She Ra Quotes

Die, enemies of Ra!" Sekhemet yelled. "Perish in agony!" "She's almost as annoying as you," I told Horus. "Impossible," Horus said. "No one bests Horus.

I disobeyed Ra's wishes, and so he ordered my onw father, Shu-" "Hang on," I said. "Shoe?" "S-h-u," she said. "The god of the wind." "On." I wished these gods had names that wearn't common household objects. "Go on, please.

Thank Ra!” She exclaimed. “Yeah, I’m alive.” “No, I almost jumped in after you. I hate the water!

How do we beat her? I asked. You pretty much don’t, Horus said. She is the incarnation of the sun’s wrath. Back in the day when Ra was active, she would have been much more impressive, but still. .She’s unstoppable. A born killer. A slaying machine— “Okay, I get it!” I yelled.

The question, then, is how do we stop the nightmares?” Malcolm asks. “I’ve got a solution,” Six says, and everyone looks in her direction. She takes a considering sip from a mug of coffee. “Let’s go kill Setrákus Ra.” Nine claps his hands and points at Six. “I like the way this chick thinks.

Why?” breathed Boy 412. “Why me?” “You have astonishing Magykal power. I told you before. Maybe now you’ll believe me.” She smiled. “I—I thought the power came from the ring.” “No. It comes from you. Don’t forget, the Dragon Boat recognized you even without the ring. She knew. Remember, it was last worn by Hotep-Ra, the first ExtraOrdinary Wizard. It’s been waiting a long time to find someone like him.” “But that’s because it’s been stuck in a secret tunnel for hundreds of years.” “Not necessarily,” said Marcia mysteriously. “Things have a habit of working out, you know. Eventually.

Mee-Hae Ra isn’t a monk; she’s never been one.

Selfishly, perhaps, Catti-brie had determined that the assassin was her own business. He had unnerved her, had stripped away years of training and discipline and reduced her to the quivering semblance of a frightened child. But she was a young woman now, no more a girl. She had to personally respond to that emotional humiliation, or the scars from it would haunt her to her grave, forever paralyzing her along her path to discover her true potential in life.

How do we know that’s really John?’ she asks. ‘Setrákus Ra can change forms. This might be some kind of trap.’ In my excitement to hear John and Sam, I hadn’t even considered the possibility that this could be a ploy. Behind me, Nine shouts towards the communicator. ‘Hey, Johnny, remember back in Chicago? When you were claiming to be Pittacus Lore and we had a debate about whether to go to New Mexico?’ ‘Yeah,’ John’s voice sounds like it’s coming through clenched teeth. ‘How’d we settle that?’ John sighs. ‘You dangled me off the edge of the roof.’ Nine grins like that’s the best thing ever. ‘It’s definitely him.

You don't have to speak. Words fade," she whispered. "I know that better than anyone. Words are forgotten; they are regretted.Unnecessary. I know.

What do you believe, Ra? I’ll believe whatever you say.” The Monk turns at her, his complete attention now at her eyes. Mee-Hae doesn’t reply for a long time. A High Grade’s words have weight; she must now think through what leaves her lips.

I must be very selfish, she thought, for I want to set nothing and no one right; all I want is to be left in peace to make what I can of this problem called life for myself and my children.

A sea-gull planed its way down to the water on curving, outstretched wings. The salt air blew coolly on her flushed cheeks, and she smiled to herself in her happiness.

What is it about your race that none of you can seem to properly weigh your own value? Every human seems to think more of herself than she should, or less of herself than is sensible!

Time to hunt?" Cattie-brie cried, satisfied that she had gotten her point across. She rose beside Wulfgar and headed for the door, but she turned her head over her shoulder to face Drizzt one final time, giving him a look that told him that perhaps he should have asked for more from Cattie-brie back in Icewind Dale, before Wulfgar had entered her life.

They say the first of my kind was Alasdair, a human raised by hawks. She learned the languages of birds and was gifted with their form.

A 50/50 man is a roommate. You can be single and have a roommate.

She is both hellfire and holy water, And the flavour you taste depends on How you treat her.

You’re awake.” I hold my breath when I hear Brantley’s scratchy just-waking-up voice. How is it that even that’s sexy? My morning voice sounds like an eighty year old woman who’s smoked a pack a day since she was two.

You talked about some stones you found a while ago,” he says. “Three years.” Mee-Hae quickly turns around to face him, holding her unwashed panties. From this close, they smell prominently feminine to the Monk’s highly evolved nose. Mee-Hae Ra throws them with her faultless aim to a basket twenty feet away; she’ll have to wash them in the river later. “Your a while ago is actually three years,” she says. “You didn’t pay attention then. I wonder what happened? You even brought the rarest tea on the planet!” She throws a piercing gaze at him. Her pouty lips make her look angry. Abandoning her cleaning, she approaches the balcony, holding the tea package. “It looks hand-procured,” she mutters. “By any chance, did you pluck it yourself?” She looks at the Monk and already gets the answer that a modest monk won’t provide.

