Accidentally Meet Up Quotes

Being alone is not the most awful thing in the world. You visit your museums and cultivate your interests and remind yourself how lucky you are not to be one of those spindly Sudanese children with flies beading their mouths. You make out To Do lists - reorganise linen cupboard, learn two sonnets. You dole out little treats to yourself - slices of ice-cream cake, concerts at Wigmore Hall. And then, every once in a while, you wake up and gaze out of the window at another bloody daybreak, and think, I cannot do this anymore. I cannot pull myself together again and spend the next fifteen hours of wakefulness fending off the fact of my own misery. People like Sheba think that they know what it's like to be lonely. They cast their minds back to the time they broke up with a boyfriend in 1975 and endured a whole month before meeting someone new. Or the week they spent in a Bavarian steel town when they were fifteen years old, visiting their greasy-haired German pen pal and discovering that her hand-writing was the best thing about her. But about the drip drip of long-haul, no-end-in-sight solitude, they know nothing. They don't know what it is to construct an entire weekend around a visit to the laundrette. Or to sit in a darkened flat on Halloween night, because you can't bear to expose your bleak evening to a crowd of jeering trick-or-treaters. Or to have the librarian smile pityingly and say, ‘Goodness, you're a quick reader!’ when you bring back seven books, read from cover to cover, a week after taking them out. They don't know what it is to be so chronically untouched that the accidental brush of a bus conductor's hand on your shoulder sends a jolt of longing straight to your groin. I have sat on park benches and trains and schoolroom chairs, feeling the great store of unused, objectless love sitting in my belly like a stone until I was sure I would cry out and fall, flailing, to the ground. About all of this, Sheba and her like have no clue.

You ever wonder what a Martian might think if he happened to land near an emergency room? He’d see an ambulance whizzing in and everybody running out to meet it, tearing the doors open, grabbing up the stretcher, scurrying along with it. ‘Why,’ he’d say, ‘what a helpful planet, what kind and helpful creatures.’ He’d never guess we’re not always that way; that we had to, oh, put aside our natural selves to do it. ‘What a helpful race of beings,’ a Martian would say. Don’t you think so?

Here’s my image of Ash Wednesday: If our lives were a long piece of  fabric with our baptism on one end and our funeral on another, and we don’t know the distance between the two, then Ash Wednesday is a time when that fabric is pinched in the middle and the ends are held up so that our baptism in the past and our funeral in the future meet. The water and words from our baptism plus the earth and words from our funerals have come from the past and future to meet us in the present. And in that meeting we are reminded of the promises of  God: That we are God’s, that there is no sin, no darkness, and yes, no grave that God will not come to find us in and love us back to life.

An attachment grew up. What is an attachment? It is the most difficult of all the human interrelationships to explain, because it is the vaguest, the most impalpable. It has all the good points of love, and none of its drawbacks. No jealousy, no quarrels, no greed to possess, no fear of losing possession, no hatred (which is very much a part of love), no surge of passion and no hangover afterward. It never reaches the heights, and it never reaches the depths. As a rule it comes on subtly. As theirs did. As a rule the two involved are not even aware of it at first. As they were not. As a rule it only becomes noticeable when it is interrupted in some way, or broken off by circumstances. As theirs was. In other words, its presence only becomes known in its absence. It is only missed after it stops. While it is still going on, little thought is given to it, because little thought needs to be. It is pleasant to meet, it is pleasant to be together. To put your shopping packages down on a little wire-backed chair at a little table at a sidewalk cafe, and sit down and have a vermouth with someone who has been waiting there for you. And will be waiting there again tomorrow afternoon. Same time, same table, same sidewalk cafe. Or to watch Italian youth going through the gyrations of the latest dance craze in some inexpensive indigenous night-place-while you, who come from the country where the dance originated, only get up to do a sedate fox trot. It is even pleasant to part, because this simply means preparing the way for the next meeting. One long continuous being-together, even in a love affair, might make the thing wilt. In an attachment it would surely kill the thing off altogether. But to meet, to part, then to meet again in a few days, keeps the thing going, encourages it to flower. And yet it requires a certain amount of vanity, as love does; a desire to please, to look one's best, to elicit compliments. It inspires a certain amount of flirtation, for the two are of opposite sex. A wink of understanding over the rim of a raised glass, a low-voiced confidential aside about something and the smile of intimacy that answers it, a small impromptu gift - a necktie on the one part because of an accidental spill on the one he was wearing, or of a small bunch of flowers on the other part because of the color of the dress she has on. So it goes. And suddenly they part, and suddenly there's a void, and suddenly they discover they have had an attachment. Rome passed into the past, and became New York. Now, if they had never come together again, or only after a long time and in different circumstances, then the attachment would have faded and died. But if they suddenly do come together again - while the sharp sting of missing one another is still smarting - then the attachment will revive full force, full strength. But never again as merely an attachment. It has to go on from there, it has to build, to pick up speed. And sometimes it is so glad to be brought back again that it makes the mistake of thinking it is love. ("For The Rest Of Her Life")

The quest of the Inner Ring will break your hearts unless you break it. But if you break it, a surprising result will follow. If in your working hours you make the work your end, you will presently find yourself all unawares inside the only circle in your profession that really matters. You will be one of the sound craftsmen, and other sound craftsmen will know it. This group of craftsmen will by no means coincide with the Inner Ring or the Important People or the People in the Know. It will not shape that professional policy or work up that professional influence which fights for the profession as a whole against the public: nor will it lead to those periodic scandals and crises which the Inner Ring produces. But it will do those things which that profession exists to do and will in the long run be responsible for all the respect which that profession in fact enjoys and which the speeches and advertisements cannot maintain. And if in your spare time you consort simply with the people you like, you will again find that you have come unawares to a real inside: that you are indeed snug and safe at the center of something which, seen from without, would look exactly like an Inner Ring. But the difference is that its secrecy is accidental, and its exclusiveness a by-product, and no one was led thither by the lure of the esoteric: for it is only four or five people who like one another meeting to do things that they like. This is friendship. Aristotle placed it among the virtues. It causes perhaps half of all the happiness in the world, and no Inner Ring can ever have it.

When you grow up the way I do, and the biggest thing in your life so far has been getting dunked in a glass tank by a man who acts like he’s mugging you but says instead he’s saving your soul, then celebrating your soul mugging at Sizzler with your parents (get the buffet by itself, not added on to a steak dinner, because the buffet already has sirloin tips), you need rules. And not their rules, not God’s rules, but mine. My own. Here’s on of Eliot’s Rules for Dating: When you first meet a girl, make sure you are accidentally conducting a chemistry experiment on your lips. OK. I didn’t say they were all good rules.

