Adjusting Your Crown Quotes

Pick that chin up and adjust your crown, Queen! Life has its disappointments and challenges, but you’ve got faith, strength, perseverance, and resilience inside your DNA. You’ll get through this! Be encouraged, and in spite of what you’re going through, BELIEVE.

You can't defend the sisterhood one day and tear her down the next. That's like adjusting her crown so you can knock it off.

The pictorial paper kept to its word and printed a piece on “Nurseries for Women Workers” and included the photograph Bunty had taken of Anne bending down to adjust Ruby’s crown. Bunts had captured the moment when Anne was caring for her little girl while still pushing Tony in his pram. You could clearly see the sign saying MY MUMMY WANTS TO HELP WIN THE WAR.

Visions flood in as I watch her chest rise and fall . . . the second our eyes locked in my backyard, the flash of surety I initially dismissed but still rang true through every fiber of my being. She knows you. The long looks we shared across every space, to the minute we snapped on that float before we collided and were created. The same continuous buzz thrumming steadily as we stole glances of each other between the flip of pages as storms raged outside my window. Her fingers tracing my skin, wonder in her eyes, to running my palm reverently over her back—in awe of the heart that beat inside of her, wrapped in her mystery. To the burst of sun that lit her up in my passenger seat as she adjusted her honeysuckle crown. The laughter spilling from us where she lay beneath me, tangled in the sheets before our smiles faded. Hearts raw and aching as we locked together, lost in our connection, chests bouncing in unison due to the tie that bound us. That still binds us. A fate we created together. A story I’ll continue to relive without regret. Falling for her was worth hitting bottom—and every single ache that comes with it. Reaching out, I trace the curve of her cheek. “You gutted me, baby,” I croak in confession as my chest caves. “But I can’t say I don’t deserve it . . .” I falter, grunting through the pain consuming me. “You thrive on love, and I . . . we fucking starved your heart . . . we just left you here.

He pointed at my tiara. “Why are you wearing a crown?” I adjusted my freshly bedazzled head gear. “It’s a tiara and it’s part of the uniform when you’re the Pie Princess.” “And it doesn’t bother you to wear it?” He pushed his glasses up on his nose, framing his coffee-colored eyes. “Are you kidding? It feels like the accessory that’s been missing from my wardrobe all my life.” I struck a pose. “Admit it. You think I look awesome.” He chuckled and shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “You always look good, but that tiara is ridiculous.

What is at stake at the present great turning point? An individualistic worldview is being replaced by a socialistic one! A thousand-year-old attitude toward life is being thrust aside by completely new concepts. “Such a change cannot be decreed by legislation! Nor can it be brought about by a ministry, no matter how homogeneously it is put together and how saturated and filled it is with the new ideas. “Such a transformation requires an inner conversion! A mental, a spiritual, an ethical, even a religious one! … “It is such a far-reaching and complete conversion that the adult is no longer capable of it. Only youth can be converted, newly aligned and adjusted to the socialist sense of obligation toward the community… “…when you observe the enthusiasm of youth, when the cheerful hands of an innocent child reach for you, then you will sense the inner conversion; then you will realize that a new faith is awakening out of the lethargy of a corrupt epoch and taking to the march — the faith in divine justice, in heavenly truth; the faith in an unworldly, paradisiacal future, where the lust for power, force, and enmity gives way to equality and fraternity, the spirit of sacrifice, love and loyalty, and the will to stand before the throne of the Almighty with the open heart of one ready to believe in God. And they [the youth] will have sufficient greatness to stammer out the prayer for their brothers and fathers, ‘Forgive them, Lord, for they knew not what they did.’ “It is on this basis alone that the new world can be built! To lay this groundwork is our task. Our own hopes can aim no further. We must leave some things to be done by those who come after us. Your work will be a signpost for the future, a witness to our great intention, but in our time it will not be crowned with realization.” He fell silent. His inner enthusiasm had driven the blood into his cheeks. His eyes glowed like bright lights. I thought of Strasser, of our plans. And I felt: Our thinking is so puny.

For all the “unlikeable” heroines out there. If you were a man, they’d call you assertive instead of bitchy. So hold your head high, adjust your crown, and keep it up, queen.

