Choosing Between Two Lovers Quotes

The people at the center of these stories of power couples mostly choose to see their own motives as selfless. In Elizabeth Edwards’ autobiography Resilience, she wrote of her marriage to John, U.S. senator from North Carolina, ‘We were lovers, life companions, crusaders, side by side, for a vision of what the country could be.’ When she found out he was cheating on her, the crusading together became ‘the glue’ that kept them together. ‘I grabbed hold of it. I needed to,’ Edwards wrote. ‘Although I no longer knew what I could trust between the two of us, I knew I could trust in our work together.’ She wanted ‘an intact family fighting for causes more important than any one of us.

Your head and your heart aren’t enemies; they’re long lost lovers desperate to be reunited. You don’t have to choose between the two.

Sometimes a person really must choose between two good things. Two good things, thought Flora. I would choose the thing that involved a cat.

Apparels play the role of life for a woman, Especially when going out as a couple, It consumes more time in asking the man, Rather than in deciding where to go, The most undesirable part when she is confused, Between two dresses and I observe her mused, She keeps on asking, shall I wear this one or that one, This colour or that colour, this size or that size, This style or that style, this type or that, Remember never gave an instant answer, It will do nothing but harm, as she think we don’t care, Act like you are thinking and then gave an answer, Even after choosing it and wearing it she asks, Are you sure I look beautiful? Well the lesser the clothes greater the beauty, I wanted to say.

Is it a long time since you saw him last?” I asked, not wishing to appear reluctant to speak to him of Morel, nor yet to seem to know that they lived together all the time. “He called in for five minutes this morning, as it happens, while I was still half asleep, and came and sat on the end of my bed, as if he were going to rape me!” I immediately concluded that M. de Charlus had seen Charlie within the hour, for when one asks a man’s mistress when she last saw the man one knows—and whom she perhaps thinks one believes—to be her lover, if she has just had tea with him, she will reply, “I saw him just before lunch.” Between these two statements the only difference is that one is false and the other true, but each is as innocent or, if you like, as guilty as the other. So it would be difficult to understand why the mistress (or here, M. de Charlus) invariably chooses the falsehood, if one did not know that their replies are determined, in a way unknown to the speaker, by a number of factors which seems so disproportionate to the triviality of the issue that it seems absurd to dwell on them. But for a physicist the position of the tiniest ball of pith is explained by the action, the clash or the equilibrium of the same forces of attraction or repulsion whose laws govern much greater worlds.

Could you have been content to live with Nighteyes among the wolves?” “I would have been willingly to try,” I said stubbornly. “Even if his mate could never completely accept you?” “Could you, for once, simply say whatever it is you are trying to say?” He looked at me and rubbed his chin as if he were truly considering it. Then he smiled sadly. “No. I can’t. Not without damaging something precious to me.” As if he were not changing the subject at all, he asked, “Will you ever tell Dutiful that your body fathered his?” I did not like him to speak that aloud even when it was just we two. My strong Skill-bond with Dutiful made him seem ever close. “No,” I said shortly. “He would see too many things differently. It would hurt him, to no good end. It would damage the image of his father, his feelings toward his mother, even his feelings toward me. What purpose could it serve?” “Exactly. So you will always love him as a son, but treat him as your prince. One step from where you long to be. Because even if you told him, you could never be his father.” I was starting to get angry again. “You are not my father.” “No.” He stared at the fire. “And I’m not your lover, either.” I felt suddenly weary and sour. “Is that what this is about? Bedding with me? You won’t return to Buckkeep because I won’t bed with you?” “No!” He did not shout the word, but something in the way he said it stunned me into silence. His voice was low, almost harsh as he spoke. “Always, you bring it back to that, as if that is the only possible culmination of love.” He sighed and abruptly settled back in his chair. He looked at me speculatively, and then asked, “Tell me, did you love Nighteyes?” “Of course.” “Without reserve.” “Yes.” “Then by your logic, you wished to couple with him?” “I wished…No!” “Ah. But that was only because he too was male? It had nothing to do with your other differences?” I gaped at him. A moment longer he managed to keep his face straight in honest inquiry. Then he laughed at me, more freely than I had heard him laugh in a long time. I wanted to be offended, but it was such a relief to hear him laugh, even at my expense, that I could not. He caught his breath, and said, “There it is. Plainly, Fitz. I told you I set no limits on my love for you. I don’t. Yet I never expected you to offer me your body. It was the whole of your heart, all for myself, that I sought. Even though I’ve never had a right to it. For you gave it away ere you ever saw me.” He shook his head. “Long ago, you told me that Molly would never be able to tolerate your bond with the wolf. That she would force you to decide between them. Do you still believe that?” “I think it likely,” I had to reply softly. “And how do you think she would react to me?” He paused for a heartbeat. “Whom would you choose? And what would you lose, either way, by being forced to make such a choice?

Could you have been content to live with Nighteyes among the wolves?” “I would have been willingly to try,” I said stubbornly. “Even if his late could never completely accept you?” “Could you, for once, simply say whatever it is you are trying to say?” He looked at me and rubbed his chin as if he were truly considering it. Then he smiled sadly. “No. I can’t. Not without damaging something precious to me.” As if he were not changing the subject at all, he asked, “Will you ever tell Dutiful that your body fathered his?” I did not like him to speak that aloud even when it was just we two. My strong Skill-bond with Dutiful made him seem ever close. “No,” I said shortly. “He would see too many things differently. It would hurt him, to no good end. It would damage the image of his father, his feelings toward his mother, even his feelings toward me. What purpose could it serve?” “Exactly. So you will always love him as a son, but treat him as your prince. One step from where you long to be. Because even if you told him, you could never be his father.” I was starting to get angry again. “You are not my father.” “No.” He stared at the fire. “And I’m not your lover, either.” I felt suddenly weary and sour. “Is that what this is about? Bedding with me? You won’t return to Buckkeep because I won’t bed with you?” “No!” He did not shout the word, but something in the way he said it stunned me into silence. His voice was low, almost harsh as he spoke. “Always, you bring it back to that, as if that is the only possible culmination of love.” He sighed and abruptly settled back in his chair. He looked at me speculatively, and then asked, “Tell me, did you love Nighteyes?” “Of course.” “Without reserve.” “Yes.” “Then by your logic, you wished to couple with him?” “I wished…No!” “Ah. But that was only because he too was male? It had nothing to do with your other differences?” I gaped at him. A moment longer he managed to keep his face straight in honest inquiry. Then he laughed at me, more freely than I had heard him laugh in a long time. I wanted to be offended, but it was such a relief to hear him laugh, even at my expense, that I could not. He caught his breath, and said, “There it is. Plainly, Fitz. I told you I set no limits on my love for you. I don’t. Yet I never expected you to offer me your body. It was the whole of your heart, all for myself, that I sought. Even though I’ve never had a right to it. For you gave it away ere you ever saw me.” He shook his head. “Long ago, you told me that Molly would never be able to tolerate your bond with the wolf. That she would force you to decide between them. Do you still believe that?” “I think it likely,” I had to reply softly. “And how do you think she would react to me?” He paused for a heartbeat. “Whom would you choose? And what would you lose, either way, by being forced to make such a choice?