Mines View Park Quotes

No!" he cried and his face pinched with frustration and pain. "I don't want to hear more reasons why we shouldn't be together. No more confessions to explain why you want to run away from what we share." "Julian," she attempted to interrupt again, but he held up a trembling hand. His dark gaze held hers. "I have moved heaven and earth to bring you back to me. I refuse to let you leave again. You are mine and you shall be mine for the rest of my life. Not as my mistress, but as my wife. And if you don't say yes, I shall be forced to drag you into Hyde Park and make love to you in plain view of everyone. Then you will have to accept my proposal in order to save your reputation." His face softened. "I love you, Cecilia.

Oh I could be out, rollicking in the ripeness of my flesh and others’, could be drinking things and eating things and rubbing mine against theirs, speculating about this person or that, waving, indicating hello with a sudden upward jutting of my chin, sitting in the backseat of someone else’s car, bumping up and down the San Francisco hills, south of Market, seeing people attacking their instruments, afterward stopping at a bodega, parking, carrying the bottles in a paper bag, the glass clinking, all our faces bright, glowing under streetlamps, down the sidewalk to this or that apartment party, hi, hi, putting the bottles in the fridge, removing one for now, hating the apartment, checking the view, sitting on the arm of a couch and being told not to, and then waiting for the bathroom, staring idly at that ubiquitous Ansel Adams print, Yosemite, talking to a short-haired girl while waiting in the hallway, talking about teeth, no reason really, the train of thought unclear, asking to see her fillings, no, really, I’ll show you mine first, ha ha, then no, you go ahead, I’ll go after you, then, after using the bathroom she is still there, still in the hallway, she was waiting not just for the bathroom but for me, and so eventually we’ll go home together, her apartment, where she lives alone, in a wide, immaculate railroad type place, newly painted, decorated with her mother, then sleeping in her oversized, oversoft white bed, eating breakfast in her light-filled nook, then maybe to the beach for a few hours with the Sunday paper, then wandering home whenever, never- Fuck. We don't even have a baby-sitter.

Mine was just an ordinary general hospital: the Lutheran, in a suburb of Chicago called Park Ridge. It was a big, grey, monolithic building, with mirrored glass windows. It didn’t seem much like a place that offered yoga classes by the pool. The only thing it had a view of was a shopping centre car park.

A sexy smirk curled his lips. “I was behind you and your dad. The best view I’ve ever had during my morning runs.” Heat flooded my cheeks. “I’ll tell Dad he has an admirer.” Torin laughed. “Come on. Let’s go.”  I put the headphones in the pocket of my jacket and started jogging again. “You want to have lunch with me?” he asked, falling beside me. “Today?” “Yes, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and the day after…” “If you catch me before we reach the entrance of the park, then I’m yours.” He flashed another wicked grin. “You are mine.” Shameless.

Unfortunately the hostility that the European displayed toward the native cultures he encountered he carried even further into his relations with the land. The immense open spaces of the American continents, with all their unexploited or thinly utilized resources, were treated as a challenge to unrelenting war, destruction, and conquest. The forests were there to be cut down, the prairie to be plowed up, the marshes to be filled, the wildlife to be killed for empty sport, even if not utilized for food or clothing. In the act of 'conquering nature' our ancestors too often treated the earth as contemptuously and as brutally as they treated its original inhabitants, wiping out great animal species like the bison and the passenger pigeon, mining the soils instead of annually replenishing them, and even, in the present day, invading the last wilderness areas, precious just because they are still wildernesses, homes for wildlife and solitary human souls. Instead we are surrendering them to six-lane highways, gas stations, amusement parks, and the lumber interests, as in the redwood groves, or Yosemite, and Lake Tahoe-though these primeval areas, once desecrated, can never be fully restored or replaced. I have no wish to overstress the negative side of this great exploration. If I seem to do so here it is because both the older romantic exponents of a new life lived in accordance with Nature, or the later exponents of a new life framed in conformity to the Machine, overlooked the appalling losses and wastages, under the delusion either that the primeval abundance was inexhaustible or else that the losses did not matter, since modern man through science and invention would soon fabricate an artificial world infinitely more wonderful than that nature had provided-an even grosser delusion. Both views have long been rife in the United States where the two phases of the New World dream came together; and they are still prevalent.

