Charas Quotes

I'll tell you a secret about storytelling. Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty... were not perfect in the beginning. It's only a happy ending on the last page, right? If the princess had everything from the beginning, there wouldn't be a story. Anyone who is imperfect or incomplete can become the main character in the story.

I want to challenge myself and do new things. I don't know what it's like to be my true self. But it's more interesting that way. Even if you don't know yourself? If you don't know it means you can become anything you want to be, right?

Like" as a friend. "Like" as respect. There are so many different kinds of "likes." So when does "like" turn into "love"? Where's the boundary?

Is the height of my chara joy dependent on the depths of my eucharisteo thanks?

Oh...I remember you...You're that weird cat-eared cosplay-kid! You called me a cospl... How'd you get all the way up to the third-floor window... Because I'm a cat.

Are you Stupid?" "Huh?" "Hotoba-san, Even if you are far away the sky i always connected. Friends are friend no matter where you are. Change isn't so bad...I was scared of change too. We're both scared. Lets be friend...okay?

You know, drinking milk doesn't make your boobs get any bigger.

Just so you know... Even if I don't break it... alot of people break their own Egg. All those adults walking around with tired faces... they've thrown away the "person they want to be.

Ow. Ow. That hurt. Ack.. I'm dead.

This isn't a shortcut for humans!! It's a route for cats!!

Ikuto! Are you ditching again? I'm bored, meow.

Whoa! Hey, what are you doing? I'm attaching myself to you. Because I'm a kid. Spoil me.

Hey, little kiddie king.. You're having a parade with your servants?

Stupid weirdo! Liar! You filthy cat-boy-!!

You're like a rebellious child! Huh? You always treat me like a kid, but you're a kid yourself!

Don't touch me without my permission. Mr. Little Boy

You're that weird cat-eared cosplay-kid!

Gya!! Stay away from me, weirdo! I'll press the burglar alarm!

Summer vacation is about watermelons, shaved ice, Popsicles, summer festivals with fireworks, and the ocean!!! That's what summer has been about for elementary school kids since the dawn of time! But no, you're worried about UV rays!" "Oh my." -I don't think they had elementary school at the dawn of time-

Come, come, Cap’n, be just,” returned the other.  “There’s no call to be angry with me in earnest.  I’m on’y a chara’ter in a sea story.  I don’t really exist.

We believe that we are each others gift from God. We thank the Heavens for the love we feel. In Chara we do not swear before God to honor and cherish one another; that's a promise we make when we say 'I love you.' You and I are more committed to one another then they could ever be. This is forever - this life and the next.

ninnai charaNadainthEn, kaNNammA ninnai charaNadainthEn ponnai, uyarvai, pugazhai virumbidum ennai kavalaigaL thinna thagAthena.. ninnai midimaiyum achamum mEvi en nenjil kudimai pugunthana, kondr(u)avai pOkkena - ninnai thunbam ini illai, sOrvillai sOrvillai, thORpillai anbu neRiyil aRangaL vaLarththida nallavai nAttida, theeyavai Ottida ninnai charaNadainthEn, kaNNammA ninnai charaNadainthEn!

The Greek word for “joy” is chara, derived from the word charis, which is the Greek word for grace. This is important to note, for it tells us categorically that chara (“joy”) is produced by the charis (“grace”) of God. This means “joy” isn’t a human-based happiness that comes and goes. Rather, true “joy” is divine in origin, a fruit of the Spirit that is manifested particularly in hard times. Someone may feel happiness, merriment, hilarity, exuberance, excitement, or “high spirits,” but all of these are fleeting emotions. On the other hand, “joy” is a Spirit-given expression that flourishes best when times are strenuous, daunting, and tough!

That’s what I was struggling out of nightmares to reach, to seize. Joy. But where can I seize this holy grail of joy? I look back down to the page. Was this the clue to the quest of all most important? Deep chara joy is found only at the table of the euCHARisteo—the table of thanksgiving. I sit there long … wondering … is it that simple?

If you never heal from what hurts you, you’ll bleed on people who didn’t cut you’. Food for thought.

Chara often said that a daughter's love was fleeting. A girl's time with her family was spent preparing for the day she would leave home to become part of another's. A mother saw a daughter as a reflection of who she was -- a strabger in every home she occupied. It was only when a son was raised and wedded that the mother could at last stake her place in the world. Because then she was able to look upon the bride entering the home as the stranger, and she, at last, was the familiar one.