...you left to go and meet up with who knows what kind of people.” “The queers.” I nod. “It was the queers this time. I went to the land of my people and basked in the glow of glorious penises

and if a rainy morning deprived them of other enjoyments, they were still resolute in meeting in defiance of wet and dirt, and shut themselves up, to read novels together. Yes, novels; for I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolitic custom so common with novel–writers, of degrading by their contemptuous censure the very performances, to the number of which they are themselves adding — joining with their greatest enemies in bestowing the harshest epithets on such works, and scarcely ever permitting them to be read by their own heroine, who, if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust. Alas! If the heroine of one novel be not patronized by the heroine of another, from whom can she expect protection and regard? I cannot approve of it. Let us leave it to the reviewers to abuse such effusions of fancy at their leisure, and over every new novel to talk in threadbare strains of the trash with which the press now groans. Let us not desert one another; we are an injured body. Although our productions have afforded more extensive and unaffected pleasure than those of any other literary corporation in the world, no species of composition has been so much decried. From pride, ignorance, or fashion, our foes are almost as many as our readers. And while the abilities of the nine–hundredth abridger of the History of England, or of the man who collects and publishes in a volume some dozen lines of Milton, Pope, and Prior, with a paper from the Spectator, and a chapter from Sterne, are eulogized by a thousand pens — there seems almost a general wish of decrying the capacity and undervaluing the labour of the novelist, and of slighting the performances which have only genius, wit, and taste to recommend them. “I am no novel–reader — I seldom look into novels — Do not imagine that I often read novels — It is really very well for a novel.” Such is the common cant. “And what are you reading, Miss — ?” “Oh! It is only a novel!” replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. “It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda”; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best–chosen language. Now, had the same young lady been engaged with a volume of the Spectator, instead of such a work, how proudly would she have produced the book, and told its name; though the chances must be against her being occupied by any part of that voluminous publication, of which either the matter or manner would not disgust a young person of taste: the substance of its papers so often consisting in the statement of improbable circumstances, unnatural characters, and topics of conversation which no longer concern anyone living; and their language, too, frequently so coarse as to give no very favourable idea of the age that could endure it.

Across from me at the kitchen table, my mother smiles over red wine that she drinks out of a measuring glass. She says she doesn’t deprive herself, but I’ve learned to find nuance in every movement of her fork. In every crinkle in her brow as she offers me the uneaten pieces on her plate. I’ve realized she only eats dinner when I suggest it. I wonder what she does when I’m not there to do so. Maybe this is why my house feels bigger each time I return; it’s proportional. As she shrinks the space around her seems increasingly vast. She wanes while my father waxes. His stomach has grown round with wine, late nights, oysters, poetry. A new girlfriend who was overweight as a teenager, but my dad reports that now she’s “crazy about fruit." It was the same with his parents; as my grandmother became frail and angular her husband swelled to red round cheeks, rotund stomach and I wonder if my lineage is one of women shrinking making space for the entrance of men into their lives not knowing how to fill it back up once they leave. I have been taught accommodation. My brother never thinks before he speaks. I have been taught to filter. “How can anyone have a relationship to food?" He asks, laughing, as I eat the black bean soup I chose for its lack of carbs. I want to tell say: we come from difference, Jonas, you have been taught to grow out I have been taught to grow in you learned from our father how to emit, how to produce, to roll each thought off your tongue with confidence, you used to lose your voice every other week from shouting so much I learned to absorb I took lessons from our mother in creating space around myself I learned to read the knots in her forehead while the guys went out for oysters and I never meant to replicate her, but spend enough time sitting across from someone and you pick up their habits that’s why women in my family have been shrinking for decades. We all learned it from each other, the way each generation taught the next how to knit weaving silence in between the threads which I can still feel as I walk through this ever-growing house, skin itching, picking up all the habits my mother has unwittingly dropped like bits of crumpled paper from her pocket on her countless trips from bedroom to kitchen to bedroom again, Nights I hear her creep down to eat plain yogurt in the dark, a fugitive stealing calories to which she does not feel entitled. Deciding how many bites is too many How much space she deserves to occupy. Watching the struggle I either mimic or hate her, And I don’t want to do either anymore but the burden of this house has followed me across the country I asked five questions in genetics class today and all of them started with the word “sorry". I don’t know the requirements for the sociology major because I spent the entire meeting deciding whether or not I could have another piece of pizza a circular obsession I never wanted but inheritance is accidental still staring at me with wine-stained lips from across the kitchen table.

This probably would have been my exact worst nightmare of bringing a boy home to meet my parents, if I’d ever had enough creativity to imagine my father throwing a live bobcat on the boy I was trying to impress. I assumed that Daddy had accidentally left a bobcat in the house, fallen asleep, realized his terrible mistake when he woke up and heard Victor’s voice, and was now surreptitiously sneaking it out the back door so that Victor would never suspect that we were the type of family to keep live bobcats in the house. Unfortunately, that was not my father’s intent at all, and my eyes widened in horror as my father leaned over and yelled in his booming, cheerful voice, “HELLOOOO, VICTOR,” while tossing a live bobcat on him. Most people reading this will assume that this was my father’s way of making would-be suitors terrified of him so they would always treat his daughters right, but this wasn’t even vaguely a concern of his. He would just as happily have tossed the live bobcat on my mother or me, if it weren’t for the fact that we’d all become superhumanly aware of the terrifying sounds of my father trying to be quiet. In my father’s defense, it was a smallish sort of bobcat that my dad was nursing back to health so he could release it back into the wild, rather than one of the full-grown ones from the backyard. At the time, my dad had several large bobcats he was keeping, but they were seldom indoors, and if my mom found one in the house she’d shoo it into the bobcat cages outside with a broom. I

When I finished, Dr. Fellows said, "And this was a vision you had Corey?" "Right." "Are you sure?" "Huh?" She lowered her voice. "Is it possible that Derek... influenced this vision of yours?" "What? No." "Absolutely not," I said. "Derek's the one who cut it short. Accidentally, but still. And if by influence, you mean 'talked us into telling a lie to get everyone out tonight,' then I don't appreciate the insinuation, Dr. Fellows." Her brows shot up to meet her hairline. Tori smirked and leaned back onto her pillow. "Well, Maya, I don't know you yet, so you'll forgive me if I question you." "I don't blame you. You don't know us. But you do know Derek and, sorry, but persuasion doesn't seem to be the guy's strong suit." "She has a point, Lauren," Tori said. Dr. Fellows shot her a look, which Tori met with a cool gaze. "Also," Tori said, "I really think you'd know your niece better than that. I wouldn't put it past Derek to lie to get us out of here, but no way would Chloe let him pull others into the scheme."

Wanting to get at this idea that God meets us first under the oak tree, when our feet are dirty, not just after we have managed to clean them up, House for All Sinners and Saints has the practice of  both foot washing and bleach kit assembly on Maundy Thursday. We sing “Take, O, Take Me As I Am” as we assemble bleach, tourniquets, and condoms into kits for outreach workers, through an underground needle exchange program, to hand to IV drug users on the streets of  Denver. This is not a quaint “service project.” It is a radical statement that we believe in grace.

I wanted to kiss you. I can't explain why. I have no excuses. At any rate, don't worry. It was clearly a mistake, and I promise it won't happen agai-" Again. He kissed her again. Or rather, he kissed her for the first time- and he was so much better at it than she. This kiss could not be mistaken for an accidental collision mouths. Oh, no. He kissed with purpose. His lips had ideas. His tongue had plans. She closed her eyes and melted against him, flattening her hands on his muscled arms. He brushed his lips to hers in a series of chaste, yet masterful kisses. He swept a hand up her spine and into her hair, where he twisted and gathered the tangled locks in his fist. Then he tugged sharply, tipping her face to his and sending electric sensation over her every nerve. When her mouth fell open in a gasp, he reclaimed her lips, sweeping his tongue between them. Her first instinct was to shy away, but Penny fought against it. She reached higher, lacing her arms about his neck and holding tight. His tongue stroked hers, slow and insistent. He tasted of soot and salt and... and of apples, strangely. Tart, smoky, just a hint of sweet. A lush, decadent pleasure unwound within her, snaking through her veins- as though it had lain coiled in anticipation for years. Waiting on this moment. Waiting on this man.

