Aggie Quotes

Give me an Army of West Point graduates and I'll win a battle... Give me a handful of Texas Aggies and I'll win a war.

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt,” Aggie said. “And then it’s hilarious,” Eric said.

What's wrong, Eric? Aggie asked. "He got his period,"Trey said.

I’ve got you baby,” she whispered. The pain inside was unbearable – worse than anything in his experience. He couldn’t breathe. “It hurts,” he gasped. “God, it hurts. Mercy,” he begged her, rubbing his face against her belly. “Mercy, Aggie. Mercy.

I’m your best buddy, and you don’t want me to die from a giant case of blue balls?” “I don’t think that’s fatal,” Aggie said. “Have you ever had blue balls?” Eric asked. She grinned and flipped her gaze to the ceiling. “Well…” “They’re not just for Smurfs.

Everything here at St. Aggie's is upside down and inside out. It's our job not to get moon blinked and to stand right side up in an upside down world. If we don't do that we'll never be able to escape. We'll never be able to think. And thinking is the only way we'll be able to plan an escape." -Gylfie

Hush little owl, You're with Twi. I got the moves to get you by. Big bad crows. St. Aggie's scamps Ain't got nothin to show the champ. I'll pop a spiral With a twist, Do a three-sixty And scatter mist----

To find one's special quality One must lead a life of deep humility. To serve in this way Never question but obey Is the blessing of St Aggie's charity. - The owls of St. Aegolius

as Aggie reminded her this morning–being brave doesn’t have to mean she changes everything all at once.

...she kept hoping Mulder and Scully would kiss each other well and good. Having a relationship vicariously through fantasy and excellent scripting was all Aggie had at the moment - and to be honest, it wasn't all that bad. Her imagination was always better than reality...

Well, I think her exact words were, ‘Luke, sometimes I don’t wike you vewy much,’ so I just told her that I’d always love her very much.” ~Luke Sullivan

It dawned upon everybody that Aggie, at perhaps a hundred and sixty pounds and five feet nine and a half, was, as Beth later said, 'dynamite in the physical culture department.

And I suppose I might have grown up better, might have become a proper house girl or even taken Aunt Aggie's place as House Negro. I might have been a good girl if it had been in the cards. But all of that was dashed to hell two days after I was born, when the dead rose up and started to walk on a battlefield in a small town in Pennsylvania called Gettysburg.

They say forgiveness is giving up hope on having had a better past. I'm ready. I want to let it all go, I'm just not sure how to do it.

You look like a cat beat your ass as comeuppance for everything dogs have done to them.

Aggi berjalan pulang sendiri menuju tempat parkir. Saat melaju, kendaraannya terasa lebih ringan. Satu helmnya menggantung kesepian di setang motor.

Being a human is messy, Jane, Aggie told her the other day. No amount of rules can fix that. Sometimes you just need to let yourself feel something, even if it's ugly.

Just because something is hard doesn't mean we should give up. Sometimes the hardest things are the very best things.~Aggie

We are at that age where men get sexier, and women get Botox.

I’ll have to build a widow’s walk,” she said, and then she looked at Aggie and smiled so Aggie knew that she could smile, too, that the rest of their lives wouldn’t be all sadness and loss.

This was her life. Colorful and simple. Comfortable and predictable. She'd woven herself into the fabric of the town, serving and loving the townsfolk and making a life for herself in Penance. ~Aggie

Forgiveness is not a luxury but a necessity. Forgiveness is the backbone of love. And love makes life bearable

Perhaps I am not so hard to like, Jane thinks fiercely as she meets Aggie’s eyes. Perhaps I am not so peculiar, so awkward, so difficult. Perhaps he was wrong about all that, too. “Good, eh?” Aggie says. “Yes,” Jane says, and she smiles. To her immense surprise, she’s happy. It’s one of those feelings, happiness. One of the ones you don’t really notice is gone until it comes back.

Symmetry reigns here, and I am askew.

