Jewelry Gift Quotes

Link says if a girl says not to get her a birthday present that means get me a birthday present and make sure it’s jewelry.

That whole week, we started to divide things into those two categories: anything or something. A piece of jewelry bougth at a department store: anything. A piece of jewelry made by hand: something. A dollar: anything. A sand dollar: something. A gift certificate: anything. An IOU for two hours of starwatching: something. A drunk kiss at a party: anything. A sober kiss alone in a park: something.

Consider ourselves fortunate." Maldynado's jaw slackened. "How so?" "Amaranthe's birthday is next week and, with our limited funds, I didn't think I'd be able to find her a gift." "So, you're getting her...dead bodies?" "Perfect, don't you think?" Books smiled. "Most women like jewelry and flowers." "Do you honestly believe she would prefer jewelry over a mystery to solve?" Maldynado jiggled the key fob thoughtfully, then nodded toward the bodies. "Can we say one is from me?

And Rhys had given me the best gift I’d ever received. He was right—it wasn’t a fancy purse or diamond jewelry, but I would much rather have one sketch from him than a hundred Tiffany diamonds. Anyone could buy a diamond. No one except him could’ve drawn me the way he did, and it didn’t escape my notice this was the first time he’d ever shared his art with me. “It’s all right.” He shrugged. “It’s not all right, it’s beautiful,” I repeated. “Seriously, thank you. I’ll treasure this forever.” I never thought I’d see the day, but Rhys blushed. Actually blushed. I watched in fascination as the red spread across his neck and cheeks, and the desire to trace its path with my tongue gripped me. But of course, I couldn’t do that.

And Rhys had given me the best gift I’d ever received. He was right—it wasn’t a fancy purse or diamond jewelry, but I would much rather have one sketch from him than a hundred Tiffany diamonds. Anyone could buy a diamond. No one except him could’ve drawn me the way he did, and it didn’t escape my notice this was the first time he’d ever shared his art with me.

I know that my grandmother certainly did nothing to warrant my mother stealing all of her jewelry that my grandfather had given her as gifts over the years, just so she could peddle it for heroin on the street. Those were precious metals and gems that could never be replaced, and each one had a story behind it. A love story between my grandparents, that my mother flushed down a proverbial toilet so that she could shoot up, throw up and pass out.

Post kept bound books with typed lists of gifts sent and received ... jeweler Harry Winston sent her a box of cheese

I don't want any money for it," he said. "It's a gift." Scarlett's mouth dropped open. The line was so closely, so carefully drawn where gifts from men were concerned. "Candy and flowers, dear," Ellen had said time and again, "and perhaps a book of poetry or an album or a small bottle of Florida water are the only things a lady may accept from a gentleman. Never, never any expensive gift, even from your fiance. And never any gift of jewelry or wearing apparel, not even gloves or handkerchiefs. Should you accept such gifts, men would know you were no lady and would try to take liberties.

Death and Dying from the Animal’s Viewpoint   Us humans are extremely attached to our bodies. We adorn them with beautiful jewelry. We lavish them with lovely clothes. We work them out in health clubs and participate in various exercise routines. We stare at them in the mirror and determine ways that we can make them prettier, skinnier, more muscular, healthier, stronger and more perfect, or whatever. We use our time and energy cooking for them and feeding them. We fill them up with all kinds of medicines, drugs and other products to make them better when we forget how wonderfully they serve us. Sometimes, we even listen to them when they get tired and tell us to slow down and rest.   But the thing is, we are not our bodies. Our bodies are simply the vehicles or the cases or the shells which house us.   The animals already know this.   From their perspective, they know that they are not their body, and therefore, they are much less attached to it. They know that they will always be, with or with out a body, so they don’t feel as attached to those bodies as we humans do.

A jewelry box? Ballerinas? She'd been such an active girl that any jewelry she'd been given would have been lost or broken right away. It was Faye Marie who'd loved- "My sister," she gasped, then louder. "My sister!" She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. "My lord, I beg pardon of you, but you're mistaken. I believe you gifted that treasure box to my older sister, Faye Marie. She's the one who loved ballerinas. I was obsessed with-" "Pegasus." The old justice's eyes melted from cold to kindness. "It was a trick question. I'd forgotten your birthday was so close to mine, and shared my spice cake out of pure guilt." His lined face wrinkled as he smiled with a fond memory. "You were a kind little soul, unspoiled for a girl raised in such wealth. You forgave me instantly and informed me that spice cake was, indeed, your favorite present ever received.