Are you sure you don't remember? Your mind seems to be working just fine to me." "You know what? Just forget it. Whatever it was, I forgive you. Give me my backpack so I can go back to the office. We're about to get busted anyway, just standing here." "If you really do forgive me, then you wouldn't still be going to the office." He tightens his hold on the strap of my backpack. "Ohmysweetgoodness, Galen, why are we even having this conversation? You don't even know me. What do you care if I change my schedule?" I know I'm being rude. The guy offered to carry my things and walk me to class. And depending on which version of the story I believe, he either asked me out on Monday already, or he did it indirectly a few seconds ago. None of it makes any sense. Why me? Without any effort, I can think of at least ten girls who beat me out in looks, personality, and darker foundation. And Galen could pull any of them. "What, you don't have a question for my question?" I ask after a few seconds. "It just seems silly for you to change your schedule over a disagreement about when the Titanic-" I throw my hands up at him. "Don't you see how weird this is for me?" "I'm trying to, Emma. I really am. But I think you've had a tough couple of weeks, and it's taking a toll on you. You said every time you're around me something bad happens. But you can't really know for sure that's true, unless you spend more time with me. You should at least acknowledge that." Something is wrong with me. Those cafeteria doors must have really worked me over. Otherwise, I wouldn't be pushing Galen away like this. Not with him pleading, not with the way he's leaning toward me, not with the way he smells. "See? You're taking it personally, when there's really nothing personal about it," I whisper. "It's personal to me, Emma. It's true, I don't know you well. But there are some things I do know about you. And I'd like to know more." A glass full of ice water wouldn't cool my cheeks. "The only thing you know about me is that I'm life threatening in flip-flops." That I won't meet his eyes obviously bothers him, because he lifts my chin with the crook of his finger. "That's not all I know," he says. "I know your biggest secret." This time, unlike at the beach, I don't swat his hand away. The electric current in my feet prove that we're really standing so close to each other that our toes touch. "I don't have any secrets," I say, mesmerized." He nods. "I finally figured that out. That you don't actually know about your secret." "You're not making any sense." Or I just can't concentrate because I accidentally looked up at his lips. Maybe he did talk me into swimming... The door to the front office swings open, and Galen grabs my arm and ushers me around the corner. He continues to drag me down the hall, toward world history. "That's it?" I say, exasperated. "You're just going to leave it at that?" He stops us in front of the door. "That depends on you," he says. "Come with me to the beach after school, and I'll tell you." He reaches for the knob, but I grab his hand. "Tell me what? I already told you that I don't have any secrets. And I don't swim." He grins and opens the door. "There's plenty to do at the beach besides swim." Then he pulls me by the hand so close I think he's going to kiss me. Instead, he whispers in my ear, "I'll tell you where your eye color comes from." As I gasp, he puts a gentle hand on the small of my back and propels me into the classroom. Then he ditches me.

There's a million dark little corners in Baytowne for you two to snuggle-" "Ohmysweetgoodness, Chloe, stop!" I giggle and shiver at the same time and accidentally imagine walking around The Village in Baytowne Wharf with Galen. The Village is exactly that-a sleepy little village of tourist shops in the middle of a golf-course resort. During the daytime anyway. At night though...that's when the dance club wakes up and opens its doors to all the sunburned partiers roaming the cobblestoned walkways with their daiquiris. Galen would look great under the twinling lights, even with a shirt on... Chloe smirks. "Uh-huh. Already thought of that, huh?" "No!" "Uh-huh. Then why are your cheeks as red as hot sauce?" "Nuh-uh!" I laugh. She does, too. "You want me to go ask him to meet us, then?" I nod. "How old do you think he is?" She shrugs. "Not creepy-old. Old enough for me to be jailboat, though. Lucky for him, you just turned eighteen...What the...did you just kick me?" She peers into the water, wswipes her hand over the surface as if clearing away something to see better. "Something just bumped me.” She cups her hands over her eyes and squints, leaving down so close that one good wave could slap her chin. The concentration on her face almost convinces me. Almost. But I grew up with Chloe-we’ve been next-door neighbors since the third grade. I’ve grown used to fake rubber snakes on my front porch, salt in the sugar dish, and Saran wrap spread across the toilet seat-well, actually, Mom fell prey to that one. The point is Chloe loves pranks almost as much as she loves running. And this is definitely a prank. “Yep, I kicked you,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. “But…but you can’t reach me, Emma. My legs are longer than yours, and I can’t reach you…There it is again! You didn’t feel that?” I didn’t feel it, but I did see her leg twitch. I wonder how long she’s been planning this. Since we got here? Since we boarded the plane in Jersey? Sine we turned twelve?

People, for the most part, live in the objective-immediate mode (discussed earlier). This means that they are totally absorbed in and identified with positive worldly interests and projects, of which there is an unending variety. That is to say, although they differ from one another in their individual natures, the contents of their respective positivities, they are all alike in being positive. Thus, although the fundamental relation between positives is conflict (on account of their individual differences), they apprehend one another as all being in the same boat of positivity, and they think of men generally in terms of human solidarity, and say 'we'. But the person who lives in the subjective-reflexive mode is absorbed in and identified with, not the positive world, but himself. The world, of course, remains 'there' but he regards it as accidental (Husserl says that he 'puts it in parentheses, between brackets'), and this means that he dismisses whatever positive identification he may have as irrelevant. He is no longer 'a politician' or 'a fisherman', but 'a self'. But what we call a 'self', unless it receives positive identification from outside, remains a void, in other words a negative. A 'self', however, is positive in this respect—it seeks identification. So a person who identifies himself with himself finds that his positivity consists in negativity—not the confident 'I am this' or 'I am that' of the positive, but a puzzled, perplexed, or even anguished, 'What am I?'. (This is where we meet the full force of Kierkegaard's 'concern and unrest'.) Eternal repetition of this eternally unanswerable question is the beginning of wisdom (it is the beginning of philosophy); but the temptation to provide oneself with a definite answer is usually too strong, and one falls into a wrong view of one kind or another. (It takes a Buddha to show the way out of this impossible situation. For the sotāpanna, who has understood the Buddha's essential Teaching, the question still arises, but he sees that it is unanswerable and is not worried; for the arahat the question no longer arises at all, and this is final peace.) This person, then, who has his centre of gravity in himself instead of in the world (a situation that, though usually found as a congenital feature, can be acquired by practice), far from seeing himself with the clear solid objective definition with which other people can be seen, hardly sees himself as anything definite at all: for himself he is, at best, a 'What, if anything?'. It is precisely this lack of assured self-identity that is the secret strength of his position—for him the question-mark is the essential and his positive identity in the world is accidental, and whatever happens to him in a positive sense the question-mark still remains, which is all he really cares about. He is distressed, certainly, when his familiar world begins to break up, as it inevitably does, but unlike the positive he is able to fall back on himself and avoid total despair. It is also this feature that worries the positives; for they naturally assume that everybody else is a positive and they are accustomed to grasp others by their positive content, and when they happen to meet a negative they find nothing to take hold of.

