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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

Explaining things is the heart and soul of science!

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

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

You have heard of the old woman who lay dying. Her rector heard of it and called upon her. "They tell me," he said, "that you are dying." "Yes," she replied. "And have you made your peace with God?" "No," came the answer. "And are you not afraid to meet God without making your peace with Him?" "Not at all," was the answer and startled the minister. The minister grew earnest. "Woman, do you realize that you have but a short time to live and that you must soon meet a holy God?" "Yes, I realize it perfectly." "And you are not afraid?" "Not at all." "And you have not made your peace with God?" "No." "What do you mean?" cried the astonished rector. A smile passed over the features of the dying woman. "I have not made my peace with God because I do not need to. Christ made peace more than eighteen hundred years ago by the blood of His cross (Col. 1: 20), and I am simply resting in the peace he made.

True Love never needs the Expression of Words, It Speaks the Language Blessed by God and when it speaks, Only Miracles Happen.” REMEMBER: The best Expression of love is sending message for ““Nikah” (Marriage) to the guardians of the one you like or love, if you are true to someone and approaching him/her by choosing the “Sirat e Mustaqeem” (Guide us on the straight path) you will tell people that ““Nikah” (Marriage)” is miraculous. "LOVE" is not something that becomes your weakness; it's something that becomes your Strength by caring for you, keeping you on right track, like your parents love you truly, they sacrifice everything for you and want you to become a good human being in the society, to become a role model for the coming generations with great character, I understand no body is perfect, including me and it’s really hard to keep yourself on right track in this era but we must priorities the things, like becoming someone that can have a great life by recognizing the purpose of it , then making your parents proud by working on it, then it comes to the life partner when you are mature enough to take the right decision for that, then there is nothing wrong to like someone and considering him/her as your life partner if they choose the right way to approach each other, they involve their parents and guardians by taking permission, they don’t break the laws of nature, if anyone breaks the laws our Quran tells us “Women of purity are for men of purity, and men of purity are for women of purity” — Ayah 26 of Surah an-Nur mentions this wonderful line. People who are thinking that they can express love in words or in any way by breaking the spiritual, physical and emotional laws like marriage “Nikah” (Marriage), they are making fool of themselves. Once you are in that circle of breaking law, your series of actions becomes the source of sabotages for coming life, your spiritual, emotional and physical patterns are controlled by a gravitation pull of evil. Once you are impure then it’s hard to resist. Remember one thing love does exists in responsibilities of taking care of each-other's character, no matter how much someone is attractive to you, if he or she is expressing it to create physical desire before marriage, it leads you to the dark part. I would like to quote saying of Allama Iqbal (RA) at the end, "People who have no hold over their process of thinking are likely to be ruined by liberty of thought. If thought is immature, liberty of thought becomes a method of converting men into animals.

Yvonnel laughed yet again, only this time, she ended with a most heartfelt and primal scream. “You are toys!” she scolded. “All of you. You are pieces on a sava board, willingly walking from square to square.

She has found the truth of competition, that there is no better challenge to be found than one a person can make with herself, that the personal competition outweighs any other, and by great magnitude. Simply, the rise of a rival challenges each of us to do better and be better, and that is to be celebrated, not feared or prevented.

Catti-brie was, he feared, more powerful than she knew. That was often a dangerous thing.

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.

Have you ever considered seeing a psychiatrist?’ asked Mirabella, looking genuinely scared. Ian came over and studied Friday’s work. ‘I think Friday should be taken to the nurse,’ said Ian. ‘The knock to her head is more serious than we thought. If it’s made her capable of feeling human emotion, she may have suffered brain damage.

We’re plotting reformation of life as we know it,” I replied, somewhat flippantly. “Oh, is that all?” she teased. “Why not start with breakfast?

