Her Vol 2 Quotes

Everyone has the right to make his own decisions, but none has the right to force his decision on others.

One day she looked up and discovered an opening in her planet. She wondered if she wasn't alone after all.

I don't want to lose her. I don't want to give up the blissful feelings I have whenever I am near her.

Why do I keep thinking of her alluva sudden?! Especially when the only time my face gets red and my heart starts puonding...is when I see him! -Syaoran Li

Buddy, I don't mean to poke my nose in where it don't belong, but that there is a dame to kill for. Why'd you let her go?

Beauty without wit offers love nothing but the material enjoyment of its physical charms, whilst witty ugliness captivates by the charms of the mind, and at last fulfills all the desires of the man it has captivated... Let anyone ask a beautiful woman without wit whether she would be willing to exchange a small portion of her beauty for a sufficient dose of wit. If she speaks the truth, she will say, "No, I am satisfied to be as I am." But why is she satisfied? Because she is not aware of her own deficiency. Let an ugly but witty woman be asked if she would change her wit against beauty, and she will not hesitate in saying no. Why? Because, knowing the value of her wit, she is well aware that it is sufficient by itself to make her a queen in any society.

Sierra felt full of hope and confidence in God. She knew who she was. And she knew Whose she was. Whatever mysterious plan God had for her life, it would be an interesting one. As Christy had said earlier, God writes a different story for each person. Sierra decided hers might not be a bestseller or even a thriller. It certainly wasn't a romance. But it was turning into a fine mystery. And she could live with that.

The wheel turns for all, caro Chase. It’s the karma effect,” Giulia cried, aping Ilenia. She could have never imagined that her words would become prophetic so soon.

Paoletta turned to him with a dark face. Chase had never seen her look so foreboding. “You’d better watch out, Chase. He’s passed over to the evil side.

The river of life divides into two branches: being and formulating.

Strong doesn’t describe her, she defines strong.

You are not a fool for being fooled by a fool.

Don't let any crumbs of attention he throws at your feet cause you to bow down to his curse again. I know you are hungry for love, but he has proven time and time again that he cannot bring enough to the table to feed you.

We're all leaving now", Blue Eyes whispered to her. "Together. Out the front door. Scream, and we'll kill you here and now. "Or later", Willow suggested nervously. "Later would be a big improvement on that idea. We could meet back here in, say, an hour, and you can exhibit your homicidal tendencies then, okay? That would be way better for us.

Be honest with him, tell him you don't know how to love yet, even when it's everything you want.

I've Got Him! You've got to keep at her. Forget all your training--she's fought you a thousand times." "Don't presume to run my team, you little tart-" (Colossus throws Emma at Danger) "Yes. I see how it works. Normally, I wouldn't have done that.

It was your lack of effort that screamed "Let go!" and whispered, "Move on," to her ears. Not her friends, family, or possible replacement.

Mother Wolf, you called yourself. What does a wolf teach her pups but teeth and hunger? You didn't make me in your image. You made me into something worse. I have to know what that is.

If you run on lies long enough, they become your truth. Such delicate fabric we conceal our motives in. Colors to obscure the truth of our hearts. No one is a bad person in his or her own mind. We are all noble protagonists.

To me...she was spring. It was as if while imprisoned inside the dark cage of the inner family...I had completely frozen into snow...and then there she was--fresh, clear spring. It was almost inevitable that..I would fall in love with her. -Hatori

Things can be seen better in the darkness," he said, as if he had just seen into her mind. "But the longer you spend in the dark, the harder it becomes to return to the world aboveground where the light is. You have to call a stop to it at some point.

Some irony. The girl who couldn't face her own bullshit . . . suddenly forcing everyone else to.

anger and love cannot grow in the same garden.

She will remember the moments you made her feel loved more than the times you said, “I love you.

It is silly to convince her that she is a sinner for being able to love so devotedly. It may not be normal to you, but let it be to her.

They wrapped her corpse in silver, a shroud in moonglow made... with an Ancient's chain they lowered her, while in pain their eyes did fade. Oh now the storm is raging, the ship has seen its last, and she will never see the sun... as long as the bones stand strong and fast.

Junko: That sort of thing happens all the time. You get drunk on your own "correctness," and the more stubborn you get, the further happiness flies away from you. It's a bitter pill to swallow. Madoka: I wonder if there's any way I can help... Junko: Even good advice from others won't bring any clear solutions to someone in that frame of mind. ...Even so, you want to find a solution? Then go ahead and screw up. If she's being too correct, then somebody should make mistakes for her. Madoka: I should screw up...? Junko: Yep! Tell a really bad lie. Run away in the face of something scary. She may not understand what you're trying to do at first, but there are times when you realize in hindsight that a mistake was the right thing to do... During those times when you're just stuck for an answer, making a mistake is one method of unsticking yourself. Madoka, you've grown up to be a good kid. You don't tell lies, and you don't do bad things. You're a girl who works hard at what she thinks is right. You get an "A" as a child. So before you become an adult, you have to start practicing falling down. You see, we adults have our pride and responsibilities, so it becomes harder and harder to make mistakes.

