Mcallister Quotes

The seclusion of this ranch house threatened to take her breath away, but she managed to smile. So this is what it’s like to be a country girl.

Hannah is a vegetarian; Trace is a cattle rancher. Definitely, not a match made in heaven. “A horse with a sense of humor. Was that possible?

There was nothing between the ranch and the nearest town except a windy, two-lane mountain road edged with pine trees, meadows, cliffs and boulders. No Dairy Queen, no Circle K, nothing.

Hannah knelt to get a closer look at the trail of holes. “Last night’s vandal wore stilettos.” The two men stared at her, confused. “English, please. You’re talking to country boys.

Their attraction to each other is derailed by a missing person, acts of vandalism, a jealous woman, and an accident—or was it a murder?

Trace, a cattle rancher, and Hannah, a vegetarian, had nothing in common until the accident.

When Hannah’s life hangs in the balance, is Trace willing to face his greatest fear to rescue the woman he loves?

Ah," McAllister laughed, "free thinkers at seventeen!

Trace pulled on his jeans but didn’t bother zipping them. Nor did he bother with a shirt. The sheriff smirked, scrutinizing his lack of clothing. “I can almost see why Callie is so taken with you.

Jerking her blindfold back into place, he yelled, “Giddy-up!”                                      “They only say that in cartoons, you moron.

The horse’s ears twitched as she spoke. “I hope you’ll forgive any of my rookie mistakes. You see, I’ve become both a novice rancher and a fake widow today.” She tilted her head, loosening the tense muscles in her neck. “How many people can say that, huh?

We only think of the bad things that happen, rather than those that, through fortune, pass us by.

Jonah McAllister regarded me with cold eyes. "Oh, yes. That's her. The lovely Ms.Gin Blanco. The bitch who was giving my boy a hard time. A hard time? I supposed so, if you thought turning him in to the cops for attempted robbery, breaking a plate full of food in his face, and ultimately stabbing Jake McAllister to death was a hard time.

When Hannah Hudson finds herself abandoned on a Rocky Mountain ranch, even a lottery win doesn’t change her bad-luck life.

Buttercup?” Trace looked concerned. “You’ve named the cows?” “Not all of them … yet. I’ll give them each a name when the perfect name pops up.” He scratched his head. “You do know the fate of most beef cattle, right?” 

Everything in parenthood feels so endless until it ceases.

Banter can hide the worst sins. Some people laugh to hide their shame, they laugh instead of saying I feel embarrassed and small.

The maternal habit of a lifetime, feeling guilty no matter which she chose.

Most of life is doing little things," said Cedar gently, "and doing them really well." "They might be little BRAVE things," said Crispin.

They, mother and son, are a zipper, slowly separating as the years rush by.

But isn’t humor a different kind of repression?

How segmented life is. It splits so easily into friendships and addresses and life phases that feel endless but never, never last. Wearing suits.

How sinister it is to relive your life backward. To see things you hadn’t at the time. To realize the horrible significance of events you had no idea were playing out around you. To uncover lies told by your husband. Jen would always have said Kelly was as straight as they come. But don’t all good liars seem that way?

continuing her vigil. She’ll wait as long as it takes. Both phases of parenthood – the newborn years and the almost-adult ones – are bookended by sleep deprivation, though for different reasons.

thing about grief is that, when it happens to you, you go through the looking glass. Suddenly, everyone else lives one kind of life, with one set of problems, and you another. You’re in a different world now, one you can never return from. And you only realize too late how good the first world was.

You will never regret the things you fail, only the things you fail to try.

Life’s too long for this worry,” he adds.

You've had five years to make her happy, Collins. Now back the hell off and I'll show you how a real man gets it done.

He laid his heart before the Heart. What else could he do?

Trump is actually just insane – as opposed to merely Republican.

I don’t just listen to songs, I study them." -Samantha McAllister

Like the hindsight paradox,” he continues, when he’s bought the doughnuts. “Everyone thinks they knew what was going to happen. They said, I knew it all along! but, actually, they would say that no matter what the outcome. Because our brains are so good at considering every possibility. We’ve known whenever anything was going to happen.

Whatever it is you’ve done, Jen thinks, I’ll never not love you.