Dengan gerakan pelan telapak tangan Timur merangkul telapak tangan Aggi. Berdiri begitu rapat. Tanpa kentara, Aggi balas menggenggam telapak tangan kokoh laki-laki itu.

Laki-laki selai kacang, laki-laki permen karet stroberi, laki-laki stroberi varian flamboyan. Lalu, apa jenis stroberi untukku, Aggi?

He, Aggi,” panggil Timur. Aggi berhenti dan menoleh. “Apa kamu akan merindukan aku?” “Tidak tahu. Akan kuberi tahu kamu nanti.

It was now to Aggie as if they were all dead and in the blessed world together, only she had brought with her an ache which it would need time to tune. All pain is discord.

Life is not a cruel joke. There's purpose to it. I believe it. Even the pain has purpose. And there's joy to be had."~Hannah (Aggie's best friend)

This is your fear,” Aggie said to me, her voice like the breath of the cave, slow and low. “Being chained. But you are skinwalker. You cannot be chained.

You said back then that you were sorry you’d ever met him and that you’d never forgive him for introducing us.” “I know,” Aggie said. “But I thought he would always be there, waiting to be forgiven.

Simon decidió salvar la situación. -James, hoy vamos a repasar cada momento de la noche en la que te capturaron. Al parecer, el desayuno dejó de interesarle a su amigo, porque James colocó su tenedor lentamente dobre la mesa. -Tenía la impresión de que ya lo habíamos hecho. -No como vamos a hacerlo hoy. Agatha asintió. -Muy bien. Yo también quiero oírlo. James se ruborizó de la manera más sorprendente. -¡Aggie! Hubo algunos detalles muy importantes ese día. Cosas que tú no deberías oír. -Oh, ¿Te refieres al hecho de que pasaste seis horas con tu amante esa noche? Por Dios, James, ¿Qué demonios hiciste durante seis horas enteras? A mí me consta que para eso se tarda muchísimo menos. ¿No es cierto, Simon? Simon se atragantó con el último bocado que se había llevado a la boca. Esta vez le tocaba a él ruborizarse y evitar la mirada atónita de James.

Mab brought the letter to her evening shift, reading it at the checking machine as she waited for Aggie to halt. She read it three times, then she put it away, hands trembling. Francis didn’t even have to be in the same bed, or the same room, or the same city to give her that feeling of being unshelled, naked as a chick peeled from its egg. She wanted to cry and she wanted to smile, she wanted to dance and she wanted to blush.

But Auntie Aggie said that Rachel couldn’t help the way she was, that she’d had a hard life before she came to Rose Hill, and the only way she knew how to act was a vicious kind of way. “Surviving can make people right mean,” Auntie Aggie told me.

One of Aggie, mum & I's favourite poems, it turns out. / You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

We are surrounded by such men, who committed these acts in their youth and never paid any price. They’ve grown up, married, become fathers, bosses. They’re behind us in the line at Starbucks, lifting a beer at the neighborhood barbecue, in the cubicle next to ours at work.

Her will also states that if one person dares to contest the will, fight its legality, that person will be deprived of any inheritance other than

Aggi mengambil gambar dari hidangan di atas meja; makaroni stroberi, segelas es teh, dan semangkuk buah stroberi segar. Kini dia mendongak. Beralih mencari subjek gambar yang lain. Saat cincin fokus diputar dan patahan gambar menjadi satu, Timur menoleh. Aggi tidak menurunkan kamera. Terus mengintip dari jendela bidik. Timur menggerakkan bibir. Berkata tanpa suara. “Je ... tu ... aime.

Aggie pondered the stories of her mother, about the creatures that her African grandmother had told Kiné of, in a courtyard, long ago. Were there truly supernatural monsters stalking the water? Or were these monsters only white men who walked on two legs, abominations but not strangers? Only dangerous because they were familiar—in one’s home, in one’s temple, on the dirt of natal land?