They live with the belief that anything is acceptable if you can get away with it, that self-gratification is the most important aspect of existence, and that power comes only to she or he who is strong enough and cunning enough to snatch it from the failing hands of those who no longer deserve it. Compassion has no place in Menzoberranzan, and yet it is compassion, not fear, that brings harmony to most races. It is harmony, working toward shared goals, that precedes greatness.

Smack! A large snowball hit the side of the garage. Evelyn heaved another one, which curved, hitting Ryan who was just coming out of the house. "Hmm, a little off there," he commented, bending down. Before she could react, he threw a snowball at her.

She's one you *really* care about, isn't she?" Eliot shook his head. "How can you read other people so well, and completely misread me?" Frowning, Sophie asked, "What do you mean?" Looking right into her eyes, Eliot said, "I care about *all* of them.

I think Binky has latched onto you because your emotional level is equal to his intellectual level.” said Melanie. Friday frowned. “I’m not sure that is a compliment. “Yes, it is.” said Ian. “She’s saying that between you, you and Binky make a well-rounded six-year-old.” “Thanks, Ian,” said Binky with a watery smile, “I don’t understand half the things you say, but I’m glad to have a friend like you.

Friday looked up. She bit her lip. She didn’t want to say anything. She didn’t think she could without crying. But she had to say something. “Let’s make a pledge,” she finally blurted, “Four years from now, when we both finish school, we’ll meet right here.” “In the airport terminal?” asked Ian, looking about. It wasn’t a very glamorous location. “To do what?” “I don’t know…” said Friday, “Have an adventure?” “What sort of adventure,” asked Ian, smiling. “A mystery, of course,” said Friday.

Even though it was hard, she overcame her adversity and used it to help others empower themselves. And if that's not a lesson we can apply to life, I'm not sure what is.

She had a sexy athletic build, short brown hair, and a cute button nose.

I don't want to interfere with my children's lives any more than you do, but I want them to be happy. Must growing up always mean a breaking up?" she asked sadly. "No, but it often means a breaking away," the captain said. "And you wouldn't want them to stay anchored for the rest of their existence, growing barnacles all over them and rotting away with rust.

do you love her" Wulfgar asked suddenly, and the drow was off his guard. "Of course I do," Drizzt responded truthfully. "As I love you, and Bruenor, and Regis." "I would not interfere-" Wulfgar started to say, but he was stopped by Drizzt's chuckle. "The choice is neither mine nor yours," the drow explained, "but Catti-brie's. Remember, what you had, my friend, and remember what you, in your foolishness, nearly lost." Wulfgar looked long and hard at his dear friend, determined to heed that wise advice. Catti-brie's life was Catti-brie's to decide and whatever, or whomever, she chose, Wulfgar would always be among friends. The winter would be long and cold, thick with snow and mercifully uneventful. Things would not be the same between the friends, could never be after all they had experienced, but they would be together again, in heart and in soul. Let no man, and no fiend, ever try to separate them again!

I have committed many sins and acts of disobedience, if I decide to turn to God, would he turn to me?" She answered "No, only if He were to turn to you, then you would be able to turn to Him.

I think,” Favian said after a beat, “that you are perfectly capable of being your own protector. But I fully intend to be the person who proves to you that you are deserving of protection.” She

Catti-brie continued to stare at the drow as the wizards walked up. The woman did not know what to make of Drizzt's cryptic answers. Drizzt had let Tarnheel win, she figured, or at least had allowed the man to fight to a draw. For some reason the young woman did not understand, she didn't want to think that Tarnheel had actually beaten Drizzt; she didn't want to think that anyone could beat Drizzt.

I kill the living to make way for the dead. But we had hot chocolate, she and I. We tried to make our friendship last as long as we could. Then I was forced to let her go. I held her when she returned to the earth.

If a God, any God, is deemed to represent the Universal & divine truth, then once one finds & truly embraces that truth, he/she becomes in harmony with God. To hold it any other way is to attribute to supposed Gods petty failings like jealousy & bittermess. If that is the case, then why would I hold forth a name embodying that which is in my heart when doing so would only reduce a truth I call divine to a level of mortal frailty?

But if Red had followed convention, she wouldn't be where she's is today. Not only did Red stop the Wolf, but she also grew stronger and more powerful than anyone could imagine. Today, she is one of the most sought after huntresses in the Hollow Woods.

He's not wanting to fight," she assured the captain. "He is driven by curiosity?" Deudermont asked. "By loyalty," Catti-brie answered. "And nothing more. Drizzt is bound by friendship to ye and to the crew, and if a simple contest against the man will make for an easier sail, then he's up to the fight. But there is no curiosity in Drizzt. No stupid pride. He's not for caring who's the better at swordplay." Deudermont nodded and his expression brightened. The young woman's words confirmed his belief in his friend.