Oh, Cole,” she said, “the jewelry box is lovely—” “It’s not for jewelry.” She gazed up at him, surprised by his somber tone. “Then what—” “It’s a memory box, Devon. Something in which to store all those memories you collect, so you’ll never lose a single one.” He paused, looking both tender and serious at once. “Unlike the wedding gift you gave me, this one comes with strings attached. If you accept it, I expect the next fifty years of your life in return to help fill it up.” Devon bit her lip to hide a wayward, trembling smile. “Only the next fifty?” He shrugged. “We can negotiate after that.” She nodded, swallowing past the tight knot in her throat. “That sounds like a pretty fair deal to me.

Everywhere there is beauty, my dear. And those who draw our eye, our ear, any bit of our attention to this beauty are the artists among us. Whether the beauty is a sculpture or a piece of jewelry. A sonata or a sitting room. A well-told story or a well-proportioned building, or even a well-oiled machine. Let us never minimize the gifts of those who bring us beauty in whatever form they are skilled to bring it.

Hey, Hailey, want a bracelet?” Pearl asked. Everyone turned to look at her. Stilted conversation was one thing. Gifts were quite another. “Uh…sure,” Hailey said. She turned and unzipped the small pouch on her backpack. As she dug through it, Ria whacked Pearl on the arm. “You’re gonna make her jewelry?” Ria whispered. “Ow! What’s the big deal?” Pearl whispered back. “That girl does not deserve presents,” Ria replied. “Well, I can’t take it back now,” Pearl said, looking miserable.

It still shocks me that this comes as a surprise to most men, adorable idiots that ye are, but doona ye ken a woman who is not after you for yer title and yer fortune needs to be wooed?” “Wooed?” The word tasted as foreign in his mouth as the idea was to his thoughts. “Ye mean, gifts and jewelry—” “Nay, dammit.” She pressed a beleaguered and dramatic hand to her forehead. “The most precious thing you can give a woman, a worthy woman, is intimacy, time, truth, safety, and friendship.” “Friendship?” He lifted his own hand to his temple, pressing at the place where his head was starting to pound. “Talk to her. Know her and let her know ye, as well. Intimacy is not only in the bedroom, ye know. To love each other, ye must first like each other. Do ye like her?

Daniel Giordano reached into his pocket and held out the beautiful, emerald necklace for his date. He'd met this woman in a night club two weeks before. He certainly didn't give her the expensive jewelry because of any emotional attachment on his part. The rich bachelor was careful about keeping a collection of extraordinary gifts inside of his penthouse to give to the women who pleased him the most. This was the second date with her in a week, and she was very good at satisfying his needs without hounding him about a relationship. Any such talk on that subject warranted indefinite distance. Daniel was a player and was perfectly happy with that decision. Life was just too short. "Oh my God! I love it!" "I bought it just for you, Monique," whispered Daniel as he fastened the clasp around her delicate neck. She

Neliss, why is this rug wet?” Legna peeked around the corner to glance at the rug in question, looking as if she had never seen it before. “We have a rug there?” “Did you or did you not promise me you were not going to practice extending how long you can hold your invisible bowls of water in the house? And what on earth is that noise?” “Okay, I confess to the water thing, which was an honest mistake, I swear it. But as for a noise, I have no idea what you are talking about.” “You cannot hear that? It has been driving me crazy for days now. It just repeats over and over again, a sort of clicking sound.” “Well, it took a millennium, but you have finally gone completely senile. Listen, this is a house built by Lycanthropes. It is more a cave than a house, to be honest. I have yet to decorate to my satisfaction. There is probably some gizmo of some kind lying around, and I will come across it eventually or it will quit working the longer it is exposed to our influence. Even though I do not hear anything, I will start looking for it. Is this satisfactory?” “I swear, Magdelegna, I am never letting you visit that Druid ever again.” “Oh, stop it. You do not intimidate me, as much as you would love to think you do. Now, I will come over there if you promise not to yell at me anymore. You have been quite moody lately.” “I would be a hell of a lot less moody if I could figure out what that damn noise is.” Legna came around the corner, moving into his embrace with her hands behind her back. He immediately tried to see what she had in them. “What is that?” “Remember when you asked me why I cut my hair?” “Ah yes, the surprise. Took you long enough to get to it.” “If you do not stop, I am not going to give it to you.” “Okay. I am stopping. What is it?” She held out the box tied with a ribbon to him and he accepted it with a lopsided smile. “I do not think I even remember the last time I received a gift,” he said, leaning to kiss her cheek warmly. He changed his mind, though, and opted to go for her mouth next. She smiled beneath the cling of their lips and pushed away. “Open it.” He reached for the ribbon and soon was pulling the top off the box. “What is this?” “Gideon, what does it look like?” He picked up the woven circlet with a finger and inspected it closely. It was an intricately and meticulously fashioned necklace, clearly made strand by strand from the coffee-colored locks of his mate’s hair. In the center of the choker was a silver oval with the smallest writing he had ever seen filling it from top to bottom. “What does it say?” “It is the medics’ code of ethics,” she said softly, taking it from him and slipping behind him to link the piece around his neck beneath his hair. “And it fits perfectly.” She came around to look at it, smiling. “I knew it would look handsome on you.” “I do not usually wear jewelry or ornamentation, but . . . it feels nice. How on earth did they make this?” “Well, it took forever, if you want to know why it took so long for me to make good on the surprise. But I wanted you to have something that was a little bit of me and a little bit of you.” “I already have something like that. It is you. And . . . and me, I guess,” he laughed. “We are a little bit of each other for the rest of our lives.” “See, that makes this a perfect symbol of our love,” she said smartly, reaching up on her toes to kiss him. “Well, thank you, sweet. It is a great present and an excellent surprise. Now, if you really want to surprise me, help me find out what that noise is.