Aku menyebut Thomas laki-laki selai kacang.” “Bagaimana bisa?” “Dia tidak suka stroberi. Dia suka selai kacang. Kamu tahu bagaimana pendapatku mengenai selai kacang?” Timur menggeleng. “Huwek!” Aggi mengernyitkan kening dan mengerutkan ujung hidung. Lalu, dia merendahkan nada suara. “Et alors, les fraises est trop infantile! Je ne l’aime pas! [Jadi, stroberi itu terlalu kekanak-kanakan! Aku tidak suka!]

Before I laid down in this bed, I set rules. I was to stay on my side, and she was to stay on hers, and now I'm wrapped around her like ivy would cling to stone-cuddling like some domesticated animal. Worse yet, I want to stay like this, intertwined with her, I just don't trust myself to do so. Not when my dragon is hovering just below the surface, pushing me, egging me on, dumping liquid lust into my godsdamn veins by the bucket full.

I spent the first hour of the party wandering around, trying to slip into other women’s conversations, feeling like a moth who keeps banging her head onto the glass, a creature too dumb to know she’s outside and is never getting in.

Back when her name had been “Beauty,” Aggie’s grandmother had told her men were stronger than women, save one exception: women’s times of bleeding. Helen had said in the moon house women bled and watched the fire. They talked together. They sang together and told stories. To men, this place was a curse. Blood was a curse. A smelly stain on the thighs of the weak. Yet women knew the power of dark jewels. That the moon house was not for the cursed and the weak but for the strong and the blessed.

This little colloquy in Adele's box was really the foundation of the secret society of the Luciaphils, and the membership of the Luciaphils began swiftly to increase. Aggie Sandeman was scarcely eligible, for complete goodwill towards Lucia was a sine qua non of membership, and there was in her mind a certain asperity when she thought that it was she who had given Lucia her gambit, and that already she was beginning to be relegated to second circles in Lucia's scale of social precedence. It was true that she had been asked to dine to meet Marcelle Periscope, but the party to meet Alf and his flute was clearly the smarter of the two. Adele, however, and Tony Limpsfield were real members, so too, when she came up a few days later, was Olga. Marcia Whitby was another who greedily followed her career, and such as these, whenever they met, gave eager news to each other about it. There was, of course, another camp, consisting of those whom Lucia bombarded with pleasant invitations, but who (at present) firmly refused them. They professed not to know her and not to take the slightest interest in her, which showed, as Adele said, a deplorable narrowness of mind. Types and striking characters like Lucia, who pursued undaunted and indefatigable their aim in life, were rare, and when they occurred should be studied with reverent affection... Sometimes one of the old and original members of the Luciaphils discovered others, and if when Lucia's name was mentioned an eager and a kindly light shone in their eyes, and they said in a hushed whisper "Did you hear who was there on Thursday?" they thus disclosed themselves as Luciaphils... All this was gradual, but the movement went steadily on, keeping pace with her astonishing career, for the days were few on which some gratifying achievement was not recorded in the veracious columns of Hermione.

Trip Advisor: Travel America with Haiku [Texas] Grackles roosting, sentinels on miles of phone line. Don't Mess with Texas. Austin rush hour, "Go down Mopac. You don't wanna mess with I-35." Athens, Texas, Blackeyed Pea Capital of the World. Yup, just another shithole. Killeen, Texas, Kill City, Boyz from Fort Hood. Spending every paycheck. Texas A&M;, Aggies football, the wired 12th man. Too lazy to plant in the Spring. Fredericksburg, Texas. Polka Capital of Texas but I could swear I saw Hitler there. Ft. Worth, Texas, Where the West Begins and a great place to leave. San Antonio, Texas, Fiesta! Alamo City! Northstar Mall! I've been to better tourist traps. Dallas, Texas, D-Town, City of Hate. Don't miss the Galleria. Lubbock, Texas, Oil wells, Hub of the Plains. Stinks like an armpit. Waco, Texas, The Buckle of the Bible Belt. Lossen it up a notch. Neck dragon tattoo, piercings, purple haired kindergarten teacher. Keep Austin weird.

