Higgins Best Quotes

When an eighty-five pound mammal licks your tears away, then tries to sit on your lap, it's hard to feel sad.

Maybe love isn't just a bouquet of roses once in a whole. Maybe it's just sticking it out, when it's hard, when you're mad, when you're tired.

I've made up boyfriends too' Karen said, nodding her head slowly. 'The best man I ever dated was all in my head' 'Thank you!' I exclaimed.

Love came when you weren't looking, except in the case of millions who found mates on Match.com, but, hey. It sounded good.

The love of your life won't be the man you end up with, and you'll always compare the two.

I had a tattoo once,” said Kaidan. “Last year, just before we left England.” “What do you mean, you had one 'once'?” “Bloody thing was gone by the morning!” His voice was indignant. “Sheets were black with ink. I put myself through all of that for hours, and my body just pushed it back out!” And once again we were both in a fit of hysterics, sharing the world's best inside joke. We were doubled over, unable to breathe, and I accidentally snorted. Kaidan pointed at me and laughed harder, clutching his stomach. “What was your tattoo?” I managed to push the words out. “You had to ask. It was a deadly-looking pair of black wings on my shoulder blades.” Kaidan and I started roaring again, muscles clenching from the exertion. We had no way of knowing it would be our last reason to laugh for a very long time.

Maybe love isn’t just a bouquet of roses once in a while. Maybe it’s just sticking it out, when it’s hard, when you’re mad, when you’re tired.

Jay took out his guitar. He was decent at it, but the piano was his best talent. He couldn’t get a certain riff right, so he handed the instrument to Kaidan, and my heart flipped. I recalled him saying he played guitar, but I’d never actually seen or heard him play. Kaidan began to pick at each string, testing and tuning with his full attention. I watched the way his hands moved across the wood and strings, gently, reverently, his body seeming to curl around it as if it were a part of him. . . . I felt my hands getting sweaty, because watching Kaidan get lost in music did crazy things to me. My breathing became ragged and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He looked up at that moment and caught me staring hard. He knew. He knew what it did to me! I could tell because his badge expanded. He angled himself away from the others and signed to me, I want to be alone with you tonight. Patti did have a lot of guests staying in the house. I signed back, I’ll work on it. “Excellent,” he whispered, a hot grin sliding onto his face.

Being sexy is exhausting.

I’ve found that if you expect the best of a person,” Frank told him once, “you generally get it.” “What happens when you don’t?” Lucas asked. “Live and learn. Emphasis on learn.

You promised to be on your best behavior,” I reminded him, breathless. “You kissed me,” he growled. His voice had gone very deep. “Well, but you started it by kissing my neck.” “True. I hadn't planned that.” His sultry voice, paired with those blazing eyes, told me I needed to get away from him. I hurried to the end of the bed, where I jumped off and began to pace back and forth, yanking out my loose hairband and pulling my hair back into a tight ponytail. I tried hard not to think about the taste of his lips. I'd had my first kiss, and I'd never be the same. “Why did you stop?” he asked. “Because you were moving on to other things.” He scratched his chin and cheek. “Hmm, moved too quickly. Rookie mistake.” I crossed my arms again, watching him speculate internally like a coach outlining a play that had gone wrong. Incredible. Then he sized me up in his sights again. “But I can see you still want me.” I gave him my meanest stare, but it was hard to look at him. Gosh, he was hot! And a total player. The kiss meant nothing to him. “Oh,” he said with mock sadness, “there it goes. Mad instead? Well, sort of. You can't seem to muster a really good anger—” “Stop it!” “Sorry, was I saying that out loud?” “I can read people, too, you know. Well, not you, but at least I have the decency to try not to notice, to give them some sort of emotional privacy!” “Yes, how very decent of you.” He hadn't moved from his languid position on my bed. I leaned forward, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. “Pillow fight?” He raised an eyebrow. “Get off my bed. Please. I'm ready to go to sleep.

