Don't Attach With Anyone Quotes

Don't attach yourself to anyone who shows you the least bit of attention because you're lonely. Lonliness is the human condition. No one is ever going to fill that space. The best thing you can do it know yourself... know what you want.

Maybe your country is only a place you make up in your own mind. Something you dream about and sing about. Maybe it's not a place on the map at all, but just a story full of people you meet and places you visit, full of books and films you've been to. I'm not afraid of being homesick and having no language to live in. I don't have to be like anyone else. I'm walking on the wall and nobody can stop me.

Remember me? I'm back to my old self again. No responsibilities, no attachments, no encumbrances. I don't want to own anything, love anyone, or get too attached to people, places or things. It's a rule that seems to work well for me.

I get attached to people, but they have their own lives, their own problems, and really don't give a shit about anyone else. I knew that was true, and it didn't bother me most of the time. I had learned to be a friend without expecting anything in return. I had learned not to be surprised when people decided that I no longer fit into their lives. (14)

Just shut up and start sucking each other's faces already," Vida grumbled, leaning awkwardly against the stump. She would never admit it aloud, but I knew the burns on her back her eating her alive with pain. "I'm trying to make up for the sleep I lost when you started screeching at each other like cats in heat." "Miss Vida," Liam said, "has anyone ever told you that you are positively the whipped cream on the sundae of life?" She glared at him. "Anyone ever told you your head is shaped like a pencil?" "That is physically impossible," Chubs groused. "He'd be--" "Actually," Liam began, "Cole once did try to-- What?" "Oh, I'm sorry," Chub said, "apparently the middle of my sentence interrupted the beginning of yours. Do continue." "I'm going to guess you probably don't want to hear about the time he pushed my head through the neighbours fence..." "Was there a lot of blood?" Vida asked, suddenly interested. "Did you lose an ear?" Liam held his hands up next to his ears, indicating both were firmly attached to his skull. "Then, no" she said. "No one wants to hear your boring-ass story.

No,” he said. “No, I’ll never wonder what it would be like to have sex with someone else for the same reason I don’t want to kiss anyone else. You’re the only girl I’ve ever touched. And I feel like it was supposed to be that way. I touch you and my whole body … rings. Like a bell or something. And I could touch other girls, and maybe there would be something, you know, like maybe there would be noise. But not like with you. And what would happen if I kept touching and touching them, and then … and then, I tried to touch you again? I might not be able to hear us anymore. I might not ring true.

Don’t attach yourself to anyone who shows you the least bit of attention because you’re lonely. Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. An intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way. (movie & novel combination)

Couples in distress too often turn to solutions that can be summed up by "You do your thing and I'll do my thing" or "You take care of yourself and I'll take care of myself." We hear pop psychology pronouncements such as "I'm not ready to be in a relationship" and "You have to love yourself before anyone can love you." Is any of this true? Is it really possible to love yourself before someone ever loves you? Think about it. How could this be true? If it were true, babies would come into this world already self-loving or self-hating. And we know they don't. In fact, human beings don't start by thinking anything about themselves, good or bad. We learn to love ourselves precisely because we have experienced being loved by someone. We learn to take care of ourselves because somebody has taken care of us.

You don’t need to “attach” yourself to anyone. You just need to make yourself someone who you can stand to be with—alone.

Danny used one of the most powerful defences known in psychology: depersonalization. He cut off all his feelings. It was the perfect armour. The only problem with his perfect weapon was that he could barely attach to anyone, or feel life’s pleasures. As he said at the beginning of our work together, “I don’t need joy.” He was right, in a way. Is it better to feel or to maintain your sanity? For many years, he chose the latter.

What's going on between us?" I don't know. I rubbed my hand over my face before glancing at Echo. A hint of her cleavage peeked from her shirt. Damn, she was sexy as hell. I wanted her, badly. Would one night be enough, even if she gave it to me? Echo already felt like a heavy drug. The kind I avoided on purpose—crack, heroin, meth. The ones that screwed with your mind, crept into your blood and left you powerless, helpless. If she gave her body to me, would i be able to let go or would i be sucked into that black veil, hooks embedded into my skin, sentenced to death by the emotion i reserved for my brothers-love? "I want you." "Do you? Really? Because these scars are sexy." How did she see her self? "I don't give a fuck about your scars." She stalked toward me, hips swaying side to side, eyes hardened with anger. Echo pushed her body agaist mine, parts of her fitting perfectly into parts of me. I swore under my breath, fighting for control over my body. "How are you going to react when we 're this close and you take off my shirt? Are you still going to want me when you see red and white lines? Are you going to flinch each time you accidentally touch my arms and feel the raised skin? How about when i touch you?" She pulled away from me, leaving my body cold after experiencing her warmth. "Or will you forbid that? Will you tell me how to dress or what i'm allowed to take off?" Her anger only fed mine. "For the last time I don't give a fuck about your scars." "Liar. Because the only way anyone will ever be okay with me is if they love me. Really love me enough to not care that I’m damaged. You don't love people. You have sex with them. So how could you want to be with me?" She'd summed me up perfectly. I didn't love people-only my brothers. Echo deserved more. Better than me. One shot. Take it or go home. Kiss her and risk an attachment or leave her and watch some other guy enjoy what could have been mine.

Don’t attach yourself to anyone who shows you the least bit of attention because you’re lonely. Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. And intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way. (Book AND movie combination.)

I suppose you don’t care about anyone,” said Catherine. Finn paused. “I find few people are worth the effort.” “A charmer like you?” she said. “No. I don’t believe it.

Don’t attach yourself to anyone who shows you the least bit of attention because you’re lonely. Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. And intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.

I’m sorry for making you feel bad when I should’ve done the opposite. I lost the ability to feel love when I was a boy, but you’ve slowly but surely yanked those feelings out of me. You didn’t only yank them out, you also held tight to a part of me I thought was long gone. For you, I want to go back in time and keep that part alive for the moment I met you. In the past, I thought people were destined to leave, so being attached to anyone was useless. And I thought that at some point, you would leave, too. I fought the pull to you. I fought the lure of your rose scent and your breakable softness. But I couldn’t fucking last. Not when I craved your presence the moment you were out of sight. Not when my thoughts of breaking your purity turned to a need to protect it. I told you how different my love is, how dark it can get, but I do love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. I don’t only need you; I also genuinely cannot live without you and the light you bring to my darkness. I know you deserve better, but I’m unable to let you go, so I’ll try my best to be worthy of you, Lenochka.

[WAIT—IT WON’T LET ME REDACT THESE LITTLE SUBHEADING THINGS? THAT’S SUPER ANNOYING!] [FINE, I’LL JUST GIVE YOU MY SUMMARY.] [SO, WHOEVER WROTE THIS WAS ALL BLAH-BLAH-BLAH-STELLARLUNE-SOMETHING-SOMETHING-LEGACY. BUT SERIOUSLY, NO ONE WANTS TO READ ABOUT THE CREEPY STUFF MY MOM DID BEFORE SHE GOT PREGNANT WITH ME! (AND WE’RE ALL SUPER SICK OF HEARING ABOUT MY “LEGACY,” AMIRITE?) SO, LET’S JUST LEAVE IT AT THIS: MY MOM IS EVIL. SHE THINKS SHE’S WAY SMARTER THAN SHE IS. AND NOTHING SHE DID IS GOING TO AFFECT MY GENERAL AWESOMENESS, OKAY?] A PHOTOGRAPHIC MEMORY: [WOW, HOW DID YOU COME UP WITH SUCH A CLEVER TITLE?!] [AND YEAH, I HAVE A PHOTOGRAPHIC MEMORY. NOT SURE WHY ANYONE CARES. BUT IT DOES COME IN HANDY DURING MIDTERMS AND FINALS.] AHEAD OF THE GAME: [BASICALLY: I’M A GENIUS. I SKIPPED LEVEL ONE AT FOXFIRE. YES, YOU SHOULD BE IMPRESSED.] UNREASONABLY HIGH STANDARDS: [GOTTA ADMIT, I WAS TEMPTED TO LEAVE THIS ONE ALONE, SINCE WHOEVER WROTE IT ACTUALLY GOT THINGS PRETTY MUCH RIGHT. I GUESS EVEN THE COUNCIL KNOWS MY DAD’S A JERK WHO FREAKS OUT ALL THE TIME BECAUSE I’M NOT A LITTLE MINI-HIM. WHO KNEW?] A POWERFUL EMPATH: [UGH, THAT’S THE BEST YOU COULD DO FOR THIS SUBHEADING???] [HOW ABOUT “LORD OF THE FEELS”? OR “TRUST THE EMPATH”! OR “HE KNOWS WHAT YOU’RE FEELING—AND YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF”?] [OOO! I’VE GOT IT! “HE KNOWS FOSTER BETTER THAN YOU DO! BETTER THAN SHE EVEN KNOWS HERSELF!”] [THOUGH… KEEPING IT REAL? THE FOSTER OBLIVION CAN BE KINDA NOT COOL SOMETIMES.] THE HEART OF THE MATTER: [I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GUYS NAMED A SECTION OF MY FILE AFTER MY FATHER’S SUPER-BORING BOOK—AND THEN RAMBLED ON FOR TWO PAGES ABOUT HIS SUPER-BORING THEORY!!!!!] [YOU DON’T NEED TWO PAGES ON IT. YOU DON’T EVEN NEED TWO SENTENCES. HERE’S ALLLLLL YOU NEED TO KNOW—BESIDES THE FACT THAT HE’S TOTALLY NOT THE FIRST PERSON TO COME UP WITH THIS (JUST THE ONE WHO LOVES TO TAKE CREDIT): OUR HEADS AND OUR HEARTS SOMETIMES FEEL DIFFERENT EMOTIONS, AND WHAT’S IN OUR HEARTS IS PROBABLY STRONGER.] [THAT’S IT!] [WELL… OKAY… I GUESS HE ALSO GOES ON A BIT ABOUT HOW EMPATHS PROBABLY ONLY READ THE EMOTIONS FROM THE HEAD.] [AND THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT HEART EMOTIONS BEING PURER BECAUSE NO ONE CAN CONTROL THEM.] [BUT THAT’S IT.] [AND DON’T TELL LORD BORINGPANTS I READ HIS DUMB BOOK! I MOSTLY SKIMMED.] PRANKSTER AND TROUBLEMAKER: [100 PERCENT ACCURATE. ALSO, I’M LEAVING YOUR LITTLE ATTACHED DETENTION RECORD BECAUSE IT’S THE GREATEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!!!!]