Friday grabbed a hold of him and kissed him. It was a really good kiss. She was getting the hang of kissing. When she let go, Ian looked a little bewildered. ‘I just want you to know,’ said Friday, ‘I really hate you.’ ‘I know,’ said Ian. Then he kissed her back.

It is suggested that Ra will “eat of his daughter.” Here, as elsewhere, it is indicated that Ra actually feeds on her substance.7 Maat, then, is a goddess whose existence would appear to consist of a perpetual giving of her substance in order that the divine powers can continue to function in an orderly and harmonious way. She is literally the bread by which Ra lives,8 and so by implication she is the food of all the gods, who are but the limbs of Ra. What better substance than truth could there be for the gods to feed on?

What? You haven’t named your wahoo?” “No.” She giggles again. “ Well, maybe you should. Start calling your bat-cave She-Ra Princess of Power and you’ll jumpstart that motor of yours in record speed. Or maybe Hello Kitty? Delilah? Jaws? Any of those speak to you?

This,’ said Ian. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Friday’s brain went completely empty. There were too many emotions and physical sensations to process at once. She felt off-balance. Friday reached out and clutched Ian’s shirt to make sure she stayed upright.

Love. You can learn all the math in the ’verse, but you take a boat in the air you don’t love, she’ll shake you off just as sure as the turning of worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she oughtta fall down, tells you she’s hurting ’fore she keens. Makes her a home.

Look at me," she sobbed. "Tell me ye feel the same!" Drizzt did look at Catti-brie, as deeply as he had ever studied the beautiful young woman. He did care for her - of course he did. He did love her, and had even allowed himself a fantasy or two about this very situation.

Lolth holds the motivations of an infection, a disease, not a goddess. She does not guide. Rather, she afflicts. She yearns to find that within each of us that is chaos and unleash it, and she will take whatever path she sees most clearly to inflict her glorious catastrophes.

Betia laughed a little, shaking her head. She leaned forward and kissed my cheek as she grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet. Her brown eyes glittered with a devil-may-care recklessness that warmed me to my toes. If it would make her smile that way, I would dance all night.

They live with the belief that anything is acceptable if you can get away with it, that self-gratification is the most important aspect of existence, and that power comes only to she or he who is strong enough and cunning enough to snatch it from the failing hands of those who no longer deserve

He saw tears rimming her blue eyes, tears that washed away Drizzt's anger, that told him that what had happened between himself and Catti-brie had apparently not been so deeply buried. The last time they had met, on this very spot, they had hidden the questions they both wanted to ask behind the energy of a sparring match. Catti-brie's concentration had to be complete on that occasion, and in the days before it, as she had fought to master her sword, but now that task was completed. Now, like Drizzt, she had time to think, and in that time, Catti-brie had remembered. "Ye're knowing it was the sword?" she asked, almost pleaded. Drizzt smiled, trying to comfort her. Of course it had been the sentient sword that had inspired her to throw herself at him. Fully the sword, only the sword. But a large part of Drizzt - and possibly of Catti-brie, he thought in looking at her - wished differently. There had been an undeniable tension between them for some time, a complicated situation, and even more so now, after the possession incident with Khazid'hea.

Explaining things is the heart and soul of science!

You dropped everything as soon you saw me headed here…and now you won’t give me the time of the day?” “Get out of my way, Catra. I don’t have time for this.” “Then make time.

Don’t you worry. I’ve got you.” “I was fine.” “I know. But I’ve still got you.

Disappearing Into The Sun The wet-nurse of al-Ghawth al-A’zam (r.a) states that when he was a child, she would carry him in her arms but would suddenly find that he was no longer there. She reports that she noticed that he used to fly into the sky and hide behind the rays of the sun. Once, when Sheikh Abdul Qadir Jilani (r.a) was much older, the wet-nurse went to him and asked if he still did as he used to do when he was a child, in other words, hide behind the sun. Sheikh Abdul Qadir Jilani (r.a) replied, “Then I was a child, and it was a time of weakness, and I used to hide in the rays of the sun. Now my strength and power is so immense, that if a thousand suns have to come then they would all be hidden in me rather than me being hidden by them

Drizzt looked long and hard at the young woman, tje dedicated warrior, and he understood that Danica, too, had been forced into a great sacrifice because of Cadderly's choice. He sensed an anger within her, but it was buried deep. overwhelmed by her love for this man and her admiration for his sacrifice. Catti-brie didn't miss any of it. She, who had lost her love, surely empathized with Danica, and yet, she knew that the woman was undeserving of any sympathy. In those few sentences of explanation, in the presence of Cadderly and of Danica, and within the halls of this most reverent of structures, Catti-broe understood that to give sympathy to Danica would belittle the sacrifice, would diminish what Cadderly had accomplished in exchange for his years.

I showed her the essay he'd marked. It was practically dipped in red ink. Jenna made a sympathetic face, then took a closer look. She rolled her eyes. "Well, no wonder. Helios-Ra don't wear spandex tights and capes. We're not superheroes." "But you kind of think you are." I winked. "I just wrote that to see if he was paying attention." "You wrote it because you're a brat," he muttered. I beamed at him. "Now you sound like one of the Drake brothers.