He kept thinking about Mary. What a fool he'd been to let her go. To think, with the thoughtless assurance of youth, that the world was replete with endless possibilities. He'd thought it a mistake to choose so early in life and embrace the present good. He'd been a great one for looking for greener pastures. He'd kept looking until all his pastures were brown with time. ("Old Haunts")

I sound like a sulky teenager, don’t I?” “You’re more angsty than Edward Cullen on a sunny day.” Their laughter filled the car, releasing the ball of nervousness that churned in her stomach during the ride. No matter what she did, there would be a fight. Resigned, Mel took a deep breath.

You’ve actually just reminded me. I brought you something.” She had finally assembled the first two issues of the Dr. Eleven comics, and had had a few copies printed at her own expense. She extracted two copies each of Dr. Eleven, Vol. 1, No. 1: Station Eleven and Dr. Eleven, Vol. 1, No. 2: The Pursuit from her handbag, and passed them across the table.

Because no girl should have to ditch their friends just because her boyfriend says so.

You remind me of my late sister, little one. As I once told her, the headstrong may win many battles... but only the strong of heart will survive the war.

there are hints in the songs she loves, they may make your ears bleed; but, they will help you interpret the words buried under her tongue and the caged thoughts of her mind.

young love is beautiful, but old love is real.

you don't need closure to find happiness again, you need to find reasons to start a new chapter, and put down that old book. here is one reason, you deserve to be happy.

If I'm not 100% comfortable in her world and she's not 100% comfortable in mine...then we'll make our own world.

Her mother was fine. Her mother was always fine. Fine was her way of saying she didn't exist.

What does a wolf teach her pups but teeth and hunger? You didn't make me in your image. You made me into something worse.

Why wouldn’t I dare?” Chu Wanning gazed at her, unimpressed. “What ought I be afraid of?” He paused, then pulled Mo Ran closer. “Listen up: This person is mine. I’m taking him.

Her principal tutor, Roger Ascham, reported that at the age of sixteen ‘the constitution of her mind is exempt from female weakness, and she is endowed with a masculine power of application.

He was naked as a jaybird and covered in filth. He moved towards her with the same eerie grace that he had scaled the side of the barn, stopping to sniff the wind and look suspiciously around...His eyes were not yellow now; they were as black as his hair.

...Maybe she did bring you into the world and raise you. But just 'cos she's your "family" doesn't mean it's okay for her to do or say whatever she wants. It's never okay. Expecting someone to smile and say thank you to their family, when that "family" is just stepping all over them--- that's just abuse. It's just a curse.

She was reasonable and rational, even through the tears. I hurt her. I know I hurt her. All I felt was anger. I wanted to yell and break stuff. Be demonstrative. Because she was being... she was so adult. And I just felt like a stupid kid. I didn't want to be in our empty place so I did what I do, I went to the movies. I wanted a big dark room to cry in.

My dear Mina, why are men so noble when we women are so little worthy of them? Here was I almost making fun of this great hearted, true gentleman. I burst into tears, I am afraid, my dear, you will think this a very sloppy letter in more ways than one, and I really felt very badly. Why can’t they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble?

What are you?' She asked. He shot her a brief glance and looked away. He stared at the scenery of the pastures and distant rows of trees. She knew he was not going to answer the question. In the brightening daylight, she could see that most of the blood on him was restricted to his mouth and hands. It dawned on her that it wasn't his blood, but the blood of something he had caught and eaten.

I think of her as a best seller, handwritten by God on pages made from his magnificent robe. her choices are every word. her eyes are every page. her heart is an untold story. each chapter may have missing paragraphs, but the further you get inside the more she will become easily comprehended. I advise that you take your time with her; learning of her has to be a marathon or you'll sprint past some important details.

She gave me no advice; she urged no duty on me; she only told me, in her own fervent manner, what her trust in me was. She knew (she said) how such a nature as mine would turn affliction to good. She knew how trial and emotion would exalt and strengthen it. She was sure that in my every purpose I should gain a firmer and a higher tendency, through the grief I had undergone. She, who so gloried in my fame, and so looked forward to its augmentation, well knew that I would labour on. She knew that in me, sorrow could not be weakness, but must be strength. As the endurance of my childish days had done its part to make me what I was, so greater calamities would nerve me on, to be yet better than I was; and so, as they had taught me, would I teach others. She commended me to God, who had taken my innocent darling to His rest; and in her sisterly affection cherished me always, and was always at my side go where I would; proud of what I had done, but infinitely prouder yet of what I was reserved to do.

