Mimi Love Quotes

Never forget that solitude is my lot ... I implore those who love me to love my solitude." (Letter to Mimi Romanelli, May 11, 1910)

Every Valentine's Day, the student council sponsered a holiday fundraiser by selling roses that would be delievered in class. The roses came in four colors:white, yellow, red, pink, and the subtleties of thier meaning were parsed and analyzed by the female population to no end. Mimi had always understood it thus:white for love, yellow for friendship, red for passion, and pink for a secret crush.

Wait--we have one left," the runner said, bringing out what was surely the most expensive bouquet of all: a three-foot tall arrangement of two hundred white roses, in the palest ivory color. All the girls swooned. Almost no boys bought white roses ever. It was a big sign of commitment. But this one practically trumpeted a captured heart. The runner set the bouquet in front of Schuyler. Mimi raised an eyebrow. She had always won the roses lottery. What was this all about? For me?" Schuyler asked, awestruck by the size of the thing. She took the card from the tallest stem. For Schuyler, who doesn't like love stories." It was not signed.

Be careful who you choose as your friends because their bad habits can become your bad habits. Choose wisely...we all have a choice in life.

And perhaps some will never understand, It is mostly the farewells that unite us, and last in our memory forever, Even more than the first meeting.

Do not cry for me, Azrael. Do not waste your tears. You made your decision. And this is mine. Sacrifice seems to be my destiny. A funny thing for a selfish man, isn't it? They always called me weak back then...

You may rely on it," he (Tommasso) said with that exotic accent. "Sorry, I don't speak Magic 8-Ball.

Why should I? What do you promise me? Nothing. And everything. A life of danger and adventure. A chance to be yourself. Leave him. Come with me.

If you love her, set her free. If she comes back, she’s yours. If she doesn’t…Christ! Stubborn woman! Hunt her down, and bring her the hell back; she’s still yours according to vampire law.” - Niccolo DiConti, General of the Vampire Queen’s Army.

When you establish peace, when you etablish love, when you establish kindness here [inside], you cannot act any other way to the outside world.

Where is the graveyard of dead gods? What lingering mourner waters their mounds? There was a time when Jupiter was the king of the gods, and any man who doubted his puissance was ipso facto a barbarian and an ignoramus. But where in all the world is there a man who worships Jupiter today? And who of Huitzilopochtli? In one year - and it is no more than five hundred years ago - 50,000 youths and maidens were slain in sacrifice to him. Today, if he is remembered at all, it is only by some vagrant savage in the depths of the Mexican forest. Huitzilopochtli, like many other gods, had no human father; his mother was a virtuous widow; he was born of an apparently innocent flirtation that she carried out with the sun. When he frowned, his father, the sun, stood still. When he roared with rage, earthquakes engulfed whole cities. When he thirsted he was watered with 10,000 gallons of human blood. But today Huitzilopochtli is as magnificently forgotten as Allen G. Thurman. Once the peer of Allah, Buddha and Wotan, he is now the peer of Richmond P. Hobson, Alton B. Parker, Adelina Patti, General Weyler and Tom Sharkey. Speaking of Huitzilopochtli recalls his brother Tezcatlipoca. Tezcatlipoca was almost as powerful; he consumed 25,000 virgins a year. Lead me to his tomb: I would weep, and hang a couronne des perles. But who knows where it is? Or where the grave of Quetzalcoatl is? Or Xiuhtecuhtli? Or Centeotl, that sweet one? Or Tlazolteotl, the goddess of love? Of Mictlan? Or Xipe? Or all the host of Tzitzimitl? Where are their bones? Where is the willow on which they hung their harps? In what forlorn and unheard-of Hell do they await their resurrection morn? Who enjoys their residuary estates? Or that of Dis, whom Caesar found to be the chief god of the Celts? Of that of Tarves, the bull? Or that of Moccos, the pig? Or that of Epona, the mare? Or that of Mullo, the celestial jackass? There was a time when the Irish revered all these gods, but today even the drunkest Irishman laughs at them. But they have company in oblivion: the Hell of dead gods is as crowded as the Presbyterian Hell for babies. Damona is there, and Esus, and Drunemeton, and Silvana, and Dervones, and Adsullata, and Deva, and Bellisima, and Uxellimus, and Borvo, and Grannos, and Mogons. All mighty gods in their day, worshipped by millions, full of demands and impositions, able to bind and loose - all gods of the first class. Men labored for generations to build vast temples to them - temples with stones as large as hay-wagons. The business of interpreting their whims occupied thousands of priests, bishops, archbishops. To doubt them was to die, usually at the stake. Armies took to the field to defend them against infidels; villages were burned, women and children butchered, cattle were driven off. Yet in the end they all withered and died, and today there is none so poor to do them reverence. What has become of Sutekh, once the high god of the whole Nile Valley? What has become of: Resheph Anath Ashtoreth El Nergal Nebo Ninib Melek Ahijah Isis Ptah Anubis Baal Astarte Hadad Addu Shalem Dagon Sharaab Yau Amon-Re Osiris Sebek Molech? All there were gods of the highest eminence. Many of them are mentioned with fear and trembling in the Old Testament. They ranked, five or six thousand years ago, with Yahweh Himself; the worst of them stood far higher than Thor. Yet they have all gone down the chute, and with them the following: Bilé Ler Arianrhod Morrigu Govannon Gunfled Sokk-mimi Nemetona Dagda Robigus Pluto Ops Meditrina Vesta You may think I spoof. That I invent the names. I do not. Ask the rector to lend you any good treatise on comparative religion: You will find them all listed. They were gods of the highest standing and dignity-gods of civilized peoples-worshiped and believed in by millions. All were omnipotent, omniscient and immortal. And all are dead.