I’ve had several seriously sexual daydreams about the new guy. Have you seen him?” “Cin, I didn’t need to know that.” I jammed my math book into my backpack and slammed the locker door. Cindy rested her petite frame against the locker next to mine. Her radiant baby blues twinkled. “No, I haven’t seen him. Apparently he’s . . . cute?” I asked. She snorted. “Cute? No! He isn’t a kitten. He’s hot, sexier than hell, and has a voice that could melt chocolate.

To become a drider again was the worst torture she could imagine. Every day, every movement, was pain. No thought independent of the eternal shackles—a mere notion of turning against any drow loyal to Lolth would send wracking agony through a drider. There was no free will, no beauty, no hope, no cessation of the mental anguish and torment. It was a curse that did not lessen with time, a curse against which neither the mind nor the body could numb itself.

Might I ask, what, ah, temple you belong to?” “Hathor,” Siti answered. “But I’m more partial to Sekhmet.” “Sekhmet. In theological alchemy we studied ancient and Hellenistic Egypt. If I recall, she’s a goddess of battle?” “The Eye of Ra. When humankind sought to overthrow Ra, his daughter Hathor didn’t take too kindly. In her anger, she became Sekhmet—the fiery lioness. Then broke some things.” Hadia frowned. “Didn’t she almost wipe out the world?” “The goddess really gets into her work.

When Dotty learned of Keen’s advent she was desolate, but in her own fashion. Dotty’s emotions were in rational balance and larded with enough humor to keep them from sticking to the pan. The insistence that humor is the core of the soul, even in the middle of trial and tragedy, stayed with Dotty through all the months that followed, which were filled with shock after shock. She tried to fight back with prayer, patience, exposition, common sense, murder, flight, but also with humor. Always with humor.

Drizzt had come to believe that these goblinkin races were not evil by nature, as the drow were not, but were bent to such acts and practices by the influence of powerful godlike forces, as were so many of the races of Toril. But no, Mielikki had denied such a theory to Catti-brie. His wife knew that drow were not evil creatures by nature, of course. She had married Drizzt, after all, and he knew with confidence that she loved him with all of her heart and soul. So how could she hold such a prejudice? No, that idea was impossible.

Dad walked by my room and reeled back fo ra better look at Jayden on my bed. "What is going on?" "Early morning tutoring session, Dad." He didn't look appeased, but before he could say anything, Mom glanced in. "It's just Jayden," she said and kept walking down the hall. "In our daughter's bed? Half naked!" "But it's Jayden," Mom said. "It doesn't count." "Thank you, Mrs. Lahey," Jayden said. "I appreciate your vote of confidence in my lack of coitus with your daughter." Dad's face went slack. "Oh my God." A&E Kirk, Demons in Disguise

When June Tyson repeatedly intones, “It's after the end of the world…. Don't you know that yet?” at the beginning of the Sun Ra Arkestra's 1974 film Space Is the Place, she directs our attention to the very real likelihood that another world might not only be possible but that this universe may already be here in the NOW.21 The only question that remains: do we have the tools required to apprehend other worlds such as the one prophesied by June Tyson and Sun Ra, or will we remain infinitely detained by the magical powers of Man's juridical assemblage as a result of having consumed too much of his treacly Kool-Aid?

Catti-brie had to believe that now, recalling the scene in light of the drow's words. She had to believe that her love for Wulfgar had been real, very real, and not misplaced, that he was all she had thought him to be. Now she could. For the first time since Wulfgar's death, Cattie-brie could remember him without pangs of guilt, without the fears that, had he lived, she would not have married him. Because Drizzt was right; Wulfgar would have admitted the error despite his pride, and he would have grown, as he always had before. That was the finest quality of the man, an almost childlike quality, that viewed the world and his own life as getting better, as moving toward a better way in a better place. What followed was the most sincere smile on Cattie-brie's face in many, many months. She felt suddenly free, suddenly complete with her past, reconciled and able to move forward with her life. She looked at the drow, wide-eyed, with a curiosity that seemed to surprise Drizzt. She could go on, but what exactly did that mean? Slowly, Cattie-brie began shaking her head, and Drizzt came to understand that the movement had something to do with him. He lifted a slender hand and brushed some stray hair back from her cheek, his ebony skin contrasting starkly with her light skin, even in the quiet light of night. "I do love you," the drow admitted. The blunt statement did not catch Catti-brie by surprise, not at all. "As you love me," Drizzt went on, easily, confident that his words were on the mark. "And I, too, must look ahead now, must find my place among my friends, beside you, without Wulfgar." "Perhaps in the future," Catti-brie said, her voice barely a whisper. "Perhaps," Drizzt agreed. "But for now..." "Friends," Catti-brie finished. Drizzt moved his hand back from her cheek, held it in the air before her face, and she reached up and clasped it firmly. Friends

Zia gasped, her face beading with sweat. “When the people needed to stop Sekhmet, they got huge vats of beer and colored them bright red with pomegranate juice.” “Yeah, I remember now,” I interrupted. “They told Sekhmet it was blood, and she drank until she passed out. Then Ra was able to recall her into the heavens. They transformed her into something gentler. A cow goddess or something.” “Hathor,” Zia said. “That is Sekhmet’s other form. The flip side of her personality.” Sadie shook her head in disbelief. “So you’re saying we offer to buy Sekhmet a few pints, and she’ll turn into a cow.” “Not exactly,” Zia said. “But salsa is red, is it not?