when you have to realize is that she remembers when it ended, it ended long before she left. she held on until her hand grew numb, until she grew too weak to hold on any longer. she had to convince herself far too many times to fight for practically nothing. the memories of how it started still have a special place in her mind, but you must know this: her leaving took wrestling against every part of herself. her leaving you is an act of love, realizing that she has to love herself more than she cares for you.

little Em’ly and I made a cloak of an old wrapper, and sat under it for the rest of the journey. Ah, how I loved her! What happiness (I thought) if we were married, and were going away anywhere to live among the trees and in the fields, never growing older, never growing wiser, children ever, rambling hand in hand through sunshine and among flowery meadows, laying down our heads on moss at night, in a sweet sleep of purity and peace, and buried by the birds when we were dead! Some such picture, with no real world in it, bright with the light of our innocence, and vague as the stars afar off, was in my mind all the way.

What, then, is this projection-making factor? The East calls it the “Spinning Woman”1—Maya, who creates illusion by her dancing. Had we not long since known it from the symbolism of dreams, this hint from the Orient would put us on the right track: the enveloping, embracing, and devouring element points unmistakably to the mother,2 that is, to the son’s relation to the real mother, to her imago, and to the woman who is to become a mother for him. His Eros is passive like a child’s; he hopes to be caught, sucked in, enveloped, and devoured. He seeks, as it were, the protecting, nourishing, charmed circle of the mother, the condition of the infant released from every care, in which the outside world bends over him and even forces happiness upon him. No wonder the real world vanishes from sight!

We’re going on strike,” I announced. “And we’re not coming back inside until Joey Harrington is suspended. I don’t know what else because I’m too angry to think!” Mr. Feinman stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Huh.” He looked at the other students. “Is that what you all want?” “Man!” Clyde exclaimed, shaking his head. “I’ve got some demands, all right.” “Are we going to get in trouble for missing class?” asked Samantha Klinger, one of the gamers who kept pink streaks in her hair. Mr. Feinman shrugged. “I’d say yes. The real question is what if you win?” “We need an anti-bully committee,” said Bryce Smith, a theater kid with thick glasses. “Made up of students and teachers so bullies have to answer to someone other than the principal. So there’s no favorites.” The class murmured an agreement. The students behind me seconded the motion. “So go,” Mr. Feinman said. “Go and fight for your education, then.

I was a bird. I lived a bird's life from birth to death. I was born the thirty-second chick in the Jipu family. I remember everything in detail. I remember breaking out of the shell at birth. But I learned later that my mother had gently cracked the shell first to ease my way. I dozed under my mother's chest for the first few days. Her feathers were so warm and soft! I was strong, so I kicked away my siblings to keep the cozy spot. Just 10 days after I was born, I was given flying lessons. We all had to learn quickly because there were snakes and owls and hawks. My little brothers and sisters, who didn't practice enough, all died. My little sister looked so unhappy when she got caught. I can still see her face. Before I could fly, I hadn't known that our nest was on the second-lowest branch of a big tree. My parents chose the location wisely. Snakes could reach the lowest branch and eagles and hawks could attack us if we lived at the top. We soared through the sky, above mountains and forests. But it wasn't just for fun! We always had to watch out for enemies, and to hunt for food. Death was always nearby. You could easily starve or freeze to death. Life wasn't easy. Once, I got caught in a monsoon. I smacked into a tree and lay bleeding for days. Many of my family and friends died, one after another. To help rebuild our clan, I found myself a female and married her. She was so sweet. She laid many eggs, but one day, a human cut down the tree we lived in, crushing all the eggs and my beloved. A bird's life is an endless battle against death. I survived for many years before I finally met my end. I found a worm at some harvest festival. I came fluttering down. It was a bad mistake. Some big guy was waiting to ambush hungry little birdies like me. I heard my own guts pop. It was clear to me that I was going to die at last. And I wanted to know where I'd go when I died.

On July 3, with Polk and Hardee safely across Sewanee Mountain and out of the unsprung trap Old Rosy had devised, Federal cavalry in heavy numbers forced the pass near Cowan, and as the rear-guard Confederate troopers fell back rapidly through the streets of the town a patriotic lady came out of her house and began reviling them for leaving her and her neighbors to the mercy of the Yankees. “You great big cowardly rascal!” she cried, singling out Forrest himself for attack, not because she recognized him (it presently was made clear that she did not) but simply because he happened to be handy; “why don’t you turn and fight like a man instead of running like a cur? I wish old Forrest was here. He’d make you fight!” Old Forrest, as she called him, did not pause for either an introduction or an explanation, though later he joined in the laughter at his expense, declaring that he would rather have faced an enemy battery than that one irate female.