When our heart is open Everything we do becomes love

Laughter with those that understand us is music for the soul. A hug at the right moment and a kind shoulder to lean on, Is the sprinkle of magic that keeps us walking towards hope.

Hey, Terry? Jim. How's it going? So, you and Mimi up for some dinner?” He paused. “No, I didn't hit my head. No, this isn't a code because I'm being held hostage.

the system fails us again and again and creates the illusion that we are the ones who are failing

In order to be happy, every person must have: 1. Something meaningful to do. 2. Someone to love. (Friends and family and pets all count.) 3. Something to look forward to. It's really that simple.

Peace within us starts when we learn to forgive and let go

I said: "You don't want to pick a fight with me, Mimi." She looked at me as if she were going to say I love you, and asked: "Is that a threat?

All the demons of Hell formerly reigned as gods in previous cultures. No it's not fair, but one man's god is another man's devil. As each subsequent civilization became a dominant power, among its first acts was to depose and demonize whoever the previous culture had worshipped. The Jews attacked Belial, the god of the Babylonians. The Christians banished Pan and Loki anda Mars, the respective deities of the ancient Greeks and Celts and Romans. The Anglican British banned belief in the Australian aboriginal spirits known as the Mimi. Satan is depicted with cloven hooves because Pan had them, and he carries a pitchfork based on the trident carried by Neptune. As each deity was deposed, it was relegated to Hell. For gods so long accustomed to receiving tribute and loving attention, of course this status shift put them into a foul mood.

I felt like a bruised burden, and in my refusal to become a victim, I neglected the tenderness of being a survivor

An hour later, a nameless, cold-faced man returned with a tray of fresh pasta, warm bread, and a few bags of brand new comfort clothes: yoga pants, tees, a few sports bras, and...pink thong underwear? Well, of course. Wouldn't want to be held prisoner and have panty lines.

Perhaps numbness does not signify a “lack” of feeling, just as deserts do not lack for life

Wonderful things didn’t happen because one was cautious. They happened because one dared.

Love makes us invincible. Always be in Love. Life is not always about winning, It's about never surrendering.

<spoiler>Azrael... In a flash, they disappeared. The path, the gate, the demon, and the Silver Blood. Kingsley was gone. Trapped in Hell for eternity. Mimi collapsed to the ground, as if her heart had imploded in her chest.</spoiler>

I am grateful for the ways that I have protected myself in the past, for that tells me that I want to live. It tells me that, even if I do not know it, I cherish my miraculous life.

