Rhode Quotes

Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting.

Even paradise could become a prison if one had enough time to take notice of the walls.

Love is the strongest emotion any creature can feel except for hate, but hate can't hurt you. Love, and trust, and friendship, and all the other emotions humans value so much, are the only emotions that can bring pain. Only love can break a heart into so many pieces.

Who am I? Who am I?” “You’re Jude St. Francis. You are my oldest, dearest friend. You’re the son of Harold Stein and Julia Altman. You’re the friend of Malcolm Irvine, of Jean-Baptiste Marion, of Richard Goldfarb, of Andy Contractor, of Lucien Voigt, of Citizen van Straaten, of Rhodes Arrowsmith, of Elijah Kozma, of Phaedra de los Santos, of the Henry Youngs. You’re a New Yorker. You live in SoHo. You volunteer for an arts organization; you volunteer for a food kitchen. You’re a swimmer. You’re a baker. You’re a cook. You’re a reader. You have a beautiful voice, though you never sing anymore. You’re an excellent pianist. You’re an art collector. You write me lovely messages when I’m away. You’re patient. You’re generous. You’re the best listener I know. You’re the smartest person I know, in every way. You’re the bravest person I know, in every way. You’re a lawyer. You’re the chair of the litigation department at Rosen Pritchard and Klein. You love your job; you work hard at it. You’re a mathematician. You’re a logician. You’ve tried to teach me, again and again. You were treated horribly. You came out on the other end. You were always you.” "And who are you?" "I'm Willem Ragnarsson. And I will never let you go.

Sometimes he wakes so far from himself that he can’t even remember who he is. “Where am I?” he asks, desperate, and then, “Who am I? Who am I?” And then he hears, so close to his ear that it is as if the voice is originating inside his own head, Willem’s whispered incantation. “You’re Jude St. Francis. You are my oldest, dearest friend. You’re the son of Harold Stein and Julia Altman. You’re the friend of Malcolm Irvine, of Jean-Baptiste Marion, of Richard Goldfarb, of Andy Contractor, of Lucien Voigt, of Citizen van Straaten, of Rhodes Arrowsmith, of Elijah Kozma, of Phaedra de los Santos, of the Henry Youngs. “You’re a New Yorker. You live in SoHo. You volunteer for an arts organization; you volunteer for a food kitchen. “You’re a swimmer. You’re a baker. You’re a cook. You’re a reader. You have a beautiful voice, though you never sing anymore. You’re an excellent pianist. You’re an art collector. You write me lovely messages when I’m away. You’re patient. You’re generous. You’re the best listener I know. You’re the smartest person I know, in every way. You’re the bravest person I know, in every way. “You’re a lawyer. You’re the chair of the litigation department at Rosen Pritchard and Klein. You love your job; you work hard at it. “You’re a mathematician. You’re a logician. You’ve tried to teach me, again and again. “You were treated horribly. You came out on the other end. You were always you.

Because if you don't choose to fight against the wrong in the world, then you are the wrong in the world.

You must continue to believe with all your heart. Sometimes belief is all if takes to make something real.

You're the same as you were yesterday and the day before. Nothing has changed. Not really. Forget what troubles you. Regret nothing, but learn from any mistakes you make. Tomorrow will be a brighter day, I promise.

Sometimes, to regain sanity, one had to acknowledge and embrace the madness.

I'm standing in a slaughterhouse where the cattle are begging to become hamburgers. I have a right to be jumpy.

In the shadow my father has cast over my entire life, you are the only light I can see anymore. And, whatever the cost, I refuse to let that light be extinguished

blessed be she who is both furious and magnificent

Even in the darkest and most cruel person, there is still a kernel of good. And within the most perfect champion, there is darkness. The question is, will one give in to the dark or the light? It's something we decide with every choice we make, every day that we exist. What might not be evil to you could be evil to someone else. Knowing this makes us powerful even without magic.

She was his princess. No. She was his goddess. With her golden skin and golden hair. She was his light. His life. His everything. He loved her more than anything else in this world.

Then his heart, now broken into a thousand pieces, slowly began to turn to ice.

Evil is a choice one makes, not a natural state of being.

People always talk about how hard it can be to remember things - where they left their keys, or the name of an acquaintance - but no one ever talks about how much effort we put into forgetting. I am exhausted from the effort to forget... There are things that have to be forgotten if you want to go on living.