Ah, my dear,” Princess Elestra said to me in her fluting voice--that very same voice I remembered so well from my escape from Athanarel the year before. “How delighted we are to have you join us here. Delighted! I understand there will be a ball in your honor tomorrow, hosted by my nephew Russav.” She nodded toward the other side of the room, where the newly arrived Duke of Savona stood in the center of a small group. “He seldom bestirs himself this way, so you must take it as a compliment to you!” “Thank you,” I murmured, my heart now drumming. I was glad to move aside and let Branaric take my place. I didn’t hear what he said, but he made them both laugh; then he too moved aside, and the Prince and Princess presented us to the red-haired woman, who was indeed the Marquise of Merindar. She nodded politely but did not speak, nor did she betray the slightest sign of interest in us. We were then introduced to the ambassadors from Denlieff, Hundruith, and Charas al Kherval. This last one, of course, drew my interest, though I did my best to observe her covertly. A tall woman of middle age, her manner was polite, gracious, and utterly opaque. “Family party, you say?” Branaric’s voice caught at my attention. He rubbed his hands. “Well, you’re related one way or another to half the Court, Danric, so if we’ve enough people to hand, how about some music?” “If you like,” said Shevraeth. He’d appeared quietly, without causing any stir. “It can be arranged.” The Marquis was dressed in sober colors, his hair braided and gemmed for a formal occasion; though as tall as the flamboyantly dressed Duke of Savona, he was slender next to his cousin. He remained very much in the background, talking quietly with this or that person. The focus of the reception was on the Prince and Princess, and on Bran and me, and, in a strange way, on the ambassador from Charas al Kherval. I sensed that something important was going on below the surface of the polite chitchat, but I couldn’t discern what--and then suddenly it was time to go in to dinner. With a graceful bow, the Prince held out his arm to me, moving with slow deliberation. If it hurt him to walk, he showed no sign, and his back was straight and his manner attentive. The Princess went in with Branaric, Shevraeth with the Marquise, Savona with the Empress’s ambassador, and Nimiar with the southern ambassador. The others trailed in order of rank. I managed all right with the chairs and the high table. After we were served, I stole a few glances at Shevraeth and the Marquise of Merindar. They conversed in what appeared to be amity. It was equally true of all the others. Perfectly controlled, from their fingertips to their serene brows, none of them betrayed any emotion but polite attentiveness. Only my brother stood out, his face changing as he talked, his laugh real when he dropped his fork, his shrug careless. It seemed to me that the others found him a relief, for the smiles he caused were quicker, the glances brighter--not that he noticed.

What are you eating?” “I don’t know,” she admitted. “She gave it to me.” She pointed at the tall woman who had been standing at the sink and watching their conversation with a worried look on her face. Lock turned to her. “Mumzell? Chara vena Kat Kala ala noosh?” She nodded her head rapidly. “Ja, ja! Shiba ava Kala ala noosh.” Then she hugged Lock and stood on tiptoes to kiss his forehead. “What? What is she saying?” Kat demanded. Deep frowned. “She’s saying you asked for it. She thinks you wanted it because…” He broke off, shaking his head. “Because what? What does it do?” Kat asked, worried. Had she poisoned herself with the strange fruit? Or had she somehow eaten something she wasn’t supposed to eat for religious reasons? Damn it, she didn’t know anything about this stupid planet. She had to get herself some translation bacteria! Lock finally finished speaking to the older woman. He turned back to Kat and spoke in a low voice. “What you ate are Kala fruit—what we call bonding fruit. They have uh…a special significance to our people.” Deep snorted. “That’s an understatement.” “Deep, please.” Lock gave him a warning look. “Will you just let me explain?” “They’re not poisonous or anything, right?” Kat asked. “I mean, I’m sure the nice lady wouldn’t have let me eat them if they were but—” “That ‘nice lady’ is our mother,” Deep said harshly. “And she now believes that you intend to mate with Lock and myself. Immediately. Because why else would anyone eat an entire bowl of bonding fruit in one sitting?” “What?” Kat felt a sudden rush of panic. “No, no,” she said to the woman, shaking her head rapidly. “It’s not like that with us. Really, it’s not.