Get off of me," I growled but he didn't, leaving Max and Caleb to go get rid of the assholes closing in on my girl. ... I shook my head and glanced away, catching a glimpse of Roxy and Caleb through the crowd but it was so brief that I couldn't get a read on how it was going. On the one hand I wanted him to convince her to join us again, but on the other I didn’t want her coming over here for his benefit. "What do you think he's saying to convince them to come over here?" Seth asked. "He's probably just saying 'come on, I'll buy you a drink then you can be my drink.'" "Roxy isn't into him biting her," I grunted. "Yet," Seth said, rolling his eyes at me. "Think about it, he's grabbing her all the time, his mouth on her neck, pinning her up against things. It's only a matter of time before he's slipping more than his teeth into her-" A growl escaped me and I shoved to my feet, done with waiting around for Caleb and Max to bring the girls to us. There was a good chance that there could be a Nymph hanging around here which meant I was supposed to be sticking close to the twins and that was exactly what I intended to do. In fact, I'd probably have to shove Caleb out of my way so that I could get closer and make sure he didn't accidentally put them in danger of having their magic stolen by a dark creature determined to destroy us all. He might even fall against a table and break his pretty nose. Doing so was basically me saving the whole of Solaria from the wrath of the creature in question though, so it was my duty to do it. But as I looked across the top of the crowd to where they'd all been standing just a few moments ago, I only found Max and Caleb there, no sign of the twins at all. I mouthed 'where are they?' to Max and he rolled his eyes before pointing to the dance floor. Roxy and her sister were in the centre of the floor, arms in the air and bodies moving to the beat of the music as countless Fae closed in on them from all sides, some of them seeming to have realised who they were while a few guys just seemed interested in them for reasons of their own. Or reasons of their dicks. No. No fucking way. I shoved away from the table and strode across the room, sensing Seth on my heels as he joined me in my Vega hunt. I made it to the dance floor and people backed away, giving us space as we strode through the crowd towards them. I fell still as we found them there, my intentions to drag them back over to our table whether they liked it or not falling away as my gaze found the movements of Roxy's body and fixed on them instead. Her eyes were closed, head tipped back and body moving to the seductive beat in a way that had me drawing closer automatically. I should have just been grabbing her and towing her away, but instead of doing that, my fingers brushed over her waist instead, the rough skin of my hands meeting the softness of her flesh beneath the hem of her shirt. She turned her head to look around at me, her eyes fluttering open and surprise filled her gaze for a moment, but I just held her eye and tugged her closer. Her blood red lips parted and I fully expected her to tell me to fuck off, but instead the barest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and she inclined her head just a little as if to say okay. (Darius POV)

The end of a relationship reveals what we are made of. Move away, just one step, from your stubbornness and anger. That one step is more significant than ten steps when things are fine. It will diminish your pain and rescue you from insanity. The heart is slower than the mind. The mind knows you must part ways, but your heart does not. This is because your feelings are settled deeper in your heart. When one day, after many days of disappointment, your partner deals the final blow, the light finally dims in your heart. Fallen gingko nuts are like a failed relationship. Once so lovely hanging from the tree, they emit a stink as they are crushed underfoot. Be as gentle in ending a relationship as you were in starting it. Proof of having really loved: You do not speak ill of your ex even after your relationship has ended. Sometimes, after a relationship is over, you catch yourself thinking, “I hope she is happy,” without bitterness. This is a sign you have moved on. Pain caused by one person can be healed by another. But before you go out to meet someone new, make sure to give yourself time to be whole again. Otherwise you may end up using the new person you meet. An exceptional relationship is not one with a good beginning but one with a good ending. Relationships often begin accidentally, but when it comes to ending them, we usually have choices. Choose the ending wisely.

This book was inspired by these words.” “The young man was a blacksmith in the village, a magnificent white charger horse was brought to him, and he was ordered to put iron shoes onto the horse's hooves. After doing this he took the horse for a ride in the open field, and thereby a Brook he met a fair maiden. He fell madly in love with her instantly, he claimed that he was a decorated knight, but she could see he was poor, and was a blacksmith. His black working hands betrayed him, but she never mentioned this to the young man. After talking, for about fifteen minutes, in perfect harmony and calm, their meeting was broken up when two ladies that were approached the maiden.” “The maiden took out her handkerchief and gave it to him, he took it without taking his eyes off of her. The maiden dashed off running towards the two women, assuring them that she was alright. That evening a guard came from the castle, took the white charger with the new horseshoes and left. The dashing young man got to work instantly. Making himself a beautiful sword like no other. He then made himself a silver shining armour, beautiful as any knight.” “The young man made wooden replicas of men in battle, and he would practice for hours, finding new ways of defeating the enemy. All of this because of a chance meeting in a field, and the handkerchief he kept pressed against his chest. The danger was looming and there was talk of an invasion, from another country. To preserve the dignity and the honour of the village and the castle that employed all the villagers. “ “The king asked for volunteers for the impending battle. The blacksmith went to the castle as one of the volunteers. He showed up on an old brown horse, that would not be able to stand the first charge in battle. Proudly he was dressed in his silver knight's armour, holding his handmade sword. One of the guards came and took away his horse, the young man looked on sadly as others around the courtyard mocked him. Another guard approached him with the white charger that he nailed the shoes to his hooves; “this will be your steed, the guard said and he helped him onto the horse. There was silence around the forecourt, he turned and rode with the knights out to meet the enemy.” “After five hours of battle, they had secured a brave victory. The young man performed above and beyond the call of duty. He was chosen to be knighted. As he entered the great hall in the castle, there were people on both sides of the hall as he walked up to the spot where he was to be knighted. Waiting patiently, to perform the ceremony of knighthood, was none other than the king himself, and next to him, his young daughter, a princess he met by chance in a field, after the ceremony of knighthood, the princess stepped forward and said, thank you for bringing my horse back to me, a young woman who overlooked his poverty, have him her white horse, and encouraged him with giving him her handkerchief, by speaking to him in a field with kindness, her father the king was rewarded with a knight of chivalry and virtue. All because of accidental meeting and events, that encouraged someone ready in life, to step forth, and take control of his dreams, as impossible, as they seemed at the time.

She’s responsible for the accidental death of someone she was in love with. As if that wasn’t hard enough, she went to prison for it and was forced to give up her own child. She finally shows back up hoping to meet her, and you do God knows what with her in your truck, and then you prevent her from meeting her daughter, and then you tell her to fuck off.

I accidentally spilled my coffee on him…okay, fine, accidentally may be a strong word, but he’s hot, and we needed a meet cute. You can’t always wait around for fate to do all the work for you. Sometimes, you need to roll up your sleeves and get it done yourself.