You don't wear jewelry, do you? Besides your wedding ring, I mean?' 'Now often. If is not that I disapprove. I simply don't take the time to bother with it. I've been given a few trinkets over the years, but rarely wear them.' Thora looked down at her hand, the plain thin wedding band, the unadorned wrist, and a memory struck her. She said, 'Frank gave me a gift once - a find gold bracelet with a blue enamel heart dangling from it. He said it was to remind me that I was more than his helpmeet and housekeeper, but also an attractive woman. I was sure I'd break the delicate chain, and the heart clacked against the desk whenever I wrote in the ledger. So I put it back in its box, and there it has remained ever since.' Nan said gently, 'We've all been given gifts, Thors, and ought not to hide them away. They remind us that we are blessed and loved. They give pleasure to those who see them - especially to the one who bestowed the gift in the first place.

But are chocolates, roses, jewelry, and big fancy dinners what love is really about? Really? Those things can certainly be part of the equation, but the kind of love I think everyone needs is the love that’s already all around us. It’s love that is patient, kind, supportive, gentle, and accepting. It’s about caring, listening, and being present. It’s about forgiveness and understanding. It’s when someone brings you a cup of coffee or orders you an iced tea before you arrive, just because they know you like it. It’s your friend sending you an article or a poem she likes. Or someone calling just to check in on you. I’m not saying I don’t like flowers or beautiful dinners, because I do. But like my friend, I’ve often missed acknowledging and experiencing the gift of love that already surrounds me in my life. Yes, what the world needs now is more love. But what each of us also needs now is to see and experience the real hardworking love that’s already there for us in our lives every single day. We need to see it, feel it, and recognize it for what it is: real love in real life.

My eyes roved over each and every one of the horses, approximating their age and probably stage in training, assessing their form and temperament and noting their reproductive potential. Eventually it dawned on me that silence had fallen. I turned toward Grayden to offer some excuse, but to my surprise, he was gazing at me with affection and sympathy in his green eyes. He smiled and produced a small box, which he extended to me. “What’s this?” I asked, thoroughly confused. He shrugged. “A token of friendship. I would be honored if you would accept it.” Curiously, I took the box from his hand. Anticipating jewelry, I prepared for a show of fake enthusiasm. Such a gift would be a sweet gesture, and undoubtedly beautiful, but I was not one for baubles. The box did contain jewelry, but not of the type I supposed. On a lovely chain of gold hung a small, golden horse, head high, legs outstretched in a gallop. I looked at Grayden, stupefied, although I didn’t need to feign my pleasure. “As I said, your uncle told me of your love for horses,” he explained almost shyly. “That it was a love you shared with your father.” “But I…I don’t understand. What are you…?” Seeing how flustered I was, he reached out and took my hand. “I’m not asking for anything, Shaselle. I just…I think you’re used to being seen as a problem. Maybe it’s presumptuous of me to say that, but your family apologized for so many things about you that I can’t help drawing the conclusion.” Not sure how to react, I opted to remain silent. “I think you’re only a problem for those people who are trying to turn you into something you’re not.” “A lady?” I wryly suggested, regaining my sense of humor. I leaned back on the fence, certain he would agree. “No,” he said, and there was conviction in his voice. “They need to stop trying to turn a free spirit into a traditional wife.” I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Could he truly believe what he was saying? Men played games to placate women. But I knew of no man other than my father who would enjoy seeing a horse pendant around the neck of the woman he was courting. “I do have a question for you,” Grayden said, leaning against the fence next to me. He hesitated, obviously uncertain about where our relationship stood. “The Harvest Festical is approaching. If you have no other plans to attend, would you consider accompanying me?” My eyes again filled with tears. There was no good reason--why should I be breaking down now, when Grayden was being so understanding, so tolerant of my eccentricities? “Come,” he said softly. “I’ll take you back to your cousin.” I let him escort me into the house, feeling like an ungrateful fool. I hadn’t even thanked him for his gift, and I desperately wanted to do so. But I couldn’t conjure the words to convey how I was feeling, and so I murmured farewell at the door.