You made a good choice for your Naga,” she assured me. “Danica is more graceful on a dais than half the serpents I know.” “Provided she isn’t blushing too brightly to see,” another quipped. “The first time I saw our queen perform, I thought she was a lost cause--far too uptight, like most avians--but I’m glad to be proved wrong.” I knew I was grinning. I had never doubted that Danica could learn the serpent art. Much of her loved my world; a part of her craved dance as surely as anyone else in this nest did. Perhaps that thirst came from her time dancing with the currents of air far above where we earthbound creatures roamed, or perhaps it came from the expressive nature her own world forced her to hide. Similar conversation flowed among us until A’isha’s musical voice commanded me, “Zane, admire your queen.” The words brought our attention to the back of the room, where Danica had emerged, looking so beautiful that she took my breath away. In response to her teacher’s words, Danica smiled and shook her head, causing her golden hair to ripple about her face. It made my heart speed and my breath still, as if I was afraid the next movement would shatter the world. She was a spark of fire in sha’Mehay. The serpiente dress rippled around the hawk’s long legs, the fabric so light it moved with the slightest shift of air. The bodice was burgundy silk; it laced up the front with a black ribbon, and though it was more modest than many dancers’ costumes, it still revealed enough cream-and-roses skin to tantalize the imagination. On Danica’s right temple, A’isha had painted a symbol for courage; beneath her left collarbone lay the symbols for san’Anhamirak, abandon and freedom. “You dance every day with the wind. This is not so different,” A’isha said encouragingly to Danica. “Now, look at the man you love and dance for him.” The nest hushed, faces turning to their Naga. Her cheeks held more color than usual, which A’isha addressed with a common dancers’ proverb. “There is no place for shame, Danica. If Anhamirak had not wanted beauty admired, she would not have made our eyes desire it. You are art.” Danica stepped out of A’isha’s grip. “If my mother could see me now,” she murmured, but she smiled as she said it.

You made a good choice for your Naga,” she assured me. “Danica is more graceful on a dais than half the serpents I know.” “Provided she isn’t blushing too brightly to see,” another quipped. “The first time I saw our queen perform, I thought she was a lost cause--far too uptight, like most avians--but I’m glad to be proved wrong.” I knew I was grinning. I had never doubted that Danica could learn the serpent art. Much of her loved my world; a part of her craved dance as surely as anyone else in this nest did. Perhaps that thirst came from her time dancing with the currents of air far above where we earthbound creatures roamed, or perhaps it came from the expressive nature her own world forced her to hide. Similar conversation flowed among us until A’isha’s musical voice commanded me, “Zane, admire your queen.

You dance every day with the wind. This is not so different,” A’isha said encouragingly to Danica. “Now, look at the man you love and dance for him.” The nest hushed, faces turning to their Naga. Her cheeks held more color than usual, which A’isha addressed with a common dancers’ proverb. “There is no place for shame, Danica. If Anhamirak had not wanted beauty admired, she would not have made our eyes desire it. You are art.” Danica stepped out of A’isha’s grip. “If my mother could see me now,” she murmured, but she smiled as she said it. “Feel the beat. It is the wind,” A’isha directed. “Fly with it.

Feel the beat. It is the wind,” A’isha directed. “Fly with it.” The soft beat of a drum, paired with the lilting melody of a flute, filled the room as Danica stepped onto the dais at the back of the nest. Closing her eyes, Danica stretched upward, moving onto the balls of her feet, wrists crossed high above her head, and paused there for a heartbeat. The pose was known as a prayer--a dancer’s call for guidance from the powers that be. She moved into the dance flawlessly, the sway of her body as fluid as water over stone. This was the magic of the serpent and the snake charmer combined, as pure and intense as a thunderstorm. The first dance was soft and gentle, a common sakkri’nira. I could feel the drive in the music, however, and knew the moment when the first dance would move into a more complex one. When the flute stilled, Danica rose once again onto the balls of her feet for an instant. She smiled at me before she began the most complex of the intre’marl: Maeve’s solo from the Namir-da. What had been praise and beauty became passion. Maeve’s dance was a seduction, and the way Danica held my eyes made me feel it. Seeing my mate perform those steps made me want to join her, as any royal-born serpiente would. The holiday for which the Namir-da had been named was still four months away; she would be able to perform then, and I with her, in a ritual that dated back to the creation of my kind.