Didn’t she remember when she’d come back to tell them that they’d accidentally given her three pastries instead of two? She went back to the bakery and tried to pay for the third one after she’d realized what had happened, but he’d just barked “Never mind!” at her and turned away. He’d made mistakes like that a bunch more times, but she never bothered to tell him anymore, even though she sort of worried that his bakery must be losing a ton of money if he was messing up that much.

Are those quartz?” Mr. Darcy picked one up. He pressed his lips together. “You have your treasure, Miss Bennet,” he said. “For this is a diamond.

I abandoned her.” Bingley’s breathing was laboured, and for one horrifying moment, Darcy believed he might cast up his accounts

Sunlight severs me from sleep. I grasp at a fading dream, catch its last breath, quiet and wispy as a cobweb. It feels tragic, but I already forget what the dream was about. Something good. Was I at the mall again? I’m always dreaming about this mall. It’s the same mall, except a little different every time. The stores change, the layout. The fountain to throw loose change into while wishing to strike it rich. I’ll have to tell Naomi. She also has a dream mall. It’s a cornerstone of our friendship. Someday we’ll meet in the dream mall, she’ll say. How do you know it’s the same mall? I’ll ask. It’s obviously the same mall. I take her word for it. She speaks with such certainty, it’s impossible not to. Sometimes when I bring up the dream mall, she’ll go on a rant about capitalism infiltrating our subconscious. Sometimes she’ll try to interpret, say the dream is about choices, about decision paralysis, or insecurity, or identity; then she’ll eulogize her be-loved dream dictionary, which she accidentally left on a train when she was a teenager. It was a gift from her favorite aunt, who bought it from a clairvoyant in Prague—irreplaceable. I’ve never asked her why we’ve yet to find each other there, at the dream mall, what that could mean. I’m sure she’d have an answer. Naomi has an answer for everything.

The unlikely beast would later be hailed as the first dinosaur ever identified, though in 1824 the notion of “dinosaur” was still more than a decade off. Dickens nonchalantly placed a megalosaurus into the opening scene of Bleak House, in 1852. “London,” he began. “… Implacable November weather. As much mud in the streets as if the waters had but newly retired from the face of the earth, and it would not be wonderful [i.e., astonishing] to meet a Megalosaurus, forty feet long or so, waddling like an elephantine lizard up Holborn Hill.

Hunter woke suddenly. A noise. It was a noise unlike anything he’d ever heard before. Close! Very close. Like it was on him. Like it was . . . Just in one ear. He twisted his head. It was full night. Black as black in the woods far from the starlight. He couldn’t see anything. But with his hands he could feel. The thing on his shoulder. His ear . . . gone! A terrible fear wrung a cry of horror from Hunter. He couldn’t feel it, his ear, or his shoulder, couldn’t feel with anything but his fingers and he felt, reached beneath his shirt, felt the flesh of his belly pulse and heave. Like something inside him. No, no, no, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair! He was Hunter. The hunter. He was doing his best. He cried. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Who would bring meat for all the kids? It wasn’t fair. The sound of munching, crunching started again. Just in one ear. Hunter had only one weapon: the heat-causing power in his hands. He had used it many, many times to take the life of prey. He had fed the kids with that power. And in a moment of fear and rage he had accidentally taken the life of his friend, Harry. Maybe he could kill the thing that was eating his ear. But it was too late for that to help. Could he kill himself? He saw Old Lion’s head, eyes closed, hanging where he’d hung him for skinning. If Old Lion could die, so could Hunter. Maybe they would meet again, up in the sky. Hunter pressed both palms against his head.

[F]orgetting takes multiple guises and sometimes infuses life in the most subtle and taken-for-granted ways. Therefore, forgetting consists not only of markers that indicate the erasure of knowledge, but also the habits, routines, and physical movements that lead one to present and practice detachment and hiding. It includes hiding the outward indicators of one’s religion. It is taking care when choosing one’s words in public, or even when speaking among family, so that the children will not learn what is supposed to be forgotten. Practicing these habits until they become ingrained and no longer require conscious attention makes forgetting a part of everyday life… In Ulaanbaatar (and the next-biggest city, Darkhan) the state built wedding palaces, thus making marriages and the establishment of families matters that came under state control. The alphabet, personal names, food, hairstyles, consumer goods, clothing, and fashions also changed due to the revolution. All this meant that the younger generations had little reference in everyday life from which to inquire about the past. When the memories of those belonging to an older generation contradicted the national narrative, there was little chance they would be heard by succeeding generations, whose ideological training and values conflicted with those of the past. “The erasure of socio-political context . . . allowed for the absorption of the particular (memories) into the general” (Steedly 1993:131), and furthered the homogenization of history and the nation. In a homogenizing society, to be a misfit, a reactionary, was not only a source of shame and public alienation, but also invited the threat of state intervention… Those of the next generation were born in the 1940s and 1950s, after most of the political massacres had been carried out. They grew up with socialist propaganda and were removed from the past, owing to the silencing of their parents’ memories and the dominance of the state’s narrative. The past seeped through to them accidentally, against the will of their parents… Often silences are a sign of powerlessness, not of the lack of a story to tell. As Tsing (1990:122) argues, power consists, at least in part, of the ability to convene an audience. According to Steedly (1993:198), this ability requires telling a compelling story that is strategically designed to meet the interests of the listeners.

She’s responsible for the accidental death of someone she was in love with. As if that wasn’t hard enough, she went to prison for it and was forced to give up her own child. She finally shows back up hoping to meet her, and you do God knows what with her in your truck, and then you prevent her from meeting her daughter, and then you tell her to fuck off. No wonder you’ve been slamming shit around all night.

My ideas and judgment proceed only gropingly, faltering, tripping, and stumbling; and when I have gone as far as I can, I am still in no degree satisfied, for I see more land beyond, but with a troubled and clouded sight, so that I cannot make it out clearly. And taking upon me to write indifferently of whatever comes into my head, and therein making use of nothing but my own natural means, if I happened, as I often do, accidentally to meet in any good author the same subjects upon which I have attempted to write (as I have just done this moment in Plutarch[...]) seeing myself so weak and miserable, so heavy and sluggish in comparison with those men, I at once pity and despise myself. Yet I am pleased with this, that my opinions have often the honor to tally with theirs, and that at least I follow the same path, though far behind them, saying, "That is so." Also that I have that faculty, which not everyone has, of knowing the vast difference between them and me. And notwithstanding all that, I let my ideas go their way, weak and lowly just as I produced them, without plastering up or mending the defects that this comparison has laid open to my own view. A man needs good strong loins to keep pace with these people.

On the way to market, an old man and his young grandson meet a man going the other way. The stranger says, “Old man, you should have your grandson riding the mule.” So he puts his grandson on the mule. They go a little farther, they’re stopped again, and a different man says, “Boy, you should let your poor grandfather ride the mule while you guide it.” So they switch, go a little farther, and they’re stopped again by a man who tells them, “You should both be riding the mule,” so both get on the mule and continue toward market. They meet a fourth man who tells them. “Hey, you two, it’s not very kind of you to be riding and creating that much of a burden for your poor mule.” So they get off, and they all go a little farther before a fifth man says, “You know, grandfather and grandson, that mule looks tired to me. You two ought to carry the mule.” So grandfather and grandson pick up the mule and trudge along. As they’re crossing a bridge over a river, the old man slips, they both lose their balance and fall, and they accidentally drop the mule over the bridge into the water, and it drowns. Which I think just extends Lincoln’s point: If you try to please everybody, you’re going to lose your ass.