We got hungry around three in the morning, and ordered a ton of pizza from an all-night pizza place. Afterward, Blake talked a guy into letting him borrow his skateboard, and he once again entertained all of us. If it had wheels, Blake could work it. “Is he your boyfriend?” a girl behind me asked. I turned to the group of girls watching Blake. They were all coifed and beautiful in their bikinis, not having gone in the water. My wet hair was pulled back in a ponytail by this point and I was wrapped in a towel. “No, he’s my boyfriend’s best friend. We’re watching his place while he’s . . . out of town.” A pang of fear jabbed me when I thought about Kai. “What’s your name?” asked a brunette with glossy lips. “Anna.” I smiled. “Hey. I’m Jenny,” she said. “This is Daniela and Tara.” “Hey,” I said to them. “So, your boyfriend lives here?” asked the blonde, Daniela. She had a cool accent—something European. “Yes,” I answered, pointing up to his apartment. The girls all shared looks, raising their sculpted eyebrows. “Wait,” said Jenny. “Is he that guy in the band?” The third girl, named Tara, gasped. “The drummer?” When I nodded, they shared awed looks. “Oh my gawd, don’t get mad at me for saying this,” said Jenny, “but he’s a total piece of eye candy.” Her friends all laughed. “Yum drum,” whispered Tara, and Daniela playfully shoved her. Jenny got serious. “But don’t worry. He, like, never comes out or talks to anyone. Now we know why.” She winked at me. “You are so adorable. Where are you from?” “Georgia.” This was met with a round of awwws. “Hey, you’re a Southern girl,” said Tara. “You should like this.” She held out a bottle of bourbon and I felt a tug toward it. My fingers reached out. “Maybe just one drink,” I said. Daniela grinned and turned up the music. Fifteen minutes and three shots later I’d dropped my towel and was dancing with the girls and telling them how much I loved them, while they drunkenly swore to sabotage the efforts of any girl who tried to talk to my man.

Don’t let me be your life’s tragedy. Let me be one of the best things that ever happened. One of the many best things that ever happened to you. Let our time together be a beautiful, happy time in your life that came to an end, but led to more happiness, more love.

What’s more appealing than a guy who gets down on his knees and lets your dog lick his face?

My blood pressure surges. Folks, unless you've walked the walk, never tell a widow it's time she moved on.

Well, you always remember people who hurt your feelings.

and get him.” There

Dogs. The best work God had ever done.

A military situation at its worst can inspire fighting men to perform at their best.

