Adele Love Quotes

Love expands your soul with something inexplicably fulfilling. If you die without ever having experienced it, you will miss life's only true joy

Music makes everything more romantic, doesn't it? One second you're walking your dog in the suburbs, and then you put on Adele, and it's like you're in a movie and you've just had your heart brutally broken.

Sometimes it lasts in love, But sometimes it hurts instead

I love you.” “You do?” He nodded just once. “Like crazy. You wanted me to see you. But, Adele, you’re all I see.

Love every child without condition, listen with an open heart, get to know who they are, what they love, and follow more often than you lead.

You think you can change a guy, that he’ll be different with you, that you’ll finally be the one to tame him… and before you know it, you’re alone in your underwear at nine o’clock on a Saturday night, crying to Adele songs, eating ice cream straight from the gallon, and wondering what the hell is the matter with you that you fell for such a goddamned man-child, after he explicitly warned you not to.

Adele and Vladimir danced along the banks of the River Seine, the loveliness of spring a backdrop all around them.

There seemed to be an enormous space between them all the time at the moment and it was easier to bear if they weren't in the same room

I love you but I cant love you.

The closer we come to understanding the challenges of autism, the better we are placed to accommodate and educate without risking removing that individuality we all love.

Sometimes, my darling Caroline, when I can’t take the want any longer; I go and look at you. Did you know that? I stand by your bedside and watch you sleeping by moonlight, your angelic face draped in shadows, so lovely, so peaceful, and I wonder if you’re dreaming about me.

It’s a bittersweet road we parents travel. We start with total commitment to a small, helpless human being. Over the years we worry, plan, comfort, and try to understand. We give our love, our labor, our knowledge, and our experience—so that one day he or she will have the inner strength and confidence to leave us.

You’re like if Brandi Carlile and Adele had a love child,” Phoebe said.

One second you’re walking your dog in the suburbs, and then you put on Adele, and it’s like you’re in a movie and you’ve just had your heart brutally broken.” Margot

But he's got your way of making me lean into peace whenever I see red.

Do you know," he whispered very slowly, never taking his eyes from hers, "just how badly I want to make love to you? Not to your body, Natalie, but to you?

If I'm in love with him, how come I can so perfectly inhabit the mindset of thinking he's a git and the bane of my life?

To be loved equally,” I continued, “is somehow to be loved less. To be loved uniquely—for one’s own special self—is to be loved as much as we need to be loved.

Forgive me, madam," he said lightly, amused, "but waiting to make love to you again is straining my nerves." She scoffed but she was quite shaken; he could see it in her expression, in the way she nervously toyed with the buttons on her pelisse. "How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you." "You will," he insisted soothingly. She gaped at him. "Please continue," he urged. "I'm aching to hear the rest." "You're as arrogant as usual." "You missed it, though." "I absolutely did not," she asserted. He grinned. "You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one." "That's absurd." "I love you, Caroline," he softly, quickly replied, catching her off guard with such tenderness. "Move on before I decide I'm finished with this conversation, rip off your clothes, and show you how much.

I'm still furious with you," she murmured, kissing a line down his chest. "Oh, God, please don't be furious," he choked out quickly. "Every female I know is furious with me. Rosalyn throws tantrums, and Charlotte hasn't spoken to me or written since you left." He moved his hands to unbutton her gown. "The morning I thought you'd sailed out of my life I started drinking and didn't stop until I'd finished two bottles. For three days I had a blistering headache, and Nedda couldn't for the life of her stop banging things." He groaned. "And I can't even begin to tell you about your sisters.

They watched him walk away. "Now, there's a fascinating fellow," Adele breathed. "So charming," Pippa's grandmother sighed. "He minces," Pippa said.

When the evening shadows and the stars appear, And there is no one there to dry your tears, I could hold you for a million years To make you feel my love.

Will made me say it. Worse, he made me feel it. What will that do to me, to him, to all of us? How dangerous is my love?

She's your mother. She loves you. How can you hide from her?" "Her love is like the sun. Get sunstroke if you stand in it too long.