In the hall, Tina whisper hisses, "Retreat! Retreat!" The sounds of heels clip clopping follows before... stumble crash bang Mimi laughs her ass off and says, "We have a man down! I repeat. We are a man down!" Lola laughs hard and yells out, "We're so bad at this! Best mission ever! The sound of giggles and heels approach my room. I put an arm under my head to elevate it. I want to see what these goofballs are doing. Tina's first through the door and looks sheepish while rubbing her elbow. That is until she see Nat, Helena and Nina all sitting on my bed. Then she yells out, "Pajama party!" And literally throws herself on to my bed, hurt elbow forgotten. She belly flops onto my stomach, My body jolts upwards, the wind is knocked out of me and I groan. Tina looks up at me with wide eyes. She rushed out, "Ash, honey! I'm so sorry!" Then she rubs what she thinks is my stomach. Only its my cock. Removing her hands from me, I tell her, "Tina, I don't think Nik would like you in my bed rubbing my junk.

In the end we will realise that we only came to earth to love

We may meet so many people along this long road, But it is of no use, Until we finally meet ourselves.

Okay, you got me. The screenwriter is a vampire. Now go to your own desk and call Mimi so she can call me and I can get my day started

Thank you Liv… Thank you for being the only woman ever brave enough to love me.

Kingsley smiled his Cheshire smile. And without a word, he called up the white darkness—the subvertio—a spell that unlocked what could not be unlocked, that destroyed what could not be destroyed. There was a rumbling, a shaking, like the strongest earthquake, and the iron gate crumbled, and the path began to melt. the demon shrieked, but Kingsley just looked at Mimi the entire time. "Azrael...

We think that those we spend the most time with know us. Yet some only notice our presence when we leave. Look for the ones that wait for your footsteps in the silence. These are the ones longing to hear the echoes of your heartbeat strum their soul.

She still loved him, she would always love him, but it was the kind of love that was muted, safely seen through the rear-view window, like a place you used to call home but no longer visited. There would always be a wound there, but the healing had begun.

He took one look at Mimi and wilted. “Whoa. What did I miss?” “Shut up, Thomas.” She turned and flounced away.

Sometimes all we need to soothe our soul and ease our burdens is the loving hand of a friend gently touching our heart and lifting us towards love

How wonderful it is those people that we meet by chance and invite us to live again. The memory of them will keep hope alive forever.

This day, this hour, this minute, will not come around again in our entire life. Let us speak with love to everyone we meet and remind each other how beautiful we really are.

Do you think he’ll ever forgive you for turning him into a Demilord before you put him to sleep in your piggy bank?” She shrugged. “Oooh. I hope not. I love conflict—World War Numero Dos…fucking awesome! Can’t wait for number three!

I have tried to return to an "untainted" version of myself, one that was oblivious to the visceral natures of pain and loss. I obsess over an imagined place of "purity", where the ghosts of my past do not roam, and I realize that as vital as it is to release my hauntings, I cannot return to a self who is untouched by pain. I do not live in a world without pain, and I cannot pretend that pain does not continue as I continue too.

You've won," Jack said softly. He looked at Mimi with such fiery hatred that she almost cowered at his words. But she was no weakling. She was Azrael, and Azrael did not cower, not even to Abbadon. "I've won nothing," Mimi replied coldly. "Please remember that almost all of the Elders are dead, that the Dark Prince is ascendant, and what is left of the Conclave is being led by a broken man who used to be the strongest of us all. And yet all you seem to care about, my darling, is that you no longer get to play with your little love toy." Instead of answering her, Jack flew across the room and slapped her hard across the face, sending her crashing to the floor. But before he could wield another blow, Mimi leaped up and slammed him against the window, knocking him completely out of breath. "Is this what you want?" she hissed as she lifted him up by his shirt collar, his face turning a ghastly shade of red. "Don't let me destroy you," he sneered. "Just try, my sweet." Jack twisted out of her grasp and flipped her over, kicking her down the length of the room. She sprung up with her hands clenched, her nails sharp as claws, and fangs bared. They met halfway in the air, and Jack put a hand on her throat and began to squeeze. But she scratched at his eyes and wrenched her body so that she was rolling on top of him, her sword at his throat, with the upper hand. SUBMIT. Mimi sent. NEVER.