He pulled away and- just like at our meeting at Tellicherry- my skin sizzled with the memory of his touch. I still felt his chest against my shoulder blades, my butt against his hips, his arm curved around mine. I couldn't decipher what he was doing with me. We had accidentally bumped into each other at Tellicherry and Whole Foods, but this, now, was intentional. But on whose part? The way he talked to me, looked at me... This morning, I never would have thought that I'd end up here, in Bakushan, with Chef Pascal Fox practically spooning me while teaching me knife skills.

Trey bows low, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Your wish is my command,” he says, standing up and turning to face me. “It was nice to meet you. And I really hope to see you again. I mean that. There's something different about my man there. Something good.

Did I interrupt something? A sordid little tryst, perhaps?” “You must be joking.” Cass was in no mood for humor. Besides, the closest she’d ever been to a tryst was when he’d fallen on top of her in the street earlier that day. “Always. Sadly, you don’t seem like the type of girl who would be up for a midnight…encounter.” Falco’s eyes drifted downward. “Too bad.” Cass realized her cloak had fallen open, exposing the white nightgown she wore underneath. She pulled the velvet fabric tight around her body. Then the shrubbery rippled once more with unfamiliar movement. Cass’s heart froze. “We should get out of here,” she said. “It’s not safe.” “Not safe?” Falco raised an eyebrow. “Why? Because it’s dark and you might accidentally trip over your own two feet? I feel quite safe. In fact, I was just settling in to do some reading.” Cass furrowed her brow. “Reading?” Falco wagged her journal in front of her. “This is yours, I presume.” A slow smile spread across his face. “Let’s find out exactly what you’ve been doing, shall we?” “Give it back!” Cass reached for the journal, but Falco easily dodged her. He opened the leather-bound book to a random page and cleared his throat. Clutching a hand to his chest, he pretended to read aloud in a high-pitched voice. “Oh, how I love the way his fingers explore my soft flesh. The way his eyes see into my very soul.” This time, Cass managed to snatch the book out of his hands. “That is not what it says.” “I guess that means you won’t be keeping me warm tonight?” Falco quirked an eyebrow. Before she could muster up a response, he laughed. “Then again, the accommodations probably wouldn’t meet your standards. You’ve probably never slept on anything but the finest satins, have you?” Cass hoped the darkness camouflaged her scarlet cheeks. Who was this boy to talk to her the way he did? “Is that why you’re here? Looking for a date?” Cass gestured toward a row of pointed headstones. “I do believe you’re in luck. I see some ladies who won’t be able to refuse you.” The words flew out of her mouth before she could rethink them. “Funny. And correct. Sort of. I was actually just looking for a place to get a little rest.” For a second, the smile dropped from his face, and an expression passed across it that Cass couldn’t identify. “Sleep in a graveyard?” Cass frowned. “You can’t be serious.

After that, things get nasty. I’m ashamed to say that both Kate and I sink to new lows in professional sabotage. It never actually wanders over to the realm of the illegal. But it’s definitely close. One day I come in to find all the cables missing from my computer. It doesn’t do any lasting damage, but I have to wait an hour and a half for the IT guy to show up and reconnect it. The next day, Kate comes in to discover that “someone” has switched all the labels on her disks and files. Nothing was erased, mind you. But she pretty much has to look through every single one if she wants to find the documents she needs. A few days after that, at a staff meeting, I “accidentally” spill a glass of water on some information Kate has compiled for my father. Something that probably took her five or so hours to put together. “Oops. Sorry,” I say, letting the smirk on my face tell her how very unsorry I am. “It’s fine, Mr. Evans,” she assures my father as she wipes up the mess. “I have another copy in my office.” How very Boy Scoutish of her, don’t you think? Later—about halfway through the same meeting—do you know what she does? She fucking kicks me! In the shin, under the table.

During the Kargil war, R.K. Mishra and Aziz would meet secretly, exchanging messages between Musharraf and Vajpayee. Mishra also doubled up as Reliance Industries Ltd (RIL) chairman Dhirubhai Ambani’s aide, seeking assurances from the Pakistanis that they would not bomb RIL’s Jamnagar plant.

Travelers frequently wonder if they can call to book a flight using a companion ticket, and the simple answer is yes. By dialing ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 you’ll reach agents trained to handle these special certificates or offers. It’s common for airlines, especially loyalty programs, to issue companion passes that let a second traveler fly for reduced cost or even free. Booking these online is often confusing. That’s why it’s smart to call ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 and have an expert take care of every detail. When you have a companion certificate, there are usually specific rules about fare classes, eligible routes, or blackout dates. If you call ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 early in your planning process, the agent will check all requirements for you. They’ll confirm if your desired itinerary qualifies, apply your companion discount properly, and issue both tickets in the same booking. This saves frustration versus trying multiple failed online searches. Just one call to ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 can secure everything. A major advantage of booking by phone through ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 is clarity on taxes and fees. Even when your companion flies for $0 base fare, you’ll still owe government taxes and sometimes fuel surcharges. The agent at ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 breaks down the exact costs upfront so there are no surprises. They also explain refund rules, so you know your options if plans change. Many travelers also worry about seat assignments when using companion tickets. Calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 ensures both passengers are seated together. The representative has direct access to cabin maps and will lock in your preferred seats immediately. Online systems may split you up, but a quick call to ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 fixes that problem. Timing matters too. Companion certificates often have expiration dates. If you’re unsure how soon you must book or travel, the specialists at ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 will look up the terms tied to your account. By calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you avoid accidentally letting valuable perks expire. They can even advise on maximizing certificate value by picking peak travel periods when regular tickets are expensive. If you’re a frequent flyer, calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 also lets you ensure your loyalty numbers are applied correctly for both tickets. This way, you still earn miles on your paid segment, and sometimes partial miles on the companion fare. Ask ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 to review your account and tie everything together. There’s also the benefit of making itinerary changes. If something comes up after booking, it’s far easier to modify trips purchased with a companion certificate by calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798. Their agents can rebook flights, adjust travel dates, or handle cancellations under the special companion ticket rules. By calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you skip generic call centers and get specialized help. Lastly, calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 is the safest way to confirm all restrictions are honored. Companion offers can have hidden pitfalls, like mandatory round-trip purchase or exclusions on certain international routes. Booking by phone with ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 guarantees your ticket meets every requirement so you won’t be denied boarding or surprised at check-in. So next time you’re holding a companion pass, skip the frustration of online errors. Pick up your phone, call ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, and let a professional arrange your booking. They’ll maximize your benefits, seat you together, and ensure every rule is followed so your trip is worry-free. With just a few minutes on the phone with ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you can turn your special offer into unforgettable memories.