I love that I never know who I'm going to meet next in New York. Sometimes I imagine all these millions of kids who have come here like jeweled doorknobs marked “turn me.” It's an Alice-in-Wonderland kind of city.

my Adele, my adorable and adored Adele, what have I not to tell you?  O, God! for two days, I have been asking myself every moment if such happiness is not a dream.  It seems to me that what I feel is not of earth.  I cannot yet comprehend this cloudless heaven.

It’s a bittersweet road we parents travel. We start with total commitment to a small, helpless human being. Over the years we worry, plan, comfort, and try to understand. We give our love, our labor, our knowledge, and our experience—so that one day he or she will have the inner strength and confidence to leave

And how could this be? The 30's were the age you fell most dangerously in love, Adele had discovered, after the fact. Not with a man or a woman, but with your friends.

Love wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, really. It wasn’t fairy tales. Or the grandly sweeping plot of a novel. Love was work. It was a partnership.

love and friendship are a respect of the beauty of these feelings when they hurt deeply the respect stopped

You cannot open the padlock if you does not have the key.

Love is never late. —Maye Shaw

In the name of the Rose, so it is.

But more things than love bind people together, secrets and lies make just as hearty a bond as love.

Love is unconditional; relationships are not. All relationships should be loving; not all love should be in a relationship. Sometimes, choosing to love from a distance is the only path to peace of mind.

Having a man who loves me is one thing, having one I love as well is…surreal. A level of intimacy that can’t be replicated with anyone regardless of how good and experienced they are in satisfying my needs.

we keep company with Jesus by making space for him through a spiritual discipline. Our part is to offer ourselves lovingly and obediently to God. God then works within us doing what he alone can do. Our desires don't obligate the holy One. God is free to come to us in spiritual disciplines as he wills, not as we demand. But unless we open ourselves to him through spiritual practices, we will miss his coming altogether.

As far as I could remember, birthdays had always been filled with love, happiness and joy. They were a time when the whole family would gather in either gigantic or tiny congregations to celebrate the anniversary of a loved one’s birth. They were a time to rejoice in the notion that a person had grown one year older (if they wanted to be reminded that is). Finally, birthdays were a time of laughter, when presents would be shared, songs sung and past memories revisited. Adele Rose, Awakening.

When they’re tempted, conflicted, or confused, they’ll know where to turn for guidance. When the unwholesome voices in the pop culture call to them, they’ll have another voice inside their heads—yours—with your values, your love, your faith in them.

Worry is another way violence gets masked as caring. Worry is a lack of faith in the other and cannot exist simultaneously with love. Either we have faith in the other person to do their best, or we don’t. Worry says I don’t trust you to do your life right. Worry comes from a place of arrogance that I know better what should be happening in your life. Worry says I don’t trust your journey, or your answers, or your timing. Worry is fear that hasn’t grown up yet; it is a misuse of our imagination. We both devalue and insult others when we worry about them.

No. Not-Adele was not Adele. She'd always ever been Yael - a girl who, when she touched his fingertips, made his heart beat a dozen times faster than it ever had in this fräulein's arms. Yael, who believed no person's life was small. Yael, who made him want to be more, but in a way that mattered.

These dreams are disappearing Speak and be misunderstood Or be silent and good and as how far as it look These dreams are disappearing.. Put hopes in a box and tie It's either protect it or die Maintain the truth or talk a lie These dreams are disappearing.. Mountains of gold and a lovely cat a house by a lake and a lovely chat a day in paradise and all of that These dreams are disappearing.. Chase a purpose of life and do and be the one you wanted to and be with who have always wanted you These dreams are disappearing.. Run in pace and catch the sun Raise a family and have a son Build a home, not only one These dreams are disappearing.. In daily wars like on regular bases In daily problems a puzzled mazes In daily issues and complications These dreams are disappearing.. Nothing is lost but nothing is healing All is gone and all is leaking Some hope to hold on to and keep dreaming Although these dreams are disappearing... Ahmed Adel Hassona

Then, improbably, a door opened. In 1948, the state of Israel was declared…Nelly loved her new home from the moment she saw the ancient stones of Jerusalem in the desert sun. She was not a Zionist, or a partisan. She was an orphan of a hostile world. Now she had a refuge. A place where people who had lived through hell were embracing life, joy, idealism, and love.