So how do my election law offenses compare to those of leading progressives? Well, let’s see. Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid took $31,000 in late 2013 from his campaign funds to buy jewelry for his granddaughter Ryan Elisabeth Reid’s wedding. In his campaign year-end report, Reid tried to hide his granddaughter’s relationship to him by simply listing the transaction as a “holiday gift” to one “Ryan Elisabeth.” The impression Reid sought to convey was that he was buying gifts for his supporters. When it came to light that Reid had funneled campaign money to his granddaughter, Reid agreed to repay the money, but waxed indignant at continuing questions from reporters. “As a grandparent,” he fumed, “I say enough is enough.” Although Reid’s case involves obvious corruption, the Obama administration has neither investigated nor prosecuted a case against this stalwart Obama ally.6 Bill Clinton, you may recall, had his own campaign finance controversy. Following the 1996 election, the Democratic National Committee was forced to return $2.8 million in illegal and improper donations, most of it from foreign sources. Most of that money was raised by a shady Clinton fundraiser named John Huang. Huang, who used to work for the Lippo Group, an Indonesian conglomerate, set up a fundraising scheme for foreign businessmen seeking special favors from the U.S. government to meet with Clinton, in exchange for large sums of money. A South Korean businessman had dinner with President Clinton in return for a $250,000 donation. Yogesh Gandhi, an Indian businessman who claimed to be related to Mahatma Gandhi, arranged to meet Clinton in the White House and be photographed receiving an award in exchange for a $325,000 contribution. Both donations were returned, but again, no official investigation, no prosecutions.7

She turned the water on again, rinsed a dish, put it in the dishwasher. “I know you didn’t have jewelry.” She listened. “Yes, Mother, other women would love what I have, but that’s not the point. The point is that a gift lacks something if I have to dictate exactly

What do you want to know, my pretty?" Gordoc asked, his expression one of puzzlement. "Do you want me to scare Merl off--thump him for you? Just tell him your Uncle Gordoc will have words with him if he offends you." "No, no, I don't mean that." Tashi smiled. "He's not insulted me--at least, not by Eastern standards, I suppose." She wrinkled her nose. "What's he done?" growled Ramil. "Well, first there's the gifts--flowers and jewelry, mainly. What should I say when he gives me things?" "Thank you' usually does the trick," said Gordoc

I did not have to say a word. The look on my face communicated everything to Jase Robertson when he presented me with my Christmas gift in 1988. It was a potted plant, not even a very big one or some exotic species, just an ordinary plant in a plain clay pot. Since I could not hide my confusion, I stared at him with a look that clearly said, “Are you kidding me?” Sensing that I was not exactly pleased with this present, Jase could hardly restrain himself from grinning as he told me to “dig around in the dirt.” As I dug, I found a small box covered in felt (and dirt). I knew immediately that it was a jewelry box but had no idea that the box held a beautiful engagement ring! Once again, the look on my face communicated everything I wanted to say, which was great, because I was so excited and surprised I could not speak. Jase looked at me and proposed in his unique way, not gushing about how much he loved me and tenderly asking for my hand in marriage. He simply said with completely confidence, “Well, you’re gonna marry me, aren’t ya?” Too thrilled and shocked to say very much, I managed to answer yes, and that was the beginning of a commitment the two of us still hold and treasure to this day, one that now includes our two amazing sons, Reed and Cole, and our remarkable daughter, Mia. We have a wonderful life together, but it did not just happen to us. Since the very beginning, when Jase and I first met, we have had challenges to overcome. We are still facing challenges, and with God’s grace and help, we are still overcoming them.

Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid took $31,000 in late 2013 from his campaign funds to buy jewelry for his granddaughter Ryan Elisabeth Reid’s wedding. In his campaign year-end report, Reid tried to hide his granddaughter’s relationship to him by simply listing the transaction as a “holiday gift” to one “Ryan Elisabeth.” The impression Reid sought to convey was that he was buying gifts for his supporters. When it came to light that Reid had funneled campaign money to his granddaughter, Reid agreed to repay the money, but waxed indignant at continuing questions from reporters. “As a grandparent,” he fumed, “I say enough is enough.” Although Reid’s case involves obvious corruption, the Obama administration has neither investigated nor prosecuted a case against this stalwart Obama ally.6

Due to their ceaseless imagination, empaths are great storytellers; they are constantly learning and asking questions. They are also very gentle and romantic; they have a passion for family history and will keep old photos, jewelry or other items of value that have been passed down from generations. They are often the ones who sit and listen to stories told by grandparents and great grandparents and hold a wealth of knowledge about the history of their family.

Carrying on Tradition One Gift at a Time.

I believe this is one of the oldest and most generous tricks the universe plays on us human beings, both for its own amusement and for ours: The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all and then stands back to see if we can find them. Bravery means doing something scary. Fearlessness means not even understanding what the word scary means. If you can't travel comfortably along your fear, then you'll never be able to go anywhere interesting or do anything interesting. Pure creativity is something better than a necessity; it's a gift. Our creativity is a wild and unexpected bonus from the universe. As a songwriter, the only thing I really do is make jewelry for the inside of other people's minds. The essential ingredients for creativity remain exactly the same for everybody: courage, enchantment, permission, persistence, trust and those elements are universally accessible. I think perfectionism is just a high-end, haute couture version of fear. We must understand that the drive for perfectionism is a corrosive waste of time, because nothing is ever beyond criticism. Far too many creative people have been taught to distrust pleasure and to put their faith in struggle alone. Too many artists still believe that anguish is the only truly authentic emotional experience. Don't rush through the experiences and circumstances that have the most capacity to transform you. Your ego is a wonderful servant, but it's a terrible master - because the only thing your ego ever wants is reward, reward and more reward. And since there's never enough reward to satisfy, your ego will always be disappointed. Left unmanaged, that kind of disappointment will rot you from the inside out. An unchecked ego is what the Buddhists call a "hungry ghost" - forever famished, eternally howling with need and greed.

It’s lovely,” she said in a voice void of emotion. Gray couldn’t look at Raj. The charm was gorgeous—more precious to her than any piece of jewelry. She was afraid he would sense how much the gift meant to her. “Thanks.” Raj

The cornbread necklace is a traditional piece of Cherokee jewelry. It is made of teardrop-shaped beads that are believed to be a gift from the Great Spirit. The Cherokee believe the corn crops watched the Cherokee as they walked along the Trail of Tears. The corn cried and drooped as it watched the Cherokee leave their land. Cherokee women strung the corn’s teardrops to create cornbeads, which were worn around the neck. This jewelry is worn as a reminder of this sad time in Cherokee history.

It’s lovely,” she said in a voice void of emotion. Gray couldn’t look at Raj. The charm was gorgeous—more precious to her than any piece of jewelry. She was afraid he would sense how much the gift meant to her. “Thanks.” Raj slouched back in his seat, all casual-cool. “A lot of luck it did you.” Gray squeezed the amulet in her hand as Raj had done moments before her. “I should go. My mom will worry.” Raj pushed back in his seat. “I’ll drive you to your car.” Gray thought they might arrive back

Silver. Hoards and hoards of silver, lining all the walls, piled as jewelry and cutlery on the ground, spilling out as coins and necklaces and rings from intricately- carved chests. Ancient suits of armor stand erect around me, made entirely of the accursed- metal.

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located in El Paseo, a slightly old-world marketplace downtown. Traditional Spanish architecture and winding adobe hallways led to quaint gift shops and jewelry stores. It was old-world meets tourist trap.