No, it hadn’t been love, but it had been…something. Something warm and filled with promise. Something that was gone now, irrevocably, leaving him empty and alone.

We all need to be far more gentler with each other. And realise that some people's heart's injure with far more ease than others and dance to a quieter music.

I love you, you know," Mimi said. "You make me crazy, but God help me Jack, I do." "I love you too," he replied.

But if you do love him, leave him, Schuyler. Release him. Tell him you don't want him anymore. Its the only way he'll let go." -Mimi

To find peace in any moment all we need to do is respect our own soul

Smile, dream, don’t give up. Don’t try to be like everyone else, it’s impossible, Be totally your extraordinary self, Paint the world with the colours of your spirit.

Numbness prompted me to tend to the life in my desert and prepare myself for feeling. The rain was quickly approaching.

It's possible that in holding back the full truth of who I was, I was also holding back myself, which shut me off from experiencing the thrill of falling in love. That's just one of the many ways my secret has cost me. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Here's a secret to love," she said. "Always make sure that the man loves you just a breath more than you love him." "Oh Mimi, I love your Papa more than any woman ever loved any man. And still, he loves me a breath more. It's the only healthy way. If a woman loves too much- if her love is heavier- she won't see anything but him. She'll be blind to the world. Women are made like that. We have to teach ourselves not to become obsessed. True love lies in peace, not torture.

Inside the church, the bondsmaids were walking slowly down the aisle, with the little petal girls. Trinity turned to give Mimi her last words of motherly advice: 'Walk straight. Don't slouch. And for heavens's sake, smile! It's your bonding!?' Then she too walked through the door and down the aisle. The door shut behind her, leaving Mimi alone. Finally, Mimi heard the orchestra play the first strains of the 'Wedding March.' Wagner. Then the ushers opened the doors and Mimi moved to the threshold. There was an appreciative gasp from the crowd as they took in the sight of Mimi in her fantastic dress. But instead of acknowledging her triumph as New York?s most beautiful bride, Mimi looked straight ahead, at Jack, who was standing so tall and straight at the altar. He met her eyes and did not smile. 'Let's just get this over with.' His words were like an ice pick to the heart. He doesn't love me. He has never loved me. Not the way he loves Schuyler. Not the way he loved Allegra. He has come to every bonding with this darkness. With this regret and hesitation, doubt and despair. She couldn't deny it. She knew her twin, and she knew what he was feeling, and it wasn't joy or even relief. What am I doing? "Ready" Forsyth Llewellyn suddenly appeared by her side. Oh, right, she remembered, she had said yes when Forsyth had offered to walk her down the aisle. Here goes nothing. As if in a daze, Mimi took his arm, Jack's words still echoing in her head. She walked, zombie-like, down the aisle, not even noticing the flashing cameras or the murmurs of approval from the hard-to-impress crowd.

Helena, my love,” she heard a deep voice whisper from behind. Helena gasped and held on tight to that breath. Jeans clutched to her chest, she turned slowly toward the voice. There was no one there. “It’s official. I’m obsessed.

Before and after the funeral I never ceased to cry and be miserable, but it makes me ashamed when I think back on that sadness of mine, seeing that always in it was an element of self-love - now a desire to show that I prayed more than any one else, now concern about the impression I was producing on others, now an aimless curiosity which caused me to observe Mimi's cap or the faces of those around me. I despised myself for not experiencing sorrow to the exclusion of everything else, and I tried to conceal all other feelings: this made my grief insincere and unnatural. Moreover, I felt a kind of enjoyment in knowing that I was unhappy and I tried to stimulate my sense of unhappiness, and this interest in myself did more than anything else to stifle real sorrow in me.