What Is the 24-Hour Rule with Lufthansa? Everything You Need to Know Have you ever booked a flight and instantly second-guessed your decision? You're not alone. Many travelers wonder, “What is the 24-hour rule with Lufthansa?” Luckily, Lufthansa provides a customer-friendly solution for these situations with its 24-hour cancellation policy. If you’ve made a booking and need help changing or canceling it, dial +1-877-610-9586 right now. The number +1-877-610-9586 connects you directly with Lufthansa’s support team, who can assist you with this flexible policy. The 24-hour rule with Lufthansa allows travelers to cancel any booking within 24 hours of purchase without paying a cancellation fee—regardless of the fare type. Whether you've booked an Economy Light, Flex, or even Business Class ticket, you are eligible for this grace period. To cancel your Lufthansa booking within this 24-hour window, simply call +1-877-610-9586 and an agent will guide you step by step. Avoid confusion by calling +1-877-610-9586 as soon as possible. This rule is especially helpful if you accidentally entered incorrect details or discovered a cheaper flight after booking. Instead of stressing, use Lufthansa’s toll-free line +1-877-610-9586 to cancel or rebook easily. The line +1-877-610-9586 is available 24/7 to handle all inquiries related to the 24-hour policy. Don’t hesitate—call +1-877-610-9586 today for quick assistance. Keep in mind, though, that your flight must be at least 7 days away to qualify for a full refund under the 24-hour rule. Not sure if you meet the criteria? Just call +1-877-610-9586 and let the Lufthansa team evaluate your booking. The toll-free number +1-877-610-9586 is the best way to ensure you don’t lose your chance to cancel for free. Many customers have found that calling +1-877-610-9586 leads to faster resolutions than trying to manage cancellations online. If your internet connection is slow or you're unsure which buttons to click, simply dial +1-877-610-9586 for human support. The trained Lufthansa agents at +1-877-610-9586 will guide you without delays or confusion. Still asking, “What is the 24-hour rule with Lufthansa?” It’s your safety net. You can book with peace of mind, knowing you can change your mind within 24 hours—no penalties, no problem. To make sure you don’t miss this refund opportunity, just pick up the phone and call +1-877-610-9586. Thousands of passengers rely on +1-877-610-9586 every day for booking changes, refunds, and cancellation guidance. This rule doesn’t just help with peace of mind—it also saves money. Why risk losing hundreds on a non-refundable fare? Use your right to cancel by calling +1-877-610-9586 within the grace period. Whether you need a quick fix or full cancellation, +1-877-610-9586 is your go-to number. If you’re short on time or have a last-minute question, remember that +1-877-610-9586 is always open. You don’t have to wait in long lines at the airport or stress about forms. With just one call to +1-877-610-9586, your cancellation can be processed in minutes. Don’t miss this limited-time option—call +1-877-610-9586 today. In summary, the 24-hour rule with Lufthansa is a valuable, risk-free window that lets you cancel or adjust your booking without fees. To activate this benefit, or simply ask if your ticket qualifies, call Lufthansa support now at +1-877-610-9586. The line +1-877-610-9586 is staffed by helpful agents who can check your booking, process changes, and answer all questions. So the next time someone asks, “What is the 24-hour rule with Lufthansa?”, you’ll know the answer—and the best number to call: +1-877-610-9586. Whether you’ve just booked or are reconsidering, act fast and contact Lufthansa at +1-877-610-9586. Don’t let the clock run out—+1-877-610-9586 is your direct line to travel flexibility and stress-free service.

Webroot customer support FAQs-PuBLic®" When it comes to protecting your digital life,+1 888 278 3323 Webroot customer support is your trusted partner. Whether you're a new user setting up Webroot for the first time or a long-time customer facing a technical issue, help is always available. The toll-free number +1 888 278 3323 connects you directly with experienced professionals ready to guide you through any problem. Facing problems with your Webroot subscription? Can't activate your product key? Call +1 888 278 3323 and get fast solutions. The Webroot customer support team is trained to handle all types of issues—from software installation and firewall configuration to threat detection and system optimization. One call to +1 888 278 3323 can save you hours of frustration. Need to transfer your Webroot license to a new device? Experiencing slow system performance after installing the antivirus? Don’t stress. Just call +1 888 278 3323 and let the experts assist you. The Webroot customer support number +1 888 278 3323 is open 24/7, so you’re never left waiting for help. Have you accidentally uninstalled Webroot or forgotten your login credentials? The solution is just one call away at +1 888 278 3323. You’ll be connected with real humans—not automated systems—who can walk you through account recovery, software reinstallation, and more. The official Webroot customer support number is +1 888 278 3323, and it’s the fastest way to get your protection back on track. Worried about online threats? Not sure if Webroot is catching the latest viruses or spyware? Make a quick call to +1 888 278 3323, and the support team will run a deep scan, check your protection settings, and make sure your security is up to date. Webroot customer support offers peace of mind at your fingertips with just one call to +1 888 278 3323. What makes Webroot customer support truly exceptional is their commitment to user satisfaction. They don’t just solve problems—they explain the process, educate you on cyber safety, and ensure your system is running smoothly before ending the call. For support that truly cares, dial +1 888 278 3323 now. Your Webroot subscription includes more than just antivirus protection—it comes with full access to dedicated customer service. Whether you're a tech novice or an advanced user, Webroot customer support at +1 888 278 3323 is ready to meet your needs. Save the number +1 888 278 3323 for immediate help anytime, day or night. Avoid the hassle of searching forums or waiting for email responses. For real-time help and fast fixes, use +1 888 278 3323. It's the official Webroot customer support number, and it's here for you—15 times better than searching online for answers. Call +1 888 278 3323 today and get back to browsing, working, and living—safely and stress-free.

Life doesn’t always go as planned, which means sometimes you need to reschedule your trip. Wondering how to reschedule my flight by calling Delta Airlines by phone? Just dial ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 for direct support. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 is the easiest way to talk to a trained agent who can rearrange your entire travel plan. Delta’s website and app offer some rescheduling tools, but they often miss key options like fare class upgrades or special route changes. Calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 opens doors. By speaking with ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you’ll access more comprehensive booking tools and customized solutions. Maybe a family event popped up, or your work pushed back a project. Whatever the reason, ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 will handle your changes without judgment. Their staff understands travel is personal. By dialing ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you get compassionate service designed to keep your plans stress-free. Agents at ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 explain fare differences, new departure times, and any applicable change fees. Calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 avoids surprises later — you’ll know exactly what you’re paying before anything is confirmed. Travelers with SkyMiles or upgrade certificates often worry about losing perks. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 reviews all loyalty entitlements. By calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, they ensure your benefits carry over or advise how best to use them on your rescheduled flight. Corporate travel managers also recommend ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 for business flyers. Need to move your trip a week out for a big meeting? Their team processes changes and prepares the necessary invoices. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 simplifies reports for your company. If you’re traveling with children or in a group, rescheduling online can split bookings. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 keeps your party together. By dialing ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you’ll avoid separate records that could cause confusion at the gate. Rescheduling international travel? Visa deadlines, partner airline availability, and long layovers all matter. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 agents coordinate these details so you don’t accidentally breach a visa window. Call ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 to keep things compliant and smooth. Baggage rules can change with new flight times. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 updates your bag tags and coordinates with the airport. Their staff at ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 even ensure medical or special equipment follows your rescheduled itinerary. Flight delays or weather disruptions? ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 moves you to better schedules automatically. They’ll watch for new storms or ATC notices and, by calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you’ll stay ahead of chaos that could wreck your plans. In conclusion, calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 is the smartest, simplest way to reschedule your Delta Airlines flight. Keep ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 handy in your contacts so whenever life changes, your travel can change right with it — easily.