And, just like that, a friendship was born, out of tragedy and humour, as they often are.

Sometimes,” he says gently, when she’s finished, “the emotions of living something the first time prevent us from seeing the true picture, don’t they?” He rubs at his beard. “If I could go back – the things in my life that I would just stand and truly, fully witness, if I knew how they were going to turn out . . .

Alone all day, Juniper would remember the animals and places he loved, and hold them in his own heart before the great Heart that made them. He was learning to find quietness inside himself. He was learning to pray.

Our story begins eight years ago when Ms. Jacobs was living in London with Mr. McAllister. However, she had to leave the country urgently due to a family emergency.” “Considering the ‘he-was-dead’ defence, I’m sure this will be hugely entertaining.” Lily didn’t see it but she heard the scoffing behind Nate’s attorney’s tone, that would be attorney number two or Sarcastic Attorney. Her startled eyes moved to the man who, she noted distractedly, was staring at her with extreme distaste. “Well, I’m not sure one would describe losing both of one’s parents in a plane crash as ‘entertaining’,” Alistair noted blandly.

Loyalty is everything, but everything isn't loyal.

Don’t grow up, Urchin, whatever you do. Definitely a bad idea.

Our character is what we do when we think no one is looking. H. Jackson Brown,

Maybe if she stops trying to learn from it, something will happen.

He made me somehow see that life didn't have to be experienced in a big way, and that happiness was small, really.

I know Jace McAllister has ruined me for all others and admitting it scares me to death.

A fortune of a million,” McAllister remarked to the New York Tribune, “is only respectable poverty.

Any aspirant who deviated from the standards laid down by Mrs. Astor and Ward McAllister was doomed. A big house, tasteful parties, fine horses, a reasonably presentable husband guaranteed nothing. If Mrs. Astor refused to know you, you might as well be living in Cleveland.

My entire life I’d been so bloody frightened of what everybody thought of me and my failed existence and yet, when I failed spectacularly – sank so much lower, so much worse than failing a degree – I realized the truth of it: nobody cares what you think as much as you do. Not even close.

You pray for forgiveness. You pray for it to stop, for life, and even death. You pray for rain to wash away your sins and drown your soul. Till you finally just stop asking. Cause nobodies listening.

Even the Heart that made Mistmantle had to break with love for us. That is how it gave us the mists. But it does not stay broken. The Heart still beats, still loves, still holds us. A true heart survives the breaking.

Be silent and safe — silence never betrays you; Be true to your word and your work and your friend; Put least trust in him who is foremost to praise you, Nor judge of a road till it draw to the end. James Jeffery Roche

The love, true love, it should have eclipsed the shame, but there is so much judgment involved in parenthood that it never did. The shame is so easy to access, at the school gates, at the doctor's, on fucking Mumsnet. She can't let it go.

Parenthood is beautiful, but hard, too. It’s tough to exist in the world when there is someone going about their business who you would die for.

Some (sea)shells have magic in them. If you listen really closely, you can hear voices from another world.

Words have no power... which you do not give them.

Don’t worry. It’s – it’s nothing, probably,” she adds, wondering why she has always felt the need to do that. To be easygoing, not to worry people, to be good.

As the wall between advertising and content erodes, the aptitude required to understand the functions and design of media content becomes more complex.

But perhaps I really am meant to do something for this island. Or perhaps I should, after what you’ve told me, whether I’m meant to or not.

The truth is, the good days with a baby are better than the greatest days in your pre-baby life.

His teeth were now rattling on hers: knock-knock, who's there? Bicuspids. Bicuspids who? Bicuspids McAllister. And then his tongue came flicking out, looking for an opening, any opening, even a missing tooth. But she had no missing teeth and all the teeth she did have were clenched together as in a snapped bear trap.

Padra put a paw on his shoulder as they trudged slowly across the sand together. “It’s unusual for an otter to take on a squirrel for a page,” he said, “and I’m a poor substitute for Crispin.” Urchin had been feeling that he would never be happy again. Now hope flared. “I can swim a bit, sir, if that helps,” he said eagerly.

ABC: Assume nothing, Believe nothing, Challenge everything. One of the most important rules of being a detective.