Our countries have pushed each other to the brink of destruction,” she continued, walking to gaze out a window at the conflagration, and I followed. “We have both lost much, but for enduring peace, we must each gain a victory.” She assessed me, her eyes calculating. “I did not misjudge you, back when you were living in exile in that cave. We can work together, but Hytanica must make certain concessions.” “Then state your demands.” “You already know we desire crops, tools, seed, planting and irrigation knowledge. I am willing to trade for those things--jewels, precious metals and advancements we have that you have yet to discover. I have other concerns, however. The first is perhaps the most significant. Will your kingdom recognize you as its ruler or will it clamor for a King?” Her question took me aback, but I knew better than to be insulted. She was well aware of the history of my kingdom and was well informed as to the unsettled state of provincial rule. “Yes, they will,” I asserted, making steady eye contact. “Over the past six months, the citizens have been adjusting to me in that role. I have dealt with their concerns, eased their pain, guided the rebuilding of our city, reestablished foreign trade and reinstated some of our traditions, such as the Harvest Festival. And I am their Queen, duly crowned and with the right by blood to the throne. I can also assure you that no one will be crowned King, for Narian is the man to whom I will bind myself. But just as it is here in Cokyri, I will not head the military.” “And the men--Cannan, London, Steldor, the others--you can control them?” “No,” I answered honestly. “Nor would I want to. But they will not go behind my back. Neither will they flout me. We learned to work with one another and trust each other when we were in exile. I will always seek their advice, but I will be the one making the decisions.” “Very well, then. Peace may well be possible.

At my flat stare, Raihn laughed. “My, how you’ve adjusted to royal life, Your Highness.” “Fuck you,” I muttered.

Our bodies may take months to travel between worlds, but our disputes and arguments take seconds or minutes. As long as everybody agrees to abide by my arbitration, physical enforcement can wait until they’re close enough to touch. And everybody does agree that my legal framework is easier to comply with, better adjusted to trans-Jovian space, than any earthbound one.” A note of steel creeps into her voice, challenging. Her halo brightens, tickling a reactive glow from the walls of the throne room. Five billion inputs or more, Sadeq marvels. The crown is an engineering marvel, even though most of its mass is buried in the walls and floor of this huge construct. “There is law revealed by the Prophet, peace be unto him, and there is law that we can establish by analyzing his intentions. There are other forms of law by which humans live, and various interpretations of the law of God even among those who study His works. How, in the absence of the word of the Prophet, can you provide a moral compass?” “Hmm.” She taps her fingers on the arm of her throne, and Sadeq’s heart freezes. He’s heard the stories from the claim jumpers and boardroom bandits, from the greenmail experts with their roots in the earthbound jurisdictions that have made such a hash of arbitration here. How she can experience a year in a minute, rip your memories out through your cortical implants, and make you relive your worst mistakes in her nightmarishly powerful simulation space. She is the queen—the first individual to get her hands on so much mass and energy that she could pull ahead of the curve of binding technology, and the first to set up her own jurisdiction and rule certain experiments to be legal so that she could make use of the mass/energy intersection. She has force majeure—even the Pentagon’s infowarriors respect the Ring Imperium’s autonomy for now. In fact, the body sitting in the throne opposite him probably contains only a fraction of her identity. She’s by no means the first upload or partial, but she’s the first gust front of the storm of power that will arrive when the arrogant ones achieve their goal of dismantling the planets and turning dumb and uninhabited mass into brainpower throughout the observable reaches of the universe. And he’s just questioned the rectitude of her vision, in her presence.

So what was I getting at? We all have limitations of some kind or another. They differ. Life requires us to learn to deal with limitations. Adjusting expectations, accommodating limitations, and searching for creative solutions can enable reaching goals in a different way. Advice for myself and other older hikers: Don't try to be younger, stronger hikers. They have their own set of limitations. Yours are different. Discover how to adapt new methods to accomplish your goals. Take more days; arrange more food drops, even walk more miles if necessary. Adapting to limitations is an ongoing life lesson as our limitations change.

My, how you’ve adjusted to royal life, Your Highness.” “Fuck you.