He had never before been trapped in a summerhouse with a beautiful woman in his arms, and it wasn’t unwelcome. Her slender body was light, though her skirts billowed down to the ground. “I fear this is rather awkward for you.” She sent him a chagrined smile. “I didn’t mean for you to hold me until the rain stopped.” “I don’t mind it, a chara.” “I must be getting heavy.” Her face was flushed, as if she hadn’t considered the consequences of the rain. But her slight weight meant nothing at all to him. He met her gaze, and in her brown eyes, he saw that she was unsettled by his presence. Though he had done nothing at all except hold her, he was well aware of her slender curves. Her gown was damp, outlining her figure, and he found himself studying her closely. There was no hint of red in her brown hair now, for it was soaked from the rain. Her eyelashes were tipped with droplets, and the deep brown of her eyes fascinated him. Her nose had a slight tilt, and her cheeks held the flush of embarrassment. Even her lips were a soft pink, her upper lip slightly smaller than the lower. She pressed them together for a moment and then whispered, “Why are you staring at me?” “Because you are a beautiful woman. Why wouldn’t I stare?” He knew he ought to smile to reassure her that he was only teasing and it meant nothing, but that wasn’t entirely true. She was lovely, and he saw no harm in telling her so. “You are making me feel uncomfortable,” she admitted. “And I should remind you that my heart is already given to another man.” “Don’t worry, a chara. I wouldn’t be trespassing where I’m not wanted. They’re only words.” She still appeared uneasy. “Perhaps you should put me down on the bench again, Lord Ashton.” “If you’re wanting me to, I will. But I should warn you that the rain will soak through your gown and make you colder. It might not be wise.” “Nothing I do is very wise, it seems.” She lowered her gaze to avoid his. “I know how improper this is. My grandmother would be appalled if she could see you holding me right now. Even though we do have a chaperone.” She nodded toward Hattie, who was still cowering from the storm. “I-I should have brought Calvert along.” He didn’t deny it. The scent of her skin enticed him, and he was caught up in watching a single raindrop slide down her throat. Her breathing seemed to shift, and she was staring back at him now. Her eyes passed over his hair and his face. In her scrutiny, he wondered if she found him appealing enough. He’d never given much thought to his looks, but he hoped she was not displeased. “Why are you looking at me?” he murmured. Her mouth tightened, but she managed a smile. “I suppose, for the same reason you looked at me.” “Because you find me handsome?” He continued watching her, and the longer he held her, the more it struck him that he liked having this woman in his arms. “Well, you are that,” she admitted with a smile. “But I wondered if you might be a pirate in disguise, planning to carry me off. Despite my intentions to wed Lord Burkham.” There was teasing in her voice, meant to lighten the mood. “I

You’ll have to forgive me for being half-clothed, a chara,” he apologized, “but I was robbed on my journey here by a group of damned thieving boys.” Now what did he mean by that? Rose shut her eyes tightly and opened them again. No, he was still there. She filled her lungs with air, prepared to scream for all that was holy. “I won’t be harming you,” he said, lifting his hands in surrender, “but I would be most grateful for some clothes. Not yours, of course.” He sent her a roguish grin. She gaped at him, still uncertain of who he was. But she had to admit that he was indeed an attractive man, in a pirate sort of way. His brown hair was cut short, and his cheeks were bristled, as if he’d forgotten to shave. She tried not to stare at his bare chest, but he cocked his head and rested his hands at his waist. His chest muscles were well defined, his skin tawny from the sun. Ridges at his abdomen caught her eye, and it was clear enough that he was a working man. Perhaps a groom or a footman. Gentlemen did not possess muscles like these, especially if they lived a life of leisure. His green eyes were staring at her with amusement, and Rose found herself spellbound by his presence. “Do you not speak,” he asked, “or have I cast you into silence with my nakedness?” “Y-you’re not naked,” she blurted out. Her anxiety twisted up inside her, and she began babbling. “That is, you’re mostly covered,” she corrected, her face flaming. “The important bits, anyway.” Not naked? What sort of remark was that? She was sitting in the garden with a stranger wearing only trousers, and she hadn’t yet called out for help. What was the matter with her? He could be an intruder bent upon attacking her. But he laughed at her remark. It was a rich, deep tone that reminded her of wickedness. Rose

My father will be angry at you for this when he returns. I told you, I wasn’t the one who stole from you.” He grumbled beneath his breath, muttering something about a horse that had followed him. Mr. Donovan ignored the threat and added, “You missed a spot in the corner, lad. Finish it, and then we’ll bring you home. After you’ve washed up, that is.” “We?” Rose asked. “Aye, a chara. You can accompany us when I take the lad home again. Then we’ll talk, and you can ask me all the questions you’re wanting to.” He strode over to the end of the stables and brought out Molly, one of the older mares. “Bring Calvert as a chaperone, if you’d like.” “That would be Mister Calvert to you,” the footman corrected with a glare.