Magnus had come to a horrible realization. One that he knew would cause him nothing but pain and suffering from that day forward. But there was no changing the truth of it. He had fallen in love with her.

The people we lose take a part of us with them… but they leave a part of themselves with us too.

You're a fire hazard, Rhodes," he said. "So stop apologizing for the damage and just let the fucker burn.

Magic will find those with pure hearts, even when all seems lost.

The name Hitler does not offend a black South African because Hitler is not the worst thing a black South African can imagine. Every country thinks their history is the most important, and that’s especially true in the West. But if black South Africans could go back in time and kill one person, Cecil Rhodes would come up before Hitler. If people in the Congo could go back in time and kill one person, Belgium’s King Leopold would come way before Hitler. If Native Americans could go back in time and kill one person, it would probably be Christopher Columbus or Andrew Jackson. I

I ask for trust. It is a lot, I know; it isn't easy to give. But it is all I ask.

I have stories. But stories are not facts.' 'I like stories. Love them, actually. Most of the time they're better than facts.

You don't cry when someone pushes you down. You get up. You get up and you fight back. And pretty soon nobody's going to shove you anymore because they'll see it's not worth it.

Because nine years ago, I walked up to the most beautiful girl in the bar, and tonight she's still the only person I want to talk to.

A story isn't a charcoal sketch, where every stroke lies on the surface to be seen. It's an oil painting, filled with layers that the author must uncover so carefully to show its beauty.

I believe we make our own destinies, every last one of us.

Darkness will always try to extinguish the light. The light will always try to repress the darkness.

But perhaps a heart takes experience and time to harden.

Hate is such a strong emotion. Much more powerful than indifference. But those who burn with hate can also love just as intensely. Can't they? When you hate--or love--do you do so with all your heart? So much that it feels as if you might die from it?

I’ve got you, Rhodes. From here on, I swear.

In a society that worships love, freedom and beauty, dance is sacred. It is a prayer for the future, a remembrance of the past and a joyful exclamation of thanks for the present.

We don't get to choose who the people we love become or are, but you do get to pick if you want to stick around.

Her cerulean eyes widened. "You dream about me?" His gaze snapped back to hers. "Nightmares only

The truth is only dangerous if it can inflict injury.

You must draw from that strength. You must increase it. And you must hold on to it because sometimes that small glimmer of inner strength is all that we have to help us press forward through the darkness.

Hatred is like fire. It burns the one who harnesses it. It's also extremely hard to see more helpful truths through its flames.

What one person does, several people usually consider.

Love is stronger than anger. Love is stronger then hate-stronger than anything. Remember that.

Never dance in a puddle when there's a hole in your shoe (it's always best to take your shoes off first).

Because you had to remember the shitty parts of life to appreciate the good.

It's a penis," Margo said, "in the same sense that Rhode Island is a state: it may have an illustrious history, but it sure isn't big.

Don’t worry, I’m not quitting. I’ve decided I’m going to stay and make his life a living hell while I run his business into the ground. --Kim to Abe

This was the boy who now kissed her without reservation, as if he were dying and she was air itself.

My chest cracked open at his words. I stared into Noah's perfect face and tried to see what he saw. I tried to see us - not individually, not the arrogant, beautiful, reckless lost boy and the angry, broken girl - but what we were, who we were, together. I tried to remember holding his hand at my kitchen table and feeling for the first time since I'd left Rhode Island that I wasn't alone in this. That I belonged.

But you should remember that charm opens far more doors than harsh words do.” “And a sharp ax will open every door.

White pill, blue pill, yellow pill, purple pill; its like swallowing a rainbow every bedtime.

Fear and intimidation are tactics that work very well on those who allow themselves to be afraid and intimidated.

Only love can break a heart into so many pieces.

Live it well and this life can be grand.

Those who appeared to be victims were always the easiest to victimize.

I don’t know how anybody would let you walk away, and it isn’t going to be me. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Are we clear?

Insanity makes the rivers flow.

My prayer is simple my dear one, my dear one. May you never need understand. My prayer is for peacetime, my child, my child. Live it well and this life can be grand.

People cried over endings, but sometimes you had to cry over new beginnings. I wouldn’t forget what I’d left. But I was going to be excited—at least as much as I could be—about this start and however it would end.

I love you, Cleo," he said, the words finally coming to him, with no effort at all because of how true they were. "I love you so much it hurts." Her eyes widened. "What did you just say?" Magnus almost laughed. "I think you heard me right.