Yes. She makes all our pastry, and does all our cooking.’ ‘Do she though?’ said Mr. Barkis. He made up his mouth as if to whistle, but he didn’t whistle. He sat looking at the horse’s ears, as if he saw something new there; and sat so, for a considerable time. By and by, he said: ‘No sweethearts, I b’lieve?’ ‘Sweetmeats did you say, Mr. Barkis?’ For I thought he wanted something else to eat, and had pointedly alluded to that description of refreshment. ‘Hearts,’ said Mr. Barkis. ‘Sweet hearts; no person walks with her!’ ‘With Peggotty?’ ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘Her.’ ‘Oh, no. She never had a sweetheart.’ ‘Didn’t she, though!’ said Mr. Barkis. Again he made up his mouth to whistle, and again he didn’t whistle, but sat looking at the horse’s ears. ‘So she makes,’ said Mr. Barkis, after a long interval of reflection, ‘all the apple parsties, and doos all the cooking, do she?’ I replied that such was the fact. ‘Well. I’ll tell you what,’ said Mr. Barkis. ‘P’raps you might be writin’ to her?’ ‘I shall certainly write to her,’ I rejoined. ‘Ah!’ he said, slowly turning his eyes towards me. ‘Well! If you was writin’ to her, p’raps you’d recollect to say that Barkis was willin’; would you?’ ‘That Barkis is willing,’ I repeated, innocently. ‘Is that all the message?’ ‘Ye-es,’ he said, considering. ‘Ye-es. Barkis is willin’.’ ‘But you will be at Blunderstone again tomorrow, Mr. Barkis,’ I said, faltering a little at the idea of my being far away from it then, and could give your own message so much better.’ As he repudiated this suggestion, however, with a jerk of his head, and once more confirmed his previous request by saying, with profound gravity, ‘Barkis is willin’. That’s the message,’ I readily undertook its transmission. While I was waiting for the coach in the hotel at Yarmouth that very afternoon, I procured a sheet of paper and an inkstand, and wrote a note to Peggotty, which ran thus: ‘My dear Peggotty. I have come here safe. Barkis is willing. My love to mama. Yours affectionately. P.S. He says he particularly wants you to know - Barkis is willing.

Whoever severs himself from Mother Earth and her flowing sources of life goes into exile.

Her empathy was like a double-edged razor that allowed her to experience the nethermost of human joys and sorrows. The best and worst of emotions cut her to the bone. The pain of her heart was like a tortuous phantom that lived outside her body. She could feel its presence. It clung to her breasts like a nursing infant. Pressure on her chest. Stealing her breath. I don't want to hurt like this, she thought. Then she remembered the alternative. She pictured life without feeling and imagined the sociopath existence. It is better to feel, she said.

Арестанты любили говорить о своём прошлом. Их воспоминания были единствееным будущем, которое у них оставалось.

...нет ничего невозможного для того, кто умеет ждать. "Ночной король

...страдания сами по себе являются исключением из правил, а вовсе не тем, из чего должна строиться жизнь. Леонард Пейкофф. Предисловие к "Хорошей статье

...злорадство - то чувство, которое описывает человека, как существо, которому предначертано страдать и потерпеть крах, - пронизывает всё в нашу эпоху; ...даже те, кто утверждает, что отвергают такую точку зрения, как правило, сегодня чувствуют, что стремление к ценности должно быть сродни болезненному крестовому походу, где каждый, сжав зубы, посвящает себя этой мрачной, но святой борьбе со злом. И подобное отношение... наделяет это зло чересчур большой властью. ...зло изначально бессильно,.. а Вселенная не настроена против человека, она "доброжелательна". Всё это означает, что человеческие ценности... можно достичь здесь, в этой жизни. Поэтому счастье не следует рассматривать как несчастный случай, напротив, метафизически, как нормальное, естественное развитие событий. Если выразить это более кратко и философски, то глубинный смысл человека заключается не в надгробии, над которым торжественно растянулись венцы, сплетённые из его заслуг при жизни, а в беззаботном веселье, сопровождающем его путь до самого последнего вздоха. Леонард Пейкофф. Предисловие к "Хорошей статье

- Спустя тысячу лет, комендант, не важно, станет ли мир красным, как этот флаг, или белым, подобно снегу, кого ещё будет волновать, что один из коммунистов на маленьком пятнышке острова отдал своё сердце и свою кровь во славу мировой революции? Джоан Хардинг/Фрэнсис Волконцева - Карееву "Красная пешка

...вынести можно многое, забыть можно многое, если всегда твёрдо помнить об одной главной цели и причине. "Нет

I began to whisper my prayers and thought of my mom ’ s worries. “ Grandma, ” I leaned on my elbow. “ Do you think the H - bombs are going to blow up the world, and we ’ ll all vanish like the Comanches did in the tornado? ” Grandma pinched her lips, reflecting. “ No, Steven, no great war. A man once said that war is bound to happen … as long as you believe it is bound to happen. Once you believe it is not bound to happen, it does not have to be. You decide. What do you believe? ” “ That there won ’ t be an H - bomb war. ” “ That kind of hope is what ’ s kept mankind alive for a long time. Keep that hope. Maybe other people will join you.

