Okay Lang Quotes

Kenji, okay lang ba kung makalin kita? 'I love you', gusto kong sabihin sayo pero natatakot ako. Hindi ko alam kung saan ako natatakot. Pag sinabi ko bang 'I love you', sasabihin mo rin ng 'I love you too'. Sigh.

The End "I don't know what to say," he said. "It's okay," she replied, "I know what we are - and I know what we're not.

Which is why I am not here to tell you tomorrow will be a new day. That the sun will go on shining. Or there are plenty of fish in the sea. What I will tell you is this; it’s okay to be hurting as much as you are. What you are feeling is not only completely valid but necessary—because it makes you so much more human. And though I can’t promise it will get better any time soon, I can tell you that it will—eventually. For now, all you can do is take your time. Take all the time you need.

I.. I.. I love you." "Ano ka ba. Bakit ba masyado kang nagiging seryoso? Okay ka lang ba?" "Because I am serious. Seryoso ako sa mga sinabi ko.. sa nafifeel ko. I love you Kenji." "Yung binitawan mong salita, parang katumbas sa pag sabing hindi ka na makahinga. Alam mo ba yun? Sige na umuwi ka na. Goodnight." "You know what? Fine. Just forget everything that I have said. It meant nothing naman diba, kasi I was too serious. Sorry for feeling this way. Goodnight." "Athena.. Athena wait... I.. I.. I can't breathe.

You won’t hear from me again after today, and I don’t want you to worry. I’ll be okay. Because I have to be.

Reaching Out I have given so much to things that weren't worth my time. When all along, it's the people I love that I should have carried. It's the ones I cared for whom I should have been responsible. But maybe I'm too late. Because I don't know how to talk to you. I don't know how to ask you if you're okay. I don't know how to tell you I am so afraid of losing you. How much light would leave my life if you were no longer part of it. I just hope you realize how much you mean to me. I just wish I could remind you of how beautiful you are. I'm sorry I haven't told you in so long. But please don't think I have given up on you. I will never give up on you. My arms are wide open. There is always a place for you here.

May choice naman yata ako na hindi umasa sa pagbabalik ni Jen. Na kalimutan na siya nang tuluyan at maghanap na ng iba o mahanap ako ng iba. O pwedeng ako lang at wala na siya sa sistema ko. Dati naman akong okay nung wala pa siya. Dapat okay pa rin ako kahit wala na siya. Pero choice ko yata na pahirapan ang sarili ko. At sa ginagawa kong pagpapahirap sa sarili ko, parang nasisiyahan ako. Masaya yata ako na nahihirapan akong mahalin siya mula sa kawalan. Teka, kung masaya ako kahit nahihirapan ako... hindi kaya mas mahal ko ang sarili ko kesa sa kanya? Kung pinipilit ko siyang magstay para maging masaya ako pero hindi naman siya masaya, hindi rin ako magiging masaya. Kung masaya siya na malaya siya at masaya ako na masaya siya, teka uli... ultimately, ako ang sumasaya sa lahat ng ito? Dapat akong maging masaya! Bakit hindi ako masaya? Masaya ba ako o may sayad na?

It was always the same question, over and over again. Like the start of a procession. And it took me years to recognise the unsaid words that marched silently behind. Are you okay; because I love you. Are you okay; because I need you. Are you okay; because I don’t know how to live without you.

I don’t know what to say,' he said.  'It’s okay,' she replied, 'I know what we are—and I know what we’re not.

I used to think I couldn't go a day without your smile. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back. Then, that day arrived and it was so damn hard but the next was harder. I knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and I wasn't going to be okay for a very long time. Because losing someone isn't an occasion or an event. It doesn't just happen once. It happens over and over again. I lose you every time I pick up your favorite coffee mug; whenever that one song plays on the radio, or when I discover your old t-shirt at the bottom of my laundry pile. I lose you every time I think of kissing you, holding you, or wanting you. I go to bed at night and lose you, when I wish could tell you about my day. And in the morning, when I wake and reach for the empty space across the sheets, begin to lose you all over again.

I know you’ve lost someone and it hurts. You may have lost them suddenly, unexpectedly. Or perhaps you began losing pieces of them until one day, there was nothing left. You may have known them all your life or you may have barely known them at all. Either way, it is irrelevant — you cannot control the depth of a wound another soul inflicts upon you. Which is why I am not here to tell you tomorrow is another day. That the sun will go on shining. Or there are plenty of fish in the sea. What I will tell you is this; it’s okay to be hurting as much as you are. What you are feeling is not only completely valid but necessary — because it makes you so much more human. And though I can’t promise it will get better any time soon, I can tell you that it will — eventually. For now, all you can do is take your time. Take all the time you need.

The End “I don’t know what to say,” he said.   “It’s okay,” she replied, “I know what we are—      and I know what we’re not.

Salve “You’ve made your choice, and there’s nothing I can do,” she said. “I don’t think you want me in your life anymore, and I have to find a way to live with that. You said you would still be there for me, but I don’t want to be a mere courtesy—a salve for your guilt. You won’t hear from me again after today, and I don’t want you to worry. I’ll be okay. Because I have to be.

Do heroes ever get happy endings? As long as you have food to eat and clothes to wear, as long as you can sleep without worrying about the next day, that’s already the best life you can possibly live. Even if it’s boring, even if you’re hard up, you’ll be okay.

So, okay ka na? Aba, dapat lang ‘no? Pagkatapos mong basain ang polo shirt ko at pagkatapos kitang yakapin, dapat lang na maging okay ka na.