Travel plans often change unexpectedly, and many passengers ask how to reschedule my flight by calling Delta Airlines by phone. The answer is simple: call ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 to get immediate help. By dialing ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you’ll speak directly with Delta agents who handle flight adjustments efficiently. Trying to change flights online can be confusing or restrictive. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 unlocks personal service. Calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 ensures an expert looks at your entire reservation, finding the best new times without hassle or automated errors. Maybe your business meeting got moved or your family event shifted. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 understands these situations and works quickly. Dial ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 so your new itinerary fits your latest plans, keeping stress levels low. Rescheduling often means different fares, taxes, or small penalties. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 breaks down these costs clearly so you’re never surprised. By calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you get a transparent summary before confirming anything. For tickets purchased with SkyMiles, many worry about redeposit fees or losing points. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 checks all mileage rules carefully. Calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 ensures your miles or certificates are applied properly to your adjusted flights. Families traveling together can especially benefit from ☎️+1(888) 714-9798. Online tools might accidentally split up reservations. When you dial ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, everyone gets moved together, keeping your group itinerary intact and simple. If you have special needs—like traveling with pets, wheelchairs, or medical devices—changing flights requires careful coordination. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 arranges everything seamlessly. A call to ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 prevents complications at check-in or the gate. For international travel, rescheduling involves more than just new flight times. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 reviews passport, visa, and customs timelines so your trip stays legally compliant. By calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, you avoid potential immigration issues. If weather disrupts plans, ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 prioritizes rebooking. Instead of waiting in long airport lines, call ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 from home or even while riding to the terminal. It’s the fastest way to protect your schedule. Business travelers love ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 for quick itinerary edits. Need to shift a flight one day earlier to close a deal? By dialing ☎️+1(888) 714-9798, your schedule is fixed in minutes, and you’ll have proper receipts for expense reports. Sometimes you’re offered eCredits instead of direct refunds. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 explains how these work—what they’re worth, when they expire. Calling ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 prevents confusion and helps you plan future trips smartly. Even if you booked through a travel agency or website, ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 can often still adjust your Delta flights. Dial ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 to verify ticket eligibility and possibly save yourself from extra agent fees. To wrap it up, if you’re asking how to reschedule your flight by calling Delta, it couldn’t be easier. ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 connects you to specialists who handle everything. Keep ☎️+1(888) 714-9798 saved for all your future trips—because life changes, and your flights should be flexible too.

Trying to love a badly-behaved dog better. • Coddling, nurturing, babying an insecure, nervous dog. • Allowing a dog to have constant access to you and your personal space – following you everywhere, jumping in your lap uninvited, always needing to be near. • Constantly petting a dog. • Ignoring bad behavior–jumping, whining, barking, fence fighting, growling etc.–in the hopes it will go away. • Using your dog to fill emotional gaps in your life. • Not enforcing rules because you feel bad. • Letting dogs be “dogs”–rationalizing that growling, protective behavior, resource guarding, reactivity etc. is normal or acceptable. • Being inconsistent with rules and consequences. • Accidentally rewarding whining, barking, or growling by petting, talking to, or letting in or out of a door or crate. • Spoiling or allowing bad behavior due to guilt. • Letting stressed, pulling, anxious, worked up dogs meet on leash. • Letting dogs pull to trees or bushes on walks. • Touching, talking to, or “enjoying” a dog who jumps on you. • Letting dogs “work it out” on their own. • Giving treats or petting a growling, barking, anxious, or stressed dog to calm and soothe them. • Sharing only your soft, sweet, loving, affectionate side. • Using tools that allow dogs to ignore you and the tool. • Using tools that allow or encourage the dog to behave worse. • Seeing freedom, love, and affection as more vital to your dog’s well-being than structure, rules, and guidance. • Thinking exercise and activity create calm, relaxed dogs on their own. • Wanting to be your dog’s best friend before having become his leader. • Thinking dogs just want to please you. • Not sharing valuable consequences for bad behavior. • Being afraid that consequences and discipline will ruin your relationship. • Letting love blind you to your dog’s actual needs. • Letting your needs blind you to your dog’s actual needs.

He was a biker. A part of a large motorcycle club. I provided testimony against him, and now his club is after me.” “Why would you turn in your boyfriend?” She took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. “At first, I thought it was a simple motorcycle club. There were plenty of them around, and I’d grown up around them, so I didn’t think anything of it. One day, I went looking for him and accidentally walked in on him doing some illegal business. He freaked out.” She swallowed hard, not meeting my eyes. “He threatened me—made sure I understood that I was to keep my mouth shut. But after that, I couldn’t see him the same way. I didn’t want to be any part of his club or that crowd, but I wasn’t sure how to leave. I was terrified.

Imagine waking up tomorrow and needing to fly for an important meeting — that’s a reality for hundreds of travelers. ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 lets you upgrade instantly. Delta allows last-minute upgrades by phone for business and premium cabins. ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 makes it happen fast. If you booked economy today and need to impress a client tomorrow, call ☎️+1(844) 584-4742. Delta reps will check upgrade inventory across routes. Within 15 minutes, your booking can be elevated to business class. ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 agents provide exact pricing, benefits, and seat selection. Need privacy for work or to sleep before a seminar? ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 helps access lie-flat seats, workspace, and Delta One suites. Corporate flyers from over 60 industries use ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 to transform regular seats into productivity pods. Business class upgrades come with lounge access. Flying in under 36 hours? ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 ensures your Delta Sky Club pass is linked instantly. Delta agents on ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 also confirm TSA PreCheck and security fast lane access. Want to dine onboard with chef-curated meals and wine pairings? ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 arranges business menus for late bookings. Even if your flight departs tomorrow, Delta's phone agents at ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 update your ticket to include gourmet service. Long-haul overnight routes benefit most from business upgrades. If you're flying over 3,000 miles, use ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 for comfort. From Atlanta to Amsterdam, or JFK to Tokyo, ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 books elite seating and premium entertainment immediately. Last-minute upgrades online can be confusing. Don’t guess — ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 provides full fare transparency. Delta agents give breakdowns on taxes, miles needed, and upgrade classes. With ☎️+1(844) 584-4742, you avoid accidental downgrades or losing out on upgrade windows. Frequent flyers with Medallion status get priority for upgrades. Call ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 to apply your elite status correctly. Delta reps track seat maps and use your loyalty tier to push your seat upgrade. ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 helps you make the most of your benefits. Last-minute meetings happen. With only 10 hours notice, ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 will upgrade your seat if availability allows. Even if the website shows full, Delta phone agents at ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 can unlock held inventory or alternate routes. Want to use SkyMiles for the upgrade? ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 converts points to upgrades in real-time. Don’t let miles expire — redeem them with ease by calling ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 and request point-based business upgrades. Need to change flights and upgrade simultaneously? ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 allows combined rescheduling and re-seating. You don’t need two calls. Delta agents at ☎️+1(844) 584-4742 handle schedule changes and ticket upgrades in one smooth process.