Interim Love Quotes

Most things are forgotten over time. Even the war itself, the life-and-death struggle people went through is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about everyday, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.

Isn't Bunson's training evil geniuses?" "Yes, mostly." "Well, is that wise? Having a mess of seedling evil geniuses falling in love with you willy-nilly? What if they feel spurned?" "Ah, but in the interim, think of the lovely gifts they can make you. Monique bragged that one of her boys made her silver and wood hair sticks as anti-supernatural weapons. With amethyst inlay. And another made her an exploding wicker chicken." "Goodness, what's that for?" Dimity pursed her lips. "Who doesn't want an exploding wicker chicken?

If anything happened to you, I'd be so destroyed they'd have to strap me to a bed and feed me through a tube. After five or six years, I might be capable of taking care of Rex. In the interim, you should assign a guardian.

She and I, we were girls who never said anything. Never wanted to assume anything. It was a coping mechanism, saving our faces for when guys like Quin came along and acted all nice towards us.

It still stung, knowing that he would rather see me with someone else than give me my moment, but I had to be mature about it. It wasn't about me.

I wish that I could put up yesterday’s evening sky for all posterity, could preserve a night of love, the sound of a mountain stream, a realization as it sets my mind afire, a dance, a day of harmony, ten thousand glorious days of clouds that will instead vanish and never be seen again, line them up in jars where they might be admired in the interim and tasted again as needed.

Some girls can't stand to be around the guy they like. They get really nervous, and rather than make fools of themselves, they just stay away. I was the opposite; the more I liked a guy, the more I wanted to be around him. I was the type who'd join the same org, or pick the same elective. Sure I was probably looking like a fool five times a day over a bunch of things, but I liked being close to someone I admired.

Because, though I'd seen and felt just a fraction of all the love in the world, I knew that when people thought of love they thought of moments. Whether or not a marriage worked out, or if they stayed together after graduation, or if they did go to the big dance together, the story's end mattered less, and the highlights in between mattered more. Those are what lingered, and what people can go back to, even when they had nothing left.

So, another thing I had in common with Kathy - ripe mangoes were, truly, the best thing ever. Ripe mangoes, the dark yellow ones, would be my true love.

When the Time Is Right: December 7 There are times when we simply do not know what to do, or where to go, next. Sometimes these periods are brief, sometimes lingering. We can get through these times. We can rely on our program and the disciplines of recovery. We can cope by using our faith, other people, and our resources. Accept uncertainty. We do not always have to know what to do or where to go next. We do not always have clear direction. Refusing to accept the inaction and limbo makes things worse. It is okay to temporarily be without direction. Say “I don’t know,” and be comfortable with that. We do not have to try to force wisdom, knowledge, or clarity when there is none. While waiting for direction, we do not have to put our life on hold. Let go of anxiety and enjoy life. Relax. Do something fun. Enjoy the love and beauty in your life. Accomplish small tasks. They may have nothing to do with solving the problem, or finding direction, but this is what we can do in the interim. Clarity will come. The next step will present itself. Indecision, inactivity, and lack of direction will not last forever. Today, I will accept my circumstances even if I lack direction and insight. I will remember to do things that make myself and others feel good during those times. I will trust that clarity will come of its own accord.

He went limp over her, cradling her to him as their panting breaths merged into one over seconds, moments. She clung to him, smoothing her hands over his back, pressing her lips to his flesh and knowing, more than she had ever known anything, that what she felt for him had gone too far. She loved him. That fact was so clear that she couldn’t believe she had ever doubted it. She loved him, just as she had loved him when they parted three years before. Just as she had loved him all throughout the interim of years that separated them.

Once the wedding gift was out of the way, Marlboro Man and I had to check one last item off our list before we entered the Wedding Zone: premarital counseling. It was a requirement of the Episcopal church, these one-hour sessions with the semiretired interim priest who led our church at the time. Logically, I understood the reasoning behind the practice of premarital discussions with a man of the cloth. Before a church sanctions a marriage union, it wants to ensure the couple grasps the significance and gravity of the (hopefully) eternal commitment they’re making. It wants to give the couple things to think about, ideas to ponder, matters to get straight. It wants to make sure it’s not sending two young lovers into what could be an avoidable domestic catastrophe. Logically, I grasped the concept. Practically, however, it was an uncomfortable hour of sitting across from a sweet minister who meant well and asked the right questions, but who had clearly run out of juice in the zest-for-marriage department. It was emotional drudgery for me; not only did I have to rethink obvious things I’d already thought about a thousand times, but I also had to watch Marlboro Man, a quiet, shy country boy, assimilate and answer questions put to him by a minister he’d only recently met on the subject of love, romance, and commitment, no less. Though he was polite and reverent, I felt for him. These were things cowboys rarely talked about with a third party.

But know this, the lass will wed you -- her words -- and if you wed another in the interim, it will go badly for you." Marcus smiled. He loved her and if it was in his power to do so, they would be wed.

