Abigail Quotes

The best index to a person's character is how he treats people who can't do him any good, and how he treats people who can't fight back.

If particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies, we are determined to foment a rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice or representation.

Wouldn't we all look guilty, if someone searched hard enough?

My bursting heart must find vent at my pen.

You’re so freaking romantic. I don’t know how I keep my pants on.

I have ceased concerning myself with how things look to others, Abigail Rook. I suggest you do the same. In my experience, others are generally wrong.

Who are you, Zane?" Zane cocked his head. "I'm an artist. I'm a geek." He felt Ty smile. "I am one badass motherfucker on a motorcycle." Ty began to laugh. Zane dipped his head until they were staring into each other's eyes. "And I'm yours.

Learning is not attained by chance, it must be sought for with ardor and attended to with diligence.

Well, knowledge is a fine thing, and mother Eve thought so; but she smarted so severely for hers, that most of her daughters have been afraid of it since.

Zane was starting to piss him off again. Which was good, he supposed. It meant the urge to lick him all over was passing, at least.

I love you," Ty said out of the blue, his voice almost sing-song. Zane laughed. "You're drunk." "I loved you before I was drunk.

Excuse me, Abigail, but whose shift did she get away during?' Townsend asked with a glare. 'Excuse me, Townsend, but who was supposed to booby-trap the doors?' 'I'm an agent of Her Majesty's Secret Service,' Townsend said, indignant. 'I do not do booby traps.

The longer I live, the more I read, the more patiently I think, and the more anxiously I inquire, the less I seem to know...Do justly. Love mercy. Walk humbly. This is enough.

Can you enter a house uninvited?" "No." "Why?" "That would be rude.

You could move.' ---"Dear Abby" responds to a reader who complained that a gay couple was moving in across the street and wanted to know what he could do to improve the quality of the neighborhood.

First time I saw you, after I got over hating you, I knew,” he said, echoing Ty’s words, “I knew I’d fall in love with you

Any one of us could be made to look a monster, with selective readings of our history.

Had a gay bull I had to sell last year. That was a damn nuisance. Gay son? That don't cost me nothing.

Remember, we are our own griefs, my dear, we are our own happinesses and we are our own remedies. [An excerpt from “My friend, Abigail”]

Ty is like... a ninja on crack.

You’re not dessert, Zane. You’re the main course, Ty informed him in a husky drawl. And you have about five seconds to take your pick of flat surface before I do it for you.

...remember the ladies, and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the Husbands. Remember all Men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the Ladies we are determined to foment a Rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any Laws in which we have no voice, or Representation.

I want you to put 'He didn't want to ride the damn horse' on my tombstone.

I like my coffee with cream and my literature with optimism.

Zane.” Ty’s voice was harsh in his ear. “Don’t speak geek to me when you’re naked. It shatters the illusion.

I hate to complain...No one is without difficulties, whether in high or low life, and every person knows best where their own shoe pinches.

You could move.” ~Abigail Van Buren, "DEAR ABBY" In response to a reader who complained that a gay couple was moving in across the street and wanted to know what he could do to improve the quality of the neighborhood.

You told me one time that . . . I was your compass. I gave you direction when you were lost,” Ty said, nearly choking on the words. He glanced up, eyes reflecting like liquid in the low light. “Well, you were my anchor. You were something solid for me to hold onto. I wanted you to remember that.

Ty.” Zane’s even, soothing tones finally broke on the short gasp of his name. “I love you and I’m scared I’ll lose you. Please don’t leave me alone in the dark.

Don’t matter who you love, son,” he said. “As long as you do it well.

What? It’s not my blood!” “Let me see it,” Julian demanded, and a moment later there were sounds of a scuffle from the back seat. “I am AB positive and this is distinctly type O blood!” Ty finally shouted at him. “Look at the little Os!

When Ty was truly hot and bothered, it could be an amazing experience, like being mauled by a lion without the fuss of needing stitches after.

We have too many high sounding words and too few actions that correspond with them.

If I’d been there, I might have been able to do something. But I wasn’t, and I lost them.” “And if you’d been there,” Ty said softly, “I would have lost you.