I went back in and grabbed my running clothes, then changed in the bathroom. I opened the door to the bathroom, stopping when I saw Kaidan's toiletry bag on the sink. I was overcome with curiosity about his cologne or aftershave, because I'd never smelled it on anyone else before. Feeling sneaky, I prodded one finger into the bag and peeked. No cologne bottle. Only a razor, shaving cream, toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. I picked up the deodorant, pulled off the lid, and smelled it. Nope, that wasn't it. The sound of Kaidan's deep chuckle close to the doorway made me scream and drop the deodorant into the sink with a clatter. I smacked one hand to my chest and grabbed the edge of the sink with the other. He laughed out loud now. “Okay, that must have looked really bad.” I spoke to his reflection in the mirror, then fumbled to pick up the deodorant. I put the lid on and dropped it in his bag. “But I was just trying to figure out what cologne you wear.” My face was on fire as Kaidan stepped into the small bathroom and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. I stepped away. He seemed entertained by my predicament. “I haven't been wearing any cologne.” “Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Well, I didn't see any, so I thought it might be your deodorant, but that's not it either. Maybe it's your laundry detergent or something. Let's just forget about it.” “What is it you smell, exactly?” His voice took on a husky quality, and it felt like he was taking up a lot of room. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Something strange was going on here. I stepped back, hitting the tub with my heel as I tried to put the scent into words. “I don't know. It's like citrus and the forest or something...leaves and tree sap. I can't explain it.” His eyes bored into mine while he wore that trademark sexy smirk, arms still crossed. “Citrus?” he asked. “Like lemons?” “Oranges mostly. And a little lime, too.” He nodded and flicked his head to the side to get hair out of his eyes. Then his smile disappeared and his badge throbbed. “What you smell are my pheromones, Anna.” A small, nervous laugh burst from my throat. “Oh, okay, then. Well...” I eyed the small space that was available to pass through the door. I made an awkward move toward it, but he shifted his body and I stepped back again. “People can't usually smell pheromones,” he told me. “You must be using your extra senses without realizing it. I've heard of Neph losing control of their senses with certain emotions. Fear, surprise...lust.” I rubbed my hands up and down my upper arms, wanting nothing more than to veer this conversation out of the danger zone. “Yeah, I do have a hard time reining in the scent sometimes,” I babbled. “It even gets away from me while I sleep now and then. I wake up thinking Patti's making cinnamon rolls and it ends up being from someone else's apartment. Then I'm just stuck with cereal. Anyway...” “Would you like to know your own scent?” he asked me. My heart swelled up big in my chest and squeezed small again. This whole scent thing was way too sensual to be discussed in this small space. Any second now my traitorous body would be emitting some of those pheromones and there'd be red in my aura. “Uh, not really,” I said, keeping my eyes averted. “I think I should probably go.” He made no attempt to move out of the doorway. “You smell like pears with freesia undertones.” “Wow, okay.” I cleared my throat, still refusing eye contact. I had to get out of there. “I think I'll just...” I pointed to the door and began to shuffle past him, doing my best not to brush up against him. He finally took a step back and put his hands up by his sides to show that he wouldn't touch me. I broke out of the confined bathroom and took a deep breath.

I couldn't get you out of my head after we met. I told myself it was the novely of an innocent Neph girl, but it was more than that. You see the best in everyone." He paused to kiss my earlobe. "You drove me mad that trip, little Ann. I'd never been more terrified of my own self than I was when I realized I fancied you. And then you gave me that homeless woman all of your money in Hollywood, and that was it. I was done.

The best answer I’ve heard came in a sermon given by an elderly priest many years ago. He was traveling in the Middle East and was overwhelmed by the majesty of the Persian rugs he saw. Those gorgeous creations so skillfully woven into such beautiful designs. One day he was in a shop where those rugs were on display. He walked behind one that was hanging on hooks from the ceiling. Looking at it from behind, he was shocked to behold a confusing array of threads that led nowhere. Such beauty on one side, total disharmony on the other, but both part of the same plan. It was then that the message became clear to him. In this life we see only the back side of the rug. We don’t know how or why our unspeakable hardships are part of a beautiful design. That is why having faith is so important.

Men never had to deal with this, Faith thought. Men didn’t hide in bathrooms and wrestle microfiber and pantyhose. Totally not fair. Men had it easy. Did men get bikini waxed and wear uncomfortable underwear? No, they did not. Faith would bet her life that a man had invented thongs. Men sucked.

Maybe love isn't just a bouquest of roses once in a while. Maybe it's just sticking it out, when it's hard, when you're mad, when you're tired.

Personally, I always thought married sex was the best sex. Owen and I knew each other’s bodies, our favorite parts. There was the trust factor, the love, the like. It was always good.

She was aware that she was close to tears and her stomach was hollow with excitement, throat dry. Coup de foudre, the French called it. The thunderclap. The best kind of love of all. Instant and quite irrevocable

He was the author of a best-selling book emphasizing homeopathic remedies, stress reduction, and physical therapy as a means to reduce physical pain, advocating prescription drugs and surgical intervention only as last resorts.

something? Sometimes she’d go to a movie with Honor, though she clucked about the unsanitary nature of theaters, theater staff and humans in general. Hmm. Mrs. Johnson was probably her best bet. They could bring Spike, who loved movies as well as popcorn. At that moment, her phone rang, startling her so much that she sloshed her coffee. Spike barked from her little doggy bed and began leaping up against Honor’s leg, tearing