Catti-brie didn't blink, barely drew breath. She was thinking how noble this drow had been. So many other men would not have asked questions, would have taken advantage of the situation. And would that have been such a bad thing? the young woman had to ask herself now. Her feelings for Drizzt were deep and real, a bond of friendship and love. Would it have been such a bad thing if he had made love to her in that room? Yes, she decided, for both of them, because, while it was her body that had been offered, it was Khazid'hea that was in control. Things were awkward enough between them now, but if Drizzt had relented to the feelings that Catti-brie knew he held for her, if he had not been so noble in that strange situation and had given in to the offered temptation, likely neither of them would have been able to look the other in the eye afterward. Like they were doing now, on a quiet plateau high in the mountains, with a chill and crisp breeze and the stars glowing even more brightly above them. "Ye're a good man, Drizzt Do'Urden," the grateful woman said with a heartfelt smile. "Hardly a man," Drizzt replied, chuckling, and glad for the relief of the tension. Only a temporary relief, though. The chuckle and the smile died away almost immediately, leaving them in the same place, the same awkward moment, caught somewhere between romance and fear.

One day I was watching the cartoon She-Ra, and the episode that was on was called ‘She-Ra and the Mighty Rebellions.’ At that time, the gang was already formed and was on the move. We were already getting involved in territory fights. This was when the Syndicates was out [the Syndicates was the first street gang ever to be established in The Bahamas; however, they were put out of business by the Rebellions]. One day we were on the wall, and guys were throwing out different names. I told them that the best name for this gang would be the Rebellions. To this day, I’m sorry I ever came up with that name, because I’m getting tired of seeing that name on the walls throughout Nassau. Anthony ‘Ada’ Allen, one of the former leaders and founders of the Rebellion Raiders street gang.

For example, many a woman is praying for the conversion of her husband. That certainly is a most proper thing to ask; but many a woman's motive in asking for the conversion of her husband is entirely improper, it is selfish. She desires that her husband may be converted because it would be so much more pleasant for her to have a husband who sympathized with her; or it is so painful to think that her husband might die and be lost forever. For some such selfish reason as this she desires to have her husband converted. The prayer is purely selfish. Why should a woman desire the conversion of her husband? First of all and above all, that God may be glorified; because she cannot bear the thought that God the Father should be dishonored by her husband trampling underfoot the Son of God.

I grab Bertha the Boar's attention by yelling and waving my mighty spear. Ok, maybe I insult her mighty porcine heritage too. Regardless, she comes into range of my [Darkvision] in full charge mode. I’d practiced dodging this move with Rex and Keans a couple days ago just so I wouldn’t get murdered by the boar. Just like with the [Charge] attack of the horned rabbit, I position myself in front of a solid wall and dodge the boar’s special move at the last second, causing the creature to slam into the wall and stun itself. I know the stun will only last a short time so I already have Vrax ready to [Backstab] the boar the moment it hits the wall. Vrax does considerable damage in just a few seconds with his [Backstab] ability and his new short sword.   There’s a lesson folks. Never underestimate the little guy.   Once

The ideology of kingship required—demanded—a male ruler. Yet Hatshepsut, as her very name announced, was female. Her response to this conundrum was deeply schizophrenic. On some monuments, especially those dating from the time before her accession, she had the images recarved to show her as a man. On others, she had female epithets applied to male monarchs of the past, in an apparent attempt to “feminize” her ancestors. Even when portrayed as a man, Hatshepsut often used grammatically feminine epithets, describing herself as the daughter (rather than son) of Ra, or the lady (rather than lord) of the Two Lands. The tension between male office and female officeholder was never satisfactorily resolved. Little wonder that Hatshepsut’s advisers came up with a new circumlocution for the monarch. From now on, the term for the palace, per-aa (literally “great house”), was applied also to its chief inhabitant. Peraa—pharaoh—now became the unique designation of the Egyptian ruler.

Pa, you don't have to give up your room," Willow protested. "I know, I know, but there ain't nuff space in your room for the two of you together. 'Sides, my bed is bigger and . . . Well, you know." Willow silently nodded her head, and Rider shook his father-in-law's hand. "Thanks, Mr. Vaughn. It won't be for long. We hope to be in our place before winter sets in." "Gee, Pa, what we gonna do without Willie here to do for us?" Andy asked. "Don't rightly know, son, but I reckon we'll get along somehow." A mischievous glow came to Willow's eyes. "One of you could always get married," she suggested innocently. A collective round of groans and protests circled the table. Rider draped his arm around her shoulders, a prideful, male grin on his face. "Being married isn't so bad, boys," he said. "It's kind of convenient having your woman handy, whenever you get ra--" Willow slugged his arm. The brothers broke into wild laughter. Owen guffawed at his son-in-law. "You just might fit into this here family after all, son!