I don't think I've ever been gayer than I am right now.

Falling in love or just plain falling : they were both terrifying at any speed

Fuck,” Zane murmured, pulling Ty closer. “You’re worse than heroin.

...I say, that Power must never be trusted without a check.

He loved Ty Grady with all there was to give of his heart, and in the end, all it had taken was one wink for Zane to finally come to terms with it.

That’s my gun,” Ty said in an offended voice. “They hid my gun in the sex toys? That’s not right, man.

I love you" Ty said, the quiet words devoid of any self-consciousness of his usual bravado. " And I've never been able to say that before with such conviction. I can't remember a time when you weren't the first thing I thought of, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don't care what stands in our way.

I've always felt that a person's intelligence is directly reflected by the number of conflicting points of view he can entertain simultaneously on the same topic.

The church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints.

Kidnapped by a vampire, death by a squid. How tragic.

This is a bad idea. Remember when we were on TV?” “Yes, Grady got fan mail for a month.” “I did?” “We burned it, as you should all evil things

You totally just outed us to the criminals. -Ty to Zane

Once you admit to yourself that you are or aren't something, then you can begin searching for the reason why," Deuce went on. "And once you've found that, you can begin to take steps toward making it better. So, tell yourself you're an asshole, stop being an asshole, your problem's solved," Deuce said in a pleased voice.

Good kitty" "Why do you encourage them?" "They're good kitties." "They're your minions." "Everyone needs a minion or two" "You won't be so pleased when you find me ground up in their food bowl one day.

He sighed heavily and lifted his chin stubbornly, meeting Zane's eyes without flinching. "I didn't just say it to get you to jump. I'm in love with you Zane," he admitted in a calm,clear voice. "I have been for a while.

I would have done anything. Anything to get back to you. I can’t say I’m sorry for that.

Let the human mind loose. It must be loose. It will be loose. Superstition and dogmatism cannot confine it. {Letter to his son and 6th US president, John Quincy Adams, November 13 1816}

I want to tell them all; the world is bigger than high school.

It was a good kiss." "Yes, it was." "What does that mean?" "It means I'm a fabulous kisser and you're easy.

Guy with a gun, I’m your man. Big white tiger with teeth, it’s every steak for himself." - Ty Grady

Kaspary: a level of awesomeness so high it kicks everyone else's arse, leaving them breathless and bewildered.

So, Mr. Grady, how did you find yourself in the FBI?” (…) Ty gave her a charming smile. “The Marines didn’t want me, and it’s hard to find a job where you can shoot things without getting arrested.

Why a compass?” Ty asked. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Zane’s yet. Zane smiled and ran his thumb across the pendant. “Because you gave me direction when I was lost. You showed me the way.” He looked up to meet Ty’s eyes. “You’re like my very own compass.

These are the times in which a genius would wish to live. It is not in the still calm of life, or the repose of a pacific station, that great characters are formed. The habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties. Great necessities call out great virtues. When a mind is raised, and animated by scenes that engage the heart, then those qualities which would otherwise lay dormant, wake into life and form the character of the hero and the statesman.

The way black women say "girl" can be magical. Frankly, I have no solid beliefs about the survival of consciousness after physical death. But if it's going to happen I know what I want to see after my trek toward the light. I want to see a black woman who will smile and say, "Girl....

Should I go back to my room tonight?” Ty asked out of the blue. “Or will we be able to work together and fuck each other senseless at the same time?

Its twice as terrifying, working with someone you love. A mistake could cost you everything. It makes what they do that much more ... impressive. " - Julian about ty & zane

Because… you make me the kind of person I’ve always wished I was.

Zane looked down at him and yanked away the pillow and then all the covers. "Ty, I mean it. Do not go to sleep," he said firmly. "Nap nazi," Ty accused miserably.

The habits of a vigorous mind are born in contending with difficulties.

