time walking and talking. This is something I still love to do today. I call it "walking the beat." I often call my friends and tell them to meet me on a New York corner at a certain time. The physical act of walking combined with the opportunity to look out at the world while you are sharing your thoughts and feelings is very comforting to me. You are in charge of the route and the amount of eye contact. I guess those days with Keri were when this started. ~ Amy Poehler

I want my little corner of the world where I get to make games where you're not trying to win or lose; you're not trying to get a higher score - you are having unbelievable amounts of fun as you learn about yourself and the world. That's what games can do! ~ Warren Spector

In my opinion when you speak about relationships between people, you are actually talking about everything in their world because everything is contained in that relationship. ~ Asghar Farhadi

There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There's .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I'm likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I'm grateful. ~ John Green

Well then. Let us begin with essentials. Are you free to marry me?" He exhaled slowly, in a pointed effort not to hold his breath.
"Of course. When I come of age, that is."
"Tell me your birthday."
She smiled. "The first of February."
"It will be our wedding day." He traced the shape of the birthmark on her hip. "Very convenient for me, for your birthday and our anniversary to coincide. I'll be more likely to remember both."
"I wish you would stop touching me there."
"Do you? Why?"
"Because it is ugly. I hate it."
He tilted his head, surprised. "I quite adore it. It reminds me that you are imperfectly perfect and entirely mine." He slid down her body and bent to kiss the mark to prove the point. "There's a little thrill in knowing no one else has seen it."
"No other man, you mean." He kissed her there again, this time tracing the shape with his tongue. She squirmed and laughed. "When I was a child, I would scrub at it in the bath. My nursemaid used to tell me, God gives children birthmarks so they won't get lost." Her mouth curled in a bittersweet smile. "Yet here I am, adrift on the ocean on the other side of the world. Don't they call that irony?"
"I believe they call it Providence." He tightened his hands over her waist. "You're here, and I've found you. And I take pains not to lose what's mine."
He kissed her hip again, then slid his mouth toward her center as he settled between her thighs.
"Gray," she protested ~ Tessa Dare

My love, you are closer to me than myself ...
You shine through my eyes,
Your light is brighter than the Moon ...
Step into the garden so all the flowers ...
Even the tall poplar can kneel before your beauty ...
Let your voice silence the lily famous for its hundred tongues,
When you want to be kind ...
You are softer than the soul ...
But when you withdraw ...
You can be so cold and harsh.
Dear one, you can be wild and rebellious ...
But when you meet him face to face ...
His charm will make you docile like the earth,
Throw away your shield and bare your chest ...
There is no stronger protection than him.
That's why when the Lover withdraws from the world ...
He covers all the cracks in the wall ...
So the outside light cannot come though,
He knows that only the inner light illuminates his world! ~ Rumi

Is it snowing where you are? All the world that I see from my tower is draped in white and the flakes are coming down as big as pop-corns. It's late afternoon - the sun is just setting (a cold yellow colour) behind some colder violet hills, and I am up in my window seat using the last light to write to you. ~ Jean Webster

We all came up out of the ground and took our forms. So much harder for us to have a form because we have one on the outside and too many inside. Depth, surface, power, fragility, direction, indirection, arrogance, servility, rocks, roots, grass, blossoms, dirt. We are a tangle of roots, a young branch, a flower, a moldy spore. You want to say, This is me; this is who I am. But you don't even know what it is, or what it's for. Time parts its shabby curtain: There is my father, listening to his music hard enough to break his own heart. Trying to borrow shapes for his emotions so that he may hold them out to the world and the world might say, Yes, we see. We feel. We understand. I touch the hazelnut bush gently as I pass. ~ Mary Gaitskill

I don't want the whole world knowing just how extraordinary you are.' I straighten his tie 'Are my eyes what make me special to you?' 'No,' he says. His voice has become soft and dreamy. He pushes the curls from my face. 'They are only a ripple on the surface. ~ Lauren DeStefano

I believe that if one person is watching a huge calamity, let's say a conflagration, a fire, there are always three principle options.

1. Run away, as far away and as fast as you can and let those who cannot run burn.

2. Write a very angry letter to the editor of your paper demanding that the responsible people be removed from office with disgrace. Or, for that matter, launch a demonstration.

3. Bring a bucket of water and throw it on the fire, and if you don't have a bucket, bring a glass, and if you don't have a glass, use a teaspoon, everyone has a teaspoon. And yes, I know a teaspoon is little and the fire is huge but there are millions of us and each one of us has a teaspoon. Now I would like to establish the Order of the Teaspoon. People who share my attitude, not the run away attitude, or the letter attitude, but the teaspoon attitude – I would like them to walk around wearing a little teaspoon on the lapel of their jackets, so that we know that we are in the same movement, in the same brotherhood, in the same order, The Order of the Teaspoon. ~ Amos Oz

In literature, plays, and cinema, substitutionary sacrifice is always the most riveting and moving plot point. In the movie The Last of the Mohicans, British major Duncan Heyward asks his Indian captors if he might die in the flames so that Cora, whom he loves, and Nathaniel can go free. When, as he is being dragged away, Duncan cries, "My compliments, sir! Take her and get out!" we are electrified by his unflinching willingness to die to save others, one of whom has been his rival. He dies with his arms bound and stretched out, as if he were on a cross. In Ernest Gordon's memoir of being a prisoner of the Japanese during World War II, he recounts how at the end of a day of forced labor the guards counted the shovels, and one was apparently missing. A furious guard threatened the British POWs that unless the guilty person confessed, he would kill them all. He cocked his gun to start shooting them one by one. At that moment, one prisoner stepped forward calmly and said, "I did it." He stood quietly at attention, and "he did not open his mouth" (Isaiah 53: 7) as he was beaten to death. When they all got back to the camp and counted the shovels again, it turned out that they were all there. The man had sacrificed himself to save them all. In the first Harry Potter novel, the evil Lord Voldemort can't touch Harry without being burned. Later Dumbledore explains it to him. "Your mother died to save you. . . . Love as powerful [as that] . . . leaves its own mark. . . . [T] o have be ~ Timothy J. Keller

Moments are incredible, but in my fantasy mind I see a Globe company which is renowned throughout the world for what it does with pure storytelling. So that people come and say: it's not just the building, it's the only place you can hear this kind of work. ~ Mark Rylance

If Titus raped a little girl who happened to be a Red, how would you feel?"