May 28, 1877 As I don’t believe in sending letters filled with treacle-like sentiment, I feel as if I should…send you a puppy or something. Alas. I don’t know if puppies keep when sent through the mails—and I doubt they’d pass through customs these days. It’s too bad you aren’t a pirate, as you’d once planned. That would make puppy delivery far more efficient. I’d bring up my own ship next to you and send you an entire broadside of puppies. You’d be buried in very small dogs. You’d be far too busy with puppy care to worry about anything else. This is now sounding more and more invasive, and less and less cheering—and nonetheless I have yet to meet anyone who was not delighted by a wriggling mass of puppies. If I ever did meet such a person, he would deserve misery. Do not doubt the power of the puppy-cannon. Edward P.S. If there is no puppy attached to this message, it is because it was confiscated by customs. Bah. Customs is terrible

7. Character is built in the course of your inner confrontation. Character is a set of dispositions, desires, and habits that are slowly engraved during the struggle against your own weakness. You become more disciplined, considerate, and loving through a thousand small acts of self-control, sharing, service, friendship, and refined enjoyment. If you make disciplined, caring choices, you are slowly engraving certain tendencies into your mind. You are making it more likely that you will desire the right things and execute the right actions. If you make selfish, cruel, or disorganized choices, then you are slowly turning this core thing inside yourself into something that is degraded, inconstant, or fragmented. You can do harm to this core thing with nothing more than ignoble thoughts, even if you are not harming anyone else. You can elevate this core thing with an act of restraint nobody sees. If you don’t develop a coherent character in this way, life will fall to pieces sooner or later. You will become a slave to your passions. But if you do behave with habitual self-discipline, you will become constant and dependable. 8. The things that lead us astray are short term—lust, fear, vanity, gluttony. The things we call character endure over the long term—courage, honesty, humility. People with character are capable of a long obedience in the same direction, of staying attached to people and causes and callings consistently through thick and thin. People with character also have scope. They are not infinitely flexible, free-floating, and solitary. They are anchored by permanent attachments to important things. In the realm of the intellect, they have a set of permanent convictions about fundamental truths. In the realm of emotion, they are enmeshed in a web of unconditional loves. In the realm of action, they have a permanent commitment to tasks that cannot be completed in a single lifetime.

Gray rested his hand on Aric’s knee. “Sacrificed yourself, j-just like the giants.” “But I didn’t mean to! It’s only… the prince fell over the cliff, and I didn’t think at all, I just moved. I was the tallest and the strongest. I don’t think anyone else could have reached him in time. He was injured pretty badly. But I wasn’t a hero. I saw something that needed to be done, and I did it.” With a low chuckle, Gray squeezed his knee. “Th-that’s what heroes do, Aric.” “But I’m not—” “You s-saved me.” Aric shook his head and then gave a little tug on the chain that attached Gray’s collar to the floor. “You’re still a prisoner.” “You saved me,” Gray repeated firmly to Aric. And then he kissed him.

I'm not saying anyone did this. But people are capable of all kinds of things. And I can keep trusting people and getting hurt, or I can try to be more sensible about it." I scowl and look away from them, but despite my determination, the words taste like bile in my mouth. It's so much easier not to get attached to people, but I don't think I can live like that.

>>How old were you when you had your first kiss? >>Twenty. It's pathetic. Guys don't want to kiss fat girls. >>Not true. There are all those guys on jerry springer, and there's president Clinton... >>Make that: no one I ever wanted to kiss wanted to kiss a fat girl. >>I'll bet you never gave anyone a chance. Mitch says you practically beat him away with a stick. >>I was trying to spare him.

Equally disagreeable is the man who, when leaving in the middle of the night, takes care to fasten the cord of his headdress. This is quite unnecessary; he could perfectly well put it gently on his head without tying the cord. And why must he spend time adjusting his cloak or hunting costume? Does he really think that someone may see him at this time of night and criticize him for not being impeccably dressed? A good lover will behave as elegantly at dawn as at any other time. He drags himself out of bed with a look of dismay on his face. The lady urges him on: “Come, my friend, it’s getting light. You don’t want anyone to find you here.” He gives a deep sigh, as if to say that the night has not been nearly long enough and that it is agony to leave. Once up, he does not instantly pull on his trousers. Instead, he comes close to the lady and whispers whatever was left unsaid during the night. Even when he is dressed, he still lingers, vaguely pretending to be fastening his sash. Presently he raises the lattice, and the two lovers stand together by the side door while he tells her how he dreads the coming day, which will keep them apart; then he slips away. The lady watches him go, and this moment of parting will remain among her most charming memories. Indeed, one’s attachment to a man depends largely on the elegance of his leave-taking. When he jumps out of bed, scurries about the room, tightly fastens his trouser-sash, rolls up the sleeves of his Court cloak, over-robe, or hunting costume, stuffs his belongings into the breast of his robe and then briskly secures the outer sash—one really begins to hate him.

Don't devote yourself to anyone. Eventually, everyone walks out of your life If you are so filled with love, there are many out there who are waiting for just one kind gesture, one kind word Extend your hand and help the right ones. Again, don't get involved! Attachment only leads to emotional exhaustion. This world is a simple place. Get busy exploring its simplicity. Get busy exploring its beauty. People are complicated. Life is too short to get involved in their complications.

Good-bad problems are major destroyers. People who can’t reconcile either their own or anyone else’s faults suffer tremendous isolation because they are unable to attach to real, whole people who are both good and bad. The ideals of what “should” be get in the way. Perfectionists demand that their friends be perfect. Initially, when they click with someone, they will experience a wonderful honeymoon period, full of discoveries about “all the things we have in common” and how “compatible” they are. Then a conflict will arise. They will start to see the other person’s faults: they’re always late; they don’t listen well; they are too controlling. Suddenly the perfectionists are confused and disappointed. Someone they’d believed in, hoped for, expected more from has seriously let them down. And they tend to leave and reenter the fruitless, futile search for the ideal. Since safe people aren’t perfect people, they are disqualified, and the perfectionist goes on alone.

Whatever a relationship may be, it certainly entails two things: clarity of perception (inasmuch as we’re capable of it; some people would dispute to what extent we can attain clarity of perception, but I don’t think anyone would dispute that it is desirable that we move toward it) and accuracy of response. You’re more likely to respond accurately when you perceive clearly. When your perception is distorted, you’re not likely to respond accurately. How can you love someone whom you do not even see? Do you really see someone you’re attached to? Do you really see someone you’re afraid of and therefore dislike? We always hate what we fear.

The military authorities were concerned that soldiers going home on leave would demoralize the home population with horror stories of the Ostfront. ‘You are under military law,’ ran the forceful reminder, ‘and you are still subject to punishment. Don’t speak about weapons, tactics or losses. Don’t speak about bad rations or injustice. The intelligence service of the enemy is ready to exploit it.’ One soldier, or more likely a group, produced their own version of instructions, entitled ‘Notes for Those Going on Leave.’ Their attempt to be funny reveals a great deal about the brutalizing affects of the Ostfront. ‘You must remember that you are entering a National Socialist country whose living conditions are very different to those to which you have been accustomed. You must be tactful with the inhabitants, adapting to their customs and refrain from the habits which you have come to love so much. Food: Do not rip up the parquet or other kinds of floor, because potatoes are kept in a different place. Curfew: If you forget your key, try to open the door with the round-shaped object. Only in cases of extreme urgency use a grenade. Defense Against Partisans: It is not necessary to ask civilians the password and open fire upon receiving an unsatisfactory answer. Defense Against Animals: Dogs with mines attached to them are a special feature of the Soviet Union. German dogs in the worst cases bite, but they do not explode. Shooting every dog you see, although recommended in the Soviet Union, might create a bad impression. Relations with the Civil Population: In Germany just because someone is wearing women’s clothes does not necessarily mean that she is a partisan. But in spite of this, they are dangerous for anyone on leave from the front. General: When on leave back to the Fatherland take care not to talk about the paradise existence in the Soviet Union in case everybody wants to come here and spoil our idyllic comfort.

Any Justification that does not lead to Biblical sanctification and mortification of sinful desires is a false justification no matter how many Solas you attach to it”. “See that your chief study be about the heart, that there God’s image may be planted, and his interest advanced, and the interest of the world and flesh subdued, and the love of every sin cast out, and the love of holiness succeed; and that you content not yourselves with seeming to do good in outward acts, when you are bad yourselves, and strangers to the great internal duties. The first and great work of a Christian is about his heart.” ~ Richard Baxter Never forget that truth is more important to the church than peace ~ JC Ryle "Truth demands confrontation. It must be loving confrontation, but there must be confrontation nonetheless.” ~ Francis Schaeffer I am not permitted to let my love be so merciful as to tolerate and endure false doctrine. When faith and doctrine are concerned and endangered, neither love nor patience are in order...when these are concerned, (neither toleration nor mercy are in order, but only anger, dispute, and destruction - to be sure, only with the Word of God as our weapon. ~ Martin Luther “Truth must be spoken, however it be taken.” ~ John Trapp “Hard words, if they be true, are better than soft words if they be false.” – C.H. Spurgeon “Oh my brethren, Bold hearted men are always called mean-spirited by cowards” – CH Spurgeon “The Bible says Iron sharpens Iron, But if your words don't have any iron in them, you ain't sharpening anyone”. “Peace often comes as a result of conflict!” ~ Don P Mt 18:15-17 Rom 12:18 “Peace if possible, truth at all costs.” ~ Martin Luther “The Scriptures argue and debate and dispute; they are full of polemics… We should always regret the necessity; but though we regret it and bemoan it, when we feel that a vital matter is at stake we must engage in argument. We must earnestly contend for the truth, and we are all called upon to do that by the New Testament.” Martyn Lloyd-Jones (Romans – Atonement and Justification) “It is one of the severest tests of friendship to tell your friend his faults. So to love a man that you cannot bear to see a stain upon him, and to speak painful truth through loving words, that is friendship.” ~ Henry Ward Beecher “Truth bites and it stings and it has a blade on it.” ~ Paul Washer Soft words produce hard hearts. Show me a church where soft words are preached and I will show you a church of hard hearts. Jeremiah said that the word of God is a hammer that shatters. Hard Preaching produces soft hearts. ~ J. MacArthur Glory follows afflictions, not as the day follows the night but as the spring follows the winter; for the winter prepares the earth for the spring, so do afflictions sanctified, prepare the soul for glory. ~ Richard Sibbes “Cowards never won heaven. Do not claim that you are begotten of God and have His royal blood running in your veins unless you can prove your lineage by this heroic spirit: to dare to be holy in spite of men and devils.” ~ William Gurnall

• I find it relatively easy to get close to others and am comfortable depending on them and having them depend on me. I don’t often worry about being abandoned or about someone getting too close to me. (Measure of the secure attachment style) • I am somewhat uncomfortable being close to others; I find it difficult to trust them completely, difficult to allow myself to depend on them. I am nervous when anyone gets too close, and often, love partners want me to be more intimate than I feel comfortable being. (Measure of the avoidant attachment style) • I find that others are reluctant to get as close as I would like. I often worry that my partner doesn’t really love me or won’t want to stay with me. I want to merge completely with another person and this desire sometimes scares people away. (Measure of the anxious attachment style)

Mrs. Rutledge . . .” he started, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I shouldn’t overstep my bounds. But I feel it necessary to say—” He hesitated. “Go on,” Poppy said gently. “I’ve worked for Mr. Rutledge for more than five years. I daresay I know him as well as anyone. He’s a complicated man . . . too smart for his own good, and he doesn’t have much in the way of scruples, and he forces everyone around him to live by his terms. But he has changed many lives for the better. Including mine. And I believe there’s good in him, if one looks deep enough.” “I think so, too,” Poppy said. “But that’s not enough to found a marriage on.” “You mean something to him,” Valentine insisted. “He’s formed an attachment to you, and I’ve never seen that before. Which is why I don’t think anyone in the world can manage him except for you.” “Even if that’s true,” Poppy managed to say, “I don’t know if I want to manage him.” “Ma’am . . .” Valentine said feelingly, “Someone has to.” Amusement broke through Poppy’s distress, and she ducked her head to hide a smile. “I’ll consider it,” she said. “But at the moment I need some time away. What do they call it in the rope ring . . . ?” “A breather,” he said, bending to pick up her valise. “Yes, a breather. Will you help me, Mr. Valentine?” “Of course.