The prof would come over all sniffy." Spoo nodded at Professor Tunstell, who was attempting to assist an elderly matron to climb up onto Bob, without anyone noticing he was being nice. "He'd say a wood louse is an intransigent terrestrial isopod crustacean inclined to consume deceased flora." Arsenic didn't really know Professor Tunstell that well and yet, "That seems like something he'd say." "Well, it's also an accurate description of The Spotted Custard's sainted head greaser, Miss Aggie Phinkerlington. Only imagine the deceased flora is basically all human joy." "Really?" "Oh yes. She's upset with me and Lady Captain, most of the time.' "Why?" "Presumably because we continue to exist and she'd prefer we didn't." Arsenic gave the greaser an assessing look. "She looks like she has indigestion. " Arsenic wondered if the woman's mean spirit was the result of severe dyspepsia. Perhaps there was a medicinal solution to her ill-temper? "That's the human joy she keeps swallowing. Disagrees with her.

Aggie taught Jane to make Moroccan lamb meatballs and said bad things about people who used died ginger and that sangria was really a lower class sort of drink, and it was just like old times. Well, almost like old times, except that now Jane was the one that Aggie contacted, not Duncan. Jane was the one she texted when she had surplus tomatoes or homemade jam. Jane was the one Aggie asked for help when her washing machine went berserk and shimmied its way half out of her laundry room, although in that case all Jane did was dispatch Duncan. Jane was the one Aggie asked for advice on her bathroom tiles and then rejected the color Jane chose. "She does that", Duncan said. "She asks you your opinion when she already has her mind made up. Drives me crazy. Jane was the one Aggie called when Gary began having dizzy spells and blurred vision, and Aggie thought he might be having a stroke. Although it turned out that he was just wearing the wrong eyeglasses having accidentally picked up someone else's at the office.

A rattle of dishes warned of a servant’s entry into the hall, but Christopher was incensed, and half turning with a growl, he gestured Paine back. “Get out of here, man!” “Christopher!” Erienne gasped and took two halting steps to follow the befuddled servant, but Christopher came around to face her with a glare. “Stay where you are, madam! I am not finished with you.” “You have no right to give orders here,” she protested, her own ire growing. “This is my husband’s house!” “I’ll give orders when and where I damn well please, and for once, you will stand and listen until I’m through!” More than a trifle outraged herself, Erienne hurled back her answer. “You may command the men on your ship to your will, Mister Seton, but you have no such authority here! Good day to you!” Catching up her skirts, she whirled and stalked toward the tower until she heard the sound of rapid footsteps coming behind her, then a sudden panic seized her that he would make such a scene that she would not be able to face the servants… or her husband. She raced into the entry, stepping over the puddle, and took to the stairs, forcing every bit of strength she could into her limbs. She had barely gained the fourth step when she heard sliding feet, a loud thump, and then a painful grunt followed by an angry curse. When she whirled, Christopher was just coming to rest in a heap against the wall after sliding across the floor, partway on his back. For a moment she stared aghast at the dignified man sprawled in a most undignified manner, but when he raised his head to look at her with barely contained rage, she was struck by the humor of it all. Bubbling laughter broke forth, winning from him a dark scowl of exasperation. “Are you hurt, Christopher?” she asked sweetly. “Aye! My pride has been mightily bruised!” “Oh, that will mend, sir,” she chuckled, spreading her skirts to perch primly on the step above him. Her eyes danced with a lively light that was simply dazzling to behold. “But you should take care. If such a modest spot of water can bring you down so abruptly, I would not advise sailing beyond these shores.” “ ’Tis not a spot of water that’s brought me down, but a waspish wench who sets her barbs against me at every turn.” “You dare accuse me when you come in here huffing and snorting like a raging bull?” She gave a throaty, skeptical laugh. “Really, Christopher, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You frightened Paine and nearly made me swallow my heart.” “That’s an impossibility, madam, for that thing is surely made of cold, hard steel.” “You’re pouting,” she chided flippantly, “because I have not fallen swooning at your feet.” “I’m angry because you continually deny the fact that you should be my wife!” he stated emphatically. Footsteps on the stairs behind Erienne made them glance up. Aggie came nonchalantly down the steps, seeming unaware of Christopher’s storm-dark frown. Excusing herself, she stepped past her mistress. Finally, on reaching level footing, she contemplated the man, a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “Aren’t ye a wee bit old ter be takin’ yer leisure on the floor, sir?” He raised a brow at Erienne as that one smothered a giggle, and with a snort, got to his feet and brushed off his breeches and coatsleeve. -Christopher, Erienne, and Aggie