The Huge Artifice: an interim assessment Enough of this great work has now appeared For sightings to be taken, the ground cleared, Though the main purpose - what it's all about In the thematic sense - remains in doubt. We can be certain, even at this stage, That seriousness adequate to engage Our deepest critical concern is not To be found here. First: what there is of plot Is thin, repetitive, leaning far too much On casual meetings, parties, fights and such, With that excessive use of coincidence Which betrays authorial inexperience. We note, besides these evident signs of haste, A great deal in most questionable taste: Too many sex-scenes, far too many coarse Jokes, most of which have long lost all their force. It might be felt that, after a slow start, Abundance incident made amends for art, But the work's 'greatness' is no more than size, While the shaping mind, and all that implies, Is on a trivial scale, as can be guessed From the brash nature of the views expressed By a figure in an early episode, who Was clearly introduced in order to Act as some kind of author-surrogate, Then hastily killed off - an unfortunate Bid to retrieve a grave strategic lapse. More damaging than any of this, the gaps In sensitivity displayed are vast. Concepts that have not often been surpassed For ignorance or downright nastiness - That the habit of indifference is less Destructive than the embrace of love, that crimes Are paid for never or a thousand times, That the gentle come to grief - all these are forced Into scenes, dialogue, comment, and endorsed By the main action, manifesting there An inhumanity beyond despair. One final point remains: it has been urged That a few characters are not quite submerged In all this rubbish, the they can display Reason, justice and forethought on their day, And that this partly exculpates the mind That was their author. Not at all. We find Many of these in the history of art (So this reviewer feels), who stand apart, Who by no purpose but their own begin To struggle free from a base origin.

He would let Violet find her own way and time to tell Elizabeth. In the interim, he would listen and hold her hand and offer his counsel, but he would not push. He understood now how deep her wounds ran, how hard it was for her to trust that she could make mistakes and still deserve love.

In the interim, she’d love herself the way she was, accept herself the way she was, and be happy.

How could anyone confuse fatalism with love? Maybe the earth is going to die. But why not stay the hands at its throat? Doesn't the nearness of an end only make the interim sweeter, more precious, and urge more determination to not go gently into that good night?

Mona’s reply was perceptive: Letters that aren’t out for a clear reply are really love letters in disguise…answer them just as cagily, or not at all…

And as my head hit the pillow that night, my prayer for my son remained simply that his last wish would finally be fulfilled…in some future moment through the same type of faith that allows a 600-year-old Quteniqua Yellowwood tree to grow from a single seed. His last wish being the chance of speaking to me about the one topic that his heart couldn’t find any rest while living on earth – that the true gift of that opportunity would truly come to fruition. In the interim, I had to follow in the words of Khalil Gibran when he said that there should be spaces between our togetherness to love one another “…but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your soul.” Space between our togetherness to find a way on its own accord, outside of the scrutiny of my mothering protection. That night, I went to bed with the reassuring, concluding words of Khalil Gibran “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters with seared scars.” Scars seared with the anointing warmth of love, a reminder of love’s miracle, and the hope that my loving son would find his peace even from beyond the grave since love makes whole the broken and crooked parts of every story, including stories already lived and wishes never fulfilled because they all stem from the same seeds… Inexhaustible Love.

The current spirit of our country inclines us to be troubled. It’s a sensible temptation. How can any one person or small group of people make a difference? How can we change and renew things so that our children grow up in a better world? We come back to a question suggested at the start of this book: How can we live in joy, and serve the common good as leaven, in a culture that no longer shares what we believe? The answer to that question springs from a simple historical fact: On a quiet Sunday morning two thousand years ago, God raised Jesus of Nazareth from the dead. This small moment, unseen by any human eye, turned the world upside down and changed history forever. It confirmed Jesus’ victory over death and evil. It liberated those living and dead who lay in bondage to their sins. An anonymous ancient homily for Holy Saturday, speaking in the voice of Jesus Christ, reminds us of the full import of his resurrection: I am your God, who for your sake [has] become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants, I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated. Jesus rose from the dead so that we could be joined to him and his victory. Believers know that Jesus was not only victorious then, in Jerusalem. He’ll also come in royal glory at the end of time, when he will judge the living and the dead. At Christ’s second coming, his kingdom will fully arrive. His reign will be complete. The time in which we find ourselves is an interim one. We may struggle as we seek to follow Jesus, but we also remember the great victories of our King: the victory in the past and the victory certain to come. And those victories give us hope. Hope

Eve taught me to look at the overall picture, to read the cards as art and intuition as much as a science. Women were more in touch with that innate sense than men. Women resonated with the cards. Rather than read the cards in order, I let the entire pattern seep in. I understood the 8 of Clubs and the Ace of Spades. The Queen of Diamonds, I sensed, would be a real person to provide the essentials of life. Then my heart sank when I saw the two Jacks, the Pretenders, the Liars who would upset my balance on the one hand, and try to exert power over me on the other. They framed the 2 of hearts. The Jacks would jeopardize my love life. I’d have to be wary in that domain. It had been quite a while since I had taken a lover. With this news, I would wait. I’d return to New York City, and meet two people who would be my Ace and my Queen. I took the calendar from the wall near the telephone, and sat down on Nestor’s chair. I stared at it, unbelieving; it had been six months since Nestor’s passing. I had spent half a year sorting through Nestor’s things, working, making no new friends, and taking no lovers. I had performed my duties, including marking the calendar mechanically. I operated in a daze. Several people had asked me if they could help. I didn’t understand, but now I knew. I had lost all sense of time and of myself, and I needed to rejoin life. My nineteenth birthday was just six months away. I would stay in Key West until then. In the interim, I would decide what I wanted to keep from Nestor’s legacy and, as he wished, place the rest.