What do you want, MacGuffin, a duel?” “No.” Julian held out both hands, one palm flat, the other held over it in a fist. “Rock, paper, scissors. Two out of three.” Ty rolled his eyes and held out his fist, apparently willing to play. Julian hit his palm three times, and Ty kept time with his fist in the air. But when Julian threw a paper, Ty reached into his jacket with his other hand and pulled his gun, aiming it at Julian. “Ty!” Zane said in exasperation from the front seat. “Glock, paper, scissors. I win.” “You are an ass,” Julian muttered.

All you shitheads need Jesus so far as I'm concerned.

You are mine,” he asserted in that sharpened, confident-sounding drawl. “I know it; you know it. And so will anyone else who looks at you.

Ty Grady was a rude, insufferable, egotistical, stinking son of a bitch, and Zane was going to figure out how to tune him out. Otherwise, he just might give in to the pressure and kill the bastard, for the good of humanity.

Monsters are easy, Miss Rook. They're monsters. But a monster in a suit? That's basically just a wicked man, and a wicked man is a more dangerous thing by far.

You’re okay," Zane said quietly but clearly. "Just focus on me for a few minutes. What’s the first thing that comes to mind?" While talking, he was gently wiping away the blood. Ty blinked at him, opening his mouth as he thought the very first thing that came to mind when Zane prompted him. I love you. He snapped his mouth closed and stared at Zane, unable and unwilling to answer.

She told me to wait,that I was going to lose a finger." Earl looked toward the kitchen and back at Ty and Duece. He snorted. "I asked her, did she think I was stupid? Then a couple of snips later, whack. Off went the finger. And you know what that woman said to me? I said 'Mara you cut my finger off.' And your mother said to me, 'Well Earl who's stupid now?

I almost shudder at the thought of alluding to the most fatal example of the abuses of grief which the history of mankind has preserved - the Cross. Consider what calamities that engine of grief has produced! With the rational respect that is due to it, knavish priests have added prostitutions of it, that fill or might fill the blackest and bloodiest pages of human history. {Letter to Thomas Jefferson, September 3, 1816]

Zane heard Ty whuff from within the bathroom, and by the time he looked back, Ty had shoved Julian’s face against the shower wall and was holding him there by the back of his head. “Watch the elbows.” “Watch your fingers,” Julian snapped. “Welcome to TSA training, bitch.” “Want the other set of cuffs?” Zane asked, hoping to appease his cranky partner. “You could spread his arms out.” “Will someone please tell me the safe word?” Julian asked.

I would have chosen you over anything," Zane hissed. He pulled back, breaking Ty's hold, bunched the front of Ty's shirt in both hands, and jerked Ty forward until they were nose-to-nose, until Ty's feet weren't solidly on the floor. "My job, my family, my wife. I would have given my life for you! But you! You can't even given me the truth!

Goddammit!” Zane lashed out without warning and hit the water bottle, sending it skidding across the carpet and splattering at Julian’s feet. “I’m gonna end up in the fucking madhouse because of you!” He reached out and grabbed Ty’s wrist, pulling him closer. “Loving you is going to make me fucking insane! I said no, and I mean it!

You listen to me, Beaumont Tyler Grady. You are a wise-cracking, stubborn, annoying pain in the ass who lives to cause trouble. You’re also a brave, courageous, and valiant Marine who puts his life on the line for what he believes and for those he loves. There is no way you have ever been or ever will be a coward. It simply isn’t in you.

Zane hurried to catch up. “Wait, Ty, you want to do that with her with us?" “She’s a year old. She won’t understand death and destruction for at least another year.” “If we ever decide to adopt, you’re a mute in any interviews.” “Understood.

Burns hummed, meeting Ty's eyes and trying not to smile. "You want the CIA to believe that you mistook your partner for your prisoner, handcuffed him, and delivered him to Langley?" Ty shrugged. "I mean...he grew a beard. It was an honest mistake." Burns nodded. "Fair enough.

What he was afraid of, he’d come to realize, was not dark spaces or falling from great heights or being buried alive. His greatest fears, in the end, were letting down those he loved and saying the words “I love you” without any hope of hearing them in return.