Do you know how to play?” I asked. Hannah gave me one of her vexed looks. “Goodness, Andrew, if it weren’t for me you wouldn’t know the first thing about marbles. Your brain is a regular sieve these days.” I tapped my forehead to remind her I’d been sick. She looked so contrite I felt guilty. “Will you teach me all over again?” Hannah poured her marbles onto the quilt and sighed. Without raising her eyes, she said, “Girls my age are supposed to be ladies, but sometimes I get mighty tired of trying to be what I’m not.” Cradling an aggie almost as shiny as Andrew’s red bull’s-eye, she cocked her head, studied her targets, and shot. The aggie hit a glass marble and sent it spinning off the bed. Hannah grinned and tried again. When all the marbles except the aggie were scattered on the floor, Hannah seized my chin and tipped my face up to hers. Looking me in the eye, she said, “If you promise not to tell a soul, I’ll give you as many lessons as you want. No matter what Papa thinks, I’d rather play marbles than be a lady, and that’s the truth.” “Ringer,” I said sleepily. “Do you know how to play ringer?” Hannah ruffled my hair. “You must be pulling my leg, Andrew. That’s what we always play. It’s your favorite game.” I yawned. “Starting tomorrow, we’ll practice every day till I get even better than I used to be.” “When I’m finished with you, you’ll be the all-time marble champion of Missouri.

I built, of blocks, a town three hundred thousand strong, whose avenues were paved with a wine-colored rug and decorated by large leaves outlined inappropriately in orange, and on this leafage I'd often park my Tootsie Toy trucks, as if on pads of camouflage, waiting their deployment against catastrophes which included alien invasions, internal treachery, and world war. It was always my intention, and my conceit, to use up, in the town's construction, every toy I possessed: my electronic train, of course, the Lincoln Logs, old kindergarten blocks—their deeply incised letters always a problem—the Erector set, every lead soldier that would stand (broken ones were sent to the hospital), my impressive array of cars, motorcycles, tanks, and trucks—some with trailers, some transporting gas, some tows, some dumps—and my squadrons of planes, my fleet of ships, my big and little guns, an undersized group of parachute people (looking as if one should always imagine them high in the sky, hanging from threads), my silversided submarines, along with assorted RR signs, poles bearing flags, prefab houses with faces pasted in their windows, small boxes of a dozen variously useful kinds, strips of blue cloth for streams and rivers, and glass jars for town water towers, or, in a pinch, jails. In time, the armies, the citizens, even the streets would divide: loyalties, friendships, certainties, would be undermined, the city would be shaken by strife; and marbles would rain down from formerly friendly planes, steeples would topple onto cars, and shellfire would soon throw aggie holes through homes, soldiers would die accompanied by my groans, and ragged bands of refugees would flee toward mountain caves and other chairs and tables.

