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.

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?

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

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.

Strong doesn’t describe her, she defines strong.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

anger and love cannot grow in the same garden.

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.

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.

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

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

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")

At school, I'd cry at how much I missed her. Sitting in between her back and the backrest. Even since I'd gotten bigger, I'd always cling to my mother. I hate my mother...Protest that I detest her and despise her and all the while I'm clinging on. And well, here I am still clinging on at 28.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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.

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.

...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.

I once believed I needed to risk my life out of a desire to protect something too–but I don't think that's right anymore. After all, the life you save keeps going long after yours ends." She could sense Kyle's breathe catching. "People aren't in peril just once in their lives. After you overcome the initial distress, happiness and danger await you.

It was like Françoise was calling herself 'crazy' for loving a world that would hurt her so bad, but she can't stop loving it. Yeah. She told me it was 'an artist thing'. As artists we want to give the world the gifts we were sent here to give, but we know the worlds won't always respect the gift... And sometimes even hurt us... It's kind of crazy.

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.

After All the Lullabies Vanish From the Library" In a bullet-riddled villa we choreograph swordfights and sing to militant termites feasting on the walls. We read newspapers from headlines to horoscope. Our nights too long. Our bed too big for every room. We turn invisible doorknobs, light ignus fatuus chandeliers. The storyteller paints her body when she loses her voice, and we pass her around a circle, naming what we see— Myrmidons! Saturn!–a storm flickering in the god’s eye. On her hip, the ascendant unborn. A thigh of white bellbirds sunning on an alligator’s back. An arm of starfall in daylight. We warn the children it will be a small story, a smaller house, the smallest mermaid’s purse preserved in a jar. Era uma vez… Lightning on the Atlantic looking for trees. A nautilus moaning a monody. There is no ending to be had. Sleep kisses our eyelids. Stars wheel in the dreams. The river plants its tide in us, saying, sea, sea, sea. 32 Poems (Vol. 10, No. 2, Fall 2012)

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.

New companion Yoo Joonghyuk's Black Heavenly Demon Sword filled with the power of transcendence flew to my neck. It was an inevitable blow. Then a crack appeared in the ceiling of the banquet hall. Yoo Joonghyuk looked up at the ceiling but it was already too late. The running Yoo Joonghyuk was crushed by the fragments of the broken ceiling. Some large pieces were avoided but there were too many stones pouring down. I saw a shadow in the dirty dust. The hair was sweaty like the person had rushed here. The bandages half released from the left arm was blowing in the wind. In the dust, this person smiled as she trampled on Yoo Joonghyuk. "I knew you couldn't do this without me." [The incarnation 'Han Sooyoung' is jumping into the verdict of the giant story!] pg 3901 38. Perhaps Han Sooyoung had adjusted her shares ownership to Lee Seolhwa as soon as she learnt the information here. Then she came straight to this place. Han Sooyoung turned towards the surrounding constellations and declared with a growl, "I am evil. In addition, that fucking Kim Dokja standing over there is definitely evil." Han Sooyoung made me evil regardless of everything else and continued looking at Yoo Joonghyuk and the party members. pg 3903 39. This person shouting with her short hair flying looked amazing. At this time, Han Sooyoung could be seen as the main character, not Yoo Joonghyuk. pg 3903 40. The eyes of the group shook. I saw Han Sooyoung turn away. Then I spoke like I was pulling the trigger. "You are characters of a story." pg 3925 41. 'It's no fun when no one is fighting back'pg4046 42. However, I endured. I simply had to. So that I could grasp that one and only chance soon to be coming my way pg 4078 43. Along with the explosive grinding noise, blue sparks danced in the air. "Why are you standing around dazed like that, you dumbass?!" Han Sooyoung was standing next to me now pg 4102

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.

Sweetness, what are you doing? Hank’s kind of party is rated XXX and most likely illegal somewhere in the world. I promise you don’t want to see that.” Her gray eyes met his. “It’s just a drink, Devon. Scared?

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.

The flower of that generous manhood which quitted peaceful civilian life in every kind of workaday occupation, which came at the call of Britain, and as we may still hope, at the call of humanity, and came from the most remote parts of her Empire, was shorn away for ever in 1916. Unconquerable except by death, which they have conquered, they have set up a monument of native virtue which will command the wonder, the reverence and the gratitude of our island people as long as we endure as a nation among men.

