Juliet Decisive Quotes

We cannot know the future. All we can do is face it bravely. We should take heed of those we love and respect. But in the end, we make every decision alone.

Your actions are your own. Your choices are your own. Each of us carries a burden of guilt for decisions made or not made. You can let that rule your whole life or you can put it behind you and move on. Only a madman lets jealousy determine the course of his existence. Only a weak man blames others for his own errors.

I do not view suicide as wicked, just terribly sad. There is only one death, but it is like a stone cast into a pond - the ripples stretch far. Such an act must leave a burden of sorrow, guilt, shame and confusion on an entire family. A natural death, such as my father suffered, is hard enough to deal with. A decision to end one's life must be still more devastating for those left behind. I cannot imagine the degree of hopelessness someone must feel to contemplate such an act.

In psychology, this phenomenon is called reactance: when we are deprived of an option, we suddenly deem it more attractive. It is a kind of act of defiance. It is also known as the Romeo and Juliet effect: because the love between the tragic Shakespearean teenagers is forbidden, it knows no bounds.

The rain accompanied Faolan as he travelled inland to the crossroads where he must at last make a choice of ways. He tried to fix his mind on the decision ahead, but thoughts of Deord intruded: Deord strong and serene as guard to a solitary, gifted captive; Deord devoting all he had left, after Breakstone, to keeping that wrongly imprisoned man safe from his own brother and from himself. Deord, at the end, fighting one last, heroic battle and dying so Faolan and Ana and the remarkable Drustan could go free.

I say maybe because when you’re a teenager there’s this rule: You aren’t supposed to make decisions based on love. You are supposed to tell your heart that it’s an immature and fickle thing. You’re supposed to remind yourself of Romeo and Juliet and how badly it turned out for them. Your poor teenage heart. It isn’t equipped for decisions like this. Except maybe. Maybe. It is.

A Witch is only as powerful as the love she gives herself. Self-love is about making the decision to get your life together; it’s about organizing your bills, saving money, eating more healthily, and working out; it’s also about looking your emotions in the face; shedding toxic people, friends, and partners from your life; and switching off your phone and taking a break from the madness of the world. It’s about being yourself and taking responsibility for everything you say and do.

It's like Romeo & Juliet,' I say. 'You can't separate them. Otherwise, there would be no Shakespeare.' Silence. I decide to be more straightforward. I tell him, 'Nothing frightens me anymore. I am not even afraid to die.' Bussey's eyes, already wide open, grow even wider. My death is the last thing he needs. I have the strange feeling that there are two of me. One observes the conversation while the other does the talking. Everything is abnormal, especially this extreme calm that has taken me over. I try to explain to Bussey that if I decide to die, it will be without bitterness. I know I did everything I possibly could, so it will be respectful farewell. I will bow to life like an actor, who, having delivered his lines, bends deeply to his audience & retires. I tell Bussey that this decision has nothing to do with him, that it is entirely mine. I will choose either to live or to die, but I cannot allow myself to live in the in-between. I do not want to go through life like a ghost. 'Do you think you'll find Danny this way?' Bussey asks. My mind sifts through all available theories on the afterlife. It is as if this metaphysical question has become as real as the air we breathe. Buddhism teaches that life is an eternal cycle without beginning or end. I recall the metaphor: "Our individual lives are like waves produced from the great ocean that is the universe. The emergence of a wave is life, and its abatement is death. This rhythm repeats eternally." Finally I answer Bussey, 'No, I don't think so.' Bussey seems relieved, but I'm more panicky, because I had never thought that I could wind up alone. In my mind, whatever the odds, Danny & I were & would be together forever.

Suppose Romeo and Juliet opened with Romeo having to decide with whom to fall in love. And suppose even after making a decision, Romeo could always retract and make a different choice instead. What kind of play would it have been? Well, that's the play technological progress is trying to produce for us. When our desires make us uncomfortable, technology promises to bail us out. When the nail on which the entire universe hangs is pegged in a problematic spot, technology will pull it out and stick it somewhere else. But where exactly? If I could peg that nail anywhere in the cosmos, where should I peg it, and why there of all places?

Con artists know all about dissonance and self-justification. They know that when people who think of themselves as smart and capable are faced with the evidence that they spent thousands of dollars on a magazine-subscription scam (yes, those still exist) or were lured into a romance with a fraudulent but seductive online Romeo (or Juliet), few will reduce dissonance by deciding they aren’t smart and capable. Instead, many will justify spending that money by spending even more money to recoup their sunk costs—their losses. This way of resolving dissonance protects their self-esteem but virtually guarantees their further victimization