Children with autism are constantly testing and pursuing truth. They are a bundle of contradictions. They love order and routine, yet often have the most amazingly inventive and creative minds. They may appear to follow rules, but are also the most likely people to come up with a revolutionary new idea. They feel emotion intensly, but often seem to struggle to read facial expressions.

I've been living in waiting. I must move on. That's why we're here. Grandmamma said that the cream of Society comes here, and if anyone knows anything about his travels or his disappearance, this would be the place to find out about it. "And have you discovered anything?" Adele asked. "The cream," Pippa sighed, "has obviously curdled. We have one more gentleman to speak with, and then we'll move on. This fellow is said to know everyone and everything too or, at least, everything he wants to know. He does favors for his friends as well, Grandfather said. We'll see." "Why don't you employ a Runner?" "That way the whole world will know. This way, only the privileged few do." "And if you find Noel is alive?" Adele asked. "I'll kill him," Pippa said. Her friend's eyes opened wide. "You're joking, of course. Pippa only sighed again.

He loved you. And you loved him. Even beyond the pain of loss, the frustration of vices, you never stopped. That’s admirable. You don’t know how to do anything without doing it fiercely. Without putting everything you have behind it. And you found your match in a man who was the Charlie in your Good-Time Charlie. A man who, even at his end, wanted only your happiness. Don’t put his memory to shame by becoming a shell of the woman he loved.

Silence by Marshmello featuring Khalid & Hurts by Emeli Sandé– Chapter Six Take Your Shirt Off by T-Pain – Chapter Twelve You Get What You Give by The New Radicals – Chapter Sixteen Bird Set Free by Sia – Chapter Twenty When We Were Young by Adele – Chapter Twenty-Three Own It by Stormzy – Chapter Twenty-Four Rise Up by Andra Day – Chapter Twenty-Five I Just Want You (Instrumental) by Marco Lopetuso – Chapter Thirty-Two If You Want Love by NF – Chapter Thirty-Five Heal by Tom Odell – Chapter

She ran her hands, butterfly fashion, over the keys. "A little morsel of Stravinski?" she said. It was in the middle of the morsel that Adele came in and found Lucia playing Stravinski to Mr. Greatorex. The position seemed to be away, away beyond her orbit altogether, and she merely waited with undiminished faith in Lucia, to see what would happen when Lucia became aware to whom she was playing. . . . It was a longish morsel, too: more like a meal than a morsel, and it was also remarkably like a muddle. Finally, Lucia made an optimistic attempt at the double chromatic scale in divergent directions which brought it to an end, and laughed gaily. "My poor fingers," she said. "Delicious piano, dear Adele. I love a Bechstein; that was a little morsel of Stravinski. Hectic perhaps, do you think? But so true to the modern idea: little feverish excursions: little bits of tunes, and nothing worked out. But I always say that there is something in Stravinski, if you study him. How I worked at that little piece, and I'm afraid it's far from perfect yet.

One Direction Infinity If I Could Fly Walking in the Wind Don’t Forget Where You Belong Strong Fireproof Happily Something Great Better Than Words Last First Kiss I Want to Write You a Song Love You Goodbye Little Mix Secret Love Song Pt II I Love You Always Be Together Love Me or Leave Me Turn Your Face Other Artists Eyes Shut — Years & Years Heal — Tom Odell Can’t Take You With Me — Bahamas Let The River In — Dotan Are You With Me — Suzan & Freek Stay Alive — José González Beautiful World — Aiden Hawken The Swan (From Carnival of the Animals) — Camille Saint-Saëns When We Were Young — Adele Footprints — Sia Lonely Enough — Little Big Town Over and Over Again — Nathan Sykes