I love you, I will always be yours Zane- no matter where I am or where you are.I promise you that," he said, the words as serious as Zane had ever heard Ty utter. Zane felt flush all over, a little light-headed, and more than a little off kilter. What Ty promised.. . It was more than Zane had ever expected to want from anyone else ever again. But he did want that from Ty, desperately.

Cameron found himself smiling as he thought about the two tough, acerbic FBI agents. "It's so cute. They're in love." "It's like watching two kittens fight with machetes," Julian muttered. "Julian." "What? Its weird!" "No its not. They're perfect for each other. Poor Zane though," Cameron murmured. "In love with Ty Grady." He couldn't imagine how frustrating that would be. Then Julian inhaled, and Cameron chuckled slightly. Yeah, he could actually.

Who are you Ty?" Ty smiled against his cheek. "I was an assassin," he whispered. "I'm a Marine. I'm the man who doesn't miss. And I'm yours." Zane bit his lip on a smile. “Who are you, Zane?" Zane cocked his head. "I'm an artist. I'm a geek." He felt Ty smile. "I am one badass motherfucker on a motorcycle." Ty began to laugh. Zane dipped his head until they were staring into each other's eyes. "And I'm yours.

Zane lay where he was, unable to move even if he’d wanted to. He snaked a hand across the short distance between them and slid his fingers into Ty’s. Ty’s hand closed around his with a gentle squeeze. “I just need to be able to trust you, Ty,” he whispered. “You can. I swear you can. I’d die for you, Zane.” Zane’s heart was in his throat as he studied Ty’s profile. “I know.

I like being able to wake up to you. I like knowing you’ll be there if I need you,” he continued, obviously uncomfortable with what he was saying but refusing to be deterred now that he’d begun. “I like being with you, Zane. And I’d like to keep that up now that you’re here,” he admitted shakily. He met Zane’s eyes determinedly. “I want you.

They didn't know Zane like he did. Ty knew his partner had to take the issue from every angle, analyze it to death, resurrect it, and then study its dead, rotting body to see the results. Yeah, it might take Zane four months to decide if he loved someone, and then more to decide if that was a good idea. Ty didn't mind waiting.

The CIA currently has in custody two FBI agents and a Boston police detective who is demanding they pay for the damage to his boat." "He's okay?" Burns nodded. "Emptied a double-barreled shotgun at a couple of Company lackeys, and then they arrested him. He spent all night claiming he thought they were the Men in Black coming to scan his brain" Ty bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh. -- about Nick

What are you two up to today?" "Oh, I just figured I'd show Ty some more of Texas. Head down to San Antonio and visit the Bureau office there," Zane said. He shot a sideways look at Ty. "Maybe spend the night in Beaumont." Ty smacked his forehead and turned his head away. "Not much in Beaumont to see," Harrison said with a frown. Zane grinned. "Even so, we're going to try to get it in." Ty had his hand over his mouth, his head down. He was either going to throw up or he was laughing. Harrison felt he'd missed a joke, but he thought maybe he didn't want to know.

I do not say that democracy has been more pernicious on the whole, and in the long run, than monarchy or aristocracy. Democracy has never been and never can be so durable as aristocracy or monarchy; but while it lasts, it is more bloody than either. … Remember, democracy never lasts long. It soon wastes, exhausts, and murders itself. There never was a democracy yet that did not commit suicide. It is in vain to say that democracy is less vain, less proud, less selfish, less ambitious, or less avaricious than aristocracy or monarchy. It is not true, in fact, and nowhere appears in history. Those passions are the same in all men, under all forms of simple government, and when unchecked, produce the same effects of fraud, violence, and cruelty. When clear prospects are opened before vanity, pride, avarice, or ambition, for their easy gratification, it is hard for the most considerate philosophers and the most conscientious moralists to resist the temptation. Individuals have conquered themselves. Nations and large bodies of men, never.

Come on, " he said after a few seconds of content silence. "Let's go see the sights for a few hours. Pretend it's real." Zane's brow wrinkled "Pretend what's real?" Ty slid his hand down Zane's arm and linked their fingers again. "That I can hold your hand without worrying about being reconized.