You must go back to bed.” “No,” I shouted. “Not yet! I have to finish this game.” I couldn’t leave Andrew, not now, not when I was finally winning. Hannah released me so suddenly I staggered backward. “I’ll fetch Papa!” she cried. Andrew threw himself at her. “Hannah, stop, you’re ruining everything!” I grabbed his arm. “Let her go. We don’t have much time!” Casting a last terrified look at me, Hannah ran downstairs, calling for Mama and Papa. Andrew turned to me, his face streaked with tears. “Quick, Drew. Shoot four more marbles out of the ring!” Holding my breath I aimed. Click, click, click. An immie, a cat’s-eye, and a moonstone spun across the floor, but I missed the fourth. Andrew knuckled down and shot at the scattered marbles. Of the seven in the ring, he managed to hit two before he missed. Downstairs I heard Hannah pounding on Papa and Mama’s door. “One more, Drew,” Andrew whispered. It was hard to aim carefully. Papa and Mama were awake. Their voices rose as Hannah tried to explain I was in the attic acting as if I’d lost my mind. My hand shook and the first marble I hit merely clicked against another. Andrew took his turn, hit three, and missed the fourth. “Send me home, Drew,” he begged. “I don’t care if I die when I get there.” Two marbles were left--a carnelian and an immie, widely separated. Neither was close to my aggie. Even for someone as good as Andrew, it was a hard shot. Holding his breath, Andrew crossed his fingers and closed his eyes. I knuckled down and aimed for the carnelian. Click. As Papa tramped up the steps with Mama at his heels, the seventh marble rolled into the shadows. My aggie stayed in the middle of the ring. Andrew let out his breath and stared at me. I’d won--what would happen now?

Nicholas pulled back slightly but his gaze stayed scorchingly fastened on Lucy, even when he spoke. “Aggie, go beat someone up.” “I already did.” She absolutely, positively would not blush. The front door slammed open. “Or Cal did. Hel-Blar. And something else beat up Fletcher. He’s in the living room.” Nicholas pushed away from Lucy. “You know, most people collect stray dogs, not rabid homicidal teenagers.” “But I don’t know anything about dogs,” she grinned, before slipping past him to get the first aid kit from the shelf by the door.

Her desk was an abomination, a state of organized chaos that opened a small window into the way Aggie lived her life. Basically, like a mess.

a shake. He was a problem, she couldn’t deny it. The infuriating man could unveil her activities without the slightest glance back over his shoulder. One who could destroy her plans—much too easily and much too quickly. Sure, she was an oddity; she knew that. But she should have been inconsequential to a man with his considerable status and power—a hiccup in his life. Maybe he had forgotten their whole little scene on the balcony by now. And with luck, the inconvenience she had caused him the previous night in the street fight would also soon leave his mind. With even more luck, she would find her father’s other murderers tonight, and be done with the whole affair before he exposed her escapades. “Aggie dear, are you all right? You look a bit flushed and preoccupied,” her aunt said, worry evident in her brow. “Does your headache bother you overly much?” Aggie forced a smile. “No, Aunt Bea, I am fine, just a little tired. You saw me earlier, and I could not get back to sleep today.” “Well, no surprise after the last year you

Det är inte det att jag har någon stor hemlighet, jag försöker bara låta bli att tänka på det och det betyder att jag inte pratar om det. Så ingen annan än Aggie och mrs Doyle - och nu Evan - vet någonting. Jag ger honom tvättsvampen och går in utan ett ord. Ett kort ögonblick stannar jag till med en hand på magen, på den hårda bulan. Det finns ett universum där inne.

They were strong. Fierce.” I nodded, her eyes holding mine. And in her words I saw the promise. The memory. The equality of women in the tribe. “In war,” Aggie said, her voice going softer, “it was important that the losses in battle be compensated. If warriors of the tribe were killed, no matter if our people won a battle or lost, those warriors had value that had to be replaced in some way. After a battle, the Tsalagi would take the same number of prisoners, scalps, or lives that they lost.” Aggie paused, watching my face. Even more gently, she said, “Women led in the execution of prisoners. In the torture of prisoners. In the buying and selling of prisoners as slaves to recoup the financial cost of war. In the adoption of prisoners into the tribe. Such was the right and responsibility of women. As mothers. As widows. As warriors in their own right. “There was no one more fierce than a woman avenging her husband or son.

You’re too full of intrigue, Aggie. The artisans are not swayed by th same base passions as ourselves.

