Keeper Quotes

You don't love someone because they're perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they're not.

Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.

Maybe who we are isn't so much about what we do, but rather what we're capable of when we least expect it.

If you have a sister and she dies, do you stop saying you have one? Or are you always a sister, even when the other half of the equation is gone?

Extraordinary things are always hiding in places people never think to look.

I wondered what happened when you offered yourself to someone, and they opened you, only to discover you were not the gift they expected and they had to smile and nod and say thank you all the same.

The bottom line is that we never fall for the people we're supposed to.

It is the things you cannot see coming that are strong enough to kill you.

Sometimes to get what you want the most, you have to do what you want the least.

If I knew that today would be the last time I’d see you, I would hug you tight and pray the Lord be the keeper of your soul. If I knew that this would be the last time you pass through this door, I’d embrace you, kiss you, and call you back for one more. If I knew that this would be the last time I would hear your voice, I’d take hold of each word to be able to hear it over and over again. If I knew this is the last time I see you, I’d tell you I love you, and would not just assume foolishly you know it already.

Try to imagine a life without timekeeping. You probably can’t. You know the month, the year, the day of the week. There is a clock on your wall or the dashboard of your car. You have a schedule, a calendar, a time for dinner or a movie. Yet all around you, timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Deer do not fret over passing birthdays. an alone measures time. Man alone chimes the hour. And, because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures. A fear of time running out.

true love is felonious… You take someone’s breath away… You rob them of the ability to utter a single word… You steal a heart.

It's about a girl who is on the cusp of becoming someone.. A girl who may not know what she wants right now, and she may not know who she is right now, but who deserves the chance to find out.

Until this moment, I had not realized that someone could break your heart twice, along the very same fault lines.

I'm lonely. Why do you think I had to learn to act so independent? I also get mad too quickly, and I hog the covers, and my second toe is longer than my big one. My hair has it's own zip code. Plus, I get certifiably crazy when I've got PMS. You don't love someone because they're perfect. You love them in spite of the fact that they're not.

It doesn't take a whole long life to realize that what we deserve to have, we rarely get.

Seeing her sitting there unresponsive makes me realize that silence has a sound.

It's disappointing to know that someone can see right through you.

I learn from my own daughter that you don’t have to be awake to cry.

Happiness is a risk. If you’re not a little scared, then you’re not doing it right.

It is never too late or too soon. It is when it is supposed to be.

In the English language there are orphans and widows, but there is no word for the parents who lose a child.

And I'm the only one with a plan," Fitz reminded them. "Hey- I've got plans," Keefe argued. "Plans that don't involve tormenting Dame Alina," Fitz clarified. "But those are always the best plans!

See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it

bookshops are time machines spaceships story-makers secret-keepers dragon-tamers dream-catchers fact-finders & safe places. (this book is for those who know this to be true)

A real friend isn't capable of feeling sorry for you.

We all yearn for what we have lost. But sometimes, we forget what we have.

If you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.

There are always sides. There is always a winner and a loser. For every person who gets, there's someone who must give.

Most of us are called on to perform tasks far beyond what we can do. Our capabilities seldom match our aspirations, and we are often woefully unprepared. To this extent, we are all Assistant Pig-Keepers at heart.

With endless time, nothing is special. With no loss or sacrifice, we can’t appreciate what we have

Team Foster-Keefe will always be cooler.

You know how every now and then, you have a moment where your whole life stretches out ahead of you like a forked road, and even as you choose one gritty path you've got your eyes on the other the whole time, certain that you're making a mistake.

Do you know how sometimes - when you are riding your bike and you start skidding across sand, or when you miss a step and start tumbling down the stairs - you have those long, long seconds to know that you are going to be hurt, and badly?

I didn't want to see her because it would make me feel better. I came because without her, it's hard to remember who I am...

There is a reason God limits our days.' 'Why?' 'To make each one precious.

I thought you were a keeper, I wish I could have kept you.

I would rather be punished for making the right decision than live with the guilt of making the wrong one for the rest of my life.

Kids think with their brains cracked wide open; becoming an adult, I've decided, is only a slow sewing shut.

Mary’s hands clenched. She’d been through fire, what with a murder, and white supremacists. And what about Caroline, who had gone undercover to rescue the Scroll’s Key Keeper? Where were the College’s thanks for that?

Sometimes, when you are not getting the love you want, giving makes you think you will.

Shooting stars are not stars at all. They re just rocks that enter the atmosphere and catch fire under friction. What we wish on when we see one is only a trail of debris.

Aura of doom?" Keefe asked, a smirk curling his lips. "Sounds like my kind of party.

I would have given anything to keep her little. They outgrow us so much faster than we outgrow them. Brian Fitzgerald, talking about his children.

Photography is all about secrets. The secrets we all have and will never tell.

When you are measuring life, you are not living it.

He insisted that stars were people so well loved, they were traced in constellations, to live forever

Although I have felt compelled to write things down since I was five years old, I doubt that my daughter ever will, for she is a singularly blessed and accepting child, delighted with life exactly as life presents itself to her, unafraid to go to sleep and unafraid to wake up. Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.