The men fortunately didn’t notice my near heart attack or me.  They were too busy watching something in the parking lot.  Standing shoulder to shoulder, they blocked my view.  I didn’t really care what had them so engrossed; I wanted to go home. I heard Sam behind me, muttered a quick “excuse me,” and moved around the small group.  It took me less than a second to spot the object of their attention.  Once I did, I couldn’t look away. Sam’s truck had exploded.  Ok, maybe not literally, but that’s what it looked like at first glance.  The detached hood leaned against the right front fender.  Dark shapes littered the ground directly in front of the truck.  My mouth popped open when I realized I was looking at scattered pieces of the truck’s guts.  Little pieces, big pieces, some covered in sludge.  Deep inside, I groaned a desperate denial.  Not Sam’s truck.  I needed it. A clanking sound drew my attention from the carnage to the form bent over the front grill.  He did this, the last man I’d met.  He studied the gaping hole that had once lovingly cradled an engine—one with enough life to drive me home. “Gabby, honey,” Sam said from behind me, causing me to jump.  “I don’t think he wants you to go just yet.” My heart sank.  Not only did the man’s actions scream loud and clear “she’s mine” but Sam’s calm statement confirmed my worst fear.  The Elders had noticed.  My stomach clenched with dread for a moment, and I wrestled with my emotions.  No, it didn’t matter who noticed.  I wasn’t giving up or giving in.  I’d told Sam I’d come to the Introductions.  I had never agreed to follow their customs. “There’s more than one vehicle here,” I said. “If we go inside to ask anyone else, we’ll come back to more vehicular murder.” I turned to look at Sam.  He watched the man and his truck.  He was right.  I couldn’t ask anyone else to deal with this guy’s obvious mental disorder.  As soon as that thought entered my mind, I felt a little guilty.  I usually didn’t judge people.  I preferred to avoid them altogether.  But this guy made himself hard to ignore. “Fine.”  I shouldered my bag, turned, and walked toward the main gate, pretending I didn’t hear Sam’s warning. “You won’t get far,” he said softly behind me. The

What are you facing today that you wouldn’t be facing if you were in control? What are you required to deal with that you really wish you could avoid? Where have your plans dripped like sand through your fingers? Where would you like to take back choices and redo decisions? Where do you tend to look over the fence and wish you had someone else’s life? Where do you feel troubled, inadequate, weak, defeated, overwhelmed, alienated, or alone? Where do thoughts of the past tend to flood you with regret, or visions of the future make you a bit afraid? What causes you to wish life was easier or at least a bit more predictable? If you could change a couple of things in your life right now, what would they be? Where does it feel to you as if you’re on an amusement park ride that you never intended to be on? If you’re not in one of the moments I’ve described above, you will be someday, and you are near to someone who is. Life in this fallen world is often very hard. This world and everything in it are not functioning the way God intended. The brokenness of this fallen world will enter your door and somehow alter the trajectory of your life. In those moments, it is tempting to conclude that life is all about surviving the chaos. You feel that you don’t have much power, you have been confronted with the fact that there’s not much that you control, and you have no idea of what might be lurking around the corner. It all seems impossible and scary. But this is not where God’s Word leaves us. Yes, it does confront us with our smallness, weakness, and lack of control, but it doesn’t leave us there. The Bible declares something to us that is the opposite of the way we tend to think. It tells us that the difficulties that we face every day, the seeming chaos that regularly greets us, are not the result of the world being out of control, but the result of the reign of One who is in complete control. Paul says in Ephesians 1:22, “And he [God] put all things under his [Christ’s] feet and gave him as head over all things to the church” (the explanations in brackets are mine). So no matter how it looks to you at street level, your world is not out of control; no, it is under careful rule. As radical as that thought is, it’s not radical enough, because it does not do justice to all that Paul says. Paul wants you to know something else. That rule has you in view! Right now, Jesus rules over all things for the sake of his children. This is where peace is to be found.