There is only one way to be relieved from her service: death. I would like to avoid it.” “I see. You wouldn’t happen to have some wildly irrational reason for doing all this, would you? I love acts of futile insolence. They’re so whimsical!” Trying not to sound like a pansy, he admitted, “I no longer wish to kill for her.” “A vampire who doesn’t want to…kill? You don’t want to—” Cimil broke off, laughing hysterically. “That totally qualifies!

MiMi says she was tutored by the bayou, by the Mississippi itself. She says that river is the blood meandering through Louisiana’s veins, and it casts a spell on all who love it.

Everyday fall in love with being alive

Life is too short Be with someone who takes your breath away

With its ten-foot-high inward sloping walls, slick with algae, I was stuck. “Lord love a duck,” I muttered. “Can this get any worse?

I realized how love could insulate a person from just about anything. Especially self-love.

Some people we will love a lifetime. Yet destiny’s pen has erased our names from each other’s life, but what has been etched in the heart lasts forever.

We must learn to discern between natural and manufactured numbness, and honor natural numbness as a call for tenderness with one another and ourselves.

We all remember the ones who touched our heart so deeply, That our heartbeats began to dance and reminded us to live once again.

Never underestimate the infinite love within you It has the power to transform lives

My shame unraveled into a cycle of self-destruction.

Boundaries are the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously.

I am not broken, even though my heart has been.

You're beautiful".She returned both hands to the reins. Her horse tossed his head, sending the curb chain of his Pelham bit clinking. "I'm flattered you think so"." But beauty doesn't last"."Your kind will."She gave him a doubtful look. He gazed steadily back at her, as solemn as he'd ever been."I believe, maam, that you have a beautiful soul. That you are a beautiful soul. I don't expect that will alter with age."She stared at him for an instant, seemingly speechless. Her mouth trembled."What a lovely sentiment." He shrugged."It's the truth.

Every one has their own journey and although some people's way makes no sense to you, it simply doesn't matter. In these situations, the most loving thing you can do is allow them to follow their chosen paths. Give yourself permission to let go, move on and do what’s best for you. Give freedom to yourself and others.

sadly, no one else can ever understand your loss. It belongs to you. It impacts only you. And guess what? They don’t need to understand.” Mimi paused. “But you do. You need to fully appreciate how this has changed you, so that you can indeed move on and live, but as this changed person, who might now want different things. Who might now want different people about them. And, yes, God forbid, different people to love again.

Everyone we meet has wounds upon their heart. Everyone is waiting for someone to scatter the seeds of love amongst their tears and to be patient enough to wait for their beautiful fragrance of dreams to awaken once more.

On some level, Mimi always enjoyed her infrequent meetings with Monte, as his love of hearing himself talk and his need to put others in their place kept him so fully occupied, she could usually just sit back and think about something else.

Okay. Parachuting on its own? Maybe not so terrifying. Parachuting into a Mexican jungle at night while strapped to an angry Uchben man named Brutus? An unimaginable nightmare that would haunt my every waking moment for the rest of my life.

[Bob] Dylan said, "I don't have to B.S. anybody like those guys up on Broadway that're always writin' about 'I'm hot for you and you're hot for me--ooka dooka dicka dee.' There's other things in the world besides love and sex that're important too. People shouldn't turn their backs on 'em just because they ain't pretty to look at. How is the world ever gonna get any better if we're afraid to look at these things.

Most descriptions of Mimi that have appeared in print were based on interviews with her – she outlived John by eleven years. She loved to fuel the image of the stern but loving aunt who provided the secure backdrop to John’s success. But that wasn’t the Mimi I knew. She battered away at John’s self-confidence and left him angry and hurt.

If you don’t look at yourself, you can’t know yourself. If you don’t know your flaws, lumps and bumps then someone else can use them against you to make you feel inferior. I think you’re perfect just the way you are. I believe if you hide from who you are, you let everyone else define you instead of you. You are your power, embrace that and be beautiful.

It hadn’t been love at first sight. That was too trite. Too simplistic. But something within him had recognized something in her. Had understood that she would be important to him.

It’s difficult to dispense with strategy when I want something as much as I want you.

If you were mine, you would be my first and best concern. I would in all things endeavor to make you happy.