What are you planning to do with that rake, a chara?” he inquired, taking another step closer. Rose gripped the handle with both hands and drew it closer, using the tool to keep him at a distance. “Nothing, if you go away.” Truthfully, she didn’t know exactly what she would do with the rake. It wasn’t exactly suitable for stabbing someone. She could poke him with it, but not much else. This

Do you still claim to be an Irish earl, sir?” Her words held a dry humor, and the look in her eyes said she didn’t believe him at all. Iain’s mouth twisted in a smile. “My name is Lord Ashton, a chara. And you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?

So . . . you’re already married, then?” The thought seemed impossible, especially given the way he had been staring at her. “Not yet. But if you’re offering, a chara, I’d be glad to accept.” He sent her a teasing smile, and it seemed that his mood had shifted from the earlier melancholy. She sent him a wry look. “I was hardly proposing marriage, Mr. Donovan.” She wasn’t so desperate as that. “Besides, I already have a gentleman suitor.” “Have you?” His face brightened. “I cannot say I’m surprised to hear it. Any man would be honored to wed a cailín as fair as you.” Although his words were kind, she wasn’t interested in idle flirting. “Yes, well. You can turn your interests somewhere else.” “Is he here, then? Your betrothed husband?” “No, he’s in London.” “I can’t believe that’s wise. Leaving a beautiful woman such as yourself at the mercy of the local swains. You might change your mind about marrying him.” She

Are you wanting a passionate liaison, Lady Rose?” He kept his voice teasing, though he didn’t bother to hide his interest. “Don’t be silly. You’ve helped me to bed, and now you can go.” He drew the covers over her, well aware of her body warmth. He tucked her in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “There, now. Would you like a bedtime story?” His voice came out husky, and she glared at him. “Get. Out.” There was no mistaking her annoyance. “Where is my garden rake when I need it?” Instead, she gathered up one of the smaller pillows, holding it like a shield. But in spite of her warning, there was something else in her eyes. Not fear or loathing—but her own interest. In the dim candlelight of the room, her brown eyes were fixed upon him as if she saw nothing else. She leaned forward with the pillow, instead of cowering backward. He wasn’t about to refuse that invitation. “I know what it is we’re missing, a chara. A goodnight kiss.” Her eyes widened with shock. And yet, her hands relaxed from the pillow, while she supported her weight on her wrists. She looked nothing like a lady who was terrified of a stolen kiss. Instead, her mouth was slightly open, her cheeks flushed. “Absolutely not. I will scream if you even try such a thing.” He was tempted to lean in and taste her offering. What would it be like to feel her soft body against his own, stroking the line of her back? Would she wind her arms around his neck and open to him like a summer blossom? Iain moved a breath closer, watching her reaction. For a moment, she held herself in place, waiting. But instead of desire in her eyes, he saw the first trace of fear. Before she could protest again, he kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Lady Rose.” Then he stepped back to leave. It wasn’t the kiss he’d wanted, but at least she would not be angry with him. Yet, he was wrong about that. She appeared angry that he hadn’t stolen a true kiss. “You are a wretched man,” she informed him as he strode to her bedroom door. In one hand, she held the pillow. But he only paused and smiled. “What was that?” He raised a hand to his ear and said, “You wanted to thank me for taking you back to bed? Oh, aye, a chara, you’re very welcome, then.” With that, he closed the door gently behind him. A moment later, he heard a soft thunk as the pillow struck the wood.

Lord Ashton, we should stop now.” Her words were the barest whisper, for she no longer trusted herself. She was entranced by his handsome face and the way he was watching her now. If she lifted her mouth even the slightest fraction, she would be kissing him again. He drew his hand over the line of her jaw and tipped her chin up. “Here, in this place, you will call me Iain. And I intend to call you Rose.” She was trembling in his arms, feeling so lost. When he slid his hands into her hair, holding her imprisoned, she tried to look away. “What are you afraid of, a chara? I would never hurt you.” No, she knew that. But when she was in Lord Ashton’s arms, she felt more alive, in a way she’d never before experienced. In hardly more than a fortnight, he’d taken apart her illusions, making her question the feelings she’d held for the viscount. “Nothing,” she lied. The truth was, the earl had made her doubt Lord Burkham’s intentions, making her wonder if he’d ever cared for her at all. She had told herself that the six letters were a sign of interest and caring. But now, she wasn’t so certain. “Don’t be looking at me like that, Lady Rose,” he warned. His eyes had grown hooded, and he moved his hands around her in a true embrace. The warmth of his arms enfolded her, making her feel safe. “Like what?” Her breathing had shifted and was unsteady, her skin sensitive beneath the fabric of her gown. Though she was trying to behave as if nothing were wrong, her good sense was disappearing before her eyes. She was standing in a beautiful garden, locked away from the world in the arms of a handsome Irishman. If she had never met Thomas, undoubtedly this man would have caused her heart to flutter. Or pound against her chest, as it was currently doing. “Take a step back, Lady Rose,” he warned. “Or I’ll not be responsible for the consequences.” Rose lifted her eyes to his and there was no denying the desire in them. He was giving her the opportunity to raise boundaries between them, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She was lost in his gaze, feeling her own forbidden answer. In this place, there was no one to see. No one to tell her how wrong it was. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she didn’t pull away. His mouth assaulted hers with tenderness, flooding her with sensation. Her bare feet rested upon the grass while she clung to him for balance. His breath held the hint of tea, and the kiss became an awakening. It drew out the wilder side of herself, making her yearn for more. Beneath