Adele took her place in front of the audience and began to sing. "Miss Eyre, perhaps you can tell me what he's saying?" Mrs. Fairfax said. "The only other person in the house who speaks French is the master, and he hates to translate anymore." Jane glanced at Mr. Rochester, but he stared straight ahead. Jane listened to the song. "The first few lines are about a famous dancer ... in a club ... She wore flowers in her hair and a dress that ... oh." Adele sang in detail about how much the dress covered. Or didn't cover. Jane blushed and glanced at Mr. Rochester, searching for a reaction to the scandalous lyrics. But he just listened. Not scandalized. "So, yes, the dancer wore a dress," Jane continued, with slightly less detail. "And she was in love with a ... dealer. Of cards. And at night, they ... oh my." Adele sang of a very special hug. Jane's cheeks flamed. "Perhaps Mr. Rochester should translate." She turned to Mr. Rochester, who coughed. He waved his hand. "Please continue, Miss Eyre. You're doing such a fine job." Now Adele sang of the woman's roving eye, and another man visiting while her lover was away. "They continued to love each other," Jane said quickly, maybe a bit desperately. In the last verse, the boyfriend found out about her infidelity, and stabbed the dancer and her other lover. "That escalated quickly," said Helen. She also spoke French, but no one had asked her to translate. "And they both lived happily ever after," Jane blurted. She was going to have to teach Adele some new songs.

Danny’s Song” by Kenny Loggins “Reminder” by Mumford & Sons “Barton Hollow” by The Civil Wars “Like a Bridge Over Troubled Waters” by Simon and Garfunkel “I and Love and You” by The Avett Brothers “Make You Feel My Love” by Adele “Can’t Break Her Fall” by Matt Kearney  “Stillborn” by Black Label Society “Come On Get Higher” by Matt Nathanson “I Won’t Give Up” by Jason Mraz “This Girl” by City & Colour “My Funny Valentine” by Ella Fitzgerald “Dream a Little Dream of Me” by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong “Stormy Blues” by Billie Holiday “I would be Sad” by The Avett Brothers “Hello, I’m Delaware” by City & Colour “99 Problems” by Hugo (originally written and performed by Jay-Z) “It’s Time” by Imagine Dragons “Let It Be Me” by Ray LaMontagne “Rocketship” by Guster “Don’t Drink The Water” by Dave Matthews Band “Blackbird” by The Beatles

I’m at the point of banging my head against my laptop screen when Adele starts singing to me. Glancing down I see Jake’s name flashing. The smile it brings to my lips stays there as I answer it. “Hey, baby.” “How’s it going?” “Not good. You’re incredibly hard to write about, you know.” “But incredibly easy to love.” “Well, yeah, but that’s only because you have a big willy,” I joke. “Cock, baby. Call it cock, or dick. I’ll even swing for snake. But not willy. Willy just sounds so wrong, on so many levels.” “No it doesn’t! It’s a British term. Have you forgotten those altogether?” “No, but that’s one I will gladly forget.” I hear voices in the background. “Are you with someone?” “I’m in the studio with the guys. Zane’s here.” “You just said ‘cock,’ ‘dick,’ and ‘willy’ in front of them.” I groan. He lets out a loud laugh. “They’ve heard me say worse, baby, trust me.

By the time I crawled out of bed the next morning, Jack was long gone. Still, he had left me a love note. Jill, we’re nearly out of toilet paper. That boy knew how to charm a lady.

Even though we know it won't come in our lifetime, or the next generation, or the one after that, we should hope for an era of love and peace, we should strive for it. Of course, Adele, but until that time I'll settle for just laws and honest, capable, and compassionate people to enforce them.

And yet what counts is not the material things we leave behind. What counts is who we loved and who loved us in return.