It struck Drizzt as a simple truth, a plain reminder of how unknown the world about him really was, even to those, like Deudermont, who had spent the bulk of their lives on the sea. This watery world, and the great creatures that inhabited it, moved to rhythms that he could never truly understand. That realization, along with the fact that the horizon from every angle was nothing but flat water, reminded Drizzt of how small they really were, of how overwhelming nature could be. For all his training, for all his fine weapons, for all his warrior heart, the ranger was a tiny thing, a mere speck on a blue-green tapestry. Drizzt found that notion unsettling and comforting all at once. He was a small thing, an insignificant thing, a single swallow to the fish that had easily paced the Sea Sprite. And yet, he was a part of something much bigger, a single tile on a mosaic much huger than his imagination could even comprehend. He draped an arm comfortably across Catti-brie's shoulder, connected himself to the tile that complimented his own, and she leaned against him.

A bedraggled and thoroughly frustrated Catti-brie entered her chambers much later to find her husband dancing with their little girl. Or maybe they were training. Drizzt did a broad jump. Brie hopped, both feet off the ground. She touched down lightly and sprang again, and a third time, which put her up beside her father. “You,” Drizzt said. Brie laughed. She jumped up as high as she could and turned in midair. She got about a quarter of the way around before she ran out of air beneath her, thumping down and holding her balance. Drizzt leaped up gracefully and spun about, a full spin, landing and dropping into a squat that put his face right before that of his giggling daughter. “You!” she said. Up sprang Drizzt, executing a backflip that landed him on his feet, but only momentarily, as he plopped down on his butt before Brie with a surprised look on his face. Brie laughed and went up as if to jump, but didn’t leave the ground at all, and instead just fell back to a sitting position facing her father. The two broke out in laughter. “Boom!” said Drizzt. “Boo boo!” said Brie.

I looked to Rei, wondering if his vague answer to Betsy meant he might let me slip away downstairs, but A’isha had once again engaged him, hooking one of the many melos scarves she wore around his waist in an attempt to draw him into the dance. The crow looked at it with shock. A’isha plucked the scarf away with a flourish. “No need to be shy, little crow,” A’isha said. “If the gods didn’t want people to admire you, they wouldn’t have made you so stunning.” I got to see Rei flush for the first time, blood creeping into his tanned skin. A’isha flipped her scarf around his neck. “One dance,” A’isha implored. “I’m sure Zane would go elsewhere; you would be performing only for the nest.” “I’m sure Zane would,” Rei said dryly, glancing at me. I shrugged. “What is your lady friend going to think, if she hears you are learning to dance but are ashamed to perform?” A’isha goaded the crow. “One dance,” Rei said, relenting. “And only because I know you’ll never forgive me if I don’t take my opportunity to make a public fool of myself.” He turned to me. “You get out of here and thank A’isha for giving me an excuse to leave you alone.” I would indeed.

Oh, ta ra,” Clarissa said lightly. “In retrospect I suppose it is all rather funny—though I doubt that Lydia would agree.” Adrian’s humor ended there, and he arched one eyebrow in displeasure, though she could not see it. “Forgive me for saying so, my lady, but your stepmother sounds to be a rather nasty old cow.” “Oh!” Clarissa said, dismayed. “Oh, you must not say that. Ever.” “Why not?” he asked with careless amusement. “I am not afraid of her.” “No, but…She would be furious. And she would not like you were she to hear you say such things about her.” “I could not care less if she likes me or not—,” Adrian began, but Clarissa cut him off. “Oh, but you must care. If she does not like you, then she will not allow me to dance with you anymore, and…and…I do quite like it,” she finished with some embarrassment. The look of scorn on Adrian’s face melted away at her confession, and his annoyance softened slightly. “Well, then, I shall have to be sure to treat her with the utmost respect.” He watched her pink, embarrassed face for a moment, then added, “Because I quite like dancing with you, too.” Clarissa turned to him and beamed brightly. -Clarissa & Adrian

Every hair metal band in the 1980s followed a very simple, yet effective marketing plan: first release an ear-shattering, head-banging metal song to bring in the guys, then follow it up with a sensitive power ballad to bring in the ladies. Well, in the world of He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, He-Man was the head-banging metal song and She-Ra was the power ballad

Rains is now clutching her chest, her face full of panic. What if some worthy prince sees Amber before me and is smitten? What if my future rule comes down to this moment, and I've already blown it? She begins to hyperventilate. I fan her with the wide sleeve of my dress. It's going to be fine.