Iain?” His sudden smile was blinding, and he held her hands in his. “You’ve already taken the first steps, a chara. Without even realizing it.” She had. For the first time in months, she’d managed to take two steps. Unbidden came the tears over her cheeks, while a shaky smile broke through. “I don’t even know how this happened.” Lord Ashton shook his head. “I can’t say how it did. But I watched you take two steps away from me.” Certainly, it was because he’d embarrassed her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Joy flooded through her. “Can you take a step toward me?” he asked. She sent him a sidelong glance. “I’m not sure I should. Especially with the way you’re looking at me now.” A knowing grin slid over his face. “And how am I looking at you?” “Like I’m a slice of cake.” She sent him a wry look, but he only appeared amused by her observation. “Perhaps I was wanting another taste of you.” He reached out to her shoulders, and she laughed at him. “Oh, no.” At that, she took a step away, suddenly realizing why he was teasing her. “Is this a ruse, meant to make me run away from you?” She faltered but took another step. Her body swayed out of balance, but with her bare feet upon the grass, it was easier to steady herself. “Is it working, then?” Iain reached out to her, pretending that he wanted to snatch her back into an embrace. “Yes.” Rose stopped walking and gave up trying to hold back her tears of happiness. She didn’t care if she was sobbing like a small child. These first few steps were nothing short of miraculous. Her cheeks were wet, but she was smiling so hard, they ached. Iain closed the distance and brought her back into his arms, holding her tightly. She no longer cared, but dampened the front of his shirt with her tears. He rubbed her spine, his arm around her waist. “Don’t cry, a ghrá. Else, I’ll have to kiss your tears away.” She wiped at her eyes, and a laugh broke free. “Then I suppose I’ll have to run.

I will invite myself to luncheon, and afterward, we can play whist or another game, if you’re wanting company.” Her lips tightened. “No one could ever accuse you of subtlety, Lord Ashton.” “I don’t know the meaning of the word.” She laughed at that, and he directed the team in the direction of her family’s townhouse. “You seem overly confident that I would want you to stay.” “Why wouldn’t you be wanting me to stay? It is preferable to staring at the wall, I hope.” “I would welcome your company,” she said. “But again, I worry that others will believe you are courting me.” “Don’t be so concerned about what others think.” He drew the horses to a stop when they reached her townhouse. “Is there any harm in spending an afternoon playing cards with me? Your sister can join us, along with your mother.” Her spirits lifted for a moment. “My mother would like that, I think. Grandmother has been keeping her behind closed doors as much as possible. I think she is becoming more melancholy each day.” Before the footman could come to help her disembark, Rose turned back to him. “Thank you for taking me for a drive.” With a soft smile, she added, “And you may stay for luncheon, before you suffer the indignity of losing to me in cards.” He only shook his head. “Nay, a chara. We’re to be partners in the game. It is your mother and sister who must prepare to lose.

Behind them emerged Lord Burkham. He, too, was watching. But there was no warmth in his expression. She didn’t know what that meant, nor did she care. This was no longer about him; it was about all that she’d done to overcome her illness. “Lord Burkham is here at last,” she informed Ashton. “Just behind you.” “Good. I hope he regrets leaving you behind and realizes his mistake,” he admitted. “If I were you, I’d not dance with him at all.” “It wouldn’t be polite to refuse him,” she said. “After all, we were nearly betrothed. I cannot refuse to dance with him.” “Of course you can. And ‘nearly betrothed’ means nothing at all.” His hand squeezed her waist lightly. There was something about Iain Donovan that drew her close, tempting her to surrender. She was intimately aware of his touch, of his palm upon her spine, pulling her near. If they were alone, she had no doubt that he would kiss her again. And it would unravel her senses if he did. He led her gently into the dance, moving slower than the other couples. She tried to follow him, but her footsteps were not light at all. It was far more difficult than she’d ever imagined. “Don’t be nervous, a chara. I won’t let you fall.” True to his word, Iain cut their pace in half, moving slowly as he turned her. Her skin warmed, her cheeks growing flushed. But she trusted him implicitly, knowing that he spoke the truth. He would never let her go. His hand tightened against her waist, and the heat of his palm warmed the silk of her gown. “I know you won’t.