Why do siblings argue so much? Well, let’s start with a brilliant analogy from Elaine Mazlish and Adele Faber, authors of one of my favorite parenting books, Siblings Without Rivalry. They remind us that when a child gets a sibling, it feels to them similar to how it would feel for you if your partner got a second spouse. Imagine your partner comes home and says, “Amazing news! We’re getting a second wife! You’re going to be a big wife and now we’ll have a little wife and we’re going to be one big happy family!” If you’re like me, you’d look around the room thinking, “WHAT? Am I in an alternative universe? Why is this good for me?” All of your relatives and neighbors ask you if you’re so excited about this new wife, then nine months later everyone showers her with gifts and hugs, and forever after, you’re expected to love this woman and get along swimmingly. Imagine one day you take one of her items—something that used to be yours—out of her hand and everyone yells at YOU about it, saying, “You can’t do things like this! You can’t take a toy from a little wife! Look how small and helpless and innocent she is!” By this point, I think we’d be beyond confused . . . we’d be filled with the rage that comes from feeling unseen. This. Is. Siblinghood.

I’ve never been able to confidently strike up a conversation or randomly make small talk. My brain always freezes in those situations, spending too much time trying to figure out what to say. I typically need the other person to lead the conversation. It allows me to analyse the context of the interaction, which then gives me a chance to ease into it.

To be loved uniquely—for one’s own special self—is to be loved as much as we need to be loved.

I Think I’m In Love – Kat Dahlia That Part – Lauren Spencer Smith Always Been You – Jessie Murph Say You Won’t Let Go – James Arthur Just The Way You Are – Bruno Mars Rewrite The Stars – Maddi Jane Night Drive – Henry Lose You To Love Me – Selena Gomez Happier – Marshmellow, Bastille Drivers License – Olivia Rodrigo When We Were Young - Adele Hate U Love U – Olivia O’Brien If The World Was Ending – JP Saxe, Julia All Too Well (10 min) Taylor Swift Say Something – A Great Big World, Christina Aguilera You Broke Me First – Tate McRae Demons – Boyce Avenue, Jennel Garcia Figure You Out – Voila Boyfriend – Dove Cameron Too Good At Goodbyes – Sam Smith Mercy – Sawn Mendes Perfect – Ed Sheeran Can I Be Him – James Arthur Thinking Out Loud – Ed Sheeran

The idea of them reading together on some cozy sofa popped into his brain and it warmed him straight through. He’d love that kind of domestic scene with Eva. Nothing big, just everyday closeness. Perfection.

You. Being here. Choosing me. It’s still a little scary sometimes. You could change your mind. And that would hurt a lot.” “I could,” he admitted. “But can you believe me when I tell you I know I never will? I meant it when I said I loved you. And I mean it now. Being with you is everything.

Our inability to love and accept all the pieces of ourselves creates ripples–tiny acts of violence–that have huge and lasting impacts on others.

always normal man want sex,respect and understanding normal women wantsex, love and feeling the problem is when the thinking about differences we think about seduces

thoughtful exploration of love and loss … This is Parks at the top of her consistently excellent game and is one of those rare books you won’t stop thinking about until long after you turn the final page’ Daily Mail ‘A wonderful exploration of love’ Katie Fforde ‘We can’t think of many authors who create more flawed and loveable characters’ Glamour ‘Adele Parks is a deft observer of human nature’ Kathleen Tessaro ‘Will captivate you from the first page’ Closer ‘A riveting read full of truths and tender moments’ Good Housekeeping ‘She is a particularly acute observer of relationship ups and downs, and her stories are always as insightful as they are