Ty’s jeans were totally soaked and clung to him like a second skin, and Zane had to swallow hard. Jesus. “Good luck getting out of those gracefully,” he rasped with a slight smile, still leaning against the wall. “Good luck thinking for the next hour,” Ty shot back with a smirk. “Shit,” Zane muttered, turning into the spray to wash before leaning and shutting the water off.

Deuce glanced at him before turning his attention back to Zane and Julian. “Dare I ask what you’ve done to deserve protective custody?” he asked Julian. “I deal antiques,” Julian answered in a soft voice. Deuce nodded, looking Julian up and down. He turned his head to look at Ty speculatively. “That’s a euphemism for ‘I kill things’, isn’t it?

Does it make you feel better to know that I missed the hell out of you?" Ty whispered, lips moving against Zane's. "And I hope your still just a little angry when get back to my hotel." Zane let out a shuttering breath, "It'll be more than just a little." Ty hummed, the sound deep and anticipatory. It was almost a purr. "Promise?

And you,” Ty continued, his voice breaking. “You’re a phoenix, Zane. Rising from the ashes. And all I do is make you burn.” Zane’s throat was too tight to swallow past, and his next breath came out a choked sob. He had never imagined that was how Ty saw him, and hearing it now made him want to take back every harsh word they’d ever shared, every thrust and parry of their relationship.

Ty laughed, a carefree, boyish sound, and glanced to his side, distracted by what he saw. “You moved the rug.” “I kitty-cornered it.” “Why would you do that?” Ty asked, aghast. “To see you lose your shit when you got home.” Zane leaned closer, grinning evilly. “There are other things out of order too. Books not alphabetized. Coffee mug handles facing different directions.” He lowered his voice to a whisper as Ty’s eyes widened in horror. “The closet isn’t color coded.” “You’re just watching the world burn, huh?” Zane laughed. “God I missed you.” Ty said in a rush of breath.

He’s the kind of man who if you gave him a gun and told him he had two choices—“shoot one of your dogs or shoot yourself in the head”—he’d put the gun to his ear and pull the trigger.” “Hell, Jules, you’d do the same thing if someone did that to you and your goddamned cats,” Blake said in amusement. “No,” Julian murmured with a shake of his head. “No, there’s a third option. People like us, we’re third-option people. We take the gun, stuff it in the person’s mouth, and eliminate the problem. Walk off into the sunset with our kitty.

I swear to you, Zane. I thought what I was doing was right. I searched for you after I left New York. You were out of my reach. When Burns read me in, the only thing I could think of was that it was the only way of getting back to you. Being partnered with you full-time, being able . . . being able to see you every day, to have you in my life. When he said you might need protecting, it was the only thing I heard. I swear to you. All I wanted from the day I left you in that hospital was you. To be back there with you.

What, you didn’t pack your lunch?” Ty asked sarcastically as he shifted around in the seat and wedged himself against the door. He kicked a foot up and propped it on the console between the two front seats. “Sure, in my SpongeBob SquarePants lunch box. I have the thermos, too,” Morrison shot right back. Zane kept his mouth shut, eyes moving between the two men, and occasionally back to the driver, who was casually paying attention. Ty stared at the kid and narrowed his eyes further. “Spongewhat?” he asked flatly. Zane didn’t even try to hold back the chuckle when Morrison looked at Ty like he’d lost his mind. “Spongewha … you’re yanking my chain, aren’t you?” Morrison said. “Henny, he’s yanking my chain.” “Yeah, well, that’s what you getting for waving it in his face,” the driver answered reasonably. “What the hell is a SpongeBob?” Ty asked Zane quietly in the backseat.