Steve was a warrior in every sense of the word, but battling wildlife perpetrators just wasn’t the same as old-fashioned combat. Because Steve’s knees continued to deteriorate, his surfing ability was severely compromised. Instead of giving up in despair, Steve sought another outlet for all his pent-up energy. Through our head of security, Dan Higgins, Steve discovered mixed martial arts (or MMA) fighting. Steve was a natural at sparring. His build was unbelievable, like a gorilla’s, with his thick chest, long arms, and outrageous strength for hugging things (like crocs). Once he grabbed hold of something, there was no getting away. He had a punch equivalent to the kick of a Clydesdale, he could just about lift somebody off the ground with an uppercut, and he took to grappling as a wonderful release. Steve never did anything by halves. I remember one time the guys were telling him that a good body shot could really wind someone. Steve suddenly said, “No one’s given me a good body shot. Try to drop me with a good one so I know what it feels like.” Steve opened up his arms and Dan just pile drove him. Steve said, in between gasps, “Thanks, mate. That was great, I get your point.” I would join in and spar or work the pads, or roll around until I was absolutely exhausted. Steve would go until he threw up. I’ve never seen anything like it. Some MMA athletes are able to seek that dark place, that point of total exhaustion--they can see it, stare at it, and sometimes get past it. Steve ran to it every day. He wasn’t afraid of it. He tried to get himself to that point of exhaustion so that maybe the next day he could get a little bit further. Soon we were recruiting the crew, anyone who had any experience grappling. Guys from the tiger department or construction were lining up to have a go, and Steve would go through the blokes one after another, grappling away. And all the while I loved it too. Here was something else that Steve and I could do together, and he was hilarious. Sometimes he would be cooking dinner, and I’d come into the kitchen and pat him on the bum with a flirtatious look. The next thing I knew he had me in underhooks and I was on the floor. We’d be rolling around, laughing, trying to grapple each other. It’s like the old adage when you’re watching a wildlife documentary: Are they fighting or mating? It seems odd that this no-holds-barred fighting really brought us closer, but we had so much fun with it. Steve finally built his own dojo on a raised concrete pad with a cage, shade cloth, fans, mats, bags, and all that great gear. Six days a week, he would start grappling at daylight, as soon as the guys would get into work. He had his own set of techniques and was a great brawler in his own right, having stood up for himself in some of the roughest, toughest, most remote outback areas. Steve wasn’t intimidated by anyone. Dan Higgins brought a bunch of guys over from the States, including Keith Jardine and other pros, and Steve couldn’t wait to tear into them. He held his own against some of the best MMA fighters in the world. I always thought that if he’d wanted to be a fighter as a profession, he would have been dangerous. All the guys heartily agreed.

Getting back to my belief in eternal assurance, perhaps the best argument I can make can be found in the four words found in Matthew seven, ‘I never knew you.

Jesus said in John chapter ten, ‘My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.’ “This further proves that God is in control, not sinful man. He does the choosing, not us. The point I’m trying to make is that Christ paid too high a price to ever lose a single sheep He purchased with His own blood and received of His Father. God shall not lose one of His elect, not one, even in that person’s last moments! “The thief on the cross is a perfect example of this. He may be the best example that grace doesn’t depend on what we do or don’t do, but on what God has done for us. This man lived a wretched life and knew he was fully deserving of God’s judgment. Yet, what did Christ say to him on the cross?

Blue rolled onto his back, letting them know he was available for tummy-scratching any time.

The BIRD Method for Making Good Choices  B = Breathe - When faced with a decision, take a slow, deep breath first. This stimulates your reasoning brain! I = Identify - What exactly is the situation? What are your alternatives? Say them aloud. R = Reason - What would happen if you made each option? Would it benefit you or harm you and others? D = Decide - Make the best decision based on your reasoning.

As ever, he thought of Lauren. You would love him, he thought. He’s my best friend, outside of you.