Action Steps 1. Evaluate your progress regarding the tasks on your to-do list before offering to help other people. Note how much time you’ve allocated to each task and determine whether you have enough time left in the day to address them as planned. If you’re ahead of schedule, offer your help to the person asking for it. Otherwise, tactfully say “no” and explain your reason. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with helping people. You should do so whenever you can. But you need to make sure you’re not jeopardizing the quality or timeliness of your own work in the process. 2. Remind yourself that few requests are truly emergencies. People seeking help usually want to receive it immediately. Their urgency rarely stems from a crisis. Rather, most people simply want whatever they seek sooner rather than later. It’s human nature. Before offering your help, determine whether a true crisis exists that warrants your swift attention. Again, most “emergencies” aren’t emergencies at all. 3. Ask whether you can help the person later. That allows you to say “no” and simultaneously appear willing to accommodate the individual. This approach also helps you to retain control of your time, a crucial part of working productively. People who hear this response will find it to be more palatable than a simple “no.” 4. Find out what you’re being asked to commit yourself to. When people ask for help, they often downplay the amount of time it will take. For example, consider the times you’ve heard someone ask you, “Got a second for a quick question?” Ask the person seeking your help to clearly describe what he or she wants you to do for them. If the tasks involved require more time than you have to offer, you’ll have a suitable reason to decline. 5. Decide in advance the activities you won’t help others with. Placing limits on the types of work you’re willing to address will make it easier to rebuff requests for help. For example, you might decide to shun making phone calls before 10:00 a.m. because you know such calls expose you to potential time sinks. A planned 3-minute call can easily turn into 20 minutes if the person you’ve called is chatty. If a coworker asks you to call a vendor or client for him or her, tactfully decline and explain your reason.

6. Practice saying “no,” even if you have the time to help the other person. This may seem unkind and selfish. But as with every bad habit profiled in this book, making a positive change requires developing a new habit to replace the harmful one. Forming a new habit takes time and practice. It takes repeated application, a theme that runs through this entire action guide. Be graceful, but steadfast. Saying “no” will become easier with time. 7. Work in time blocks. Set aside chunks of time during which you are not to be disturbed. For example, if you’re using the Pomodoro Technique, you could set aside a 2-hour block. That would cover four 25-minute Pomodoros and their attendant 5-minute breaks. The key to making this work is to clearly communicate to others that you’ll be unavailable during these 2-hour periods. If someone “forgets” and approaches to ask for your help, gently remind him or her that you’re unavailable. Let that person know when your time block ends, and ask him or her to return at that time.

All my love poems are to her and everything and stupid" We built a Tesla coil to take x-rays of each other’s tongues or dew perspires on the inside. Hard work, being lovely at dawn, when the firing squad fires up. No blindfold for me, I’d watch lightning die in my arms if I could stand that tall. Then we fucked and x-rayed our panting after. Where she saw a horse, I saw moonlight braiding its hair. It’s possible a crow is a piece of the night crossing the day, a reconnaissance by dream, a renaissance of unity: she and I and every atom in this together, whatever this is, it’s lovely of her knees to bring her eyes to me to be as brown as I dare say dirt. The kind I hold and think, I owe you breath, that I could almost put in a bowl and eat without bothering to wait for the world after rain that will grow from it. Blackbird, Fall 2011 Vol. 10 No. 2

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

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.

tourists. "She oughtn't really to go at all," said Mr. Beebe, as they watched her from the window, "and she knows it. I put it down to too much Beethoven.

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

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.

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.

Was that a particularly Japanese belief, or just her view as an average citizen? Either way, Akari always pointed and got very excited whenever she saw a castle.

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

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.

All she was thinking about were the orphans and how to make it so that anyone could have access to eggs. Was this girl really fifteen? If she told me she was a merchant’s daughter, I probably would have believed her. She was a kindhearted girl and an important friend to my daughter. I would work as hard as I could to repay even a sliver of my debt to her.