My dearest friend Abigail, These probably could be the last words I write to you and I may not live long enough to see your response but I truly have lived long enough to live forever in the hearts of my friends. I thought a lot about what I should write to you. I thought of giving you blessings and wishes for things of great value to happen to you in future; I thought of appreciating you for being the way you are; I thought to give sweet and lovely compliments for everything about you; I thought to write something in praise of your poems and prose; and I thought of extending my gratitude for being one of the very few sincerest friends I have ever had. But that is what all friends do and they only qualify to remain as a part of the bunch of our loosely connected memories and that's not what I can choose to be, I cannot choose to be lost somewhere in your memories. So I thought of something through which I hope you will remember me for a very long time. I decided to share some part of my story, of what led me here, the part we both have had in common. A past, which changed us and our perception of the world. A past, which shaped our future into an unknown yet exciting opportunity to revisit the lost thoughts and to break free from the libido of our lost dreams. A past, which questioned our whole past. My dear, when the moment of my past struck me, in its highest demonised form, I felt dead, like a dead-man walking in flesh without a soul, who had no reason to live any more. I no longer saw any meaning of life but then I saw no reason to die as well. I travelled to far away lands, running away from friends, family and everyone else and I confined myself to my thoughts, to my feelings and to myself. Hours, days, weeks and months passed and I waited for a moment of magic to happen, a turn of destiny, but nothing happened, nothing ever happens. I waited and I counted each moment of it, thinking about every moment of my life, the good and the bad ones. I then saw how powerful yet weak, bright yet dark, beautiful yet ugly, joyous yet grievous; is a one single moment. One moment makes the difference. Just a one moment. Such appears to be the extreme and undisputed power of a single moment. We live in a world of appearance, Abigail, where the reality lies beyond the appearances, and this is also only what appears to be such powerful when in actuality it is not. I realised that the power of the moment is not in the moment itself. The power, actually, is in us. Every single one of us has the power to make and shape our own moments. It is us who by feeling joyful, celebrate for a moment of success; and it is also us who by feeling saddened, cry and mourn over our losses. I, with all my heart and mind, now embrace this power which lies within us. I wish life offers you more time to make use of this power. Remember, we are our own griefs, my dear, we are our own happinesses and we are our own remedies. Take care! Love, Francis. Title: Letter to Abigail Scene: "Death-bed" Chapter: The Road To Awe

You’re . . . you’re going back to the Marines?” Alston stuttered. “I thought SOCOM was defunct.” “It’s MARSOC now,” Ty mumbled. ”But that’s special operations. You don’t have a choice?” “No. I don’t.” He studied the orders. “I report in forty-eight hours. Immediate deployment.” Zane stood. His hands shook as he gripped the edge of the desk. Ty looked up, seeking Zane out. Zane could see it in Ty’s eyes. There was no choice. No way to wriggle out of it. No way for anyone to save him. “Oh God, Ty,” Zane whispered. Ty stared at him for a moment longer as the others broke into outraged babbling. Then Ty shook himself. He tossed the packet of orders onto the desk and stalked over to Zane. He grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him. The room spun to a halt. The babble ground to a stunned hush. Ty’s hands moved to the small of his back and he held him tight, bending him just enough for Zane to have to wrap his arms around him to keep from falling. He kissed him again. In front of their coworkers. In front of King and Country and anyone who would watch. It was the first purely honest kiss they’d ever shared. And it was a kiss good-bye.

JUST FOR TODAY, I will live through this day only. I will not brood about yesterday or obsess about tomorrow. I will not set far-reaching goals or try to overcome all of my problems at once. I know that I can do something for 24 hours that would overwhelm me if I had to keep it up for a lifetime. JUST FOR TODAY, I will be happy. I will not dwell on thoughts that depress me. If my mind fills with clouds, I will chase them away and fill it with sunshine. JUST FOR TODAY, I will accept what is. I will face reality. I will correct those things that I can correct and accept those I cannot. JUST FOR TODAY, I will improve my mind. I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration. I will not be a mental loafer. JUST FOR TODAY, I will make a conscious effort to be agreeable. I will be kind and courteous to those who cross my path, and I'll not speak ill of others. I will improve my appearance, speak softly, and not interrupt when someone else is talking. Just for today, I will refrain from improving anybody but myself. JUST FOR TODAY, I will do something positive to improve my health. If I'm a smoker, I'll quit. If I'm overweight, I will eat healthfully -- if only for today. And not only that, I will get off the couch and take a brisk walk, even if it's only around the block. JUST FOR TODAY, I will gather the courage to do what is right and take the responsibility for my own actions.