I went back in and grabbed my running clothes, then changed in the bathroom. I opened the door to the bathroom, stopping when I saw Kaidan's toiletry bag on the sink. I was overcome with curiosity about his cologne or aftershave, because I'd never smelled it on anyone else before. Feeling sneaky, I prodded one finger into the bag and peeked. No cologne bottle. Only a razor, shaving cream, toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. I picked up the deodorant, pulled off the lid, and smelled it. Nope, that wasn't it. The sound of Kaidan's deep chuckle close to the doorway made me scream and drop the deodorant into the sink with a clatter. I smacked one hand to my chest and grabbed the edge of the sink with the other. He laughed out loud now. “Okay, that must have looked really bad.” I spoke to his reflection in the mirror, then fumbled to pick up the deodorant. I put the lid on and dropped it in his bag. “But I was just trying to figure out what cologne you wear.” My face was on fire as Kaidan stepped into the small bathroom and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. I stepped away. He seemed entertained by my predicament. “I haven't been wearing any cologne.” “Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Well, I didn't see any, so I thought it might be your deodorant, but that's not it either. Maybe it's your laundry detergent or something. Let's just forget about it.” “What is it you smell, exactly?” His voice took on a husky quality, and it felt like he was taking up a lot of room. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Something strange was going on here. I stepped back, hitting the tub with my heel as I tried to put the scent into words. “I don't know. It's like citrus and the forest or something...leaves and tree sap. I can't explain it.” His eyes bored into mine while he wore that trademark sexy smirk, arms still crossed. “Citrus?” he asked. “Like lemons?” “Oranges mostly. And a little lime, too.” He nodded and flicked his head to the side to get hair out of his eyes. Then his smile disappeared and his badge throbbed. “What you smell are my pheromones, Anna.” A small, nervous laugh burst from my throat. “Oh, okay, then. Well...” I eyed the small space that was available to pass through the door. I made an awkward move toward it, but he shifted his body and I stepped back again. “People can't usually smell pheromones,” he told me. “You must be using your extra senses without realizing it. I've heard of Neph losing control of their senses with certain emotions. Fear, surprise...lust.” I rubbed my hands up and down my upper arms, wanting nothing more than to veer this conversation out of the danger zone. “Yeah, I do have a hard time reining in the scent sometimes,” I babbled. “It even gets away from me while I sleep now and then. I wake up thinking Patti's making cinnamon rolls and it ends up being from someone else's apartment. Then I'm just stuck with cereal. Anyway...” “Would you like to know your own scent?” he asked me. My heart swelled up big in my chest and squeezed small again. This whole scent thing was way too sensual to be discussed in this small space. Any second now my traitorous body would be emitting some of those pheromones and there'd be red in my aura. “Uh, not really,” I said, keeping my eyes averted. “I think I should probably go.” He made no attempt to move out of the doorway. “You smell like pears with freesia undertones.” “Wow, okay.” I cleared my throat, still refusing eye contact. I had to get out of there. “I think I'll just...” I pointed to the door and began to shuffle past him, doing my best not to brush up against him. He finally took a step back and put his hands up by his sides to show that he wouldn't touch me. I broke out of the confined bathroom and took a deep breath.

We have the very best people, who will maintain social media in your voice and speaking on subjects designed to create and enhance a following of you as a person, which will, of course, feed into your readership.

Good afternoon, residents! A reminder that our salsa dance class starts in ten minutes.” “Shall we go to that, Gram-Gram?” I said. “A lot of times, meeting someone in person is best.” “Only women go to salsa dancing.” “Maybe you should become a lesbian, then. It would solve that pesky life expectancy problem.

I’ll

Then she slammed the door. Opened it and slammed it again, just in case he missed the point.

The best thing in a girl’s life is a father she can count on.

Sympathy, not pity. There's a huge difference, and we widows appreciate it, let me tell you.

I decide I feel fond of him. And hey, fond is underrated. Fond can last a lifetime. Fond doesn't leave scars.

The thing is, when you lose someone like we have...it's like part of your heart is cut out. And you always worry about how much more you can afford to lose.