For many people, money is an index of how successful one is. And so they fear competition and attach themselves to their shadows. Such path drives one towards materialism rather than spiritualism. So what’s the difference between such individuals and those that work in the hope of quitting their job? Well, the main difference is that materialist people separate the two realities in the hope they can earn money from the work they love and then quit the work they don’t like. And by creating such division they remain there, in the middle, trapped. They think that by following what they love to do, step by step, they’ll be guided towards the right direction. But if their thoughts were clear, they would know they’re diving themselves and perpetuating their fate, rather than solving it. They neglect the mental barriers stopping them from achieving their goal. And anyone is responsible for determining the result that one holds in his thoughts. In other words, if you had not made such division in the first place, and instead accepted the lack of duality, you would achieve your result much faster. That is why almost all entrepreneurs rather work hard and be poor when starting a business than waiting for the right time to quit their job. There’s not such thing as the right time, or a shift from one reality unto another, because you create both things, your fortune and your unfortunate, and you own your luck and results, all the time. Whatever you believe in present time, perpetuates that same present time.

His eyes are so beautiful and dark and they do look like that dog’s—I mean, that wolf’s. They are kind and strong and a little bit something else and I like them. I like them a lot. No, I like them way too much. Something inside me gets a little warmer, edges closer to him. The fire crackles and I jump again, jittery, nervous, but I don’t jump away from Nick. I jump toward him. Nick in the firelight with just a blanket on is a little hard to resist, no matter how crazy he might be. His skin, deep with heat, seems to glisten. His muscles are defined and good but not all steroid bulky. He is so perfect. And beautiful. In a boy way. Not a monster way. Not a wolf way. “Are you going to kiss me?” My words tremble into the air. He smiles but doesn’t answer. “I’ve never kissed a werewolf before. Are were kisses like pixie kisses? Do they do something to you? Is that why you never kissed anybody?” He gives a little smile. “No. It’s just I never kissed anyone because I never thought I could be honest about who I am, you know? And I didn’t want anyone to get attached to me because . . .” “Because you’re a werewolf.” “Because I’m a werewolf,” he repeats softly. Watching his lips move makes me shiver; not in a scared way, in more of an oh-he-is-too-beautiful way. I put my hand against his skin. It is warm. It’s always been warm. He smells so good, like woods and safety. I swallow my fear and move forward, and my lips meet his, angel-light, a tiny promise. His lips move beneath mine. His hands move to my shoulders and my mouth feels like it will burst with happiness. My whole body shakes with it. “Wow,” I say. “Yeah,” he says. “Wow.” Our mouths meet again. It’s like my lips belong there . . . right there. One tiny part of me has finally found a place to fit.

You can have Fitzy feed you the rest of these when I’m gone—otherwise I’m going to puke. Right now, we need to find Krakie a new home.” He grabbed a roll of wide gauze from one of the shelves and wrapped it carefully around her left wrist to form a loose-fitting cuff. Then carefully attached each of the pins. “Is that a K ?” Fitz asked, tilting his head to study the new arrangement. Keefe nodded. “Best letter in the whole alphabet! But don’t worry, Foster, this isn’t like when Dizznee gave you those bracelets.” “What bracelets?” Fitz asked. Keefe had the wisdom to look sheepish. “They were . . . a prototype,” Sophie told Fitz. “Dex has been trying to design a gadget to help me control my enhancing, and he needed something to camouflage what they were, so he used some bracelets he’d bought.” Fitz’s eyebrows shot up. “Cloth bracelets?” She was pretty sure he already knew the answer. But even if he did, she’d promised Dex she wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened between them. “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. “They . . . didn’t work.” “In more ways than one,” Keefe said under his breath—but Fitz still must’ve heard him. His eyes narrowed. “How do you know so much about it?” Keefe shrugged. “I’m the reigning president of the Foster Fan Club. It’s my job to know these things. But don’t worry, Fitzy, you’re still the runner-up.” If he’d been standing any closer, Sophie would’ve smacked him. But he was just out of her reach. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be teasing Fitz,” Sophie reminded him instead. “I’m not, but . . . he makes it so easy.” Fitz rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I can’t remember why we’re friends.” “Pretty sure everyone wonders that at some point,” Ro pointed out. Keefe flashed the smuggest of smiles. “It’s because I make everything better.

Anyone can tell that Freddy is no thief.” “She’s right about that,” the dull-witted Freddy put in helpfully. “I’ve got two left feet-can’t go anywhere without running into something. That’s probably why they caught me.” “Ah, but in cases like this, the fools generally prevail. Those fellows out there don’t care about the truth. They just want your cousin’s blood.” Panic showed in her face. “You mustn’t let them have it!” He stifled a smile. “I could put in a good word for him, soothe their tempers and get you two out of this with your necks attached. If…” She instantly stiffened. “If what?” “If you accept my proposition.” A fetching blush spread over her pretty cheeks. “I shan’t give up my virtue, even to save my neck.” “Did I say anything about giving up your virtue?” She blinked. “Well…no. But given the kind of man you are-“ “And what kind is that?” This should be amusing. “You know.” She tipped up her chin. “The kind who spends his time in brothels. I’ve heard all about you English lords and your debauchery.” “I don’t want your virtue, my dear.” He flicked his glance down her delectable body and suppressed a sigh. “Not that I don’t find the idea tempting, but right now I have more urgent concerns.” And no man of rank was fool enough to seduce a virgin-that was the surest way to end up leg-shackled to a schemer. Besides, he preferred experienced women. They knew how to pleasure a man without plaguing him about his feelings. “This may surprise you,” he went on, “but I rarely have trouble finding women to join me willingly in bed. I’ve no need to force a pretty thief there.” “I’m not a thief!” “Frankly, I don’t care if you are. The important thing is that you suit my purpose perfectly.” She had the same brash temperament as his sisters, which Gran had always deplored. She had the sort of upbringing that Americans seemed to prize and Englishmen to despise. A mother who’d been a shopkeeper’s daughter, and a father who’d been an illegitimate American of no consequence? Who’d fought in the very revolution that had cost Gran her only son? He couldn’t ask for better.

Maddy’s going to pop soon,” Cooper said, finishing his beer and getting ready to head out. “Tucker is attached to her. It’s pretty fucking adorable. The guy about wets his pants every time she makes any noise that might be labor pain.” “You’ll be an uncle soon.” “I’m already an uncle,” Cooper mumbled, sliding on his jacket. “I just can’t hold the kid yet.” “You and Farah still planning on trying?” “No planning. We’re just trying now. She’s off the pill. Whenever it happens, it’ll be cool. Farah worries she’ll suck at being a mom. Can you believe that shit?” Cooper asked as his dark eyes warmed at the thought of his wife. “The way she takes care of Sawyer and me and everyone else and she thinks she’ll be a bad mom. These girls with their shit families get all fucked up in the head and no logic is going to fix it. They just need to face their fears and see how amazing they are when their idiot parents aren’t around to fuck things up.” “Should I fix things for Lark?” “I don’t know. If it was me, I’d go smack her stupid brother and father around. I don’t know if that’d be a good idea though. Those fucks aren’t low life drifters like Farah’s parents. That Larry asshole is a respectable member of the community. If you want to smack him around, you’ll need to do it in a more subtle way. Of course, if he ever fucks with you, we can just remind Mister Upstanding how his kind doesn’t run Ellsberg. It’s us dirty biker types who keep his house from burning down or his head from getting cracked open. If it comes down to it, I’ll help you take him down. Pop says behave. I say I’ve got my bud’s back.” Grinning, I shoved him away from me. “Crap. I’m worried you might hug me next.” “I was thinking about it,” Cooper said, smiling. “Farah’s turned me all nice and shit. I’m getting manners too. It’s disgusting.” “Horrifying,” I teased. “Thanks for the offer, but I feel like Lark needs to make a move. If she needs me to, I’ll burn down houses and crack open skulls. Right now, I feel like maybe she needs to find her way back to me. If she does, I’m keeping her and ruining anyone who tries to take her away.” “Now, there’s the punk ass jerk I became friends with.