Pit spit a long string of tobacco. “I never went to school. But I’d go here if I could, just to stare at the teach.” He kept talking, rambling about Aggie’s fine looks. But not about her brown eyes or soft curls – instead, he talked about the curves of her body.

Remember when the Kerns put striped carpeting on their stairs and kept falling down them because they could tell where the edges were?" Aggie laughed. And glancing up Jane saw her shake her head just slightly and nearly imperceptible hug. Apparently Aggie had decided, as so many women had before her, that being angry with Duncan was just not worth the effort.

I have never held coincidence in must esteem,' said Grannie Jane. 'It always disappoints as a plot device in a novel and even more so in real life.

Bodies can show up anywhere.

I shall write him a murder story in a letter, but I won't put in the ending. I'll write the clues and the suspects and possibly the weapon, but my present to him will be that he can puzzle it out all by himself." And so, I began to plot.

Young women are restrained by so many tethers, it is not surprising that occasionally they get themselves tangled.

There are limits to Aggie’s love. It’s finite. And if it’s finite, it can’t be love.

you don’t have to do anything to be loved. Just existing is enough.

Like God and McDonalds, Aggi was everywhere

Texas A&M Haiku Aggies football, the wired 12th man. Too lazy to plant in the Spring.

My counselor says I have low self-esteem,” I say, perhaps as a way of evening things out. “I’m sorry,” she says. She seems really sorry, like this is terrible news. “I think I’m going to stop seeing her—I spend most of my time thinking about her life. And there’s nothing really wrong with my life. My life is perfectly fine.” Aggie

she’s faced with her worst nightmare.    

agate; agate type; aggie. In ancient times colored stones were often found near the Achates River in Sicily. The river gave its name to these pretty stones, or gems, as they were called. Because they were small, the stones gave their name to a small printing type, agate type, that is still used widely today. This type is called ruby in England but has been agate type in America since 1871. The marbles called aggies are so named because their coloring resembles agate.

Aggie,” he whispered. The sound of her name on his lips wrapped around her heart and squeezed.

Magic is really very simple, all you've got to do is want something and then let yourself have it. Aggie Cromwell, Halloweentown

Look, Aggie…” “Agatha to you, but Mrs. Raisin will do now that we’ve got to know each other so well.

it is a curated collection of practices that help you thrive physically, emotionally, and spiritually in your best and healthiest life—

visit Aggie McElroy—I think for the purpose of exhibiting him as a terrible example, in hopes of keeping Aggie’s youngest daughter from marrying the first young man who

that’s the thing about social media—it’s a curated version of reality.

What in God’s name is going on?” “Do you not remember what we did?” said Mrs. Unwin, matching my tone. “The whole village knows. Aggie Ducette has been telling everyone who’ll listen that I drugged her, that you came in and made off with little Jonah.” “That’s exactly what happened.” “Yes, well, now everyone knows it.

I don’t understand it, you know. I was married for forty years before the Good Lord took my Aggie. I would’ve given my right arm and probably my left for a few more years with her and today . . . most marriages are thrown away before they’ve even begun. A shame, that’s what it is, a damned shame.

I never understood why we give cut flowers as gifts, like ‘Here, take this flower I killed and watch it slowly shrivel up as a token of my love.

I often succumb to poetic notions, despite the gripping science.

She gasps, tilting my chin, and we both look up to see what the sky does, how it dances green and purple and blue, the colors too brilliant to be in Werner's, and I am crying still but now it is for the beauty of the world, and for its gentle pull, for the mystery of it and its timing, for its deep, deep knowing, when I was so close to the edge and now I am returned, and I wonder if this is what Aggie sees each time she comes back to me.

Grannie Jane raised an eyebrow. "A word of advice, Agatha dear, as you go forward into the world. Remember at all times with whom you are speaking and how your words may be interpreted by those hearing them.