I’ll go in by myself.” “Okay, that’s fine. Take as long as you need,” Lang replied. Linda Prowse sat down on the cold plastic seat outside what, to her, looked like the doorway of an office with a mirrored window beside it.

Procession He used to ask me all the time if I was okay. As though he never knew for sure. He would ask me when he was tired or frustrated or when he felt helpless. He would ask me when he was afraid. He asked me that same question, long after we stopped being lovers—when we became something less yet somehow more. Are you okay? He would whisper on the phone late at night, when his girlfriend was asleep or had gone to her mother’s for the weekend. Are you okay? He hasn’t asked me in years, but I know he still thinks it. I know the question still reverberates in his mind like a broken record and he will keep looking for answers long after there is nothing left to appease him. It was always the same question, over and over again. Like the start of a procession. And it took me years to recognize the unsaid words that marched silently behind. Are you okay; because I love you. Are you okay; because I need you. Are you okay; because I don’t know how to live without you.

I was still dating Dana, who called me with an urgent message: she and her mother wanted to place bets on the Super Bowl. They wanted to bet the over-under. This was a first. “So how much do you want to bet?” I asked. “Okay, I’ve thought about it, and I want fifty dollars on the over, and so does Mom.” “Okay, I got it.” I hung up, having no intention of placing that bet because I would never bet fifty dollars on anything.

Let It I have a rule about not thinking where I am or what comes next. I guess when you let go of the need to know, everything tends to fall into place. It is okay to dream, to allow your higher self to take care of the rest.So, if something is calling you, answer. If it bursts out of your chest like a trapped bird set free, follow it. There is a mysterious pull that longs to take you exactly where you need to go. Let it.

lagi mo akong sinasagot “Okay lang ako.” Pero hindi ako naniniwala.

or trepidation, like they wanted to run away as fast as they could once the photo was taken. But Manfred Lange appeared happy to be photographed. His occupation was listed as art historian, and his date of birth as 29 June 1871. All consistent with what Anna knew about him. She flipped the little cardboard folder of his work permit over. Underneath was a membership card to the NSDAP, the Nazi Party. Again, his unapologetic face stared out at her. Member number 149578. So he had been a party member. Anna twinged a little. Had he told her he had been a party member? People with important jobs usually had to be, and it didn’t necessarily mean they were true believers, or even sympathizers. Still, it bothered her. She scanned the room trying not to appear furtive but failing. She quickly flipped pages to see if she could find his Fragebogen, the questionnaire the Americans would have made him complete. But it wasn’t there, of course, because these were the Germans’ files, not the Americans’. Deeply uncomfortable, she flipped back to the party membership card. The date of issue was 20 April 1933. Hitler’s birthday. Manfred Lange had been what the Germans called a March Violet—a late bloomer. March Violets were those who joined the party right after Hitler had seized full authority in March of 1933. Many with elite jobs and who considered themselves to have standing in society, rushed to join the party in order to be on the right side of the power grab. Probably that’s what Manfred Lange had done, too, like millions of others. She closed the folder indicating she was ready to go. She wanted to be out of the building and far away. “Find anything we should know about?” Bender asked, as he held the door for her. “No,” she lied. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it,” he said, climbing into the driver’s seat. The air had turned colder and the sky was socked in with dense clouds. “Looks like we’re in the clear for now. At least with the folks working for us.” He shot her a look. “Should you have let me see Herr Lange’s information?” Anna retaliated to deflect any further line of questioning. He smiled as he started the engine. “Probably not,” he said, “but I can’t help it. I’m so nosy.” Six “Where were you? I couldn’t find you at all yesterday.” Cooper was flustered and irritated but a smile appeared when Anna looked up at him from her desk. Things had piled up while she was out with Bender, so she had come in early to catch up. Anna honestly couldn’t remember if Manfred Lange had mentioned being a party member; she could only recall that he was very against the Nazis’ attitude toward art and free speech to the point where the memories had upset him. She hated that these misgivings lived on and probably would forever. One day, Amalia would ask her what she had done in the war. “I went with Bender to Darmstadt. I thought you knew about that,” she said. “He told me he had checked with you.” “That’s right. Of course. Was it a successful trip?” He sat down in the chair next to her table, intent on something. “I think so. He asked me to help him translate some paperwork. He was checking on some personnel? I didn’t find anything.” “Sounds like good news. For us, anyway. We already had to fire some people when their past caught up with them.” “Because they were party members?” “Or worse. Makes sense, but we had to let some very qualified people go. And with all these government types breathing down our necks, we can’t afford a single screw up. Washington is just waiting for something to go wrong so they can scrap this whole operation.” His face sank back into the shadows it had carried for the past weeks. He leaned forward and dropped his face into his hands. Anna felt sorry for him. “That won’t happen,” she said. “You will make sure of it.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. Without looking at her, Cooper took her hand in his and held it in place, his

Nun denn, aber auf deinem Weg dein eigenes Leben nicht vergessen, okay? Das ist nämlich genauso wichtig wie das von allen anderen, aber sich selbst behandelt man oft am miesesten, und irgendwann ist es zu spät.

The next thing she remembered was a sudden burst of noise, the freezing cold, and white-hot pain knifing through her body. Then two men. One of them, Detective Lang, told her they were the police and that everything would be okay.

It’s okay,” Ty said. “It really should be certified public asshole. Besides, she’s called me worse.