Kim Dokja x Hansooyoung PART 1 [I shall kill you, Yoo Joonghyuk.] ~ Kim Dokja pg 4110 46. ⸢(Looks like you still don't know how it works. The heroine loses her consciousness, her hand falling away. And the male hero awakens! You see, in all the movies I've seen so far…) pg 4112 47. These idiots, I even died so that you two could talk to each other, but this…' She figured that she really needed to give these two men a harsh earful when she arrived there. But, when she pushed past the bushes and stepped forward, the ensuing spectacle freaked her out in a rather grand manner. Kwa-aaang!! Bang!!! Yoo Joonghyuk was mercilessly slamming his sword down on Kim Dokja, currently sprawled out on the ground. "Hey!! You crazy son of a bitch!!" pg 4125 48. There were plenty of things she wanted to ask, but she chose not to. Instead, she poked Kim Dokja's cheek and spoke up. "Still, this guy looks like he got completely fooled, doesn't he." "Looks that way." "How did it go?" "He went crazy and attacked me." Han Sooyoung smirked and lightly pinched Kim Dokja's cheek as if she was proud of him. pg 4127 49. the events of her dying at Yoo Joonghyuk's sword, me fighting against him, and then, passing out from his attack, and finally, sharing a conversation with Yoo Sangah inside the Library… Han Sooyoung approached the bed before I noticed it and pinched my cheek. "In any case, Kim Dokja. You can be really adorable sometimes." pg 4144 50. The moment Han Sooyoung's fist bumped into mine, she was completely enveloped in bright light. As I watched her figure disappear, I became aware once more that she had become my companion for real. pg 4165 51. ⸢And…⸥ My heart began powerfully pounding away. ⸢The woman that I used to love.⸥ pg 4189 52. Her emotionless eyes; the beauty spot just below one of them; and her lips that always mocked me for fun, now arching up in a smooth line. "Proceed with the execution pg 4191 53. "But, should you be doing something like that? She's originally your bride, isn't she?" "Correction. She was supposed to be one. The throne was usurped on the first day of the wedding, however." Oh, I see. So, it's that sort of development? I felt just a bit relieved now. Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk as a couple? hadn't allowed any dating at the workplace yet, so hell no. pg 4202 54. ⸢By the time you're reading this book, I…⸥ I steeled my heart and read the next line of the text. ⸢…I'd still be living a pretty good life, I guess. Hahah, were you scared?⸥ This idiot… pg 4212 55. The following words were eerily similar to a certain body of text that I was familiar with. ⸢The you reading this story will definitely make it out of here alive.⸥ Han Sooyoung's afterwords came to an end there. For the longest time, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the full-stop at the end of the sentencepg4216 56. "Looks like the company's internal rules need to be changed somewhat…" pg 4234 57. She spoke in a fed-up tone of voice. And then, issued an order to me. "Marry me, Ricardo Von Kaizenix." pg 4244 58. "I didn't want to extend her 50 years by even one minute if I could help it." I was being serious here. The moment I arrived in this world and realized that Han Sooyoung had to spend 50 years here, I just couldn't escape from this one overwhelming emotion. Someone was sacrificed again because of me. Han Sooyoung who had to endure the time frame of 50 years – could she still maintain a normal, functioning mind? Was she able to maintain the ego of the Han Sooyoung that I know of?pg4254 59. Her palm smacked me in the back of the head again. God damn it, this punk… "The third method, 'Romance'." "And its contents are?" "Marry Yuri di Aristel." "And just what did you choose?" "The third method?" "And are we currently married?" "Nope." "And why the hell not?!" pg 4256

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

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.

Could I get the sautéed spinach with bacon, the Szechuan mapo tofu, a side of rice…

I have water. I have some melon soda left. I can survive a bite. After making sure she had enough healing potions (drinks) left… “All right, I’ll have a bite,

Yes, it's true that we're Dragonmates and soulmates. But Agnes has her own pace for these things. I was thinking we could start as intimate friends and go from there.

While we were absent from Rochester on this eastern tour the foreman of the Office was attacked with cholera. He was an unconverted young man. The lady of the house where he boarded died with the same disease, also her daughter. He was then brought down and no one ventured to take care of him, fearing the disease. The Office hands watched over him until the disease seemed checked, then took him to our house. He had a relapse and a physician attended him and exerted himself to the utmost to save him, but at length told him that his {296} case was hopeless, that he could not survive through the night. Those interested for him could not bear to see the young man die without hope. They prayed around his bedside while he was suffering great agony. He also prayed that the Lord would have mercy upon him, and forgive his sins. Yet he obtained no relief. He continued to cramp and toss in restless agony. The brethren continued in prayer all night that he might be spared to repent of his sins and keep the commandments of God. He at length seemed to consecrate himself to God, and promised the Lord he would keep the Sabbath and serve him. He soon felt relief. The next morning the physician came, and as he entered, said, ‘I told my wife about one o’clock this morning that in all probability the young man was out of his trouble.’ He was told that he was alive. The physician was surprised and immediately ascended the stairs to his room, and as he examined his pulse, said, ‘Young man, you are better, the crisis is past, but it is not my skill that saved you, but a higher power. With good nursing you may get about again.’ He gained rapidly, and soon took his place in the Office, a converted man. 

The stupidity of the statement, the madness of the situation, incenses Libby; she's driving hard, and trying to comprehend the Savior's nonsense, and it occurs to her, for the first time since she entered Hank's ranch two weeks ago, It's all just bullshit, all of it, all life, all just nonsense and noise...

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

...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

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.

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.

Woman is strong and wholly what she is, and she experiences the Man and the sons only in relation to herself and her ordained role. In the masculine being, on the contrary, there is a certain contradiction; he is this man, and he is something else besides, which woman neither understands nor admits, which she feels as robbery and violence upon that which to her is holiest. This secret and fundamental war of the sexes has gone on ever since there were sexes, and will continue - silent, bitter, unforgiving, pitiless - while they continue.

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.

Would the guy who saves the world really beat up a sixteen year old girl and steal her dog?!

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

When her son, Prince Leopold, died in 1884, Victoria was so devastated, she never walked again.

To gain the Czar’s favor, Rasputin claimed to have healing abilities. Since Nicholas’s wife, Alexis, was suffering from hemophilia, he hoped Rasputin could cure her.