Gladly Quotes

I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.

I am always saying "Glad to've met you" to somebody I'm not at all glad I met. If you want to stay alive, you have to say that stuff, though.

Be glad. Be good. Be brave.

Let others praise ancient times; I am glad I was born in these.

Rhysand stared at me for long enough that I faced him. "Be glad of your human heart, Feyre. Pity those who don't feel anything at all.

I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say.

I missed you," I whisper against his skin and feel dizzy with the intimacy of the admission, feel more naked than when he could see every inch of me. "In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you." "My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned.

Max: "Okay guys, I had a couple thoughts I wanted to go over with you." Iggy: (pretends to snore loudy) Max: (throws another pinecone at him) Iggy: "Quit throwing things at me!" Max: "Glad you could join us.

I'm glad you misdialed." "Well. Easy mistake to make," she said. Might do it again." A very, very long pause. She opened her mouth to fill it, then changed her mind and didn't. She was shivering again, even though she wasn't cold with the pillow on her legs. "Shouldn't," Gansey said finally. "But I hope you do.

Here too it’s masquerade, I find: As everywhere, the dance of mind. I grasped a lovely masked procession, And caught things from a horror show… I’d gladly settle for a false impression, If it would last a little longer, though.

A rationalist is simply someone for whom it is more important to learn than to be proved right; someone who is willing to learn from others - not by simply taking over another's opinions, but by gladly allowing others to criticize his ideas and by gladly criticizing the ideas of others

Get moving. We need to find that stag so I don’t have to chop your head off.” “I never said you had to chop my head off,” I grumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and stumbling after him. “Run you through with a sword, then? Firing squad?” “I was thinking something quieter, like maybe a nice poison.” “All you said was that I had to kill you. You didn’t say how.” I stuck my tongue out at his back, but I was glad to see him so energized, and I suppose it was a good thing that he could joke about it all. At least, I hoped he was joking.

Why do we romanticize the dead? Why can't we be honest about them? Especially moms. They're the most romanticized of anyone. Moms are saints, angels by merely existing. NO ONE could possibly understand what it's like to be a mom. Men will never understand. Women with no children will never understand. No one buts moms know the hardship of motherhood, and we non-moms must heap nothing but praise upon moms because we lowly, pitiful non-moms are mere peasants compared to the goddesses we call mothers.

I’m sure everyone’s sorry and said they’re sorry, and you’ve heard it a thousand times. We all mean well, by the way. We just don’t have words.” I rubbed a hand over my forehead. Maybe that was the end of it. A little different than the standard lines. She meant well. Good talk. “It’s fine. Most people just say ‘sorry.’ I don’t need a speech.” “I’m not, though.” Her hair swished against my arm as she shook her head. “It’s sad your mother died. It is. Because of all the things she’ll miss. It’s very sad. But, I’m glad she lived.”  

You're a Homeric scholar?' I might have said yes, but I had the feeling he'd be glad to catch me in a mistake and he would be able to do it easily. 'I like Homer' I said weakly. He regarded me chill distaste. 'I love Homer' He said.

Of course, if you...if you don't want to," he says into the silence, sliding his gaze away from me, "I can accept that. I won't bring it up again. I know I'm not....I know what I'm like. That I'm infuriating. And selfish. And cruel. I know I'm not perfect the way my brother is, and I manage to disappoint my parents every time. It's okay if you don't choose me, really—I never expected to be the first choice. I wouldn't blame you‚—" "I do choose you." He doesn't seem to hear me at first. He's still talking, rambling really, the words flowing out like rainwater. "I can't always say pretty things, and sometimes I tease you when really I just want you to look my way, and—wait." He stops. Even his breath freezes in his throat. "What...did you just say? Say it again." "I choose you," I say quietly, glad for the shadows concealing my flushed cheeks. For the support of the wall behind me. "You will always be my first choice, Julius Gong.

I am glad you are no relation of mine. I will never call you aunt again as long as I live. I will never come to visit you when I am grown up; and if any one asks me how I liked you, and how you treated me, I will say the very thought of you makes me sick, and that you treated me with miserable cruelty. . . . You think I have no feelings, and that I can do without one bit of love or kindness; but I cannot live so: and you have no pity. I shall remember how you thrust me back . . . into the red-room. . . . And that punishment you made me suffer because your wicked boy struck me—knocked me down for nothing. I will tell anybody who asks me questions this exact tale. ’Ere I had finished this reply, my soul began to expand, to exult, with the strangest sense of freedom, of triumph, I ever felt. It seemed as if an invisible bond had burst, and that I had struggled out into unhoped-for liberty. . . .

Wen considered the nature of time and understood that the universe is, instant by instant, recreated anew. Therefore, he understood, there is, in truth, no past, only a memory of the Past. Blink your eyes, and the world you see next did not exist when you closed them. Therefore, he said, the only appropriate state of the mind is surprise. The only appropriate state of the heart is joy. The sky you see now, you have never seen before. The perfect moment is now. Be glad of it.

I miss her and I miss her and I miss her," she began. "And I wait for the feeling to end because every other feeling has ended, no matter how intense, no matter how hard - but this won't. There's just no end to the missing. There was life before and there's life now. And I can't seem to accept it. I can't accept that I'll have to miss her forever. There will never be relief. There will never be a reunion. And I wish I had a God. I wish I believed in an afterlife or something, anything. But when I try to talk to her in my head, there's no response. I can't hear her. And I can't feel her. All I have is this missing. And part of me is glad it won't end because it's all I have to connect me to her now.