Then I’ll help Fionn with her refuge for lost frogs, or whatever she thinks she’s doing. She seems to be adopting them.

Face it, George – unlike cholera, death is the only disease everyone is guaranteed to get.’ Heath nodded slowly. ‘But usually only once, Hamish. Usually only once.

with no idea of the bullet she’s just dodged; there but for the . . . We only think of the bad things that happen, rather than those that, through fortune, pass us by.

Walk around them like they’re statues. Love them, just love them, and never go forward into the darkness and lies that await them, remaining here in blissful ignorance.

Throughout her entire career she has always looked for the absence of things as well as their presence. Evidence is often in what people don’t say. What they take out.

How sinister it is to relive your life backward. To see things you hadn’t at the time. To realize the horrible significance of events you had no idea were playing out around you.

... they had lost touch, the way you sometimes do when a friendship is born out of a common interest only.

What we were we are; we always will be.

Don't start working on the solution until you understand the problem.

Apricity. That’s what it’s called. A word Reuben taught me: the warmth of the sun in winter.

Maybe it really is simply about books, and the things they can do for people.

Every house needs a cat,’ he said. ‘Every single one. Anyone who disagrees is wrong.

And, when you don't trust yourself, you can't trust anybody else, either.

Life’s too long for work.” Life’s too long. That’s so clever.

The complicated cocktail of parenthood. Loving and liking not always aligning.

WHO NEEDS SLEEP?

Oh, the days when people read novels to pass the time.

fisselig. A German word meaning ‘flustered to the point of incompetence’.

River McAllister’s lips feel like fucking heaven on earth.

My problem is not a lack of dicks. My problem is an abundance of dicks, being surrounded by dicks, always being reminded that they’re ready to be unsheathed and used as a corrective if I step out of line.

What’re we having?” she adds. Her father shrugs, a happy shrug. “Whatever,” he says. “Another person just sort of makes life feel official, doesn’t it? Even if we just have beans on toast.” Jen knows exactly what he means.

Funny how those things felt so important then. Go and see the Christmas lights, bake and assemble the gingerbread house. And – poof. They disappear into history, causing only stress and leaving no imprint, like a footstep on sand that gets washed away too swiftly. Her entire life, she’s been so concerned with how things seem to be. Keeping up appearances. Having it all, the house with the carved pumpkin so everybody knew they’d done it. And yet. What was it all for?

After that, Lily was recuperating and then dealing with significant financial hardships. The birth was described to me by Lily and also by her obstetrician, who I spoke to myself yesterday. The doctor, in his own words, remembers what he describes as that ‘hideous day’ like it was yesterday. The labour, intense and excruciating, lasted for days. In the end, in extreme distress at the length of the labour, the baby nearly died. Lily did die. She was flatline for two minutes and thirty-eight –” Alistair didn’t get the opportunity to finish his grand statement because Nate surged out of his chair so fast, it flew on its wheels and shot across the room, slamming into the wall. “Mr. McAllister…” Alistair said warningly but Nate was coming swiftly around the table, coming at her. At this sight, Lily, too, jumped out of her chair in a panic, her numbness not that complete, and backed away in self-defence as Nate came at her, came at her with purposeful, long strides. She backed up jerkily, one hand behind her, one hand in front, retreating until she hit the wall. Before she knew what he was about, his hard chest came up against her hand, pushing it back and his body pressed against hers. Terrified and confused at this sudden change, she looked to the right and to the left, anywhere for escape, anywhere but at Nate. And to her shock, his hands caught her face, resting one on either side, gently trying to force her to look into his impossibly dark eyes. “I didn’t know,” he whispered and the absolute ache dripping from his first words said to her since she found out he was alive cut through her thin shield of numbness like a razor. She attempted to pull her face free but his hands tightened. “Lily, I didn’t know,” he repeated, and she caught his eyes and they were glittering dark with something that she couldn’t read, something hideously painful and she had to get away from it. Was desperate to get away from it. She needed to flee. She tried to look over his shoulder but he was too tall, too close. Things were happening in the room, there was urgent talk, maybe even a tussle. But all she could see was Nate.