Her pace was slow, and after a moment, she glimpsed him. Iain straightened in the water, unable to stop his smile. Well, now. Wasn’t this an interesting dilemma? “You have me at a disadvantage, a chara.” He took a few steps closer, unable to resist teasing her. Now the water was at his waistline, and Rose put up her hands. “Stop,” she commanded. “I didn’t realize you were here. There’s no need to . . . leave the water.” Her face held a lovely blush, and he rather wanted to see what she would do now. “I’ll just go now.” Oh, no. He wasn’t about to let this opportunity escape. “I had just finished swimming,” he said. “If you’d like to take your turn, the water is all yours. Though, I must say, it’s a bit cold now.” “I wasn’t planning to swim.” He took another step closer, and this time, the water grazed his hip bones. Rose scrunched her eyes shut. “No, you needn’t come any farther.” He rather wondered if she would sneak a glimpse if he were to leave the lake. He took another step forward, baring a bit more of himself. When she didn’t respond, he guessed that she was indeed hiding her eyes. “I do need my clothes,” he pointed out. “And they are on the shore at the moment. I’ll go and fetch them.” This time, he strode out of the water, fully bared. God almighty, it was cold. He watched Rose closely as he continued toward his clothes, but she kept both hands covering her eyes. He couldn’t be certain, but it almost looked as if there was a slight space between her fingers. Was is possible that she was staring at him? “Are you enjoying the view, a chara?” he asked as he reached for his smallclothes and trousers. “I am not looking at you.” “So you say.” He smiled to himself as he dressed. When he was half-clothed, he returned toward her horse. Aye, he could have finished putting on his shirt and the remainder of his clothing, but he wanted to see her reaction, to tease her a little more. “You can look now.” She did, and promptly shut her eyes again. “You are not dressed, Lord Ashton.” “All the important bits are. And it’s not as if you haven’t seen me in this state before.” She let out a groan. “Really, now. Must you behave in such a villainous manner?” “I would only be a villain if I pulled you from that horse and threw you in the lake.” He had no intention of doing so, but the slight gasp she emitted made it clear that she wasn’t quite so certain. “Don’t you dare.” He approached the horse while her eyes were still closed and reached up, pulling her down to stand before him. Rose squealed, and tried to fight him, but he held her steady. “Now, a chara, I wouldn’t do such a thing to you.” “You took me off the horse.” “So I did. You were wanting to walk, were you not?” He kept her standing, knowing full well that his body was still wet from the lake. “Your skin is freezing,” she pointed out. “The water was too cold.” “It’s England. It will never get warm,” he felt compelled to remind her. And he was accustomed to swimming in frigid water, for it wasn’t at all warm in Ireland, either. But the longer he held her waist, the more she had an effect upon him. Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted. Her reddish-brown hair was caught up in a pretty green bonnet, and she wore a riding habit that revealed the dip in her waist and the curve of her hips. Iain kept his arms around her, enjoying the temptation before him. There was no denying that Lady Rose was a stunningly beautiful woman, one he wanted to touch. Not yours, he warned himself. But she wasn’t fighting his hands upon her waist. And although she gave a slight shiver, she didn’t seem frightened of him. “I’m not going to harm you, Lady Rose,” he reminded her. “You can open your eyes.” After a moment, she did. “I cannot believe you were swimming naked in the lake. Did you think no one would come along?” He shrugged. “I don’t suppose I cared if anyone did.