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His shoulders were straight, his back erect. He looked like a man. Like a king. It was impossible for such a thing to have occurred; and when would it have happened? Otho was a drunk and a womanizer. What did he know of love? Dorian spun Celaena with speed and dexterity, and she snapped into his arms, her shoulders rising with exhilaration. But she wasn’t in love with him—Otho hadn’t said that. He had seen no attachment on her part. And Celaena would never be that stupid. It was Dorian who was the fool—Dorian who would have his heart broken, if he did actually love her. Unable to look at his friend any longer, the Captain of the Guard left the ball. Kaltain watched in rage and agony as Lillian Gordaina and the Crown Prince of Adarlan danced and danced and danced. Even with a much more concealing mask, she would have recognized the upstart. And what sort of a person wore gray to a ball? Kaltain looked down at her dress and smiled. Bright shades of blue, emerald, and soft brown, her gown and matching peacock mask had cost as much as a small house. It was all a gift from Perrington, of course, along with the jewelry that decorated much of her neck and arms. It was certainly not the dull, drab mess of crystal that the conniving harlot wore. Perrington stroked her arm, and Kaltain turned to him with fluttering eyelashes. “You look handsome tonight, my love,” she said, adjusting a gold chain across his red tunic. His face quickly matched the color of his clothes. She wondered if she could bear the repulsion of kissing him. She could always keep refusing, just as she had for the past

We also cannot know whether Frank’s closeness to Archie Butt ever extended beyond the bounds of mere friendship. Archie was far too careful to ever pen anything as indiscreet as Millet’s correspondence with Stoddard. Yet within Archie’s letters there are enough clues to picture him as a Ragtime-era gay man hiding in plain sight. Archie had the same gift for observation and waspish wit found in gay diarists from Horace Walpole and Henry “Chips” Channon to Cecil Beaton and Andy Warhol. He also had a remarkable eye for the details of women’s clothes and jewelry and could, for example, describe from memory a selection of First Lady Edith Roosevelt’s gowns and include such details as “black velvet with passementerie down the front.

list of documents that may be required. It can look intimidating, especially if you’ve not been actively involved in your family finances, but don’t panic. If you can’t find all of them or don’t have access, there is a later step in the divorce process called “discovery,” when you can legally compel the other side to provide copies of anything else you need: •Individual income tax returns (federal, state, local) for past three years •Business income tax returns (federal, state, local) for past three years •Proof of your current income (paystubs, statements, or paid invoices) •Proof of spouse’s income (paystubs, statements, or paid invoices) •Checking, savings, and certificate statements (personal and business) for past three years •Credit card and loan statements (personal and business) for past three years •Investment, pension plan, and retirement account statements for past three years •Mortgage statement and loan documents for all properties you have an interest in •Real estate appraisals •Property tax documents •Employment contracts •Benefit statements •Social Security statements •Life, homeowner’s, and auto insurance policies •Wills and trust agreements •Health insurance cards •Vehicle titles and/or registration •Monthly budget worksheet •List of personal property (furnishings, jewelry, electronics, artwork) •List of property acquired by gift or inheritance or owned prior to marriage •Prenuptial agreements •Marriage license •Prior court orders directing payment of child support or spousal support Your attorney or financial advisor may ask for additional documents specific to your case. Some of these may not be applicable to you.

Numerous gifted objects; black granite Etchings, carved statues, broken goddesses, Inscriptions, pottery, jewelry, rough-hewn Garnets, flowers, consecrated herbs, skulls, Gold ornaments, weapons, prized artifacts; Sacrifices, ancestors’ ageless prayers Left with olden Father Thames. For them, The sinuous streams were alive, full worlds Of votive offerings inside murky depths, Lifeblood pleas, observances thereafter Troubles now vanished, solemn promises, Treasures carefully bestowed upon Spirits, watchful deities; faithfully Invoking his ancient name Tamesas.

It was difficult finding jewelry for you,” he remarked. “You’re too beautiful for diamonds. They’re meant to add light and you’re already blinding. So I got you something that gives off no light at all, so the jewelry will bask in your own enchanting glow.

In Chinese weddings, the bride’s jewelry is the last to go on, and is usually a gift from her parents.

I thought about a game we loved to play called The Heavenly City. All the kids would design our mansions in Heaven, the ultimate reward we were told we'd be granted in exchange for all the deprivations and pain during our lives on Earth. Different kids had different dreams: Many wanted a house all to themselves, all the food they could imagine. And typical kid desires too: pets, toys, candy. All the things we never had. But not me. I didn't care about streets of gold or all the clothes in the world, or the real jewelry that Dorothea and the other girls fancied. I wanted books. I had a secret dream that my mansion in Heaven would be a giant library, beautiful, with tall shelves in every room, filled with every book that had ever been written. I pictured myself like the cartoon Belle, a sparkling girl with a worldly name that didn't come from anywhere in the Bible and meant beautiful, who'd been gifted the most precious thing I could imagine- the freedom to read, the ability to teach herself anything she wanted. Even though she was a prisoner in the Beast's castle, Belle had the freedom of her own mind.