Although a youth culture was in evidence by the 1950s, the first obvious and dramatic manifestation of a culture generated by peer-orientation was the hippie counterculture of the 1960s and 1970s. The Canadian media theorist Marshall McLuhan called it “the new tribalism of the Electric Age.” Hair and dress and music played a significant part in shaping this culture, but what defined it more than anything was its glorification of the peer attachment that gave rise to it. Friends took precedence over family. Physical contact and connection with peers were pursued; the brotherhood of the pop tribe was declared, as in the generation-based “Woodstock nation.” The peer group was the true home. “Don't trust anyone over thirty” became the byword of youth who went far beyond a healthy critique of their elders to a militant rejection of tradition. The degeneration of that culture into alienation and drug use, on the one hand, and its co-optation for commercial purposes by the very mainstream institutions it was rebelling against were almost predictable. The wisdom of well-seasoned cultures has accumulated over hundreds and sometimes thousands of years. Healthy cultures also contain rituals and customs and ways of doing things that protect us from ourselves and safeguard values important to human life, even when we are not conscious of what such values are. An evolved culture needs to have some art and music that one can grow into, symbols that convey deeper meanings to existence and models that inspire greatness. Most important of all, a culture must protect its essence and its ability to reproduce itself — the attachment of children to their parents. The culture generated by peer orientation contains no wisdom, does not protect its members from themselves, creates only fleeting fads, and worships idols hollow of value or meaning. It symbolizes only the undeveloped ego of callow youth and destroys child-parent attachments. We may observe the cheapening of cultural values with each new peer-oriented generation. For all its self-delusion and smug isolation from the adult world, the Woodstock “tribe” still embraced universal values of peace, freedom, and brotherhood. Today's mass musical gatherings are about little more than style, ego, tribal exuberance, and dollars.

you'll wonder again, later, why so many psychologists remain so vocal about having more and better training than anyone else in the field when every psychologist you've ever met but one will also have lacked these identification skills entirely when it seems nearly every psychologist you meet has no real ability to detect deception. You will wonder, later, why the assessment training appears to have been reserved for the CIA and the FBI is it because we as a society don't want to imagine that any other professionals will need the skills? And what about attorneys? What about training programs for guardian ad litems or anyone involved in approving care for all the already traumatized and marginalized children? You'll have met enough of those children after they grow up to know that when a small girl experiences repeated rapes in a series of households throughout her childhood, then that little girl is pretty likely to have some sort of "dysfunction" when she grows up. And you won't have any tolerance for the people who point their fingers at her and demand that she be as capable as they are it is, after all, a free country. We all get the same opportunities. You'll want to scream at all those equality people that you can't ignore the rights of this nation's children you can't ignore them and then get pissed when any raped and beaten little girls and boys grow up to be traumatized and perhaps hurtful or addicted adults. No more pointing fingers only a few random traumatized people stand up later as some miraculous example of perfectly acceptable societal success and if every judgmental person imagines that I would be like that I would be the one to break through the barriers then all those judgmental people need to go back in time and prove it, prove to everyone that life is a choice and we all get equal chances. You'll want anyone who talks about equal chances to go back and be born addicted to drugs in complete poverty and then to be dropped into a foster system that's designed for good but exploited by people who lack a conscience by people who rape and molest and whip and beat tiny little six year olds and then you will want all those people to come out of all that still talking about equal chances and their personal tremendous success. Thank you, dear God, for writing my name on the palm of your hand. You will be angry and yet you still won't understand the concept of evil. You'll learn enough to know that it's not politically correct to call anyone evil, especially when many terrible acts might actually stem from a physiological deficit I would never use the word evil, it's not professional but you will certainly come to understand that many of the very worst crimes are committed by people who lack the capacity to feel remorse for what they've done on any level. But when you gain that understanding, you still will not have learned that these individuals are more likable than most people that they aren't cool and distant that they aren't just a select few creepy murderers or high-profile con artists you won't know how to look for a lack of conscience in noncriminal and quite normal looking populations no clinical professors will have warned you about people who exude charm and talk excessively about protecting the family or protecting the community or protecting our way of life and you won't know that these types would ever stick around to raise kids you will have falsely believed that if they can't form real attachments, they won't bother with raising children and besides most of them will end up in prison you will not know that your assumptions are completely erroneous you won't understand that many who lack a conscience keep their kids close and tight for their own purposes.

• No matter how open we as a society are about formerly private matters, the stigma around our emotional struggles remains formidable. We will talk about almost anyone about our physical health, even our sex lives, but bring depression, anxiety or grief , and the expression on the other person would probably be "get me out of this conversation" • We can distract our feelings with too much wine, food or surfing the internet, • Therapy is far from one-sided; it happens in a parallel process. Everyday patients are opening up questions that we have to think about for ourselves, • "The only way out is through" the only way to get out of the tunnel is to go through, not around it • Study after study shows that the most important factor in the success of your treatment is your relationship with the therapist, your experience of "feeling felt" • Attachment styles are formed early in childhood based on our interactions with our caregivers. Attachment styles are significant because they play out in peoples relationships too, influencing the kind of partners they pick, (stable or less stable), how they behave in a relationship (needy, distant, or volatile) and how the relationship tend to end (wistfully, amiably, or with an explosion) • The presenting problem, the issue somebody comes with, is often just one aspect of a larger problem, if not a red herring entirely. • "Help me understand more about the relationship" Here, here's trying to establish what’s known as a therapeutic alliance, trust that has to develop before any work can get done. • In early sessions is always more important for patients to feel understood than it is for them to gain any insight or make changes. • We can complain for free with a friend or family member, People make faulty narratives to make themselves feel better or look better in the moment, even thought it makes them feel worse over time, and that sometimes they need somebody else to read between the lines. • Here-and-now, it is when we work on what’s happening in the room, rather than focusing on patient's stories. • She didn't call him on his bullshit, which this makes patients feel unsafe, like children's whose parent's don’t hold them accountable • What is this going to feel like to the person I’m speaking to? • Neuroscientists discovered that humans have brain cells called mirror neurons, that cause them to mimic others, and when people are in a heightened state of emotion, a soothing voice can calm their nervous system and help them stay present • Don’t judge your feelings; notice them. Use them as your map. Don’t be afraid of the truth. • The things we protest against the most are often the very things we need to look at • How easy it is, I thought, to break someone’s heart, even when you take great care not to. • The purpose on inquiring about people's parent s is not to join them in blaming, judging or criticizing their parents. In fact it is not about their parents at all. It is solely about understanding how their early experiences informed who they are as adults so that they can separate the past from the present (and not wear psychological clothing that no longer fits) • But personality disorders lie on a spectrum. People with borderline personality disorder are terrified of abandonment, but for some that might mean feeling anxious when their partners don’t respond to texts right away; for others that may mean choosing to stay in volatile, dysfunctional relationships rather than being alone. • In therapy we aim for self compassion (am I a human?) versus self esteem (Am I good or bad: a judgment) • The techniques we use are a bit like the type of brain surgery in which the patient remains awake throughout the procedure, as the surgeons operate, they keep checking in with the patient: can you feel this? can you say this words? They are constantly calibrating how close they are to sensitive regions of the brain, and if they hit one, they back up so as not to damage it.

I once worked in a doll factory. First they make the soft cloth body and then they sew in the delicate porcelain feet and hands. The hair goes on after the faces have been painted and attached. Afterwards they clothe it, and it is ready. If you think about it, we’re the same. Step by step we are being refined. All of us are at different stages of perfection. Are you better than your friend because she has not yet her hair and you do? Don’t ever despise or judge anyone. The condition of being human is hard, but here’s the really nice bit – no one ever falls by the wayside. All will make it to perfection. God doesn’t love me any better than he does you or her. We are all his children.

She caught a smile in his eyes that flashed at her in the light. “What? What are you grinning about?” “It’s meant to be attractive to my wife,” he said. Katsa nearly dropped her knife into the fire. “You have a wife?” “Great seas, no! Honestly, Katsa. Don’t you think I would have mentioned her?” He was laughing now, and she snorted. “I never know what you’ll choose to mention about yourself, Po.” “It’s meant for the eyes of the wife I’m supposed to have,” he said. “Whom will you marry?” He shrugged. “I hadn’t pictured myself marrying anyone.” She moved to his side of the fire and sliced the other drumstick for herself. She went back and sat down. “Aren’t you concerned about your castle and your land? About producing heirs?” He shrugged again. “Not enough to attach me to a person I don’t wish to be attached to. I’m content enough on my own.” Katsa was surprised. “I had thought of you as more of a—social creature, when you’re in your own land.” “When I’m in Lienid I do a decent job of folding myself into normal society, when I must. But it’s an act, Katsa; it’s always an act. It’s a strain to hide my Grace, especially from my family. When I’m in my father’s city there’s a part of me that’s simply waiting until I can travel again. Or return to my own castle, where I’m left alone.” This she could understand perfectly. “I suppose if you married, it could only be to a woman trustworthy enough to know the truth of your Grace.” He barked out a short laugh. “Yes. The woman I married would have to meet a number of rather impossible requirements.

According to you,” Cam went on, “You don’t attach to anyone. Ever. But we slept together Hunter. And that’s no euphemism. We slept in each other’s arms and we both attached and I don’t want to hear any bullshit about it.

One might wonder: "What good is Zen then, at least as a religion, if it cannot provide us with knowledge about what happens after we die?" But does anyone really know what happens after we die? Of course, one may believe in a Heaven and a Hell, or in rebirth as a human or other kind of being; or one may not believe in such things. But does anyone really know? One may desperately desire there to be an afterlife, and one may give this desperate desire a nice name like "hope" or "faith" rather than a naughty one like "craving" or "attachment." In any case, we have to admit that we don't really know what happens to us after death—or even if anything at all does happen to us. I think the harder and deeper question about death is this: Once we admit that no one really knows what happens, what comportment should we take toward death? Is there a wisdom in the face of death that is not a matter of knowledge about the afterlife?

You have to stop letting the swipe rule your life by equating a man’s behavior with your worth. How he acts or doesn’t act says way more about him than it does about you. Sometimes guys ghost and disappear and you never hear from them again and it makes zero sense. But unless you’re acting needy or clingy, or you’re getting way too attached and too serious, too fast and scaring him off, it’s not about you at all. This is just the modern dating game. HIM disappearing doesn’t mean YOU’RE not “worthy.” It means he wasn’t the right person for you. Not everyone you date is the right person. In fact, there are a lot more wrong ones than right ones! Like we talked about in chapter 1, you have to master the art of catch and release. If they act up or ghost or are halfhearted—release them and move on. But stop taking it as an indication of your worth, because the two things are completely separate. And if you don’t know that, then you need to step away from dating and go to therapy and do the hard work on yourself until you are so secure in who you are, no one can shake it. There was a time when I allowed rejection to cause me to question myself too, but I ultimately decided I wasn’t going to allow dating or any man or anyone on this planet to make me feel less than. It’s almost never about you. Your worth is a fixed point and doesn’t change based on someone’s inability to see it. Now go forth and date in power, gorgeous!

Many parents think it does. When they want to underscore the importance of a given instruction, they attach some dreadful outcome to it: “Come right home; you don’t want to get kidnapped,” “Don’t go there alone; remember, anyone could be a killer,” and on and on. There

The British public first fell in love with Jamie Oliver’s authentic, down-to-earth personality in the late ‘90s when he was featured in a documentary on the River Café. Jamie became a household name because of his energetic and infectious way of inspiring people to believe that anyone can cook and eat well. In his TV shows and cookery books and on his website, he made the concept of cooking good food practical and accessible to anyone. When Jamie Oliver opened a new restaurant in Perth, it naturally caused a bit of a buzz. High-profile personalities and big brands create an air of expectation. Brands like Jamie Oliver are talked about not just because of their fame and instant recognition, but because they have meaning attached to them. And people associate Jamie with simplicity, inclusiveness, energy, and creativity. If you’re one of the first people to have the experience of eating at the new Jamie’s Italian, then you’ve instantly got a story that you can share with your friends. The stories we tell to others (and to ourselves) are the reason that people were prepared to queue halfway down the street when Jamie’s Italian opened the doors to its Perth restaurant in March of 2013. As with pre-iPhone launch lines at the Apple store, the reaction of customers frames the scarcity of the experience. When you know there’s a three-month wait for a dinner booking (there is, although 50% of the restaurant is reserved for walk-ins), it feels like a win to be one of the few to have a booking. The reaction of other people makes the story better in the eyes of prospective diners. The hype and the scarcity just heighten the anticipation of the experience. People don’t go just for the food; they go for the story they can tell. Jamie told the UK press that 30,000 napkins are stolen from branches of his restaurant every month. Customers were also stealing expensive toilet flush handles until Jamie had them welded on. The loss of the linen and toilet fittings might impact Jamie’s profits, but it also helps to create the myth of the brand. QUESTIONS FOR YOU How would you like customers to react to your brand?