When on October 5, 1917, the Passchendaele offensive was sinking into the mire, and the Cabinet sought to bring it to a conclusion, Robertson was compelled to rest himself upon ‘the unsatisfactory state of the French armies and of the general political situation in France, which was still far from reassuring’;10 and again: ‘The original object of the campaign—the clearance of the Belgian coast—was seen to be doubtful of attainment long before the operations terminated, owing to the bad weather experienced and to the delay in starting caused by the change of plan earlier in the year. But, as already explained, there were strong reasons why activity had to be maintained. We must give the French armies time to recover their strength and morale, make every effort to keep Russia in the field in some form or other, and try to draw enemy troops to Flanders which might otherwise be sent against Italy, especially after her defeat at Caporetto. All these purposes of distraction were achieved, and in addition heavy losses were inflicted upon the German armies.’11 For these ‘purposes of distraction’ the killing, maiming or capture of over 400,000 British soldiers was apparently considered a reasonable price to pay. It appears however that although Robertson drove the Cabinet remorselessly forward, he had convinced himself that none of the British attacks for which he bore responsibility in 1915 and in 1916 had had any chance of decisive success. ‘With respect to the alleged error of always attacking where the enemy was strongest,’ he writes,12 ‘I could not refrain from saying that the greatest of all errors was that of not providing before the war an army adequate to enforce the policy adopted…. Until this year we have not had the means to attack with the hope of getting a decision,13 and therefore we have had no choice in the point of attack.’ He used these words on his own avowal on June 21, 1917; so that the highest expert authority responsible for procuring the support of the Cabinet to two years of offensive operations had already convinced himself that up till 1917 the British Army ‘had not the means to attack with the hope of getting a decision.’ Undeterred however by this slowly-gained revelation, he proceeded to drive the unfortunate Ministers to authorize the prolongation into the depths of winter of the Passchendaele offensive.

These volumes will leave the reader in no doubt about the opinion of their author. From first to last it is contended that once the main armies were in deadlock in France the true strategy for both sides was to attack the weaker partners in the opposite combination with the utmost speed and ample force. According to this view, Germany was unwise to attack France in August, 1914, and especially unwise to invade Belgium for that purpose. She should instead have struck down Russia and left France to break her teeth against the German fortress and trench lines. Acting thus she would probably have avoided war with the British Empire, at any rate during the opening, and for her most important, phase of the struggle. The first German decision to attack the strongest led to her defeat at the Marne and the Yser, and left her baffled and arrested with the ever-growing might of an implacable British Empire on her hands. Thus 1914 ended. But in 1915 Germany turned to the second alternative, and her decision was attended by great success. Leaving the British and French to shatter their armies against her trench lines in France, Germany marched and led her allies against Russia, with the result that by the autumn enormous territories had been conquered from Russia; all the Russian system of fortresses and strategic railways was in German hands, while the Russian armies were to a large extent destroyed and the Russian State grievously injured. The only method by which the Allies could rescue Russia was by forcing the Dardanelles. This was the only counter-stroke that could be effective. If it had succeeded it would have established direct and permanent contact between Russia and her Western allies, it would have driven Turkey, or at the least Turkey in Europe, out of the war, and might well have united the whole of the Balkan States, Serbia, Greece, Bulgaria and Roumania, against Austria and Germany. Russia would thus have received direct succour, and in addition would have experienced an enormous relief through the pressure which the combined Balkan States would instantly have applied to Austria-Hungary. However, the narrow and local views of British Admirals and Generals and of the French Headquarters had obstructed this indispensable manéuvre. Instead of a clear strategic conception being clothed and armed with all that the science of staffs and the authority of Commanders could suggest, it had been resisted, hampered, starved and left to languish. The time gained by this mismanagement and the situation created by the Russian defeats enabled Germany in September to carry the policy of attacking the weaker a step further. Falkenhayn organized an attack upon Serbia. Bulgaria was gained to the German side, Serbia was conquered, and direct contact was established between the Central Empires and Turkey. The

A very successful method of dragon-fly-catching..is to use a captured female dragon-fly as a decoy. One end of a long thread is fastened to the insect's tail, and the other end of the thread to a flexible rod. By moving the rod in a particular way the female can be kept circling on her wings at the full length of the thread; and a male is soon attracted. As soon as he clings to the female, a slight jerk of the rod will bring both insects into the angler's hand. With a single female for lure, it is easy to capture eight or ten males in succession

Owie.” Gabrielle rubbed her sore backside. Her wings flapped in agitation. “What was that for?” “I-I’m sorry,” Alex said with increasingly wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, his eyes widening further as he looked down and realized something else. Gabrielle was naked. Completely. Buck. Ass. Naked.