Because our family doesn't decide who we are. WE decide who we are. Believe me, it drives my parents crazy. And sometimes, that's the only thought that gets me through the day.

Normal, in our house, is like a blanket too short for a bed--sometimes it covers you just fine, and other times it leaves you cold and shaking; and worst of all, you never know which of the two it's going to be.

Lately, I have been having nightmares, where I'm cut into so many pieces that there isn't enough of me to be put back together.

A secret is a strange thing. There are three kinds of secrets. One is the sort everyone knows about, the sort you need at least two people for. One to keep it. One to never know. The second is a harder kind of secret: one you keep from yourself. Every day, thousands of confessions are kept from their would-be confessors, none of these people knowing that their never-admitted secrets all boil down to the same three words: I am afraid. And then there is the third kind of secret, the most hidden kind. A secret no one knows about. Perhaps it was known once, but was taken to the grave. Or maybe it is a useless mystery, arcane and lonely, unfound because no one ever looked for it. Sometimes, some rare times, a secret stays undiscovered because it is something too big for the mind to hold. It is too strange, too vast, too terrifying to contemplate. All of us have secrets in our lives. We’re keepers or keptfrom, players or played. Secrets and cockroaches — that’s what will be left at the end of it all.

There are some things we do because we convince ourselves it would be better for everyone involved. We tell ourselves that it's the right thing to do, the altruistic thing to do. It's far easier than telling ourselves the truth.

There should be a statute of limitation on grief. A rulebook that says it is all right to wake up crying, but only for a month. That after 42 days you will no longer turn with your heart racing, certain you have heard her call out your name. That there will be no fine imposed if you feel the need to clean out her desk; take down her artwork from the refrigerator; turn over a school portrait as you pass - if only because it cuts you fresh again to see it. That it's okay to measure the time she has been gone, the way we once measured her birthdays.

He smiles at me, and I am suddenly seventeen again - the year I realize that love doesn't follow the rules, the year I understood that nothing is worth having so much as something unattainable

What I really want to tell him is to pick up that baby of his and hold her tight, to set the moon on the edge of her crib and to hang her name up in the stars.

Every life needs a little space. It leaves room for good things to enter it.

(24/7) once you sign on to be a mother, that's the only shift they offer.

Holding on to things only breaks your heart.

Fitz's door was closed, so she knocked before going in. "I told you, Mr. Snuggles's visiting hours are over," he called through the door. "What about your visiting hours?" she asked. "Oh! I thought you were Keefe." Sophie opened the door. "I get that a lot.

I thought lightning wasn't supposed to strike in the same place twice....sure it does...but only if you're too dumb to move.

They'll say you are bad or perhaps you are mad or at least you should stay undercover. Your mind must be bare if you would dare to think you can love more than one lover.

The human capacity for burden is like bamboo- far more flexible than you'd ever believe at first glance.

You can't teach calculus to a chimpanzee. So just share your banana.

I have only known her for two years. But if you took every memory, every moment, if you stretched them end to end-they'd reach forever.

And the very act of living is a tide; at first it seems to make no difference at all, and then one day you look down and see how much pain has eroded

The bottom line is that we never fall for the person we're supposed to.

Knowing something and understanding it were not the same thing.

I made such a fool of myself,” she lamented. “Love does not make you a fool.” “He didn’t love me back.” “That does not make you a fool, either.” “Just tell me …” Her voice cracked. “When does it stop hurting?” “Sometimes never.

I ...understand how a parent might hit a child- it's because you can look into their eyes and see a reflection of yourself that you wish you hadn't.

Now, revealing that you're a keeper is no guarantee that this guy won't just walk away. Some men really are just sport fishing and have no intention of doing anything more than throwing back the women they bed. If this is the cae with this man, then let him walk-what do you care? He's not the guy you're looking for.

Sophie flung a pillow at his head. Or, she tried to. Throwing with her left arm was much harder than she expect, and... She ended up nailing Magnate Leto in the face. Keefe doubled over, clutching his sides and gasping between choking laughs: “THAT...WAS...THE...GREATEST...THING...IVE...EVER...SEEN!

When we are most alone is when we embrace another's loneliness.

Hey, all the cool kids are sleeping with stuffed animals these days.

You can't stop time. You can't capture light. You can only turn your face up and let it rain down.

When you care more if someone else lives than you do about yourself- is that what [love is]?

I sometimes wonder if it is just me, or if there are other women who figure out where they are supposed to be by going nowhere.

Sparkles also make everything better. Well, except alicorn poop." "I don't know. I think sparkly poop is way better than regular poop." "That's because you've never fallen into a pile of it.

You'd be surprised at how powerful hope can be.

What's your name?" he asked above the roar of the music. She leaned close. "My name is Wind," she whispered. "And Rain. And Bone and Dust. My name is a snippet of a half-remembered song." He chuckled a low, delightful sound. She was drunk and silly, and so full of the glory of being young and alive and in the capital of the world that she could hardly contain herself. "I have no name," she purred. "I am whoever the keepers of my fate tell me to be." He grasped her by her wrist, running a thumb along the sensitive sknin underneath. "Then let me call you Mine for a dance or two.

the people you love can surprise you every day... maybe who we are isn't so much about what we do, but rather what we're capable of when we least expect it.