Those who cannot be aggressive are hunted down while they shiver and hide because the night is dark.

But even the coldest hate can shift into something warmer if given enough time, just as an ugly caterpillar can turn into a beautiful butterfly.

Maybe you didn’t have to get over your fears completely to conquer them. Maybe if you just faced them in general that counted. Or at least that’s what I wanted to believe.

Hey,” he said. “Some days you pick up eagles like they’re chickens, and some days you run screaming away from innocent bats. I like you both ways, angel. All ways.

The question then is, how much are you willing to give?" And I answered, "Anything." A breath later, Zane echoed my response with, "Everything.

It may have taken nine years, and a whole lot of wrong turns along the way, but their story felt complete at last. Because, finally, she was his.

Follow you heart wherever it leads. Appreciate life, Cleo. It's a gift that can be stolen at any time.

But she didn't fall. Someone was there, reaching an arm around her waist to steady her. She looked up expecting to see Nic, but it was Magnus. His dark brows were drawn tightly together. "Problem, princess?

You speak of giving up my dreams. Have you ever, since Maeve's coven split, had a dream? Have you ever had anything worth dying for?

We love you—I love you—because you’re mine. Because being around you is like being around the sun. Because seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing you sad makes me want to do anything I have to to get that look off your face.

It was desperate, this kiss. Violent, even. But of course it was. It had been building up between them for such a long time, as the battle about this boy who had destroyed her life had raged inside her. This boy who had saved her life, who was cruel and kind, strong and weak. Who was selfish and selfless all at once.

He said we'd become stars when we died watching over the ones we love. Now I watch the sky every night hoping to find him there.

I found a place where I belong, A place with love that feels like home again.

You've met Nick?" "Yep, we've met, all right. He was kind enough to inform me that I have absolutely no say in whether you two date." "Well, you don't." "You know, you all could at least pretend that my opinion makes a difference.

If every mortal looked at others as their friends, not as their enemies, the world would be a much better place, wouldn’t it?

A gown does not make a bride, just as a few empty threats do not make a rebel.

No one ever told you how hard it was to make friends as an adult. But it was hard. Real hard.

Only in our darkest hour do we find the light. Humans are destructive by nature. The world is lacking balance. Terrors are beginning to triumph over the simple joys. Stand back and watch, because you're going to be here when we fall.

That which one fears, one typically won't embrace with open arms.

We are not. We never were; we never shall be. We return to the void we never, for mehay is the center of all, and all is the center of nothing.

Aubrey's voice when he answered was soft. "I'm one of the reasons they wouldn't dare.

Before it is science and career, before it is livelihood, before even it is family or love, freedom is sound sleep and safety to notice the play of morning sun.

I wasn’t as much of an adult as my birth certificate said I should be.

Why did men always find it necessary to comment on whether or not a woman’s exterior pleased them? She knew she was beautiful. No need to constantly restate it, as if doing so would earn one points in a game.

I’m fine not being the first man she’s ever loved because I know I’m going to be the last.

Is it bad to like the way the scars look on my skin? Oh, the way they feel under my hands. My body’s protecting itself, saying, “No, this barrier of scar tissue is to keep you out.

What our hearts want can overtake what our minds tell us is forbidden to us. We can’t control these feelings, even if we desperately wish we could.

What could a mortal say to the merciless Fate? I forced myself to my feet. A'le-Ahnleh was the traditional end to a prayer. By the will of Fate. "A'le-la," I whispered defiantly. By my will.

The night is full of mystery. Even when the moon is brightest, secrets hide everywhere. Then the sun rises and its rays cast so many shadows that the day creates more illusion than all the veiled truth of the night.

Some sought revenge against their mortal enemies with the edge of a sword. Her plan for vengeance began with the edge of a smile.

You gotta come back." "Come Back?" I echoed like I'd never heard those words before. "Home," they said at the same time.

And those with dark pasts didn't always yearn for dark futures.

Even in the darkest and most cruel person, there is still a kernel of good. And within the most perfect champion, there is also darkness. The question is, will one give in to the dark or the light?

You want to know why I did what I did?" His dark brows drew together as if he were only now allowing himself to consider this question. "Its fairly simple, actually. It's because, without your bravery in the face of all that's happened to you, without your constant scheming behind my back, without that fire of hatred and contempt and hope in your eyes when you look at me..." He hissed out a breath. "In the shadow my father has cast over my entire life, you are the only light I can see anymore. And, whatever the cost, I refuse to let that light be extinguished.