I lock eyes with Sasha and know, somehow, that she's thinking the same thing I am; This doesn't feel like an illusion. This feels real.

Misfits?" Sasha gets out raged before I can even think of a response. "Unorthodox, yes. Lacking in fashion sense? Possibly. But that will change with a little help from Marta and myself. More importantly, Devin is an excellent roommate... friendly, kind, and the sort of Princess who wouldn't stab you in the back the first chance she gets. She's a way better choice than you." Whoa. Sasha is a force to be reckoned with.

Thank Ra she can’t sense my rage, or she would have left long ago. Not that she would have left for long. My ex-employees always return, albeit with a different arrangement of body parts.

Nanny Piggins was very prudish about gambling because the Ringmaster had once bet that if he tampered with the trajectory of her cannon, he could blast her over the top of the Eiffel Tower. Of course Nanny Piggins had triumphantly sailed over the famous French landmark, but she was very cross to pass the Jules Verne restaurant at the top and not be able to stop for a slice of cake. She had been against gambling ever since.

Just like the kurit, they wanted to hear her tales more than tell their own, and at first, it was quite uncomfortable for Catti-brie. She thought of her arguments with Drizzt, and felt rather awkward now with this clear evidence of orcs who were worthy of her respect and friendship. That epiphany led her to quiet and uncomfortable musing that followed her to sleep—questions about her goddess, about the actions of her life, about her perception of reality itself.

Drizzt had to pause on that. “I told you what was in my heart, and the name I had given it was Mielikki.” “Because she was the embodiment of your ethical beliefs,” Catti-brie replied. “Yes.” “But she is a living goddess, and so when she speaks in communion, are not those declarations commandments you must follow?” “No.” It actually surprised Drizzt how quickly the answer left his mouth, and the conviction behind the response. “I don’t know that I can call her a goddess, or the divine beings of Toril gods at all,” he said, speaking as much to clarify the thoughts in his own mind as in explanation

He has Penelope Harpell,” she reminded him. “Penelope?” Jarlaxle said and snickered. “She’s likely at the Ivy Mansion and is not about to be jealous in any case, I assure you.” “And if she’s not, and is in Gauntlgrym?” “She’d probably join you, if you had the mind for it,” Jarlaxle said with a great laugh. “And even if not in that way, we all would do well to spend more time with Penelope Harpell. Aye, but we’d all learn a lot from her, particularly in how to enjoy life more.” He paused, noting her expression, and added, “Yes, even Jarlaxle!

She laughed aloud. “Yes!” she admitted. “I miss the road. I miss the adventure. I miss the danger. Does that make sense? Does that make me a terrible parent?” “Haven’t we had this conversation the other way?” Drizzt said, laughing, too.

He watched Brie splashing in a small side pool while he filled his waterskins. He marveled at the simple joy in her eyes. He wanted to keep that joy of life itself there forever. More than anything, he wanted his daughter to grow up strong and clever and full of confidence, and full even more with happiness. He never wanted her to lose her delight at the simplest things: the sun-dappled earth, the splash of water over stones, the sounds of the forest about her, the shapes of the clouds. “What’s my name?” he called to her. “Drizzy daddy!” she enthusiastically called back.

You know my history with Dahlia,” Catti-brie protested. “You know Dahlia’s history with Drizzt.” “So do not ever forget it. But forgive it. That is what we do, is it not?” Catti-brie really didn’t have an answer for that. But it didn’t matter. “You have a deal,” she told Entreri.

Kill you?” Ilnezhara said with feigned horror. “Pretty drow, why would I ever wish such a thing as that? Oh no, I have plans for you, to be sure, but killing you isn’t in them.” She snuggled a bit closer as she spoke, and Jarlaxle grinned, seeming very pleased. “She’s a dragon!” Entreri said, and all three looked at him.

And the shadows went away, revealing Sos’Umptu as a drider! But she kept growing, and no, she was not a drider, for she was beautiful, not bloated in abomination. Too beautiful to look upon. Beautiful and terrible all at once, and huge, dwarfing the driders about her, bigger even than the jade spider constructs that had come in from the entry. And Yvonnel understood and knew she was doomed. “Behold!” the creature that had been Sos’Umptu demanded. “I am the avatar of Lolth. Kneel to me. Beg for my mercy.

Yvonnel shook her head, not sure if this creature before her was diabolical or rational at that moment. “It did not matter,” the avatar said to her. “Do you not understand? Your actions? The ‘truths’ you learned? They did not matter.” “Then what does matter?” “My pleasure. My chaos. My power. Me. Just me.” “Then what future?” “Who cares?” The avatar laughed at her, and it was sincere, she knew. “You care enough to bless the matrons,” she said. “Do I?” “You care enough to start wars—in the Silver Marches, in Gauntlgrym, in your own City of Spiders!” “The ultimate chaos. War.