Love doesn’t always translate into perfect little speeches. What matters most is what you do.

Every soul has the essence of the Divine truth and love within them

Just close your eyes and come and meet me in that place where we can share the music of our silence

God is the vessel of love that gives wings to our prayers

To be of service to others, is to serve our own soul, there is no greater love than the one we have been created with and that is the Divine spark within all of us

To tell someone how we truly feel, may take a moment of great courage But to lose that chance can be the regret of a lifetime

He reached for her, his hand coming to cradle her cheek in that way of his. He regarded her steadily, his blue gaze as solemn as it was tender. “And yes, my darling girl. I really do love you.

Some people arrive only when we reach a crossroads within ourselves, when decisions have to be made, when change is inevitable, but we lack the courage to embrace it. They touch a part of us so deeply that it changes the entire direction of our life, and that exhilarating feeling of love we feel with them, is enough to guide us and give us the strength to take the right road, even if it’s on our own.

I feel weird. Too much bacon. Everything’s jumping around inside me.” Mitchell fixed me with a serious stare. “Peaches. That fluttering is love, not bacon.” “Are you sure? It feels like bacon. Does love feel like bacon?

Ukipata matatizo kumbuka kwamba Yesu alipata matatizo pia, na kutokana na matatizo hayo mimi na wewe tulipata uhuru. Soma Biblia. Soma nyimbo katika kitabu cha Zaburi zinazomsifu Mungu katika kipindi cha matatizo. Funga na kuomba ukiamini kwamba mapenzi ya Mungu kwetu ni huru, yasiyokuwa na masharti yoyote. Toa msamaha kwa waliokukosea. Ni kitu cha muhimu kujilimbikizia imani katika kipindi cha amani, ili matatizo yakitokea usiweze kuyumba.

Adam Kuambiana umerudi nyumbani ulikotoka, ukiongozwa na imani na mwanga wa wale uliowapenda na kuwapoteza. Hatuwezi kukumbuka kwamba umetutoka bila kukumbuka kwamba uliishi, na kwamba maisha yako yalitupa kumbukumbu nzuri tusizoweza kuzisahau haraka. Jumanne, siku ya kuuaga mwili uliokuwa ukitumiwa na wewe, wengine watasema Kwa heri lakini mimi nitasema Asante! Asante kwa sababu ya kipaji chako. Asante kwa sababu ya kujitahidi kwa kadiri ya uwezo wako wote, kutoa sauti kwa wale wote waliokuwa hawawezi kusikika. Asante kwa sababu ya kuacha dunia katika hali nzuri kuliko ulivyoikuta wakati ukiingia, na Asante kwa sababu ya maisha yako. Tukiendelea kuomboleza kifo cha Adam Kuambiana hapa duniani, wengine wanasherehekea kukutana naye huko mbinguni. Mchungaji wa uhai wa wote Mungu wa mbinguni ailaze roho yake mahali pema peponi: Yeye ni mwandishi wa hadithi ya maisha yetu na ndiye aliyeandika ukurasa wa mwisho wa hadithi ya Adam.

But Sophie was driven to continue, her words tumbling out in an impassioned rush. “I think I fell a little bit in love with you the night I came to your office in Fleet Street. And I’ve grown to love you more each day. So, if you have any feelings for me at all—if you have any inclination—I’d like very much for you to marry me and take me back to London. Because I do love you, Ned. And though I have no dowry, I would try very hard to be a good wife to you. To make up for any shortcomings

I've been miserable for more years than I can count... I have suffered, too.... A girl requires more than expensive things. She needs love and acceptance. She needs to know she has value. Being your daughter made me in to a shadow. Much longer, I fear I would have vanished.

Now tell me the truth," he said. "Why are you doing this?" She cringe from him. "I told you why." "I know you still love me." He smiled. "I can see it in your face." Mimi sneered. "We are with Lucifer now; we have always been false." "I don't believe it for one second," Kingsley whispered, looking into her eyes tenderly.