Alex narrowed his eyes. “You’re one of her suitors, aren’t you?” There was no other explanation. This man—alien—must have been one of the people that wanted to marry Gabrielle. “I’m not one of her suitors. I am her future husband.” “Did Gabrielle agree to marry you? I don’t think she did.” “It doesn’t matter what the princess wants. This is what I’ve decided, so this is how it’s going to be.” “What?” Shii-rya grinned and puffed out his chest. “I’ve decided to marry Princess Gabrielle. She’s naive and childish, but she has a great body for a humanoid. And I can always train her to act the way I want later. More importantly, by marrying her, I’ll become the Emperor of the Galaxy. Ultimate power will be within my grasp!

Granny Morel—urk!” Alex choked when a sudden pressure threatened to strangle him. Was it just him, or were her eyes glowing a demonic red? “I-I mean, Auntie Morella.

Hello. How can I help you?” “Hi. Would you mind letting my friend play with some of your animals?” Alex asked. “Not at all. What would you like me to get out?” Alex looked at Kazekiri, who stared at him for a moment as if wondering why he was looking at her. Then her eyes slowly widened. “Oh, um, ah. I’d like to pet…” “What was that?” Alex asked as she trailed off at the end. “I said I want to pet the…” “I couldn’t hear that last part.” Alex leaned in as if doing so would help him hear her. Kazekiri took a deep breath, and then… “I SAID I WANT TO PET THE PUPPIES!

Uma Akkolyte: "When I was a little girl, my mother gave me a pair of shoes and put me on a train and I watched as she exploded with the rest of Cairo. "I lived hating her for a long time. I thought when she died ... [sic.] "I thought it meant she didn't love me enough to live. "But I want you to know. "I love you more than anything. "And I know I'm rambling, but I am really scared right now. Not for me. Don't worry about me. I'm gonna go see my mom now. "I'm scared for you. So just do me one favor, okay ... [sic.] "... [sic] Don't let this consume you. Try not to blame me. "Don't live in hate. Or grief. "Just-- "Live.

…Minmi…” “Huh?” “Minmi, do you want to be number one no matter what?” “It’s just…I’m nothing…” “Nothing?” “I don’t shine like Aoi; I’m not invincible at something like Tomozaki; I don’t have a sense of self like you… If I don’t work hard, I’m just empty…” Tama-chan hugged Mimimi harder. “…Minmi, you’re…” Tama-chan’s voice was full of genuine gratitude. “You’re my hero.” “…What?” Mimimi lifted her face up from Tama-chan’s chest. Tama-chan stopped hugging her, took a step back, and looked her in the eye again. “You always say you’re fine and smile and push yourself too far and work hard. But you never show anyone…that you’re saving me. I like Aoi, too, and everyone else…but I only have one hero, and that’s you.

You guys are planning to eat out, right? I wouldn’t want to drag everyone along on my personal shopping trip.” She waved her hands energetically. That’s when I realized what was going on. This was just Izumi’s personality. Even though she belonged to Erika Konno’s group, which was at the top of the class hierarchy, she was hyperaware of the general mood of a conversation and cared a lot about what other people thought of her. She was good at doing things for others and being considerate. The flip side was that she was bad at letting other people do things for her. It was like that saying about monks being bad at combat. If you’ve got a strength, then its opposite is likely to be your weak point. Maybe.

A-and do you want to…go see that movie together?” “…Okay.” By now, she’d hidden her whole face behind the book, but even the backs of her hands were completely red.

But what happened next really surprised me.” “Yeah?” “The master of ceremonies announced the first-place school.” Mimimi took a deep breath. “When they said the word ‘first place,’ Aoi’s mask finally broke, and she started crying.” “…Wow.” That was all I could say. “She didn’t cry when her own team’s name was called for second place, but when the other school’s name was called for first, she did. It was like, this girl only sees victory. It was incredible.

The child looked around her, with that solemn feeling with which we contemplate the work of ages that have become but drops of water in the great ocean of eternity.