The whole bringing sexy back...you know that song? By that cute boy?” “Yeah, I know it,” Faith said grimly. “Who is he again?” “Justin Timberlake.” “Right. “Bring Sexy Back” or something. Well, I didn’t know sexy was gone. Now Carl wants me to be all creative. You know what he brought back from Costco last week? Eight cans of whipped cream, Faith. Eight.” “That’s a lot,” Faith said. Time to swear off dairy. “And it’s having the opposite effect. Right? Like, the storm of love I used to have has dried to a mist, because all of a sudden, plain old marital brevity isn’t good enough. Oh, and the other day, Abby walked in on us, and she’s not speaking to me at the moment. Last week, Faith, I had a mammogram, you know?” Faith looked up sharply. “Is everything okay?” “Sure! But I was looking forward to it! Like, that was my special alone time, just me and the boob squisher. I didn’t have to talk dirty to Carl or wear Vulcan ears—” “Oh, boy.

It’s no surprise that many later analysts, in judging these and other actions and statements by Diem in the course of 1955, depicted him as a power-hungry and hypocritical autocrat, a reactionary mandarin, a pliant U.S. puppet, and nothing more. But this is insufficient. As recent scholarship has demonstrated, Diem was a modernizer of sorts, a man who had his own vision for Vietnam’s future and who sought to strike a balance between progress and Vietnam’s cultural traditions. “We are not going to go back to a sterile copy of the mandarin past,” Diem told journalist Marguerite Higgins. “We are going to adapt the best of our heritage to the modern situation.”15 Along with his brother and chief adviser Ngo Dinh Nhu, he embraced the ideology of personalism, which was rooted in the efforts of humanist Roman Catholic intellectuals in interwar France to find a third way to economic development, between liberal democracy and Communism. A key figure was philosopher Emmanuel Mounier, who expounded his ideas in books and in the journal Esprit. For Nhu, an intellectual and a graduate of France’s L’École des chartes, personalism’s emphasis on the value of community, rather than individualism, while at the same time avoiding the dehumanizing collectivism of socialism, held tremendous appeal and could complement the traditional concern of Vietnamese culture with social relationships.

Maybe love isn't just a bouquet of roses once in a while. Maybe it's just sticking it out when it's hard, when you're mad, when you're tired.

Get out of bed. Go to classes. Try to be normal, and pretty soon all that grief you carry...it gets easier.

It’s best not to be too moral. You cheat yourself out of too much life. Aim above morality.

droom van een man

So I guess I’m ready to...start dating. I want to get married again. Have a family.” Ethan leans forward, causing Fat Mikey to jump off his lap. “I see,” he says. I look at the floor for a second. “Right.” Risking a peek at Ethan, I add, “So we should probably stop sleeping together.

try our best not to expose ourselves to people who will pick us apart and criticize the goals we’ve decided to chase. We need to harness every ounce of positive energy we can in order to pull off big ideas. Be careful who you consult with, who you let into your circles, and who you trust with the things you value most. I warn people who are incubating brand-new companies or ideas that these new ventures are very fragile in the beginning. Cradle your dreams with the utmost care. You need to create the right environment to stick with your nascent plans and keep your instincts from getting drowned out. Many of us have a predisposition for self-loathing, a secret feeling so shameful that we often conceal it even from our closest loved ones. So the last thing we need are even more negative voices to lend credence to the skeptics in our own heads—especially in the early, more tenuous days of a new venture.

Parenting isn’t always a peachy-colored glow. Half the time, it’s just showing up and doing your best.

In a way, Emerson's list taught me something I hadn't anticipated. You didn't get everything in life. I'd always thought if you worked hard enough and tried to be your best self, the universe would listen. But it didn't always. As my grandfather used to say, God was not a grocer; you didn't hand him a list and have him go through it, checking off everything you'd asked for. You could be fulfilled just the same...and you were also allowed to be sad once in a while.