... the fundamental quest both before and after his new life began had always been a spiritual one, the dream of an enduring connection, a reciprocal love between compatible souls, souls endowed with bodies, of course, mercifully endowed with bodies, but the soul came first, would always come first, and in spite of his flirtations with Carol, Jane, Nancy, Susan, Mimi, Linda, and Connie, he soon learned that none of those girls possessed the soul he was looking for, and one by one he had lost interest in them and allowed them to disappear from his heart.

We must do the labor of deep unlearning. Love cannot coexist alongside fetish and domination, and we must free ourselves of these fantasies that turn us into vases, shadows, and ghosts. One of the only ways to rebuke these hollow fantasies is to be grounded in community and to relearn what abundant love can truly look like. I want to trust in love, and I can only be in a loving, trusting relationship with somebody who is also willing to sacrifice these illusions of 'power', release their learned ideas of fetishistic desirability, and dismantle these structures of domination.

Text from Mimi to Caroline: So I’m thinking we should have a game night—you know, play Pictionary and stuff like that? I’d love to, but I’m slammed. When were you thinking? Maybe the Saturday night before Thanksgiving? Can you spare a few hours over the weekend? I can spare a few hours, yes, that’s about it. You guys wanna come out to Sausalito? Be nice not to have to go back into the city. We can do that. I was thinking we should invite Sophia. Of course we should. And Neil. Oh boy. Trust me. There’s an entire wall of windows in Jillian’s house, Mimi. The last thing I need is someone throwing things. Trust me. Think Barry Derry sells party insurance?

And then I saw it. My father's wood: thick by then with twenty years' growth, but still not fully mature. A half-grown wood of oak trees around that little clearing, which, with my new perspective, I could see made the shape of a heart. I stared down at the clearing. The heart was unmistakable; tapered at the base with the strawberry field in the centre; a stand of trees to form the cleft. How long had it taken my father, I thought, to plan the formation, to plant out the trees? How many calculations had he made to create this God's-eye view? I thought of the years I had been at school; the years I had felt his absence. I remembered the contempt I'd felt at his little hobby. And finally I understood what he'd tried to say to me on the night of my wedding. 'Love is the thing that only God sees.' I'd wondered at the time what he meant. My father seldom spoke of love; rarely showed affection. Perhaps that was Tante Anna's influence, or maybe the few words he'd had were all spent on Naomi. But here it was at last, I saw: the heart-shaped meadow in the wood, a silent testament to grief; a last, enduring promise. Love is the thing that only God sees. I supposeyou'dsay that's because he sees into our hearts. Well, if he ever looks in mine, he'll see no more than I've told you. Confession may be good for the soul. But love is even better. Love redeems us even when we think ourselves irredeemable. I never really loved my wife- not in the way that she deserved. My children and I were never close. Perhaps that was my fault, after all. But Mimi- yes, I loved Mimi. And I loved Rosette Rocher, who was so very like her. One day I hope Rosette will see the heart-shaped meadow in the wood, and know that love surrounds her, whether see can see it or not. And you, Reynaud. I hope one day you can feel what only God sees, but which grows from the hearts of people like us: the flawed; the scarred; the broken. I hope you find it one day, Reynaud. Till then, look after Rosette for me. Make sure she knows my story. Tell her to take care of my wood. And keep picking the strawberries.

Remember that once we were all the children of tomorrow's light and hope. Someone, somewhere dreamed of you even before you were born. We have already met in a thousand wishes or more. As the nights pass and the days turn into sand, Let us remember our gentleness and the beauty of our soul. Never forget that our faces have been kissed by a hundred Angels welcoming us into this world. A thousand moments have flown past our eyes and with each caress of the wind, it carries a prayer, whispering... Oh how I miss you. Many of our tears have fallen and we have all stood with regret holding our hand and loneliness laying beside us. Even when the distant memories come and knock at the doors of our heart, Each one remind us of the embraces we shared with those we love. But do not fear dear ones, True love never dies, it lives beyond time and space, it lives forever. Our souls will always be connected, We now have to rise to the frequency of a higher Divine love calling our name. And one day soon we will all be reunited in a far more beautiful and magnificent way that we could only have ever dreamed about. So my beloved ones, take a deep breath, put your hand on your heart and embrace this moment, with courage and faith. Turn your gaze towards the horizon of hope. We can do this magnificent journey together with love beneath our wings. Let us embrace love like never before and before you know it we will have flown towards each other realising that we had our wings of freedom all along. Until we meet again...We walk in dreams.