Don't take this next undercover assignment. Stay with me instead." Nick's eyes pierced hers, refusing to let her off that easily. "Tell me why." "Because... I love you." She exhaled. No take-backs. The words were out there forever. And it felt great.

But you can't kill humans It's-- Evil? The world is evil Risika. Wolves hunt the stragglers in a group of deer. Vultures devour the fallen.Hyenas destroy the weak. Humans kill that which they fear. Survive and be strong, or die, cornered by your prey, trembling because the night is dark.

What? Who are you marrying?” His jaw tightened.“Princess Cleiona Bellos.” Lucia could not believe her ears. “This has been arranged.” Magnus gave her a look.“Oh, not at all. Since helping to take her father's kingdom and destroy her life,I couldn’t help but fall madly in love with her. Yes,obviously it was arranged.

I lifted my face to meet the kiss, wanting the comfort of his touch as much as I was willing to provide the comfort of mine. The contact was sweet and soft, yet at the same time desperate. It was Zane who pulled away first. "Danica, I think..." He trailed off and kissed me again, this time briefly, just the barest touch of lips to lips. "I love you." From a man who frequently uttered eloquent speeches, the tentative declaration was not the most flattering of compliments-especially when every movement he made and look he cast my way had shown the long truth before now. But coming from the serpent who had once informed me that he did not love me and did not think he ever could, whose cool, polished words could cut to the bone and freeze the Earth's frozen molten blood — whose eyes right now were just a bid dazed, and whose expression was as open and startled as I had ever seen it — the words were more than enough. "I know," I answered. Then, soft but certain, I answered, "I love you too." His smile matched mine and said the same as mine: I know.

I will never, ever regret stopping you from walking out of my life a second time, Kyle," she said in an emotional voice. "And I can prove it." She reached for the buttons on her trench coat and undid them, one at a time. Then she opened the coat and let it drop to the floor. And even if she didn't say a single word more, Kyle knew he would never again doubt the way Rylann felt about him. She was wearing his flannel shirt. "You kept it," he said softly. "All this time." She nodded. "For nine years, I've held on to this darn shirt, literally dragging it across the country and back." Kyle touched her cheek, gently brushing away a tear with his thumb. "Why?" She paused hesitantly, and then with a tender smile, finally put it all on the line, too. "I guess I always hoped you'd come back for it someday.

Most people are too scared to ever put themselves in a position to be criticized. You shouldn’t care what they think if they don’t have the guts to do what you’re doing. You have to remember that too. The only opinion that really matters is your own and other people you respect. Everyone is scared of something, and perfection isn’t realistic. We’re humans, not robots.

Don’t mistake me giving you space as me not being interested. It’s not every woman I let into my bed, much less into my life, and even more into Amos’s life. Before you, it’d been nobody. So just because I don’t know what your mouth tastes like yet doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to. But Sofie would tell you I’ve got a big, fragile heart, and I think I do, so I need you to know what you want for my sake too, Buddy. Does that make it clear?

Do you trust him? When had we reached the point where the answer to Rei's question had become yes without hesitation? When Zane had sat by my bedside for hours while I was drifting in and out of consciousness? When he had arranged for me to be visited by entertainers and friends, or had carried me home when I was too tired to walk? Or when I had first seen him cry and had wanted nothing but to comfort him? I do not know how, yet somehow, impossibly, we are here.

A KISS! A KISS!" the crowd chanted. (...) "I dont know," Cleo began, sickened by the thought of it. How far was she willing to go to appear agreeable? "Quite honestly, it seems like a bad--" Magnus took a tight hold of her arm and turned her around. Before she could say another word, he put his hand behind her neck, drew her closer to him, and kissed her. Every muscle in her body stiffened. It was the sensation of being a bird caught in a hinter's trap. Her wings screamed out for her to fly away as fast and as far as possible. But he held her firmly in place, his mouth against hers, soft but demanding a response. She gripped the front of his shirt. It was all too much--she wasn't sure if she was pushing him away or pulling him closer. Much like diving into deep water, she had no idea which way would find her air to breathe or which way would drag her down deeper into the depths where she would surely drown. And for a moment, just a moment, she found it didn't seem to matter. The warmth of his body against hers on such a cold day, his now-familiar scent of sandalwood, the heat of his mouth against hers...it all made her head spin, and logic fell away.