You brought weapons to Solstice?' I asked, leaning against the door frame. ... Cassian shrugged, plopping onto the bed, which was better suited to a child than an Illyrian warrior. 'Some might be gifts.' 'And the rest?' Cassian toed off his boots and leaned against the headboard, folding his arms behind his head as his wings draped to the floor. 'The females bring their jewelry. I bring my weapons.' 'I know a few females in this house who might take offense to that.' Cassian offered me a wicked grin in response.

Find one thing you can actively complete and give yourself over to it, even if it is of no immediate benefit to anybody but yourself. Maybe you spend an afternoon wallpapering your bathroom, or baking bread, or doing nail art, or making jewelry. It could be two hours spent meticulously producing your mom’s fried chicken recipe, or ten hours building a miniature replica of Notre Dame Cathedral in your basement. Allow yourself the gift of absorption.

I wish I knew if she’s broke or just cheap. The escort business moved online and a fire gutted Tabitha’s gorgeous old mansion. I could have cried for the mulberry wallpaper, the rosewood and Venetian glass gone up in flames, all of Tabitha’s old ballet costumes and her cabinet of jewelry gifted by decades of lovers.

Little stones or shiny sweet wrappers were left in the garden or dropped near my feet. Paper clips and bobby pins, pieces of jewelry or rubbish, sometimes shells or rocks or bits of plastic. I kept each in a box that year by year had to grow bigger. Even when I forgot to feed the birds they brought me gifts. They were mine, and I theirs, and we loved each other. So it went for four years, every day without fail. Until I left not only my mother but my twelve kindred spirits, too. Sometimes I dream of them waiting in that tree for a girl who would never come, bringing gift after precious gift to lie unloved in the grass.

She had everything from children’s books to the classics. She read it all and cherished each one. Whenever my pappa was away on travel, he would find a rare book and bring it home to her as a present, and she would be overjoyed. Nanna had no need for fancy jewelry or extravagant gifts, all she wanted was to read something that transported her into another world.

Jewelry, perfume and candy are fine but for a very special gift, Give a book, maybe one or two of mine They're sure to give readers a lift booksbybarbara.com

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Cassian forced himself to sit perfectly still as Rhys dragged a hand through his black hair. “Once, the High Fae were more elemental, more given to reading the stars and crafting masterpieces of art and jewelry and weaponry. Their gifts were rawer, more connected to nature, and they could imbue objects with that power.” Cassian instantly knew where this was headed. “Nesta put her power in those swords?

Raksha Bandhan 2023: Auspicious Date and Time of Raksha Bandhan Rakhi, also known as Raksha Bandhan, is a traditional Hindu holiday that honors the protective and loving ties that exist between siblings, particularly between brothers and sisters. The event is normally celebrated on the day of the full moon in the Hindu month of Shravana, which usually falls in August. Raksha Bandhan 2023 Overview :- Festivals Name Raksha Bandhan Also Known as Rakhi, Saluno, Silono, Rakri Observed by Hindus Traditionally Type Religious Cultural Date Purnima (Full Moon) of Shrawan Holiday Type Restricted Holiday Raksha Bandhan 2023 - Auspicious Date and Time of Raksha Bandhan: Raksha Bandhan is observed on the day of the full moon in the month of Shravan, as it is every year. Raksha Bandhan is celebrated over two days this year, just like it was last year. This time, the full moon will be seen beginning at 10:59 on August 30 and continuing through 7:06 on August 31. Raksha Bandhan can be observed during the Uddhiya period, the only time frame we use for festivals, but this time, on August 30, the timing means that Bhadra cannot be avoided. On August 31, Raksha Bandhan can be honored. On August 30, at 10:59, the full moon will start, but Bhadra will not. Rakhi can only be tied with the thread after 9:03 p.m. to commemorate Raksha Bandhan. Between 5:32 and 6:32, when Bhadra is on the tail, Raksha Bandhan can be seen. If Bhadra is on Mukha, which occurs between 6:32 to 8:13, Rakhi cannot be observed. The August 31 full moon will be visible till 7:06 in the morning. Raksha Bandhan 2023 can be celebrated on August 31 if you follow Udaya Tithi. A Basis of Raksha Bandhan's Traditions and Significance may be Found Here: Tie a Rakhi: Sisters tie their brothers' wrists with a sacred thread known as a "Rakhi" on the occasion of Raksha Bandhan. This thread stands for their love, respect, and promise of security. Brothers promise to look out for and help their sisters throughout their lives in exchange for gifts or other tokens of appreciation from their sisters. Prayers and Rituals: The day starts with rituals and prayers. Before tying the Rakhi, sisters regularly do an aarti (a ritual involving a lamp) and place a tilak (a sacred mark) on their brothers' foreheads. Exchange of Gifts: Along with the Rakhi, presents are given and received as tokens of affection and respect. Sisters may receive gifts from brothers in the form of cash, garments, jewelry, or other items. Family Gathering: Families regularly get together for Raksha Bandhan. Even if they are separated by distance, siblings usually make an effort to be together and celebrate special occasions. Symbolism: The holiday represents the special and close relationship between siblings. Not only do family members participate, but also cousins and close relatives. The Rakhi thread is regarded as a representation of safety and an ongoing expression of the bond between brothers and sisters. Historical and Mythological Significance: Many historical and mythical stories are connected to the celebration. One well-known story has the queen Draupadi securing a piece of her sari to the bleeding wrist of Lord Krishna. Krishna promised to look out for her in return. The relationship between Lord Yama, the God of Death, and his sister Yamuna is the subject of another story. Yama's sister received the blessing that anyone who ties a Rakhi to him will live forever. Overall, Raksha Bandhan is a happy holiday that enhances family relationships and honors the emotional bond between siblings. It is a season of affection, respect, and support of bonds between siblings. To Learn More, Go Here