And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were without power over him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They gathered up scraps of food which had touched his lips, an empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut from which he had drunk, and even his spittle, and performed all kinds of deviltries over them. But McAllister lived on. His health was superb. He never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; and the malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and whites alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He must have been so saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to imagine them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as fast as they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even germs, while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived.

...all the ways she's ineffectually mothered Todd crowd into her mind. Feeding him too much so he slept more, upending the bottle while watching daytime television, bored, no eye contact. That time she shouted in frustration when he wouldn't nap. How early she went back to work because her father put pressure on her; enrolling Todd in nursery so young, too young. Has she planted these seeds here? Was she a shit mother, or just a human?

Do you remember,” said Needle, “you said once that you thought you should have something important to do? Well, I think you’ve done it.” “I’m not sure,” said Urchin. “I mean, yes, I know I’ve done some thing. But it doesn’t feel finished. There’s more that I have to do. And more that I have to be. I mean, it’s not as if you can do one special thing, and that’s it. It’s what you go on being that matters. Come to think of it, I don’t know what I am anymore.

Urchin decided to put off his carefully prepared speech until they were on the shore. They sat on the rocks at low tide as they had so often before, watching anemones and sea urchins while Sepia dabbled her paws in the water. Finally he decided that his speech was ridiculous, and simply asked her to marry him.

On his Grand Tour, McAllister made a careful study of all aspects of social life: court manners, architecture, fashion, food, drink, watering spots, dances. He returned to the United States as what one contemporary called “the most complete dandy in America,” and established himself in New York as essentially a professional snob.

There is nothing I won’t do to help you: there is nothing I can’t do. All parents are superheroes, for this very reason.

But isn't humour a different kind of repression?

I try to avoid looking at you now because I've realized your soul is mean. And somehow seeing the mean side of a person's soul changes the way his face looks, too.

that looking backwards leads to sadness, and forwards to anxiety. All we’ve got is now.

And the thing with crisis- she learns, while it all unfolds- is that you might worry and worry and worry about them happening, but actually it is so totally different when they do.

He looks full of the lols...

Juniper remained quiet and thoughtful for a while. Then he said, “We will win, King Crispin, because it’s impossible.” Crispin rubbed his face with his paws. “I’m too tired for riddles, Juniper,” he said. “It’s not a riddle,” said Juniper. “It’s obvious. We are being called to fight beyond all that our strength and numbers can do. It’s not only their strength and their numbers that we’re up against. It’s that powerful, poisonous evil that drives them from inside. It’s beyond us. But it’s not beyond the Heart. Nothing is—so we call upon the Heart to fight our battle for us, and the Heart will.

Since Husk’s downfall, Brother Fir had quietly and sensibly taken control of the situation. He had told the islanders of the long ago time when a squirrel king had committed murder and sacrifice in that chamber. He had opened it, blessed it, filled it with candlelight, watched, prayed, and sung in it, night and day, cleansing it of its past. It was now the Chamber of Candles, a place of prayer and peace.

Maybe. Often those with the largest online social networks are the most introverted and lonely in real life, yes,’ Jonathan says. ‘But – there is … I don’t know. Something weird about it. The housemates add to that.

her.’ ‘Physically seeing someone matters,’ Julia says. ‘Does it? I have loads of online friends I haven’t met.’ ‘What did you think we’d do – not investigate?’ ‘Maybe. How could anyone say she’s missing if she wasn’t ever seen?

A single star twirled, danced, swooped, and spun so close to him that he might have touched it. Where did that brightness in the sky come from? Was it in the mists? Was it sunrise? And as he watched the mists, rising and swirling, a joy grew in him so strong that it spread from his heart to his limbs, his paws, his head. It shone in his eyes, filled his lungs, and exploded into stars. One last pain tore his heart before joy overwhelmed him and he reached out his paws. “It’s you!” he cried, and fell.

The culture at large had exerted the same pressure on her that it exerts on all women, namely to feel insecure about herself regardless of what she was doing, to feel that simply by being a woman in the world she was necessarily doing something wrong and could only correct her wrongness via endless consumerism and an array of contradictory neuroses. She’d been socialized to always apologize, to smile when a man told her to smile, to believe men who told her she was doing something wrong. Before