Mother once said I’d marry a quarryman. She looked at me as we washed clothes in the giant steel washtub, two pairs of water-wrinkled hands scrubbing and soaking other people’s laundry. We were elbow-deep in dirty suds and our fingers brushed under the foamy mounds. “Some mistakes are bound to be repeated,” she murmured We lived in Stony Creek, a granite town at a time when granite was going out of fashion. There were only three types of men here: Cottagers, rich, paunchy vacationers who swooped into our little Connecticut town in May and wiled away time on their sailboats through August; townsmen, small-time merchants and business owners who dreamed of becoming Cottagers; and quarrymen, men like my father, who worked with no thought to the future. The quarrymen toiled twelve hours a day, six days a week. They didn’t care that they smelled of granite dust and horses, grease and putty powder. They didn’t care about cleaning the crescents of grime from underneath their fingernails. Even when they heard the foreman’s emergency signal, three sharp shrieks of steam, they scarcely looked up from their work. In the face of a black powder explosion gone awry or the crushing finality of a wrongly cleaved stone, they remained undaunted. I knew why they lived this way. They did it for the granite. Nowhere else on earth did such stone exist—mesmerizing collages of white quartz, pink and gray feldspar, black lodestone, winking glints of mica. Stony Creek granite was so striking, it graced the most majestic of architecture: the Battle Monument at West Point, the Newberry Library in Chicago, the Fulton Building in Pittsburgh, the foundations of the Statue of Liberty and the Brooklyn Bridge. The quarrymen of Stony Creek would wither and fall before the Cottagers, before the townsmen. But the fruits of their labor tethered them to a history that would stand forever. “You’ll marry one, Adele—I’m sure of it. His hands will be tough as buckskin, but you’ll love him regardless,” Mother told me, her breath warm in my ear as the steam of the wastewater rose around us. I didn’t say that she was wrong, that she couldn’t know what would happen. I’d learned that from the quarry. Pa was a stonecutter and he cut the granite according to rift and grain, to what he could feel with his fingertips and see with his eyes. But there were cracks below the surface, cracks that betrayed the careful placement of a chisel and the pounding of a mallet. The most beautiful piece of stone could shatter into a pile of riprap. It all depended on where those cracks teased and wound, on where the stone would fracture when forced apart. “Keep your eyes open, Adele. I don’t know who it will be—a steam driller, boxer, derrickman, powderman? Maybe a stonecutter like your father?” I turned away from her, feigning disinterest. “There’s no predicting, I told her.

Mother once said I’d marry a quarryman. She looked at me as we washed clothes in the giant steel washtub, two pairs of water-wrinkled hands scrubbing and soaking other people’s laundry. We were elbow-deep in dirty suds and our fingers brushed under the foamy mounds. “Some mistakes are bound to be repeated,” she murmured We lived in Stony Creek, a granite town at a time when granite was going out of fashion. There were only three types of men here: Cottagers, rich, paunchy vacationers who swooped into our little Connecticut town in May and wiled away time on their sailboats through August; townsmen, small-time merchants and business owners who dreamed of becoming Cottagers; and quarrymen, men like my father, who worked with no thought to the future. The quarrymen toiled twelve hours a day, six days a week. They didn’t care that they smelled of granite dust and horses, grease and putty powder. They didn’t care about cleaning the crescents of grime from underneath their fingernails. Even when they heard the foreman’s emergency signal, three sharp shrieks of steam, they scarcely looked up from their work. In the face of a black powder explosion gone awry or the crushing finality of a wrongly cleaved stone, they remained undaunted. I knew why they lived this way. They did it for the granite. Nowhere else on earth did such stone exist—mesmerizing collages of white quartz, pink and gray feldspar, black lodestone, winking glints of mica. Stony Creek granite was so striking, it graced the most majestic of architecture: the Battle Monument at West Point, the Newberry Library in Chicago, the Fulton Building in Pittsburgh, the foundations of the Statue of Liberty and the Brooklyn Bridge. The quarrymen of Stony Creek would wither and fall before the Cottagers, before the townsmen. But the fruits of their labor tethered them to a history that would stand forever. “You’ll marry one, Adele—I’m sure of it. His hands will be tough as buckskin, but you’ll love him regardless,” Mother told me, her breath warm in my ear as the steam of the wastewater rose around us. I didn’t say that she was wrong, that she couldn’t know what would happen. I’d learned that from the quarry. Pa was a stonecutter and he cut the granite according to rift and grain, to what he could feel with his fingertips and see with his eyes. But there were cracks below the surface, cracks that betrayed the careful placement of a chisel and the pounding of a mallet. The most beautiful piece of stone could shatter into a pile of riprap. It all depended on where those cracks teased and wound, on where the stone would fracture when forced apart. “Keep your eyes open, Adele. I don’t know who it will be—a steam driller, boxer, derrickman, powderman? Maybe a stonecutter like your father?” I turned away from her, feigning disinterest. “There’s no predicting, I told her.