If the woman I loved fell sick, I would be at her side, day and night. And even if my duties took me from her, I would write every day.” The roughness in his voice took her aback, and for a moment, she found herself caught up in his stare. She couldn’t read his emotions, for his anger was blended with an intensity that stole her breath. “I cannot understand why any man wouldn’t do the same for you.” His mouth rested above hers, and she felt the heat of his breath upon her lips. Against her will, her body responded to his nearness, making her soften to his touch. Though he crossed no boundaries, she trembled at the hushed sense of the forbidden. “You’re too good for him, a chara. If he truly loved you, he would not have left you when you were ill. And I think you know that.” Her face flooded with color, for he was the first one to openly say this. “Then why would Lord Burkham bother writing to me?” He hesitated at that. “I cannot say. Except that perhaps he feels guilty for not treating you as he should.” She didn’t want to believe it. Not when Thomas represented her hopes and dreams for the future. No, she would take comfort in the fact that he had continued to write letters, and she was glad of it. She let out a sigh. “I am tired, Lord Ashton. I think we are finished for today.” He regarded her with solemnity. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt your feelings, a chara.” “I know.

of nightmares to reach, to seize. Joy. But where can I seize this holy grail of joy? I look back down to the page. Was this the clue to the quest of all most important? Deep chara joy is found only at the table of the euCHARisteo—the table of thanksgiving.

But where can I seize this holy grail of joy? I look back down to the page. Was this the clue to the quest of all most important? Deep chara joy is found only at the table of the euCHARisteo—the table of thanksgiving.

Aunque siempre estaba triste. Incluso cuando era feliz, parecía triste. Como si algo no fuera bien en su corazón. La diosa Chara solía decir que era porque hacía mucho tiempo ellos le quitaron algo a ella que no debieron quitarle.

1  ‘Joy’ or ‘delight’ (chara) is a feeling of rational ‘elation’ (positive emotion) over virtue, as the truly good, which is the alternative to irrational pleasure; healthy ‘joy’ can take the form of delight, good cheer or peace of mind (tranquillity). 2  ‘Caution’ or ‘discretion’ (eulabeia) is a feeling of rational aversion towards vice as truly bad and harmful, which is the alternative to irrational fear; healthy ‘caution’ can take the form of a sense of dignity and self-respect or a sense of purity and sanctity. 3  ‘Wishing’ or ‘willing’ (boulêsis) is feeling of rational desire for virtue as genuinely good and beneficial, which is the alternative to irrational craving; healthy ‘wishing’ can take the form of affection, kind-heartedness, and benevolence, presumably the wish for oneself and others to flourish in accord with virtue Seneca explains that Stoic joy comes from reflecting on our own virtuous actions, something we are all capable of experiencing albeit in glimpses compared to the secure joy that takes root within the perfect Sage (Letters, 76).

Once or twice over the years I'd heard some asshole make the mistake of thinking Noah had flaws, but nope. I mean, yeah, he was adorably awkward sometimes and kinda clumsy even when he wasn't falling over drunk like this... and okay, he could be a bouncy little goofball who had trouble staying focused... and true, it was a stone-cold fact that he got as jittery as an Energizer Bunny on crack under any form of pressure and turned into a total drama queen when he was anxious, but all that shit was just what made him Noah. As far as I was concerned, Noah, by definition, was goddamn perfect just the way he was.

It's complicated." Chara turned around to face forward again. "I realized when you were trying to get me to come with you. A lot of people went to a lot of trouble to make sure I got a second chance. If I die fighting Jordan, I probably won't get a third. And if I did manage to kill him, that's another mess for Frisk and Papyrus and mom and dad to clean up. And then when he was talking, I understood. Sometimes the universe does let you have a second chance. But my second chance is not his.

Chara? What about you?" "...I want to get off Mister Bones' Wild Ride.

Our joyful moments give us what we need, and then remembering them resupplies us once again.

Somewhere deep insider her, the feeling of appreciation had begun to soothe and quiet all the other negative feelings.