Realizing that he was lost, Azazel walked up to the nearest citizen, a young woman who was warily turning her head as though waiting for something to leap out and stab her in the neck. “Excuse me!” He boomed. “Could I trouble you for a—” “KYA!” the woman screamed. “MONSTER!” Azazel was stunned into silence as the woman ran away, shrieking like she’d just seen an abominable horror from the far reaches of space. When she disappeared around the corner of a building, he remained standing there for a while longer, and then huffed in indignation. “That was rude,” he said. With nothing else to do but find the next denizen and ask them for directions, Azazel began walking once more. Several minutes passed with more people running from him. It wasn’t long afterward that the loud blaring of sirens alerted Azazel to the arrival of a police shuttle seconds before it came into sight. “You in the armor! Put your hands in the air and surrender yourself! You’re under arrest!” Azazel had no desire to be placed in confinement again. So, he did the only thing that an upstanding and forthright commander of the Angelisian Army would do in such a situation. He ran away. “After him!” The shuttle zoomed forward, hot on his tail. “Why is this happening to me again?!” Azazel’s scream was lost to the din of sirens.

Really… you two…” Jasmine sniffled a few times and wiped her eyes before she recovered and took what Alex liked to call her “traditional rich girl pose.” She placed one hand on her hip, thrust out her chest, and placed her other hand near her mouth. “Oh ho ho ho! Very well, Alexander, Alice, I shall grace you both with my magnificent presence. Come, let us travel to your abode.” “Sure,” Alice said. “By the way, we’re watching Titan Girls.” “Oh ho! So, you are still into that childish show, are you? Would it not be better if we watched something more mature, such as—” “Titan Girls.” “Oh ho ho ho! Alice, you are such a kidder!

Gabrielle pressed a button on Mr. Recycle Doggy’s head. The sound of servomotors was heard over the din of dozens of conversations. The dog’s mechanical ears seemed to twitch, and its eyes lit up, glowing a bright green. It turned around, looking at its surroundings, and then it looked up at Gabrielle. Ah, what an amazing invention! Truly, Gabrielle is an astounding genius to be capable of creating something so beautiful! “All right, Mr. Recycle Doggy, show them what you can do and clean up some trash!” Mr. Recycle Doggy responded to her command by searching the area. Jameson leaned forward from where he’d hidden behind a cylindrical recycler, eager to see what sort of wondrous action his Gabrielle’s invention would do. Then the dog’s eyes locked onto him. Its glowing green eyes, which seemed almost hungry. “Bark! Bark!” “Ah! Wait, Mr. Recycle Doggy version four-point-o! Where are you going?” “WAAAAA!!!!!” Jameson screamed like a little girl as the mechanical dog charged at him. Leaping to his feet, he ran away as fast as his legs could carry him. Several hours later, a young couple would find him, unconscious and lying on the walkway, with a robotic dog chewing on what remained of his clothing.

Look, it’s not like I don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with my bro, but—” “Oh ho ho ho! You are quite the joker, Alice. My love for Alexander is pure and innocent. Yes, as one who is known as the Queen of Purity, the love that I have for your brother can only be pure in return. Please do not mistake it for something as vile as obsession. Such terms more aptly describe my brother.” “Well, I can’t deny you on that point.” Jameson de Truante was unpleasant at best, an obsessive-compulsive freak at worst, and a narcissistic loser with an ego the size of Mars. Nobody liked him. Not really anyway. People just treated him nicely because he was rich. “Back to my original topic,” Jasmine started. Alice wanted to facepalm, but that would require effort. “Could we please change the subject? Listening to how my best friend wants to bang my older brother is troublesome.” “W-wha—I do not want to ‘bang’ Alexander! I thought I told you, my love for him is—” “Pure. Yes, yes. I know. Your love is so pure. Is that why you have a naked body pillow of my brother at home?” Jasmine nearly fell out of her seat. Her horrified expression was a sight to behold. “H-how did you know about that?” “I didn’t,” Alice said, feeling a jolt course through her. Knowing that her friend really did have a body pillow with her brother on it creeped her out.

Enough rationalization. They simply had what you wanted, so you took it. [My chair-- I shit on my good chair!] You shit more than just your chair. You shit the world. All you ever cared about was winning -- And you did. The last man standing on a mountain of filth [. . .] Kazumi taught forgiveness. She accepted all refugees looking for a better life. And you turned that against her. Kazumi would show mercy. I'm not Kazumi.

If she doesn't want to go down on you, try improving the taste of your semen by eating watermelon, celery, her pussy.

Divine compassion published to wretched man, immediately upon his fall, the first doctrine of grace; in such a manner, indeed, as in few words, and those almost enigmatical, summarily to contain the whole Gospel; we have that first promise, Gen. 3:14, 15: “And the Lord said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field: upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life. And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.