But they had found the Tansy Patch a charming place and were glad to go again. For the rest of the vacation there was hardly a day when they did not go up to it-- preferably in the long, smoky, delicious August evenings when the white moths sailed over the tansy plantation and the golden twilight faded into dusk and purple over the green slopes beyond and fireflies lighted their goblin torches by the pond.

I dare not dream of hope, for i am not worthy of it. But after a word from you i can accept my poverty again; i shall joyfully endure my hopeless lot. I shall face the struggle; i shall be glad of it; i shall rise up again with renewed strength.

June The sun is rich And gladly pays In golden hours, Silver days, And long green weeks That never end. School’s out. The time Is ours to spend. There’s Little League, Hopscotch, the creek, And, after supper, Hide-and-seek. The live-long light Is like a dream, and freckles come Like flies to cream.

I should've know all along that you were liggabit. (lgbt) Really? how so? he whispered. You ask so many damn questions. Normal boys don't ask so many questions.

I don’t understand it,” Hans Castorp said. “I never can understand how anybody can not smoke—it deprives a man of the best part of life, so to speak—or at least of a first-class pleasure. When I wake in the morning, I feel glad at the thought of being able to smoke all day, and when I eat, I look forward to smoking afterwards; I might almost say I only eat for the sake of being able to smoke—though of course that is more or less of an exaggeration. But a day without tobacco would be flat, stale, and unprofitable, as far as I am concerned. If I had to say to myself to-morrow: ‘No smoke to-day’—I believe I shouldn’t find the courage to get up—on my honour, I’d stop in bed. But when a man has a good cigar in his mouth—of course it mustn’t have a side draught or not draw well, that is extremely irritating—but with a good cigar in his mouth a man is perfectly safe, nothing can touch him—literally. It’s just like lying on the beach: when you lie on the beach, why, you lie on the beach, don’t you?—you don’t require anything else, in the line of work or amusement either.—People smoke all over the world, thank goodness; there is nowhere one could get to, so far as I know, where the habit hasn’t penetrated. Even polar expeditions fit themselves out with supplies of tobacco to help them carry on. I’ve always felt a thrill of sympathy when I read that. You can be very miserable: I might be feeling perfectly wretched, for instance; but I could always stand it if I had my smoke.

I love you. I’m sorry you got wrapped up in all this madness, but the other part of me is glad you’re by my side. We’re better together.

Being Willing to Ask for Help • I’ll ask for help whenever I need to. • I’ll remind myself that if I need something, most people will be glad to help if they can. • I’ll use clear, intimate communication to ask for what I want, explaining my feelings and the reasons for my request. • I’ll trust that most people will listen if I ask them to.

Dancing and swimming - those are two things I'll never pass up. I figure when I'm old, I'll look back on my life and be glad that I enjoyed my body while I could.

He was nineteen, in the midnight of his childhood and a lifetime from first light. He had not been forgiven and neither are you.

It was only when he glimpsed, between the rail ties, the river swirling so massive below, a place you could slip cleanly into, that something in him both jolted and withered at once.

Someone really needs to knock you down a few pegs, pretty boy.” I elbow his stomach and give his shoulder a light shove as I push past him. He stumbles on his feet and falls onto his ass. I look down at him with an innocent smile. “Oops. I tripped.” “Glad to know you still think I’m pretty.” His grin is proud as he stretches out on the ice, a long-limbed starfish. “Game on, Hartwell. I hope you’re ready for war.” “I always win, Miller,” I say as I skate toward my bag, glad to leave him behind.

We are intrinsic. Fated. Destined. Or maybe we’re simply mad. But I’ll gladly live insane if in the end, it gives me him.

Oh, you wicked wicked little thing!” cried Alice, catching up the kitten, and giving it a little kiss to make it understand that it was in disgrace. “Really, Dinah ought to have taught you better manners! You ought, Dinah, you know you ought!” she added, looking reproachfully at the old cat, and speaking in as cross a voice as she could manage—and then she scrambled back into the arm-chair, taking the kitten and the worsted with her, and began winding up the ball again. But she didn’t get on very fast, as she was talking all the time, sometimes to the kitten, and sometimes to herself. Kitty sat very demurely on her knee, pretending to watch the progress of the winding, and now and then putting out one paw and gently touching the ball, as if it would be glad to help if it might.

I’m pregnant. I need an abortion. As soon as feasibly possible.” I stare. Who…? But then, it doesn’t matter, does it? I’m doubly glad I chose not to call my mother now, because I can’t guarantee what she would do with this information. The pregnancy has to be caused by someone in Minos’s household, and I highly doubt it’s Theseus. Of the other three men left living with her, two of them are related to Ariadne. While I can’t rule anything out, I don’t think Minos is guilty of that. And Icarus certainly isn’t. Which leaves the Minotaur.

She is the siren at the bottom of the sea, calling me to my own reckoning. And like the carnal creature I am, I would gladly drown.

I’m sort of glad they’ve got the atomic bomb invented. If there’s ever another war, I’m going to sit right the hell on top of it. I’ll volunteer for it, I swear to God I will.