This is the revolution in the mind which i believe is necessary: white people discovering and expressing our self-worth as individuals, not by taking up more space than our identity requires (in which case we value the appendages and attachments to our personhood more than we do the actual self), but by taking up less space. This goes back to the main principle of humanity: people should live the way they want to live. Nobody should stop you, but you should also not stop anyone else. For too long this has been one-sided. You may disagree with me: your view has value. It is your view. But it is a view which extends beyond yourself, and how you control your own life, to how you control the lives of others.  And this (i believe) is colonial thinking. You may have noticed how i keep saying things like “i feel,” “it’s my opinion” and “i believe.”  This is intentional.  Usually one tries to win an argument by sticking to the facts.  “Facts are facts.”  If we’re only arguing about our opinions or feelings regarding the facts, we won’t get anywhere.  Just argue about the facts.  But i’m not trying to win an argument.  Because i believe (and there goes another “i believe”) people actually don’t hold a lot of their views based on facts.  We hold our views, and we live our lives, according to how we feel about things.  So i believe it’s important that we are simply honest about how we feel and then live according to these feelings, which are our truth.  And this means i want you to respond to the way i feel and begin to process these feelings through your own truth, whatever that is. I want us to hear what Black people have been living through and try to feel their experience in the context of our individuality, and then translate these feelings into behavior or social action.  That is, once we know how people feel—truly feel— our reality is altered.  This change is not only related to the facts of an agreed-upon reality (and it seems we agree upon very little) but is related as well to how we feel once we know how other people feel, and how this shared feeling shapes our future actions toward them.  We change what we want to do, not because we’ve been hit over the head with facts, but because we choose to feel differently about ourselves and everyone around us.

I cannot marry you,” she told the clump of toadstools flourishing at its base. “I’m so terribly sorry. I should have told you years ago, but—” “For God’s sake, Cecily.” His soft laugh startled her, and she lifted her gaze. “You can’t do this, not yet. How can a lady refuse a man, when he hasn’t even proposed? I won’t stand for it.” “It’s not right, Denny. I’ve known for some time now that we wouldn’t . . . that I couldn’t . . .” He shushed her gently, placing his hands on her shoulders. “The truth is, we know nothing of what could be or would be. We’ve been delaying this conversation for years now, haven’t we? I’ve been waiting for . . . Well, I hardly know what I’ve been waiting for. Something indefinable, I suppose. And you’ve been waiting for Luke.” Her breath caught. Denny knew? Oh, dear. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so surprised. They’d grown up together. He’d known her longer than anyone. “Yes, of course I knew,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “Why do you think I invited you both here, to my home? I wanted to know how matters stood between you.” “And how do they stand?” she asked, hoping he would understand her better than she knew herself. He sighed. “I know he has some strange hold on your heart. But I believe you’d be happier marrying me.” Cecily shook her head in disbelief. If she didn’t know better, she would think him working in concert with Luke. Their arguments were one and the same. “But, Denny . . .” She prayed these words would not hurt his pride overmuch. “But we don’t love one another, not in that way.” “Perhaps not. But you’ve been in love with Luke for four years now. Has it made you happy?” She had no answer to that. “And I’ll admit, bachelorhood is losing its charms for me.” Gently, he folded her hands in his. “I know there is no grand passion between us, Cecily. But there is genuine caring. Honesty. Respect. Lasting unions have been built on foundations far weaker than these. And in time, perhaps some deeper attachment would grow. We don’t know what could happen, if only we gave it a chance.” He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them warmly—first the knuckles, then each sensitive palm—before pressing them to either side of his face and holding them there. The sweetness in the gesture surprised her, as did the fond regard in his eyes. This was Denny’s face she held in her hands. Dear, familiar, uncomplicated Denny, with the dimple on his right cheek and the tiny pockmark on the other. She’d known this face since her childhood. Could she learn to see to him in a new light, as a husband? She did want children and companionship and a happy home—all the things Luke refused to offer her. She sighed. “I don’t know what to say.” “That’s all right. I’m not asking you to say yes, not right now. Just . . . don’t say no quite yet?” He smiled then, that crooked, endearing Denny smile. And he kissed her, still holding her hands pressed against his face. It was sweet. He tasted of tea and peppermint, and his lips felt soft and warm. Denny’s kiss was mild, tender. Comforting and comfortable. And it was wretchedly unfair to him, that even as he claimed her lips, her heart remained divided. She couldn’t stop comparing this kiss to Luke’s. It just wasn’t the same. “Do

You’re just annoyed because you can’t find a way to be in charge and control this whole thing and it’s making you jumpy.” Kerry considered that, relented a little. “Maybe.” “And because we all like him. A lot. And you’re feeling overly nudged.” “Nudged?” Kerry repeated, eyebrow raised. “How about all but shoved down the aisle? You know, just because you’re all schmoopy and wedding obsessed doesn’t mean the rest of us live to follow in your pearl-and-laced-encrusted footsteps.” Fiona just batted her lashes again. “Oh, come on. You love the schmoopy. You just don’t want to admit it. And you don’t have to go all pearls and lace. I’m sure we can find something in a tasteful banana leaf gown for you.” Kerry nudged her sister with a sharp elbow--it was that or snicker--but Fiona just nudged back, and clung to her arm like a kelp bed attached to the seafloor. “And, okay,” Fiona added, “perhaps we’re just enjoying seeing you so out of your depth. Between that and Cooper’s full-on pursuit, I can see it’s enough to make anyone a little grumpy.” She squeezed Kerry’s arm, then added, “Ms. I Can Run Circles Around the Globe But Not Around Mr. Dead Sexy Accent.” Kerry gave up, as she always did, in the face of Fiona’s unrelenting cheer and pulled her in for a quick, if purposely smothering hug. “Don’t say anything to Fergus,” she whispered against Fiona’s hair before turning her sister loose. “He’s already stuck his nose in way too far, and you know he’ll just worry about me.” Fiona laughed. “You’re the only one Fergus never worries about. And don’t kid yourself about slowing his roll; he’s thrilled--thrilled--finally to have the chance to stick his nose in your business. Do you think anything will stop him from ‘helping’ you make the right choice?

Why don’t you have a girlfriend, Matt?” I ask. And I really want to know, because it’s unfathomable to me that he’s single. He’s handsome, and he’s so kind. He shakes a finger at me. “There’s a story there,” he says. I settle into the sofa a little deeper and turn so that my feet are pointed toward him, my legs extended. My toes almost touch his thigh. But then he lifts my feet and slides under them, scooting closer to me. “I was in love with a girl. For a long time.” “What happened to her?” I ask. He starts to tickle across my toes, and then his fingertips drag down the top of my foot. It’s a gentle sweep, and it feels so good that I don’t want him to stop. His fingers play absently as he starts to talk. “When I got the diagnosis,” he says, “she couldn’t deal with it.” “Cancer?” I ask. He nods. His fingers drag up and down my shin, and he slides around to stroke the back of my knee. I don’t stop him when his hand slides beneath my skirt, although I do tense up. He smiles when he finds the top of my thigh-highs, and he unclips the little fastener that attaches them to my garters. He repeats the action on the other side, his hands teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh as he frees the stocking and rolls it down. He pulls it all the way over my foot, and does the same with the other side. I am suddenly really glad I shaved my legs this morning. I wiggle my toes at him, and he starts to stroke me again. I don’t ever want him to stop. “This okay?” he asks. But he’s not looking at my face. He’s looking at my legs. “Yeah,” I breathe. “Keep talking. You got diagnosed…” “I got diagnosed, and the prognosis wasn’t good. I went through chemo and got a little better. But then I needed a second round. Things didn’t look good, and we were flat broke. I couldn’t work at the tattoo parlor anymore because my immune system was too weak, so I had no money coming in. I was poor and sick, and she didn’t love me enough to walk the path with me.” He shrugs, but I can tell he’s serious. “She cheated with my best friend.” He shrugs again. “And that’s the end of that sad story.” “You still love her?” I ask. I don’t breathe, waiting for his answer. He shakes his head and looks up. “I did love her for a long time. And I haven’t been looking for a relationship. I haven’t dated anyone since her. But I’m not in love with her anymore. I know that now.” “Why now?” I ask. He looks directly into my eyes and says, “Because I met you, and I feel really hopeful that you’ll want to go after something real with me. I know we just met and all, but I was serious about making you fall in love with me.” He laughs. “Then you hit me in the nose tonight, and I knew it was meant to be.” “What?” I have no idea what he’s talking about. “When my brother Logan met Emily, she punched him in the face. And when Pete and Reagan first started dating, she hit him in the nose.” He reaches up and touches his nose gently. “So, when you hit me tonight, I just knew it was meant to be.” He grins. “I hope you feel the same way, because I really want to see where this thing is going to go.” “So the women your brothers fell in love with, they committed bodily harm to them and that’s how you guys knew it was real?” “We kind of have a rule. If a woman punches you in the face, you have to marry her.” He laughs. “I didn’t punch you.” “Same difference,” he says. “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

You’re more attached than I thought. I have to say, I’m impressed.” I spun around, searching. Looking for anyone that might be watching. I saw nothing but brush and trees. “Give her back to me, right now.” He laughed. “No, I don’t think so. You had your chance.” “You want the money? Fine, it’s yours.” I didn’t care anymore. I’d worry about nailing him after he got the cash. Kaitlyn was my top priority. She had to be terrified. And I did this. I failed her.

Don’t attach yourself to anyone who shows you the least bit of attention because you’re lonely. Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. And intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.