It seems therefore more advisable, and more becoming both the faith and piety of Adam, and the wisdom of the Holy Spirit, who accurately relates those things, to understand by all living, both the Lord Christ, who is the fountain of life, and the elect, who, being united to him, are quickened by his Spirit. The woman was constituted the mother of these living, by the word of promise, by which she was expressly appointed to have that seed, who was to bruise the serpent’s head. Wherefore Adam, who by sin became the father of all who die, 1 Cor. 15:22, called his wife Eve, from his faith in God’s promise, believing, according to the word of God, that no man should have true life, but what would be derived from her. However, the original of this was not in the woman herself, but in the principal seed that was to descend from her.

as the power of the keys is not limited to this world, 5 an indulgence is more than a mere remission of canonical works of penance; it is a valid abso lution, before God, from the punishments of sin which would otherwise have to be redeemed either by voluntary acts of penance here on earth or by compulsory suffering in purgatory. In other words, an indulgence is valid not only in the external forum of the Church, but likewise in foro divino, that is, before God. This simple explanation incidentally removes the mis taken notion that indulgences neutralize the penal effects of sin (concupiscence, disease, death) or that they can free a person from secular obligations towards others. /?) Where does the Church get the merits by which she blots out the punishments of sin ? She 2 Cfr. 2 Cor. II, 7, 20: x a pt~ * V ' su P ra > Sect - T - 5 Cfr. Matt. XVI, 19; XVIII, 18. 3 Cfr. Is. LXI, i. draws them from a thesaurus of which our Lord Jesus Christ has constituted her the dispenser, and out of which she grants to each individual beneficiary as much as is needed to satisfy the justice of God. This thesaurus consists of the superabundant merits of Jesus Christ and His saints. In dispensing these merits to the faithful whenever there is a iusta causa, the Church acts in accordance with the justice as well as the mercy of God. He who gains an indulgence does not approach God empty-handed, but enriched with the merits of Christ and the saints, and thereby satisfies divine justice. God, on the other hand, in freely accepting these vicarious merits instead of the personal satisfaction due Him from the sinner, manifests His grace and mercy, i. e. His in dulgence in a subjective sense.

bishops, and the clergy throughout the world. The holier the Church is in her members (especially the pope and the episcopate), the more agreeable must be her sacrifice in the eyes of God.

Well, let me tell you... Her highness is not the kind, gentle person you think she is.

Yeah!” Hajime lifted Yue up and started twirling her around. Their smiles were completely out of place in the location that had been dubbed hell by the rest of the world. At

She is not, indeed, like most modern ladies, to be known in half an hour; her modest worth, and fearful excellence, require both time and encouragement to shew themselves. She does not, beautiful as she is, seize the soul by surprise, but, with more dangerous fascination, she steals it almost imperceptibly.

Anthy Himeniya told me to follow her…so she could show me…who my brother truly loved.

In her whole figure and especially in her head there was a distinctly energetic and at the same time tender expression. She was one of those animals who, it seems, do not talk only because the mechanism of their mouths does not permit it. To Vronsky at least it seemed that she understood everything he was feeling now as he looked at her.

you have every right to want the door of your relationship closed and secured.

I... fell in love with... her profile. I want to see what Kei sees, by her side. I want to do different fun things with her and see that expression on her face again. I... I love Kei!

Isn't it ever so foolish to determine the course of your life based on how others want you to be?

to keep conscripted soldiers from deserting. They would introduce a young girl—around an age appropriate to play the soldiers’ little sister or daughter—into the squadron, giving her shelter and food, all the while trying to have them form a makeshift family. The hope was that the soldiers would be inspired to continue fighting, even to the death, all to protect their beloved “daughter.

The church keeps all the conjurings for recording images and sounds to themselves.

H-hey, I know that too! I’m the one who got to feed her meat and watch her up close, after all!

Arnold was silent for a time. Then, sounding embarrassed, he said, “My body acted on its own. I couldn’t help it.

May I ask why she feels that way about me?” “You’ll need to ask her yourself.” I doubted I’d get an answer even if I kept pressing her. Milaine was that kind of woman.

While your aunt rejoined the Mind of GOD upon her death, when her consciousness returns to our Earthly physical plane, aunt Sallie’s consciousness splits into two components-- the psyche aspect that remains in the non-Earthly plane of the Universal Mind, and the physical aspect, that physically appears to you in the Earthly plane.  Dual Aspect Monism can provide a model of why the CAP/UFO Contact Experiencers have seen thousands of very different “physical” forms of CAP/UFO-related Non-Human Intelligence where the overwhelming majority are “seen” for less than one minute. It can provide a model of why CAP/UFO contact Experiencers are seeing tens of thousands of different objects in the Sky, most of them seen as diverse light configurations. While many are seen as physical, they might be “holographic projections” – they appear as physical objects but they are not. This theory can explain why the CAP/UFO Experiencer is seeing tens of thousands of different “physical beings” -- these perceived physical beings are not coming from tens of thousands of physical planets and visiting us, usually for less than 1 minute. Instead, these tens of thousands of diverse physical beings might be holographic projections from an external consciousness-based reality. This theory can provide a model of why, when you are having an Out of Body experience or an Astral Travel experience, everything seems very physical to you but yet you know you are not on planet Earth but in some other non-Earthly