She doesn't know how to answer. The Law does. Nothing would happen. It isn't rape unless she wears the sigil of an elder House like Augustus. Even then, the crime is against her master.

"Now look around," I say quietly. "There are no Golds here. I'm a Red. You're a Red. We are all Reds till one of us gets enough power. Then we get rights. Then we make our own law." I lean back and raise my voice. "That is the point of all this. To make you terrified of a world where you do not rule. Security and justice aren't given. They are made by the strong."

"You should hope that is not true," Mustang says quietly to me.

"Why?"

"Because there is a boy here like you." Her face takes on a gloomy aspect, as though she regrets what she must say. "My Proctor calls him the Jackal. He is smarter and crueler and stronger than you, and he will win this game and make us his slaves if the rest of us go about acting like animals." Her eyes implore me. "So please, hurry up and evolve. ~ Pierce Brown

Attention, God the Judge, God the Father, who Art in Heaven, give me one miracle, please. If You exist as I know You do, even if no one else in the world believes in You, please give me a brain tumor. Please tear my limbs from their sockets and let the backseat and my older sister be totally covered with blood. Please make me dumb and blind and deaf, please make me a martyr, please, dear heavenly Father. Tear my heart right from my chest. Drive spikes into my eyes and let hot lava shoot out of my mouth. Make me silent and thoroughly dead, but please hurry. Before we get home, before we reach the next stoplight, let the only sound be no sound, the silence of my death burning in the empty sky. If You are a mighty and true God, if You are not just a dream I have made up, please, before another hour, another minute passes, let the wire in my bra poke through my heart. Dear Lord, please, please, give me this one miracle. I have begged You every day, every evening, so please, let Your will be done, let Your will be done. Give me a gruesome death as fast as You possibly can. Thank you, God. Amen. ~ Joe Meno

What in the world happened?" Phil asked me. "Did you flip your truck?"
"It's a long story," I said. "Let's go duck-hunting."
We ended up having one of our best duck hunts of the season. When we returned to Phil's house, I filled up about twenty bottles of water. My busted radiator leaked the entire way home, and I had to stop every couple of miles to fill it up with water. There was a body shop close to our house, so I pulled in there before going home.
"Well, whatcha think?" I asked the mechanic.
"Well, we can fix it," he said. "I can get you a radiator."
"What's it going to cost me?" I asked.
"Well, what are you going to do with the deer?" he said. "I can get you a radiator for the deer."
About that time, the mechanic's assistant walked up to my truck.
"What are you going to do with the rack of horns?" the assistant asked me.
"Hey, if you can fix my door so it will close, you can have the horns," I told him.
There's nothing quite like good, old-fashioned redneck bartering. Unfortunately, I didn't get off so easy with the damage to Missy's car. In all the excitement of the day, I'd completely forgotten to tell her that I'd wrecked her car. When I got home, she told me somebody pulled in the driveway and sideswiped it. I couldn't tell a lie.
"You remember how you scolded me about forgetting to turn out the carport light?" I said.
"Yeah," she said.
"Well, this is what happens when you start worrying about sma ~ Jase Robertson

You'll pray for us sinners; we have sinned too much here. I've always been thinking who would pray for me, and whether there's any one in the world to do it. My dear boy, I'm awfully stupid about that. You wouldn't believe it. Awfully. You see, however stupid I am about it, I keep thinking, I keep thinking--from time to time, of course, not all the while. It's impossible, I think, for the devils to forget to drag me down to hell with their hooks when I die. Then I wonder--hooks? Where would they get them? What of? Iron hooks? Where do they forge them? Have they a foundry there of some sort? The monks in the monastery probably believe that there's a ceiling in hell, for instance. Now I'm ready to believe in hell, but without a ceiling. It makes it more refined, more enlightened, more Lutheran that is. And, after all, what does it matter whether it has a ceiling or hasn't? But, do you know, there's a damnable question involved in it? If there's no ceiling there can be no hooks, and if there are no hooks it all breaks down, which is unlikely again, for then there would be none to drag me down to hell, and if they don't drag me down what justice is there in the world? Il faudrait les inventer, those hooks, on purpose for me alone, for if you only knew, Alyosha, what a blackguard I am. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Are you gay, Cherie?
Me, No… I'm not anything… I-I mean I prefer not to indulge, I stammered.
"Really... how do you mean?"
Well love has been an elusive story, like a fairytale adults tell children but I have never known any of it to be true. In reality it reminds me of religion. I am not sure God is real either, if God is real why do so many innocents suffer?
Innocents suffer because it is their destiny to suffer.
What? What does that mean?" I'm annoyed.
God has nothing to do with it. We are born into this world to experience all that is not God-like, so we can then be inspired to reach for higher spiritual goals.
I have never thought of it that way before. If that is so then I must be preparing for sainthood. Am I to think that all of my suffering as a child has been to prepare me for greatness? ~ Darwun St. James