I’ll…be okay,” Danica asserted. “I was just…dizzy.” She accepted held standing, but once she was up, her balance seemed to return quickly; she rested one hand on my arm, though I sensed that touch was more from habit than weakness. A’isha looked from one of us to the other, and her expression slid from worried to startled to amused. “Little hawk, you’ve never been faint before,” the dancer said. “It’s hot in here, and I’ve been tired and nervous,” Danica argued. “Perhaps this was too much.” She tucked her head down, suddenly realizing that she had fainted in front of an audience. “Bring her to rest, Zane,” A’isha ordered, apparently not daunted by the fact that she was addressing her king. Inside the nest, no one ever was. “I hear your sister’s mate makes an excellent raspberry-ginger tea. I suggest you get the recipe. Now off with you.” A’isha’s hinted meaning suddenly dawned on me, and I could not help pulling Danica against me to kiss her. “Is she right?” I asked, my mind tumbling with too many thoughts to put into words. “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Danica responded, leaning against me. “I hate raspberry tea.” I tried not to laugh; Danica’s innocence asserted itself at odd moments, and right now nothing could keep me from grinning. “Danica, Danica…

I don’t know much about your kind, but I know that a snake’s egg will grow too quickly and die if they’re too hot. Your palace doctor has confirmed that your young are the same way. That being so, imagine a serpiente child growing in an avian womb; it would never survive.” Without waiting for me to acknowledge whether I understood, she concluded, “Apparently you’re both human enough to breed together. Your mate’s body is adapting itself to take care of your child. She will be weak for a while, but otherwise she appears healthy. You may see her in a couple of days.” “Days?” “I’ve been a doctor since before you were born, and that gives me the right to be blunt,” Betsy said. “She needs a few days without excitement while her system is getting used to the changes. Having you in her bedroom is not going to help her rest.” Again I grudgingly accepted the doctor’s orders, though I hoped that Danica would argue once she woke. “Andreios, you’ll make sure he does as he’s told?” Betsy appealed to the crow. Rei answered immediately, “You know I would never let anyone do anything that would endanger my queen.” Betsy frowned. “You’ve spent too much time with serpents for me to trust that means you’ll obey my orders,” she said. “I’ll wash my hands of it until she has the sense to return to the Keep. Just make sure she is allowed to rest. I will stay in serpiente lands until she is well enough to travel, in case complications arise. Zane, your associates assured me a room in the palace.” I nodded. “Of course.” I wasn’t overly fond of the doctor right then, but that wasn’t really her fault. Avians, and their fixation on decorum and respectability, sent me to the brink of insanity almost daily.

I don’t think we can deal with this immediately.” I looked at Danica as I spoke, searching her expression for agreement or argument. “Valene, the dancers have already welcomed Danica and our child. If they can circulate the knowledge that I will name Danica’s child my heir, I can only hope it won’t be as much of a shock when the announcement is made.” Even as I spoke, I felt the cold knot of fear in my gut. Our child would be born in peace, but would she live in war? “Besides that, we’ll have to wait until the protests are raised specifically.” “Not meaning to be troublesome,” Ailbhe answered, “but how absurd is the idea that Salem could be Diente?” The white viper’s words were answered by a roomful of glares, but he stood his ground. “What I mean to ask is, what is your ultimate goal? Salem will be raised without hatred for Danica’s people. He’ll have no hunger for war, and what’s more, he’ll have a civilization at peace to begin with. If peace is your goal, your sister’s child will still make a fine Diente.” “And what of our child?” Danica spoke in her calm and detached court voice, which she used among serpents only when she was too angry or disgusted to maintain rationality any other way. My hand found hers, and she gripped it tightly. “Your child may well be born as purely avian as you are. If it takes an avian mate, its children will probably show little of the Cobriana blood. Again, if your goal is just peace, the child could be raised avian--raised to be Tuuli Thea. Each court would have its heir, an heir raised without bloodlust and hatred. You would have peace.” For a moment I could not speak. So long as I had breath in my body, I would see my child on the serpiente throne. Diente, Tuuli Thea--our child would be both. “Are you mad?” The words escaped me as I locked eyes with Ailbhe. “How could you consider--” “Zane.” Danica interrupted me, placing a hand on my chest. “You can’t be thinking--” “Would you rather set up our child for war from the instant it’s born? If the serpiente reject our child for their throne, then you still have Salem as your heir. If my people reject it, there will be no Tuuli Thea after me.