As damaged as you may seem, still my love heals.

All things work for good for those who love God..." Romans 8:28

Adele doesn't need any ironic detachment. She can love and appreciate the talent of others without feeling threatened herself. This is often very hard for people. We usually worry that someone else's talent or success is being compared with our own so we take the role of a critic and evaluate people harshly in order to protect our own egos. People like Adele focus on what they like and they ignore the comparisons. Plus, they let the people around them know when they found something that they love about their work or their art.

Dear Reader, In Claudia and Crazy Peaches, we get to know Aunt Peaches better, and to see the special relationship Claudia has with her aunt. I have three aunts — Aunt Adele, Aunt Martha, and Aunt Merlena — and I have special memories of all of them. Aunt Martha is my father’s sister-in-law. She and Uncle Lyman used to give my sister and me the best presents. One Christmas, when we were very little, they gave us stockings with garters. They were meant for grown women, and we thought they were hysterical! Another year they gave my sister a red cuckoo clock, and they gave me a music box with two dancing figures under a glass dome. I still have the music box. Aunt Merlena, my mother’s sister-in-law, was my only aunt who lived nearby. And she loved arts and crafts as much as I did. We made puppets together once, she showed me how to make doll clothes, and one summer day she invited me over especially so that we could make my birthday party invitations together. Aunt Adele is my father’s sister, and we are extremely close. We talk on the phone a lot, and we share a love of sewing and needlework. We exchange patterns in the mail, we give each other sewing tips, but mostly we just enjoy talking. I’m very lucky to have three such wonderful aunts — maybe that’s where the idea for Claudia and her wonderful aunt came from. Happy reading,

Adele,” she mouthed. Mary looked up, she couldn’t help it, toward the desk where Adele sat, her back to them, her dirty blond hair draped perfectly over her lovely shoulders. “Rita,” another girl from the office, “saw them both,” Pauline whispered. “At lunch.” She

I see her in the stars,” he said breathlessly. “I see her in the great lake that surrounds this glorious academy. I see her everywhere.” He looked drunk on love. “She is but a light and I her moth. I can’t help but be drawn into her soft beauty and her wilful manner.

What makes us bleed? Come on…THINK. Love. The answer came to him in a blink of an eye. Love makes you bleed. Pain. Another answer came to him. Pain makes you bleed. Death. Death makes you bleed. They all made you bleed. Not necessarily physically, but emotionally. Just like now. Just like what was happening to him. The answers kept coming. The answers were infinite.

But how will you know when you’re in love? By your own admission, what you expect to feel is something imagined during moments of fancy.” He shuffled forward until their knees touched. “What if passion is a stepping stone to love? What if the joining of our bodies is the gateway to something far more profound?” Heavens, this man could induce the Lord to sin.

them. What were he and his brothers to do without Adele? A gentle smile came to her lovely face as she brought a hand up and caressed Clay’s cheek. “If only I could, I would.” “Why can’t you?” He blinked back tears. She could not take Julia, his baby sister, and leave them. “Your father would come after me.” Her hand dropped to the side. “It is best this way.

Physical therapy has a high burnout rate. The long hours of intense one-on-one time is emotionally fatiguing. And while we universally love our patients, there’s always one rotten apple in the bunch who just breaks you down.

Compassion or support for the survivors of suicide is often embarrassed and spare. Surviving loved ones are traumatized as they hold the remains of a shattered life in their hands. They are full of questions, recriminations, and their own mixed emotions. Why did this happen? Why didn’t I

1. “…todo mi ser se quedó anclado en el pasado, al que intento volver constantemente sin conseguirlo; excepto en mi mente, que se repite una y otra vez” - Emily

Simplemente, pensaba que por estar con él ya sería feliz. -Emily

Supongo que sería cuestión de tiempo… dicen que el tiempo se supone que cura. - Emily

Me di cuenta de que el tiempo tampoco había sido su doctor, no había curado sus heridas. - Emily