Consider the source. Criticism from your parents or in-laws can be a delicate problem, as can criticism from anyone whose opinion you value. Feelings run deep, especially between mother and daughter, and gaining your parents’ approval of your parenting style may mean a lot to you. It helps to put yourself in your mother’s place and realize that she may think you are criticizing her when you make choices different from the ones she made. Remind yourself that she did the best she could given the information available to her. Your mother (or mother-in-law) means well. What you perceive as criticism is motivated by love and a desire to pass on experiences that she feels will help you and your children. Be careful not to imply that you are doing a better job than your own mother did. Don’t be surprised if your parents don’t buy AP. It’s not because they’re against it; they probably don’t understand it. If you think it would be helpful, share information with them and explain why you care for your baby in the way you do. But don’t argue or try to prove that you’re right. When you anticipate a disagreement, the best course is to avoid the issue and steer the conversation toward a more neutral topic.

Why should God make me born in this world here and suffer, and what is he trying to prove here, if I am not born here I would have been happy.... Hmm... I never got any proper answer from anyone and I don't believe an answer logically (the logic here, to the extend, I and you can understand) can be given here! God performs his duty of creation, sustenance and destruction of living organisms in a materialistic environment, without any attachment and without any results in his intellect, he is keeping doing it.

Braid groups have many important practical applications. For example, they are used to construct efficient and robust public key encryption algorithms.7 Another promising direction is designing quantum computers based on creating complex braids of quantum particles known as anyons. Their trajectories weave around each other, and their overlaps are used to build “logic gates” of the quantum computer.8 There are also applications in biology. Given a braid with n threads, we can number the nails on the two plates from 1 to n from left to right. Then, connect the ends of the threads attached to the nails with the same number on the two plates. This will create what mathematicians call a “link”: a union of loops weaving around each other. In the example shown on this picture, there is only one loop. Mathematicians’ name for it is “knot.” In general, there will be several closed threads. The mathematical theory of links and knots is used in biology: for example, to study bindings of DNA and enzymes.9 We view a DNA molecule as one thread, and the enzyme molecule as another thread. It turns out that when they bind together, highly non-trivial knotting between them may occur, which may alter the DNA. The way they entangle is therefore of great importance. It turns out that the mathematical study of the resulting links sheds new light on the mechanisms of recombination of DNA. In mathematics, braids are also important because of their geometric interpretation. To explain it, consider all possible collections of n points on the plane. We will assume that the points are distinct; that is, for any two points, their positions on the plane must be different. Let’s choose one such collection; namely, n points arranged on a straight line, with the same distance between neighboring points. Think of each point as a little bug. As we turn on the music, these bugs come alive and start moving on the plane. If we view the time as the vertical direction, then the trajectory of each bug will look like a thread. If the positions of the bugs on the plane are distinct at all times – that is, if we assume that the bugs don’t collide – then these threads will never intersect. While the music is playing, they can move around each other, just like the threads of a braid. However, we demand that when we stop the music after a fixed period of time, the bugs must align on a straight line in the same way as at the beginning, but each bug is allowed to end up in a position initially occupied by another bug. Then their collective path will look like a braid with n threads. Thus, braids with n threads may be viewed as paths in the space of collections of n distinct points on the plane.10

What’s that?” “It’s brownies. You know, the frosted kind. The ones that fulfill every chocolate fantasy. Unless you don’t like chocolate. But of course you do. Everyone likes chocolate. Wait, do you like chocolate? Oh, and nuts? Do you like nuts?” His scowl deepened as he glanced from side to side to see if anyone was within earshot. “I like nuts. Unless they’re attached to a dude. - Viv and Kane

Know the bondage and attachments from inside and from root to be free. Don't waste time on leaves of life, Awake and cut the root of all web of illusions. Awake and the karma breaks. Awake and the illusion breaks. Awake and the fate breaks. Knowledge is fake and worthless if it can not erase and wipe away false knowledge and free you from illusion of knowledge. Awake and librate from Web of illusions don't catch one after another. Don't control things in you. Know them and let be, witness each of them. The only sin in this world is, Not sowing Seed of Awakening. Rest are just your actions and perceptions in sleep and illusion. Only your own attainment of knowledge and truth can give you liberation not of somebody elses. Knowledge of somebody else will only give illusion of knowledge. If you are believing in mine or anyone's beliefs and thoughts then you are imprisoned by illusions of freedom, thought and Bondages. You are only free when you believe by your own experiences. Know ego, Let your body fall. Let your mind fall, know soul. Know spirit, let your soul fall. Let illusion fall, know consciousness. Know consciousness & let your spirit fall. Egoless, greedless & desireless state of consciousness can liberate soul. Love and Meditation are two Main gates of Awakening and Liberation. Witness everything and awake from the sleep of illusions of world and liberate. Wars in the world will never come to an end until the war inside the mind is perished. Transformation of soul and consciousness will start with the Awakening fire inside, and burn the negativity and remove the darkness. illusion of knowledge, play of words, blind faith, and superstitious beliefs, kill your journey of self discovery of self transformation of Awakening. The whole world has been slaved into union on basis of thoughts, beliefs, Faith, religions, caste, creed, regions and other worthless words. One will achieve freedom only when, one gave up the illusion of words created by mind, people, and World, else one will be always bound to words and it's prison. Let go words and knowledge, Know the silence, be the silence, and you will free from illusion of words and knowledge. Enslavement of words and illusion of words will be one day responsible for the destruction of the world. All prisons are in mind and due to mind. If mind is enslaved one cannot be free. Freedom is a inner state of mind and consciousness into silence and bliss. Where Perception of Death is Lost and Life is Known As It is, Salvation is Achieved. Faith is backbone of all religions. Let the faith fall and start the process transformation of the Awakening. Truth can be only Know by rejecting the Blind faith and beliefs. Only then can be the path of Truth can be achieved. Truth is pathless, because it is right here. Path is a outward thing, inner process of knowing oneself is a different thing. Religion can only take place in an Awakened consciousness. Service to needy must be done intentionlessly else it is worthless. Every act done unconsciously is act of sleep. Awake and be Aware. Transforming broken situations of life in act of facing, withstanding and winning is guide by master. If you let love kill you inside you have not known love as it is.

In a use-it-or-lose-it fashion, the new frontal lobe connections we use are preserved and quickened. Those we don't use just waste away through pruning. We become what we hear and see and do every day. …Twentysomethings who use their brains by engaging with good jobs and real relationships and the 'real world' are learning the language of adulthood just when their brains are primed to learn it.

I don’t understand emotions,” he began, interlinking his fingers. “I never have. I don’t find them particularly useful for myself, so I have never been attached to anyone either. People have been either useless or useful to me.

They aren't poor because they don't try hard, don't work hard, aren't deserving of better things. May Pat can look at almost anyone she's ever known in Commonwealth in particular, or Southie in general, and find nothing but strivers, ballbusters, people who treat ten-ton burdens like they weight the same as a golf ball, people who go to work day in, day out, and give their ungrateful-prick bosses ten hours of work every single eight-hour day. They aren't poor because they slack off, that's for fucking sure. They're poor because there's a limited amount of good luck in this world, and they've never been given any. If it doesn't fall from the sky and land on you, doesn't find you when it wakes up every morning and goes looking for someone to attach itself to, there isn't a damn thing you can do. There are way more people in the world than there is luck, so you're either in the right place at the right time at the very second luck shows up, for once and nevermore. Or you aren't.

Danny used one of the most powerful defences known in psychology: depersonalization. He cut off all his feelings. It was the perfect armour. The only problem with his perfect weapon was that he could barely attach to anyone, or feel life’s pleasures. As he said at the beginning of our work together, “I don’t need joy.” He was right, in a way. Is it better to feel or to maintain your sanity?

The only heels I care about are the ones on your dainty feet. I don’t give a fuck about anyone else’s, or who the fuck they’re attached to. You know, you’re really cute when you get all jealous, like a kitten showing her claws.” “I’m not jealous,” I say too quickly, but my heart goes pitter-patter at his confession.

My company provides personal guarding services to foreign dignitaries, billionaires, politicians, sports teams, movie and Broadway stars---" "Movie and Broadway stars?" Zara grabbed his tie and yanked him forward until they were almost nose to nose. "Names. Give me names. Who have you guarded? A-list? B-list? Anyone from Hamilton?" Her full attention was on him now and it was hard not to get pulled into the depths of her liquid brown eyes. "Our client list is confidential." "Did you work for Lin-Manuel Miranda?" She tipped her head back and gave the kind of groan he'd only ever heard from a woman between the sheets. "What was he like? Tell me. No. Don't tell me. We're in public and I can't be responsible for what might happen if you do." His mouth opened but no words came out. He'd convinced himself there was no chemistry between them. But now, with her face only inches away, he was almost overwhelmed with the desire to taste the curve of her lips. "C'mon, Jay." She leaned close, the gold flecks in her eyes sparkling, her voice a husky purr that he felt as a throb in his groin. Had he ever met a woman with eyelashes so long? He could swear that every time she blinked, they swept over her cheeks. "Just one name," she pleaded. "One itty-bitty little name for me to fantasize about when I'm alone in bed tonight." She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, slow and sensual. "Or even better, an introduction. I'll make it worth your while." Jay swallowed hard, loosened his collar. Need, tightly controlled, began to unravel. He knew he shouldn't ask, but the words came out just the same. "What do you mean worth my while?" "What do you want, Jay?" Her breath whispered against his cheek. "What is your greatest desire? World domination? Ten glamor models in a limo? Your own island? An endless supply of samosas? Six blue silk ties? A perfectly balanced set of accounts? A night of hot sex, no strings attached...?

Lucy is no longer embarrassed, can talk about anything with him. In the beginning, it was a different story, a horror and humiliation that a benign pituitary macroadenoma—a brain tumor-was causing an over production of the hormone prolactin that fooled her body into thinking she was pregnant. Her periods stopped. She gained weight. She didn't have galactorrhea, or begin produce milk, but had she not discovered what was wrong when she did, that would have been next. "Sounds like you're not seeing anyone." He slides her MR films out of their envelopes, reaches up, and attaches them to light boxes. "Nope." "How's your libido?" He dims the lights in the office and flips on the light boxes, illuminating films of Lucy's brain. "Dostinex is sometimes called the sex drug, you know. Well, if you can get it." She moves close to him and looks at her films. "I'm not having sur gery, Nate." She stares dismally at the somewhat rectangular-shaped region of hy pointensity at the base of the hypothalamus. Every time she looks at one of her scans, she feels there must be a mistake. That can't be her brain. A young brain, as Nate calls it. Anatomically, a great brain, he says, t cept for one little glitch, a tumor about half the size of a penny I don't care what the journal articles say. No one's cutting on me How do I look? Please tell me okay," she says. Nate compares the earlier film to the new one, studies them side by side. "Not dramatically different. Still seven to eight millimeters. Nothing in the suprasellar cistern. A little shift left to right from the infundibu lum of the pituitary stalk." He points with a pen. "Optic chiasm is clea Points again. "Which is great." He puts down the pen and holds up two fingers, starts with them together, then moves them apart to check her peripheral vision. "Great," he says again. "So almost identical. The lesion isn't growing." "It isn't shrinking." "Have a seat.