Are you going to put your feet in?” he asked. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It would be foolish. Besides that, I’m already breaking too many rules by sitting here alone with you. Though if anyone finds me, I shall claim that I was abducted by a pirate.” “And then you would be forced to wed me to save your reputation,” he suggested. “Which is not so very dreadful.” “I disagree,” she countered. “You, Lord Ashton, are a very wicked man with no sense of propriety.” But her eyes revealed her amusement. “If I worried about what others think, I would not be sitting with a beautiful woman on a sunny day, now, would I?” He leaned back with his arms crooked behind his head. He had the feeling that Lady Rose had a rebellious side to her, buried beneath her years of good manners. She shook her head and sighed. Then she lifted up one foot and began unbuttoning her shoe. “I must be mad.” A rebel indeed. He grinned and helped her with the other shoe, until she was clad in stockings. “No more than I. But it was an invigorating swim.” “You ought to put your shirt on,” she reminded him. “Someone will see you and think you are intent on seducing me.” “You did accuse me of being a pirate, a chara.” He kept his voice light, but leaned a little closer. “We aren’t known for being gentlemen.” In response, Rose dipped her hand into the water and splashed it at his chest. “Then I’ll be forced to defend myself from you.” The frigid water spilled down his bare chest, dampening his waistband. Iain rested his arms on either side of her, trapping her against the rock. “Now that wasn’t fair, Lady Rose.” Her smile faded instantly. “I was teasing, Lord Ashton.” “Were you?” He was feeling rather bold at the moment. He drank in the sight of her—those wide brown eyes, the delicate nose and sweet lips. Her hair was hidden beneath the bonnet, and he took it off, setting it aside. “You don’t need this.” “My face will be covered in freckles if I don’t wear it.” But she didn’t appear to mind his interference. And instead of shoving him aside, she was watching him with interest. Sunlight gleamed across her brown hair, revealing the hints of auburn. He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. Her eyes widened, but she remained fixed upon his face. “Did Burkham ever kiss you?” “Of course.” Her voice held a hint of panic, but she didn’t pull away. He was caught up in the beauty of her. Her breath warmed his mouth, and for a moment, he remained near to her. She was forbidden to him, and he would not intrude where he wasn’t wanted. And yet, every part of him was entranced by her. “Tell me to leave you alone,” he said in a low voice. But she remained silent. Her hand moved up to touch the roughness of his face, and it only deepened the intimacy. She trailed her fingers upon his jaw, and the simple touch undid him. Iain bent and brushed his mouth against hers. It was the barest hint of a kiss, the promise of more if she wanted it. He pulled back immediately, searching her expression. He never wanted her to feel threatened by him. “Tell me if you’re wanting me to stop.” He leaned in again, nipping at her lips a second time. He waited for a long moment, giving her more than enough time to refuse. She could tell him no at any moment, and he would pull back. Instead, her eyes were wild, as if she didn’t know what to say or do. She tasted of summer, a softness and warmth like sunlight. Her eyes were caught up with his, her expression emboldened by a taste of the forbidden. Iain bent and claimed her mouth deeply, framing her face with both hands. He didn’t stop kissing her, learning the shape of her mouth and drawing her even closer.

He reached down for her hands again, and she stood. Each time, it got a little easier. But this time, he commanded, “Step on my feet.” “What? Why?” It would bring her closer to him, and she was uncertain about it. “Trust me, a chara. Now trample my toes, if you don’t mind.” A smile twitched at her mouth, but she hid it. Gently, she used all her effort to step on his right foot. Then his left. It was awkward, and she could feel her balance tipping. He sensed it, too, for he caught her waist and held her there. “Walk with me,” he said, and began to tread backward. She kept her feet upon his, and he moved them both toward the garden wall. Rose couldn’t help but laugh at the incongruity of him trying to move her across the garden. “What are you doing, Lord Ashton?” “There, now. You’ve walked.” He sent her a roguish grin, and added, “Shall we go to London, Saturday next?” His green eyes held mischief, and she shook her head in exasperation. “You are a foolish man. I didn’t walk at all.” “Aye, but you did. I may have moved you there, but you most definitely walked.” “Not on my own.” She eyed him in the manner of a scolding governess. “I only managed it because you had your arm locked around my waist.” She kept her voice chiding but didn’t tell him how his embrace had unnerved her. Though it meant nothing and they were only friends, she was fully conscious of his strong arms and the planes of his body. Every time his palms were upon her, her skin prickled with awareness. Even now, she detected a hint of the soap he had used for washing. “Hold on to my shoulders,” Lord Ashton advised her. He moved her sideways, spinning lightly, in a mock dance. He held out one of her hands while the other rested at her waist. “Here you are, cailín. You’ve even danced. I believe I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain.” “No, you have not, Lord Ashton.” Yet she couldn’t help but smile at his teasing. He

Eucharisteo, thanksgiving, envelopes the Greek word for grace, charis. But it also holds its derivative, the Greek word chara, meaning “joy.

— Ca te plaît de ne pas te connaître vraiment ? (Amu) — Oui, parce que ne pas savoir… C'est avoir la liberté d'essayer tout ce dont on a envie. (Kûkai)

Les victoires et les défaites font grandir et rayonner les gens. — Utau

Aimer quelqu'un ne veut pas forcément dire l'aimer d'amour. Tu aimes tes amis comme des amis… mais aimer d'amour, c'est autre chose. Tu sais, il y a beaucoup de manières d'aimer. Parfois, l'amitié peut évoluer en amour parce que la frontière entre les deux est très floue.

Well, yeah, you have a story, and your eyes tell it all; just not details.