When Enrique had realized that Carolina might not be going home for Christmas Eve, he had snuck away to the gift shop in Carmel to get her a present. There hadn't been too many options, but he purchased a pretty butterfly necklace with matching earrings. Once they were alone in the room, he took out the small wrapped box. Her eyes lit up. "Enrique! You didn't have to get me anything." He grinned. "I know. But I wanted to. Open it." She carefully unwrapped the box. "Oh, mariposas! I love these. Gracias." "You know, the butterfly represents rebirth. Carolina, you can do anything. I know you are struggling with what is going on with your family, but I want you to know that you are amazing, and I believe in you.

But that’s old thinking. I believe the future of jewelry is gifts to ourselves. I want us to mark our own milestones, big and small.

AJ huffed a heavy sigh. “I’m not good at this.” She sat on the edge of the bed with her hands tucked under her legs. “Good at what?” “This…” he motioned between them “…this relationship stuff. I should care enough to ask you more about your past, the blood thing, the ridiculous profession you’ve chosen, the reason why you’re living with your brother … but I’m too fucking selfish. I can barely deal with my own pathetic life, I just—” She shook her head. “It’s fine. I have nothing to tell.” His head jerked back a fraction as his eyelids fluttered with rapid blinks. “What is that supposed to mean?” Jillian lifted a single shoulder. “You act like I’m on a cliff’s edge just waiting, begging you to ask me about my past and my ‘issues,’ but I’m not. The fact that you don’t ask me about it is why this…” she mimicked his motion between them “…relationship works.” He nodded with an absent stare. She’d gone too far. It was a slippery balance between too much and not enough. It’s human nature to desire what’s perceived as the unattainable. Was she making her past seem too unattainable? “Don’t.” AJ’s gaze snapped to hers. “Don’t what?” “I was simply stating a fact. Don’t interpret it as a game. I’m not playing hard to get with my emotions. It’s not a trap.” He rested his hands on his hips and stared at his feet. “It’s a gift, AJ. You will never have to be my gallant knight on his trusty steed, drawing your sword to defend my honor. I will never gawk at sparkly diamonds in the jewelry store window or ask you where you see our relationship going.” “You sound callous, but I know you’re not. I’ve experienced your compassion.” “That’s a gift too. I’ve never been compassionate toward you with an ulterior motive. I’m not callous. I’m strong. It takes a lot of strength to give unconditionally because the ego is a savage, demanding beast.” He narrowed his eyes a bit. “So nothing … you don’t want anything from me in return.” Jillian smirked, prowling toward him. “I’m compassionate, not a saint.” She slid her hands under his shirt, tracing the definition of each firm plane of muscle. He quirked a brow. “So you want me for my body?” A provocative smirk stole her lips as she pushed up his shirt and teased her teeth over his skin. “I think we both know it’s not for your stellar personality.” “You’re such a bitch,” he growled, grabbing her ass and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and laughed. “But an honest bitch.

You got me another pair of earrings? Amon, I already have more than enough," I'd admonished him softly, gazing at him with tenderness. "You love jewelry, Lizzie mine. And I love gifting it to you. Do you begrudge me this small pleasure?" "Of course not. Never. Thank you," I'd leaned into him, giving him a kiss and allowing him to put the earrings on.