A beautiful drow woman. Too beautiful. Painfully beautiful. It was not an emissary of Lolth, she knew. No, no. It was the image of Lolth herself, reaching out to her from the Abyss. Sos’Umptu fell to her knees, as did every other drow in the Fane of the Goddess. “Many of my handmaidens have come to Menzoberranzan, my city,” Lolth said. Sos’Umptu wanted to look upon her, but dared not lift her gaze. “They brought me here, to you, in full confidence that you would be an acceptable and accepting host.” “I pray you found me acceptable.” “Indeed, Sos’Umptu Baenre. Indeed. Rise now, I command. Look upon me. Let me see the love in your eyes.

She laughed even louder and that answer told Yvonnel the truth. Lolth wasn’t angry with her. Anger would imply that Lolth cared . “What am I to do with you?” the avatar said. “You will never have me, foul beast.” “I already have you.” “You will never have my heart.” “But I will have fun nonetheless.

The Second and Fourth Houses, at least, had come against her, and she didn’t doubt that more had joined as well. In Menzoberranzan, the typical assault meant that none could be left alive as witnesses. It was not forbidden for one house to attack another, as long as they didn’t get caught.

Kimmuriel informed them that to the illithids, Lolth was not a goddess at all. She was a manifestation of malevolence, an infection. Lolth was a bitter bit of a reasoning being promoting pride and envy, greed and power, but nothing more. She was a whispered internal lie coaxing the speaker and listener, one and the same, into a deepening gloom.

The truth is, you don’t know Menzoberranzan. Not even you, Jarlaxle, who has spent your life trying to figure it out. You cannot understand the hope that brought us to the great cavern those millennia removed. Yes, hope. It was not anger that brought us there, nor fear. It was hope. We fled a world of tyrant queens and insane kings, a place of unending war and injustice. We found a sanctuary, a deep cave, full of Faezress magic—though we did not understand that at the time—and easily defended. A sanctuary, I say, and indeed that is what the word ‘Menzoberranzan’ then meant in the ancient tongue of the drow. “A hundred families,” she continued. “Ten thousand dark elves. And each had a say in their family, and each family had a voice in the Plenum, and the largest families spoke those concerns in the Conclave, which you now—and only—know as the Ruling Council. We were not rulers then as much as servants, heeding the words of all the drow. And it was Lady Lolth that led us there, before she was called the Spider Queen.

Trust her, he reminded himself. Trust in her. Catti-brie was among the most resourceful and powerful individuals he had ever known. And she was with Jarlaxle, who befriended dragons and toyed with kings.

We do not know Lolth’s feelings for Drizzt Do’Urden,” Eskavine said. “Ever has she been coy about that particularly minor player in her grand game.

Even as she finished, Athrogate erupted in side-splitting laughter, and Amber began to giggle so ridiculously that she could hardly finish her song of two couples, a dwarf and his firbolg bride, and his sister and her firbolg husband, brother of her sister-in-law. "So the dwarf's got a sister who's smilin' so wide," she chanted, catching her wits when she saw that the other six were now looking her way. "And his own wife's not knowin' when her husband's inside.

understood that he had said that only for her benefit, and that made it all the more special. She didn’t resist anymore as Owen began to lead her along again, back to the humble abode of Cliegg Lars, her husband, Owen’s father. She had done the right thing concerning her son, Shmi told herself with every step. They had been slaves, with no prospects of finding their freedom other than the offer of the Jedi. How could she have kept Anakin here on Tatooine, when Jedi Knights were promising

He explained—again, surprising Catti-brie, as she hadn’t often gotten such discourse from Gromph: “My robes of the Hosttower are gray, reflecting my state of mind and my way of looking at the world. Such items as these are not simple implements. They are extensions of the being wearing them, an amplification of the wizard’s heart and soul.

In her connection with the Ascended Masters, Oracle Kaia Ra channels celestial blueprints with unerring accuracy. These divine guidelines form the heart of The Sophia Code movement. Guided by her oracle gifts and decades of dedicated practice, she unveils secrets of realms beyond, revealing insights that have long been hidden, providing fresh perspectives on age-old spiritual wisdom.

My daughter,” Catti-brie said. “She has decided not to answer to Brie any longer. We are to call her Breezy. In familial situations, at least, though I suspect it won’t be worth your—either of your—trouble to refuse.” “She is headstrong,” Penelope agreed. “Breezy?” Savahn paused and considered that for a bit, then nodded her approval.

He was trying to show her that he was still that hard-hearted and merciless grand wizard from Menzoberranzan, she recognized, and she thought it rather . . . Cute? Or pathetic? No matter, she realized. Gromph’s ego bristled at any thoughts of emotional softness.

But she is . . . a she!” Ravel replied. “As are you. The power here is yours to take and hold. Tsabrak has reached the limit of anything he could ever hope for, and still he remains beneath every matron of every house, every high priestess, even. Why would he stay in a society that forever makes of him a lesser class of drow simply because he is a man?” “His power and his luxury come from the order of the matriarchy,” Saribel explained. “To this level only.” “To this level he might not have achieved without the structures now in place in the city.