Ends are for yesterday, not tomorrows.

remember that every fire will burn itself out, even without your help.

A school isn’t a school until Sophie tries to destroy it.

if you tell yourself you feel fine, you will.

Am I supposed to help Frodo destroy the ring and save Middle Earth? Or do I have to make toys in the North Pole?

They pulled apart when Keefe shouted, "YOU GUYS HAVE TO SEE THIS!" They ran to the main room and found Keefe standing under the skylight, holding up Mr. Snuggles like it was a baby lion about to be made king. The sparkly red dragon twinkled almost as much as Keefe's eyes as he said, "I went in to check on our boy and found him cuddling with THIS!" "Isn't that the same dragon Fitz brought to your house that one time?" Dex asked Sophie. "WHAT?" Keefe shouted. "YOU KNEW AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!" "Mr. Snuggles wasn't my secret to share," Sophie said. "IT'S NAME IS MR. SNUGGLES?! That is... I can't even..." Keefe ran back to Fitz's room shouting, "ARE YOU MISSING YOUR SNUGGLE BUDDY?!" "Fitz is going to die of embarrassment, you know that, right?" Biana asked.

But a desperate heart will seduce the mind.

See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it. And the very act of living is a tide: at first it seems to make no difference at all, and then one day you look down and see how much pain has eroded.

It is a remarkable question- Do all the wonderful things happen when we are not aware of them?

As we curve around into the loop of the City Circle, I can see that a couple of other stylists have tried to steal Cinna and Portia's idea of illuminating their tributes. The electric-light-studded outfits from District 3, where they make electronics, at least make sense. But what are the livestock keepers from Distric 10, who are dressed as cows, doing with flaming belts? Broiling themselves? Pathetic.

My chest feels full of glitter and helium, the way it used to when I was little and riding my father's shoulders at twilight, when I knew that if I held up my hands and spread my fingers like a net, I could catch the coming stars.

He was quiet for a few seconds, and Sophie thought he was going to ignore her. But then he leaned closer-close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek. " I crack a lot of jokes ,Sophie , but ....that's just because it's easier, you know? It's how I deal. But that doesn't mean I don't care. I do, a lot.

The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself. I suppose that it begins or does not begin in the cradle. Although I have felt compelled to write things down since I was five years old, I doubt that my daughter ever will, for she is a singularly blessed and accepting child, delighted with life exactly as life presents itself to her, unafraid to go to sleep and unafraid to wake up. Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.

Life sometimes gets so bogged down in the details, you forget you are living it. There is always another appointment to be met, another bill to pay, another symptom presenting, another uneventful day to be notched onto the wooden wall. We have synchronized our watches, studied our calendars, existed in minutes, and completely forgotten to step back and see what we've accomplished.

Newsflash: it's not the guy who determines whether you're a sports fisher or a keeper-it's you. (Don't hate the player, hate the game.) When a man approaches you you're the one with total control over the situation-whether he can talk to you, buy you a drink, dance with you, get your number, take you home, see you again, all of that. We certainly want these things from you; that's why we talked to you in the first place. But it's you who decides if you're going to give us any of the things we want, and how, exactly, we're going to get them. Where you stand in our eyes is dictated by YOUR control over the situation. Every word you say, every move you make, every signal you give to a man will help him determine whether he should try to play you, be straight with you, or move on to the next woman to do a little more sport fishing.

Ugh, they’ve been at it all day,” Fitz grumbled. “It’s been hours of ‘Look—I’m invisible. Now I’m not! Now I am!’” Biana rolled her eyes as she reappeared. “Like you were any less annoying with your ‘I can tell you what you’re thinking right now! And now! And now!

If there's a child on the south side of Chicago who can't read, that matters to me, even if it's not my child. If there's a senior citizen somewhere who can't pay for their prescription, who has to choose between medicine and the rent, that makes my life poorer - even if it's not my grandparent. If there's an Arab-American or Mexican-American family being rounded up by John Ashcroft without benefit of an attorney or due process, I know that that threatens my civil liberties. And I don't have to be a woman to be concerned that the Supreme Court is trying to take away a woman's right, because I know that my rights are next. It is that fundamental belief - I am my brother’s keeper, I am my sister’s keeper - that makes this country work.

As mankind grew obsessed with its hours, the sorrow of lost time became a permanent hole in the human heart. People fretted over missed chances, over inefficient days; they worried constantly about how long they would live, because counting life’s moments had led, inevitably, to counting them down. Soon, in every nation and in every language, time became the most precious commodity.

Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you." I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never really questioned what it meant. I thought it was just a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before you popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. Now I'm thinkin': it could mean you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. .45 here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could be you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin, Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd. he became the shepherd instead of the vengeance. Jules Winnfield- Samuel L. Jackson