And then I saw it. My father's wood: thick by then with twenty years' growth, but still not fully mature. A half-grown wood of oak trees around that little clearing, which, with my new perspective, I could see made the shape of a heart. I stared down at the clearing. The heart was unmistakable; tapered at the base with the strawberry field in the centre; a stand of trees to form the cleft. How long had it taken my father, I thought, to plan the formation, to plant out the trees? How many calculations had he made to create this God's-eye view? I thought of the years I had been at school; the years I had felt his absence. I remembered the contempt I'd felt at his little hobby. And finally I understood what he'd tried to say to me on the night of my wedding. 'Love is the thing that only God sees.' I'd wondered at the time what he meant. My father seldom spoke of love; rarely showed affection. Perhaps that was Tante Anna's influence, or maybe the few words he'd had were all spent on Naomi. But here it was at last, I saw: the heart-shaped meadow in the wood, a silent testament to grief; a last, enduring promise. Love is the thing that only God sees. I suppose you'd say that's because he sees into our hearts. Well, if he ever looks in mine, he'll see no more than I've told you. Confession may be good for the soul. But love is even better. Love redeems us even when we think ourselves irredeemable. I never really loved my wife- not in the way that she deserved. My children and I were never close. Perhaps that was my fault, after all. But Mimi- yes, I loved Mimi. And I loved Rosette Rocher, who was so very like her. One day I hope Rosette will see the heart-shaped meadow in the wood, and know that love surrounds her, whether see can see it or not. And you, Reynaud. I hope one day you can feel what only God sees, but which grows from the hearts of people like us: the flawed; the scarred; the broken. I hope you find it one day, Reynaud. Till then, look after Rosette for me. Make sure she knows my story. Tell her to take care of my wood. And keep picking the strawberries.

crazy touches. She loves art and sometimes makes herself jewelry, especially big earrings. (Claudia, of course, has pierced ears, which Mal and I want desperately but are not allowed to have yet. All we’re going to get is braces on our teeth.) Anyway, Claudia doesn’t just love art, she’s a really good artist. Unfortunately, she’s a terrible student. Being a poor student is bad enough, but when you have an older sister who is a genius, like Claudia’s sister, Janine, it’s really tough. Claudia manages, though. She does as well as she can in school, and otherwise concentrates on her art and babysitting. She lives with her parents, her sister, and her grandmother, Mimi. Mary Anne Spier is the club secretary. She’s in charge of keeping the record book in order, except for the money stuff. (That’s Dawn Schafer’s job, since she’s the treasurer.) It’s hard to believe that Mary Anne and Kristy are best friends. This is because in a lot of ways they’re opposites. Oh, they look alike, all right. They’re the two shortest kids in their grade and they both have brown hair and brown eyes, but that’s where the similarities end. Kristy is loud and outgoing, Mary

The demand to be intimate or honest with a public can be invasive when the experiences of racial others are commodified as stories or objects that might be traded as evidence of intimacy, as proof of 'being good,' for nonracial others. In this way, intimacy might act as surveillance, through which some people--women of color, for instance--must reveal themselves to bear the burden of representation ('You are here as an example') and the weight of pedagogy ('Teach us about your people'). Intimacy can be a force--especially when others set its terms and conditions. So what if you don't love the (white) girls who exhaust you, who want too much from you, who want to turn you into a commodity or a badge or an experience to share? What if you become a girl in opposition to other girls? This is also the problem with definitions of racism as ignorance, and ignorance as the absence of intimacy--which posits that intimacy is the solution to ignorance. This gives us terrible, stupid disavowals like 'I'm not racist, I have black friends,' as if intimacy is a shield that protects the wearer from harm. It limits our sense of what racism is to the scale of the interpersonal, when it is in fact this enormous constellation of forces and moving parts that structures our institutions--and so-called institutions--profoundly.