A hero sometimes faces danger," I said. "Like a dragon-slayer or a nurse in a jungle hospital. But don't you think a hero might also be a person who does what no one else wants to do?

My car does not hold everyone illegally, much less legally.

If you ever show that kind of disrespect for my Aggie again, you will sorely wish you had not. Do you understand me? This is the woman who will be my wife. No one, man, woman, or child will get away with that. Am I clear?

He clicks his tongue, his jaw grinding, but he continues with the act nonetheless. "I just prefer you to call me by your loving nicknames." He glues his eyes to the back of the bar as he speaks, like he's looking over the shelves of amber bottles and rows of clean glasses. Stoic as ever. Taking another sip of the fairy wine, I drain my glass. "And what might those be?" "Asshole, for one." He tilts his head. His lips twitch. "Hobgoblin was pretty original." I snort, trapping the laugh that threatens to leave me behind my teeth. "Indeed.

Hey, don't judge." Vik's tone hardens. "I didn't mean to." I lift my hands in surrender, uneasy with the sudden tension. "I just think the biting thing isn't for me." "You say that now." Vik relaxes, giving me a knowing look. "But when you have your first heat, when your beast is wild for a mate, you may see things differently. Or maybe I'm wrong. Who knows?" She shrugs.

I'm falling helplessly in love with you and saying goodbye is going to completely destroy me, but I have to... and gods, I hate

Being a human is messy, Jane, Aggie told her the other day. No amount of rules can fix that. Sometimes you just need to let yourself feel something, even if it’s ugly.

Perfect isn't without flaw. Perfect is finished.

I prayed years ago that if I was going to make a decision for my life that was wrong for me, that God would radically change my direction.

I love you Aggie… more than chocolate biscuits.

I don’t want to have to watch you die.” “Then close your eyes.

How could you! How could you run away and leave me?” “Aggie!” Louis said reproachfully. “I did not run away for good, you foolish creature. As if I would leave you behind. Surely you know me better than that? If you had only waited, you would have received my letter explaining.” Aggie sniffed and wiped angrily at her eyes. “I w-was so worried about you. Everyone was saying such h-horrid things and I couldn’t stand it. I knew it wasn’t true, so I came after you. I was so f-frightened you were in trouble.” Louis pulled her back into a hug. “Aggie, ma puce. Don’t upset yourself so. And here was I thinking you were safe at school with your friends, or I too would have been out of my mind.

But this time around, Jane was determined to do everything right. She wouldn’t be jealous, not of Aggie, not of Duncan’s legion of ex-girlfriends, not of the new waitress at Robert’s with the long, dark eyelashes, not of the girl at the video store who carried her breasts in front of her as though they were a couple of large cupcakes. She would not be demanding, not of Duncan’s time, not of his attention, not of his commitment, not of his money. (He didn’t have any, so that part would be easy.) She would be all the things she had always meant to be in their relationship and somehow never managed to be: wise and cool and levelheaded and regal and hopelessly alluring, like a single ball bearing gleaming on a black velvet background, or maybe a Swedish nanny. If that meant inviting Aggie and Gary to Taco Tuesday, so be it.

I love you, Aggie! I love you more than chocolate biscuits!

Far off was the gentle roar of the sea, a constant lullaby. Except,

Don't let your stubborn pride be the decision-maker. Listen to your heart--and to God."~Hannah (Aggie's best friend

Travel has always been it for me. My guilty pleasure, my therapy, my most patient teacher. Travel- the act of getting out, exploring, and really discovering something new- has always been there to celebrate my victories, soothe my sorrows, and help make the world around me make sense. Traveling is an act of self-love as well as an act of self-discovery because as we ask the world around us to open up and let us in, we're also opening ourselves up to being changed and transformed by what we find.

admissions for those with esoteric academic preparation), (c) equality of the students (i.e., fair treatment and equal campus opportunities for “aggie” students), and (d) the diffusion of knowledge from higher education to the masses (i.e., the distribution of new knowledge and best practices from land-grant colleges and experiment stations via extension and outreach).35