These scripts are appropriate for straightforward interactions and binary yes/no decisions: “May I take twenty-four hours to get back to you?” Buy yourself time to work the Hourglass. When the interpersonal contact is broken, the intellect engages, better equipping you to make rational decisions. “I can do it for you this time, but I can’t do it for you every time.” Ease a demanding person back slowly from their expectations, and set up a future no. “It does not (or will not) work for me to . . .” This clause is a marvelous neutral beginning to any no. Be cautious of harshness in your tone. “I can’t, but here is another option for you.” (No, plus a substitute.) Share an alternative or suggestion in place of your being able to help. “It’s not good for me now, but let’s look ahead in our calendars.” (Yes, but in the future.) Be careful you’re not using a delay to avoid a necessary no. Of course, if timing is really the issue, then push the commitment back. “Sweetie, please take the no.” To use with children asking for the forty-third time if they can do or have something. “Mother/sister/brother/honey, I’m going to give that one a pass.” Use this easy phrase with family to practice no when the stakes are low. “Thanks for your directness.” A phrase to use when you’re on the other side of the no. “Sorry, no.” Yes, it’s a complete sentence. Get it out and then say nothing more.

I told you to look at me,” I growled. “Now, how about you listen and be a good girl, princess?” “Give me one good reason,” she teased. I felt the hunger as it took over my body. I sensed it the moment my eyes turned black. The moment my body went rigid on top of hers. Her scent had consumed me. It was a new hunger I’d never experienced. One I hadn’t known I needed. Without another word, I leaned down and pressed my lips to her. Desire erupted upon my tongue. I dug my fingers into her hips, adjusting her so that she was pressed tightly against me. “Is this a good enough reason?” Our mouths met with a fierce passion, our tongues caressing one another as we were running low on time. “It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than that to woo me,” she said as we broke apart momentarily. “What else are you capable of doing with that tongue of yours?” I often wondered how I would die. Never once did I believe it would be at the mercy of someone like Juliet. But my cock had never been one to make the best decisions. “Oh, you’ll find that out soon enough. Don’t worry about that, princess. I plan to taste every single inch of you before we’re through.” “Promises, promises,” she said as she rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to wait for you to back up your words.

Yes, but I think I should leave." "And I think you are distressed and need to rest before making such a hasty decision," he countered, with infuriating benignity. "Surely, meeting Charles's younger brother so unexpectedly, and under such traumatic circumstances, has not helped matters any."  He was smiling, but there was something she couldn't identify beneath that smile, and his dark eyes were watching her closely. Too closely. "Lord Gareth bears a certain resemblance to Charles, don't you think?" "Your Grace, I don't want to argue with you, but I would be more comfortable staying someplace in the village —" "What?!" cried Andrew and Nerissa in chorus. "Are your trunks still outside on the coach, Miss Paige?" the duke persisted. "Well, of course, but —" "Are they emblazoned with your name or initials?" "Yes, but —" "Puddyford!" The door opened obediently, and a liveried servant appeared, his face expressionless, his body erect and at attention. "Puddyford, I have business to attend to in the village. Have Miss Paige's trunks brought inside and up to her rooms. Nerissa, you will see that our guest is made comfortable, and someone is sent to attend to her needs."  He let his gaze sweep assessingly over Juliet. "You will be happy in the Blue Room, I think." "Your Grace, I have no wish to impose upon your hospitality —" "Nonsense, my dear girl. You have conducted yourself admirably, and your answers have satisfied me. Don't look so put out. Don't you realize I was only testing you with my studied rudeness?

That is not your decision. It can never be,” Anwar said. He took her by the arm and forcibly walked her back to her own home, with two of his sons helping and Ismatullah still holding Ali back from intervening. It was nearly midnight, and the Zaman household was already aroused, aware that Zakia had bolted. Gula Khan was on the rooftop with another brother

Despite his fatigue — and the concerns he'd shared with Juliet last night — he was in a good mood. And why not? Those three words she had spoken to him when he got home were still floating through his head like fairweather clouds across a summer sky. I love you. He smiled and gazed at her lying there under the blanket, her dark hair spread across the pillow like a Spanish fan. God, he loved her, too. He loved her lustrous hair and silky skin, her dark green eyes and pert little nose, even that soft, twangy accent that left everyone who heard it scratching their heads, wondering where she was from. He loved her slim, strong body, the fullness of her breasts, and the way her waist flared into curving, womanly hips ... hips that would, he hoped, bear many more children. She was a calming, practical influence on his reckless nature, the voice of reason where he was the soul of impulse. Oh, yes, he loved her. He loved her courage, her level-headedness, and her devotion. Most of all, he loved the fact that she now trusted him without question, supporting his decisions and standing by him when another woman might have demanded he bring her and her baby straight back to Blackheath and the all-powerful protection of its mighty duke. But

The original Romeo, Coby Reid, had driven his car into a tree only a few hours earlier, though no one was sure if it was on purpose or not, and no one seemed interested in knowing for certain. Since Coby was not dead but merely in the hospital with a broken collarbone and a collapsed lung and spectacular damage to his wonderful smile, the cast and crew decided that the show need not be canceled but rather recast. That Buster, the stage manager, had memorized every line of the entire play seemed to make the decision fairly obvious. That his sister, two years his senior and in her final performance as a high school student, would be playing the role of Juliet was seen as only a minor inconvenience.