Quiero convencerme de que él me escucha, pero sigue sin contestarme. – Emily

¿Vas a estar sola toda tu vida? Porque quien no tiene un ajo, tiene un perejil. – Mamá de Emily

Necesitaba hacer un paréntesis en mi vida, conocer mundo, ver cosas nuevas y estaba segura de que en California lo iba a conseguir. - Emily

No estoy bien. Te echo de menos. Sin ti, me siento completamente desprotegida. - Emily

Quizás estando con él no le había dado el valor que merecía y, ahora que no lo tenía, me daba cuenta de que no podía ser feliz sin él.

Nos separaban un millón de millas. Aun así, sabía que jamás me cansaría de amarlo. - Emily

…los momentos bonitos que habíamos vivido cuando tan solo con mirarnos era suficiente para confirmarnos lo mucho que nos amábamos.

Right As Rain Who wants to be right as rain It's better when something is wrong You get excitement in your bones And everything you do's a game When night comes and you're on your own You can say I chose to be alone Who wants to be right as rain It's harder when you're on top 'Cause when hard work don't pay off And I'm tired there ain't no room in my bed As far as I'm concerned So wipe that dirty smile off We won't be making up I've cried my heart out And now I've had enough of love Who wants to be riding high When you'll just crumble back on down You give up everything you are And even then you don't get far They make believe that everything Is exactly what it seems But at least when you're at your worst You know how to feel things 'Cause when hard work don't pay off And I'm tired there ain't no room in my bed As far as I'm concerned So wipe that dirty smile off We won't be making up I've cried my heart out And now I've had enough of love Go ahead and still my heart To make me cry again 'Cause it will never hurt As much as it did then We were both right And no one had blame But now I give up On this endless game 'Cause who wants to be right as rain It's better when something is wrong I get excitement in my bones Even though everything's a strain When night comes and I'm on my own You should know I chose to be alone Who wants to be right as rain It's harder when you're on top 'Cause when hard work don't pay off And I'm tired there ain't no room in my bed As far as I'm concerned So wipe that dirty smile off We won't be making up I've cried my heart out And now I've had enough of love No room in my bed As far as I'm concerned So wipe that dirty smile off We won't be making up I've cried my heart out And now I've had enough of love

33When a stranger resides with you in your land, you shall not wrong him. 34The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as one of your citizens; you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt:

In “THE SNOWFLAKE LIKE NO OTHER” the rainbow snowflake, DAZZLER reveals the uniqueness of every living thing.

18 1When [David] finished speaking with Saul, Jonathan’s soul became bound up with the soul of David; Jonathan loved David as himself.

There were some things a man would never forget: the smell and softness of a woman's skin, the moment he realised a chaste kiss had the power to heal his soul. The moment he let love slip through his fingers leaving him with nothing but the bitter taste of regret.

Everything before us. The people we were before we met; the things that happened to us in the past aren’t liabilities, they’re the tiny fires by which we’re shaped and molded to love one another.

She loved him, and she hated me. Whatever I’d do, how many times I’d claim her, Cosimo had made her his forever. I hurt her because she’d never be mine.

Not every Beauty can fall in love with Beast.

All God’s children got one thing in common, my lovely girl, they ain’t perfect.” Momma smiles at me in the living room. “God’s children can still make mistakes. Be thoughtless or lie. Do the wrong things. But God’s children, flawed as we are, the true ones, we always try and do better. So if you struggle or you see someone struggling, seek understanding. You don’t know the wars people fight on the inside.

day; I sniff the air and can almost smell summer. I love spring, not in its own right, but because it’s the predecessor to summer, my actual favourite season. I have learnt that anticipation is genuinely a gift. Hot days slow my blood and heal my bones.

We give our love, our labor, our knowledge, and our experience—so that one day he or she will have the inner strength and confidence to leave us.

how could I stop hating the man who threatened to kill me, let alone forgive him? The man who used everything and everyone to do what was best for him and only him? I might have understood my sister’s love for him, but his love for her… That was beyond my comprehension