The best leaders make decisions that masquerade as data-driven choices when they are actually what I call gut sandwiches: data sandwiched between insights and intuition that we can’t justify with numbers alone.

But here’s something I do know—the gifts God placed in us for His glory and for the furthering of His Kingdom here on earth are the very things we will bring into eternity with us. Imagine looking and feeling our very best in a place where we will never grow tired of worshipping God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit… “Not only that, we will have the ability to think in Heaven, feel and emote, but without ever shedding tears, getting sick or battling boredom. The instant you step into eternity, you will still be you; but not the sinless version of yourself, the redeemed version, personality and all!

Vice? Virtue? It’s best not to be too moral. You cheat yourself out of too much life. Aim above morality. As Confucius says, ‘Don’t simply be good. Make good things happen.

Romans 8:28 to her best friend, “For God works all things for good, for those who love him and are called by his name.

Listen to me. I chose your parents out of more than a hundred couples, because I thought they would be best for you. I put you in their arms, literally. And it killed me. Part of me died that day. But if I could travel back in time, I’d do it again. They did a better job than I ever could have because they were adults. They wanted a child. They had jobs, a house, savings. I was seventeen. Seventeen! Not even old enough to vote! Do you feel ready to raise a child? Take care of an infant? Even if your parents would help? Do you?” He started to say something, then changed his mind. After a second, he shook his head. “No.

The universe wasn’t as convenient as the crew wanted it to be; almost as if organics aren’t the pinnacle of creation. Well, natural organics anyway: some organics are the best of both paths. Despite

Dad Higgins always said to assume the best of people but if they showed their true colors, believe them.

The best thing a man can do for his children is love their mother?

It wasn’t bad, for a while playing around alone, and calling myself a grass-widow, as a joke. But the real thing is an entirely different matter. It’s no fun being an extra woman of any kind for long, in society. If you don’t own a husband, or a brother, or some two-legged article in trousers, you drop out of things—out of evening things, anyhow. Of course, there are luncheons, and teas, and women’s shindies left, but I get on best with men, and I look best in evening clothes, too. I’m the kind, anyhow, who wants to take in everything that’s going. The more places you’re seen at the more you go to, and it’s just life to me to keep going!

But that is just another way of saying that government, at its best, has never managed more than a marginally survivable diet for those who would otherwise starve, hasty and meager medical treatment for those who would otherwise die a little sooner, perhaps without pain, without treatment, moderately efficient sewage disposal, garbage removal and excellent fire protection, and a few circuses to amuse those alert enough to seek out or invent their own amusements. There is no limit on the amount of misery.

I give you guys credit: when you're liberal, you're liberal as hell, except if it's whether we oughta sell some more Phantoms to a warmongering nation that mongers with UJA money, but when you decide that you're gonna be bigots, there isn't another group in the world that can touch you for it. You're the best believers there is.

3 The Park that Barks One of the best things about living on a farm is that there’s lots of space. You can run around with other animal friends. You can dash through the corn maze. Or you can explore a brand-new path through the woods with your best friend. Scrapper and I were doing that now. Hank, Imani, and Wyatt walked with

Verse sixteen is the only place in scripture where the word ‘Armageddon’ is mentioned. Even as I speak, the armies are gathering for this final battle. The Hebrew translation for Mount Megiddo is Mount of Slaughter. ‘Mar’ means mount and ‘Megiddo’ means ‘slaughter.’ Most mark takers on the planet are familiar with the term ‘Battle of Armageddon,” but their perceptions about it are jaded at best.

from the book of Isaiah, chapter twenty-five, verses six through nine. This is what the prophet had to say about it. ‘On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine—the best of meats and the finest of wines. On this mountain he will destroy the shroud that enfolds all peoples, the sheet that covers all nations; he will swallow up death forever.’ “The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove his people’s disgrace from all the earth. The Lord has spoken. In that day they will say, ‘Surely this is our God; we trusted in him, and he saved us. This is the Lord, we trusted in him; let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.

Wouldn’t it be best to tell the police what Jamie said