Your potential to create wealth is found between your education on how to make money, and your willingness to live in poverty. By education on how to make money, I am referring here to the many skills you need to acquire for a job, in communication, but also organizational and ethical skills. By willingness to live in poverty, I am referring here to the sacrifices you are willing to make. You see, people fear poverty as if they could avoid it, but the one who escapes it faster, is the one who embraces it better. This means spending as less as possible in your habits, not worrying about what others think of you, and committing yourself to become a servant, even a slave, to your higher self. The reason why so many people struggle to accumulate wealth, is because they are avoiding both of these things just mentioned. They don't want to work, for themselves or others, they aren't willing to make sacrifices, they care a lot about what others think of them, they don't want to save any money, they spend without any sense of responsibility, and they also have no interest in investing on their education, either through formal means or by reading books. Most people don't read, they are waiting for the world to offer them the solutions they want, and the trust luck and shortcuts more than they trust their own capacity to achieve things with their own efforts. That's why they can't get to where they want in life. What I just said, can be applied to any other area of life. Even a good marriage requires education on how to make it work and sacrifices to make it work, and just as much as a dog will require you to sacrifice your time and learn better ways of communicating with him. Your own existence depends on a balance of an education on opportunities and a commitment to find them. So what is the most imbecile thing anyone can tell you? The most dumb persons you will ever find, are those who tell you the exact opposite of what I just said, and in doing so, separate everything in different categories. They will say that happiness doesn't require wealth, or that wealthy individuals are miserable. They will say that love requires luck, or that education isn't necessary to become successful. And you have quite a bunch of idiots in this world, marketing their foolish views on others, as if they were absolute truth. You tend to buy into such views with the love and attachment you feel for them. Thus, be wary of the merchants of incompetence. They will try to sell you the most stupid ideas about life. And if you trust them, you will fail, and keep on failing, until you realize you trusted the wrong people. If you think education is expensive, know that stupidity is a lot more. It can cost you an entire existence in the dark. The path to enlightenment is a path of integration, while the distance is measured in segregations. Stupidity is found in the relativity of everything. The dumber one is, the more he or she will think in terms of differentiations. The wiser one is, the more he or she will focus on the similarities and correlations, because enlightenment is found in an upward route towards oneness.

Understanding Your Emotions Our emotions are wonderful tools. Being in touch with them allows us to experience life to the fullest. When we are aware, our emotions can teach us a variety of things. They can show us what we like and don't like, what's really important to us as opposed to what isn't, and they can provide a wonderful guide to discovering the work we are meant to do in the Dream of the Planet. For instance, when you are faced with an important decision and you are unsure of which course of action to take, one thing that can help you is to focus on how you feel about the options presented instead of being consumed with the stories your narrators are spouting. As you get to know yourself better, this type of discernment becomes a very effective tool for recognizing what you really want. In popular vernacular, this would be referred to as “listening to your heart instead of your head,” but it's really the Mastery of Self in action. Your emotions can also show you where you are still holding on to attachments and reveal any remaining fears and self-doubts from past domestications that you haven't yet released. Sometimes you won't even realize you have an attachment until an event triggers an emotional reaction in you. Anytime you feel a burst of anger, frustration, guilt, shame, or any number of other negative emotions, that's your cue to look within and see what is happening. Ask yourself questions like, Where is this feeling coming from? When have I experienced this before? What is the source of this feeling? Once you are aware of what's happening inside, you are able to calm yourself and stop the downward spiral before you lose control. While anger is a common emotional reaction, it is by no means the only one. Shutting down, being defensive or passive-aggressiveness, feeling guilty or remorseful, or any unhelpful reactions in between are additional ways in which you can react emotionally and lose awareness of your Authentic Self. Whether your tendency is to be consumed with anger and rage or to sulk silently in the corner, the underlying cause of all of these emotional reactions is always fear, the tool of conditional love. When fear overtakes you and sparks an emotional reaction, your attachments and domestications are now running the show, and unconditional love is cast to the wayside. Becoming a Master of Self is about noticing when you begin to have an emotional reaction and asking yourself immediately, “What am I afraid of?” The quicker you can identify and release the fear, the faster you become re-grounded in the Authentic Self. Any emotional reaction you experience is yours, not anyone else's, and consequently it is here to teach you something about yourself. The Master of Self sees this as an opportunity to learn and grow, and in doing so you can deal with these emotions before they lead to an outburst that causes harm to your Personal Dream or the Dream of the Planet.

I don’t want to shield him from the world. I just secretly want to punch anyone who doesn’t make him feel special in it.

IN THE DREAM OF the Planet there are two powerful forces that shape all our agreements, attachments, and domestication. In the Toltec tradition, we call these forces the two types of love: unconditional love and conditional love. When unconditional love flows from our hearts, we move through life and engage other living beings with compassion. Unconditional love is recognizing the divinity in every human being we meet, regardless of his or her role in life or agreement with our particular way of thinking. A Master of Self sees all beings through the eyes of unconditional love, without any projected image or distortion. Conditional love, on the other hand, is the linchpin of domestication and attachment. It only allows you to see what you want to see and to domesticate anyone who doesn't fit your projected image. It's the primary tool used to subjugate those around us and ourselves. Every form of domestication can be boiled down to “If you do this, then I will give you my love” and “If you do not do this, then I will withhold my love.” Every form of attachment starts with “If this happens, then I will be happy and feel love” and “If this does not happen, then I will suffer.” The key word in all of these statements is if, which, as you will see, has no place in unconditional love. As we construct the Dream of the Planet, we have a choice to love each other unconditionally or conditionally. When we love each other unconditionally, our mirror is clean; we see others and ourselves as we really are: beautiful expressions of the Divine. But when the fog of attachment and domestication clouds our perception and we put conditions on our love, we are no longer able to see the divinity in others and ourselves. We are now competing for a commodity that we have mistaken as love. At its core, domestication is a system of control, and conditional love is its primary tool. Consequently, the moment you start trying to control others is the same moment you place conditions on your love and acceptance of them. Because you can only give what you have, the conditions you try to impose on others are the same conditions that you impose upon yourself. When you self-domesticate, you are attempting to control your own actions based on shame, guilt, or perceived reward rather than unconditional self-love. As we saw in the example with the man who continues to eat even after he is full, this is neither a healthy nor happy way to live. Unconditional love is the antidote to domestication and attachment, and tapping into its power is a key step in becoming a Master of Self. In this chapter we will look at the practice of having unconditional love for ourselves first and foremost, as you cannot give to others what you don't have for yourself.

Prayer, meditation, and quiet moments of reflection are all ways to quiet the noise and let your soul receive answers that don't have anyone else's agenda attached to them.

You take each day as it comes. Healing isn’t linear, El. There’ll be days where the lightshine warms your face and others where you barely want to leave bed. But that is still moving forward. Don’t put expectations on yourself.” “You’re very wise, you know.” Enzo winked. “Not just a pretty face, am I? I’ve known much grief in my life, El. You are not alone in this, I promise.” “My mother always told me it was a curse to feel as deeply as I do. I loved her very much, but I think she was only capable of loving me in her own way, rather than as I needed to be.” “People can only meet you as deeply as they’ve met themselves.” Elara nodded. “So I locked all these emotions behind a wall. They still bubble around under the surface. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to skim over the surface of life, to never have known pain and sorrow, to not be so attached.” Enzo pulled her away roughly and tilted her chin. “Don’t you ever let anyone tell you that feeling too much is a weakness. Do you know how much strength it takes to feel every ebb and flow of life? To keep your heart open? You treasure it, Elara. There aren’t many who possess such a gift.” Her eyes brightened slightly. “Sometimes it just feels like such a burden.” He looked at her, his eyes so open and trusting that she ached. “Then let me help carry it.

I’m not suggesting that you juggle a dozen different guys and put your heart on the line, emotionally attaching yourself to every single one of them—far from it. You can play the field without trying to date the whole team! All I’m suggesting is that you try a bit to ease off the frantic search for happily ever after and start being happy right now. Allow yourself to date some “wrong” people. Spend time with people whose company you happen to enjoy, even if you don’t see yourself marching down the aisle with them tomorrow. Maintain a healthy perspective on dating and stop setting your heart, your soul, your emotions, and especially your self-worth out on the line with every single person you encounter. When the time is right, you will know, and the safeguards you’ve put in place will fall away naturally. But until then—relax! Have fun! Be yourself in an outfit you didn’t go out and buy specifically for the date. I have found, oddly enough, that most men tend to think women look a lot cuter in sweats and a ponytail than in a little black dress and Louboutins, anyway. (But ultimately, you should always dress for you and not for someone who may or may not end up becoming a significant part of your life.) Most of all, no more letting the swipe rule your life. Stop looking for any dating app or anyone you might meet on a dating app to bring you the happiness and completeness you should be giving yourself. Engage, converse, get out of your safe little comfort zone, and just get to know people with no other agenda than getting to know people. Approach dating from a place of, Do I like him? instead of always obsessing over, Does he like me? Sometimes we get so caught up in trying to make a good impression on someone we don’t even stop to ask ourselves if we are impressed with them. Finally, stop looking to every person to be the great love of your life, and allow dating to be a great adventure in your life. You’ll likely make some amazing friends out of it, you’ll definitely get some great stories out of it, and, who knows . . . having the time of your life just might lead you to the love of your life.

Without You Everything Is Hideous How are you? , sweetheart, here I am writing these letters and your thought does not leave me and here you are still the closest to me since that day, which did not end until now. I scatter my letters in front of your beautiful eyes to tell you that I am wrong and guilty ; Although I have not forgotten you for a moment, even while I am trying to convince myself that everything is finished from your point of view, but I make up for it and say well, this is enough for me to try to snatch her icy heart again, this heart that loved me with all sincerity that innocent childish heart that never hated One even over the one who is because of him has left me for a long time due to false suspicion I remember all your letters, so I read them from time to time How nice it was to call me a childish nickname - capturing like your cheeks a happy nickname. You didn’t know all my reasons, sweetie I indirectly told you about the biggest reason when I told you to read “So Forgive Me ”You are the most beautiful thing that has happened to me since I knew you. My beauty, today I want to tell you that you forgot something one day. You asked me: Have you loved before? So I told you : Yes I did it was a long time ago when I was a teenager; I never thought that I would love again after I was wounded by that deep wound, when I was left alone, the wolves of loneliness and separation scattered me, and no one comes to me to pull me from the bottom of the debris that happened in my heart, And to be honest, I was not afraid for myself as much as I feared for your tender heart; I don’t ever want to be the lover who leaves his lover, especially if it is you. My beautiful woman, I wanted to make sure that my heart never beats for anyone but you It’s not easy, believe me I admire you since we became close, since we started speaking in the innocent language of children, since you used to say to me you are late to respond, even if I was late for a few seconds since night became for us a second day we talk about it until dawn and more Since you were quarreling with others trying to make them understand my point of view. How delicious days were when you looked at me from a distance and smiled, and when I heard your laughter as much as I was jealous, my heart beat with joy All your conditions were beautiful even when you quarreled with me I am not here trying to tell you that I am innocent, I am not I hurt you many times but I swear it was not with intent They were rather fleeting and spontaneous things. I admit that I have hurt your pride and here I am now bearing the consequences of this matter, and I swear it is not an easy thing. But, my flower, when you told me that excuse to stay away from me for three months, it smashed me, how can someone take my moon from me? The one that shone my eyes and melted the ice around my heart after my heart became so attached to her that I became so addicted to her that when I talk to any girl I call her by your name. My little girl I lost my love previously, and I do not want to lose you, because I know that you are a twin of my soul, even if you deny this now, but in the depths of your heart you know the validity of this matter. I apologize for every moment that made you think with pain I just wanted to protect you from fleeting feelings or just those feelings that were attracted to you And I know you crave someone to love you just because you are beautiful I wanted to protect you from the feelings of a teenager And if it was a year or less late to reveal it You know that valuable things no matter how late they are, their value will be better, finer, sincere and thinner, and you deserve strong, sincere feelings that stem from the depths of the heart and from the depths of the soul feelings befitting you I see in you all the beauties in life And without you, everything is Hideous You have all my feelings, beautiful cheeks.

I don’t want to think the spirit world is so dark and confusing that ghosts need to anchor themselves to me or anyone else to in order to have hope. I don’t want to think that the living is their beacon of light and that’s why they can’t let go of us. I believe instead that the spirits who attach themselves to the living are just confused and unaware of their surroundings and want someone to tell them what’s going on.

On a scale of one to ten, how strong is the emotion attached to the memories we’ve been working on?” Curtis Rouanzoin asks one day. The procedure I’ve been going through with him is called EMDR, or eye movement desensitization and reprocessing, which looks at the way trauma is stored in the brain and attempts to properly process it. “If it used to be a ten, now it’s an eight,” I tell him. Lindsay Joy Greene is trained in a therapy called SE, or somatic experiencing, and she’s been locating trauma trapped not in my brain, but in my body, and releasing the stored energy. One day she asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how much anger do you feel when you recall the memories we’ve been discussing?” “If it used to be an eight, now it’s a seven,” I tell her. Olga Stevko practices her own variant of NLP, or neuro-linguistic programming. Where the experientials with Lorraine were about debugging my operating system, her process is about rewriting the original code. For example, she tells me that inside my mother’s words, “Never grow up to make anyone as miserable as your father makes me,” was a hidden command: Never grow up. As she helps me grow up, it brings my trauma down to a six. Greg Cason specializes in cognitive behavioral therapy, which takes it to a five. And I don’t know what to call Barbara McNally’s method and her bottomless quiver of techniques, but they work, they’re original, and they bring the emotion associated with those memories to a four. And I do so much more: I beat pillows with baseball bats. I tap on energy meridians. I make shadow maps of my dark side. I try psychodrama. Not all of it works, but none of it hurts.

Don't let anyone fool you. All friendships need to be based on attachment or they have a shaky foundation.

When we depend on anything turning out a certain way or believe that it must turn out that way, we are deluding ourselves. When we buy into expectations and ideas about life and what should happen, and they then don't come to fruition as we had wished or planned, we often feel disappointed - but not because of trust. Not because life or anyone has done anything wrong. Rather, we suffer in those moments because of our perspective, our expectations, and our attachments to beliefs, people and so on.

Let me ask you: When you spend money, do you write your name on it before you do? When you're paid money, do you write your name on it? No, you don't. You wouldn't do that, because you are going to use it for something, and if you're going to use it for something, it would be a bit weird if you tried to label it. After all what is the plumber going to do with a bunch of bills with your monogram emblazoned on them? We are not the owners of money, but we are the facilitators of money. We are all responsible for creating whatever amount of money we are currently creating. We are all responsible for circulating money in whatever way we are currently circulating it. And this flow of money is different for everyone. This is freeing for me. How about you? The thought, belief, and knowing that money is not mine or yours to attach to and own. It's entrusted to me on a loan from Source. I have it to play with and to create the life that brings me the most joy, the most health, the most freedom and choice. I have it for my time here on Earth and can use it as a valuable member of my team to create the change I wish to see while I'm here.

That means it’s all over,” I said with suppressed desperation. “Not at all,” he replied. “You must simply be firm. There’s still a way. In my opinion, there’s always a way if we’re not senseless enough to destroy ourselves. Listen to me carefully. Michel’s a splendid fellow, kind and noble, with the tender heart of a woman. But his character contains the terrible seed of all sorts of unhappiness: he’s weak-willed and compliant. I know his aunt. He’ll never have the resolve to tell you, and I’ve remained silent to this point, but now I’ll tell you everything, in order to save you both. His aunt is a withered, inflexible, resolute old woman: she’s always exerted great influence over him. He’s simply afraid of her and lacks the strength to oppose her: not now, of course, not at the very first moment of outrage and suffering, but afterward, à la longue. He’ll be terribly unhappy because he loves you passionately and sincerely, and yet, in spite of all that, he’ll submit to his aunt’s influence without fail. You must save him and yourself.” “But how?” I asked. “You surprise me. I always thought his aunt loved him inordinately.” “Yes, indeed she does; but there are quite a few people on earth who love in a very strange way, under certain conditions, more for themselves than for those they love. Don’t you know what prejudice is all about? Michel entered this struggle carelessly, without taking anything into consideration, under the influence of his first real attachment. But this struggle will be beyond his strength: he won’t withstand it if you don’t support him. If you leave him to his own devices or consign him to his aunt’s control, she’ll demolish both of you.” “You’re destroying me,” I said. “What can I do? I have no power when faced with this.” “Not at all. On the contrary, you’re stronger than anyone else. Michel loves you more than anyone in the world; he’s ready to do anything for you. Give him the will; don’t do anything to discourage him. On the contrary, give him strength.” “You’re not being clear. Explain yourself,” I said. “He wants to carry you off and marry you in secret.” “My God!” I said. “Is it really possible?” “Why not? It’s altogether possible. In three or four days everything will be ready. Nobody will grieve over you: nobody at home loves you. It’s the only way out. You must take it. Later, perhaps, even if you wanted to, it will be too late. Honestly, listen to me. We’ll come tomorrow to hear your answer.

Lucy shook her head. ‘How can you say that love’s a crime?’ ‘Love was Satan’s deadliest gift to mankind. When Pandora opened her box, the first and greatest evil to fly out was love.’ ‘I don’t understand.’ ‘Love is the glue that keeps souls attached to this world, stuck in this hell. It mires us in misery. Love glitters and seduces. No one would endure one moment of this hell if they felt nothing but the pain. It’s the love that allows people to bear it. Love traps us, keeps us in the snares of the material world, this false world of the false god. Yet you, better than anyone, know that the underside of love is pain, the worst pain of all.’ Lucy looked away. Morson, in his mad way, was right. Love is poison. A beautiful poison, but poison all the same. The first taste might be paradise, but what followed was hell.

The philosopher: 'Love is a passionate commitment' 스페니쉬판매,스페니쉬파는곳,스페니쉬구입방법,스페니쉬구매방법,스페니쉬복용법,스페니쉬부작용,스페니쉬판매사이트,스페니쉬약효,스페니쉬후기 The answer remains elusive in part because love is not one thing. Love for parents, partners, children, country, neighbor, God and so on all have different qualities. Each has its variants – blind, one-sided, tragic, steadfast, fickle, reciprocated, misguided, and unconditional. At its best, however, all love is a kind a passionate commitment that we nurture and develop, even though it usually arrives in our lives unbidden. That's why it is more than just a powerful feeling. Without the commitment, it is mere infatuation. Without the passion, it is mere dedication. Without nurturing, even the best can wither and die. 우선 클릭해서 감사드립니다.클릭한만큼 제품도 실망드리지 않습니다.정품진품으로 확실한 약효를 보여드리는곳입니다 팔팔정,구구정,네노마정,프릴리지,비맥스,비그알엑스,엠빅스,비닉스,센트립 등 많은 제품 취급합니다 원하신분들 지나가지 마시고 연락 주시구요,최선을 다해 단골님으로 모셔드리겠습니다 Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. 비아그라가격,시알리스가격,레비트라가격,구구정가격,팔팔정가격,엠빅스가격,비닉스가격,센트립가격,센돔가격,포르테라가격 Design is not just what it looks like and feels like. Design is how it works. We're here to put a dent in the universe. Otherwise why else even be here? The only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. The romantic novelist: 'Love drives all great stories' What love is depends on where you are in relation to it. Secure in it, it can feel as mundane and necessary as air – you exist within it, almost unnoticing. Deprived of it, it can feel like an obsession; all consuming, a physical pain. Love is the driver for all great stories: not just romantic love, but the love of parent for child, for family, for country. It is the point before consummation of it that fascinates: what separates you from love, the obstacles that stand in its way. It is usually at those points that love is everything. The nun: 'Love is free yet binds us' Love is more easily experienced than defined. As a theological virtue, by which we love God above all things, it seems remote until we encounter it enfleshed, so to say, in the life of another – in acts of kindness, generosity and self-sacrifice. Love's the one thing that can never hurt anyone, although it may cost dearly. The paradox of love is that it is supremely free yet attaches us with bonds stronger than death. It cannot be bought or sold; there is nothing it cannot face; love is life's greatest blessing.

We all attach ourselves to things, when it ends, The withdraws and detox are often too difficult to face. So we keep moving, taking our baggage and secrets with us, shoving them in the deepest corners of our hearts. Never talking to God, never telling anyone of our true burdens because we don't take the time to learn them ourselves.

Breathing in the seawater scent of him, she sighed, “Terrible dream.” “I can banish it with you, if you’d like.” “How do I do that?” His thumb moved along her cheek again, so gentle that it made her feel fragile in his grip. “You share the dream, kefi. You tell me what it means, where it came from, and then I take it into the sea. The next time I am in the abyss, I will leave it there for you.” Ace opened her eyes, smiling at him even though it hurt to do so. “I don’t think I want to talk about it.” “Then that’s all right too.” He tried to smile, but she could see the pain in his eyes. “You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to.” Damn it, those tears burned her eyes again. She couldn’t be weak like this. This was why she’d never gotten attached to anyone. If she was weak, then she would cry, and nothing would get done. She had to bury it all deep inside herself, even if it meant that she constantly had stomach aches and felt like her chest was on fire.