Would you rather set up our child for war from the instant it’s born? If the serpiente reject our child for their throne, then you still have Salem as your heir. If my people reject it, there will be no Tuuli Thea after me.” I stepped back from her, horror seeping into my blood. My gaze flickered to the others in the room. Ailbhe’s pale blue eyes would not meet mine. Rei’s did, but then he looked away. Valene was watching Danica, her expression unreadable. My mate was the only one who would meet my gaze, her golden eyes pained. “Out,” I said, speaking to our audience. They looked at one another, hesitating. Valene first deferred, followed by Rei. Ailbhe lingered a moment longer, and I was not sure whether he did from guilt or compassion. Then we were alone, and I took Danica’s hands. “Danica, do you know what you are asking of me? Giving up my child to the Keep, to be raised by strangers, to sleep in lonely silence, to be taught to be ashamed of what she feels and what she is…and to be betrothed before she can even speak, before she can possibly understand love.” Danica closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath. “I will never have a mate but you. I love you. And yes, I will have an heir. But you are talking about taking away my child.” “What else can we do?” she returned. “Zane, I was raised in the Keep; it is not as horrible as you think. And you would still see her--” She broke off, because she knew as well as I that the heir to the Tuuli Thea saw her parents only in formal situations. She shook her head. “Please…Zane, is there another way? Anything else that will keep our firstborn child from coming into the world only to see her land ripped apart by war?” Silence. “It will be months before the child is born,” I whispered, pleading not only with Danica, but with whatever powers might be. “We don’t have to make this decision, not yet.” Danica nodded, but still she said, “One queen cannot rule two worlds, even if she is of both.

Do you feel well enough to travel back to the Keep today?” “We need to,” she answered, but despite her tired tone, she was smiling. “We can postpone the trip if you’re not feeling up to it. You and our child’s health are more important than indulging Nacola.” Or Syfka, I thought. She could speak to the rest of the Royal Flight when Danica was ready. “Don’t worry; I feel fine,” Danica assured me. With wide-eyed innocence, she added, “I know how much it would disappoint you not to see my mother.

Excuse me.” The cold voice behind us made me cringe for reasons that had nothing to do with falcons or Rei’s abdication. Danica turned with a smile, and I struggled to do the same. Despite how well the recent months had gone, Nacola Shardae still refused to believe that a serpiente man could possibly be the right mate for her only daughter. Because of that, she hated me as only a mother could.

Nacola Shardae, damn her feathers, was a true queen. In that single little speech, she managed to hit every vulnerability and fear Danica and I had regarding this child.

We will do what is necessary to assure our child’s prosperity.” The statement hurt as I recalled my conversation with Irene. “We have some time before the decision must be made. If we can find no way to raise the child so both our kinds will accept her…then she will be raised to be Tuuli Thea, and I will name Salem my heir until--” Until another child is born, I had been about to say, but there would be no other child. Danica wrapped an arm around my waist and gave me a half hug, despite how scandalized her mother would be by the contact. Nacola nodded, and for the first time, I saw a glimmer of respect in her eyes. “We will decide what we must, when we must.” Danica’s soft voice cut through the silence. “I hope you will trust us to do what is best. For the moment,” she said, changing the subject deftly as her tone lightened, “my most pressing concern is that this has been a long and difficult morning, and I’ve yet to have breakfast. Perhaps you might join me?” One thing was true in both our cultures: When a woman carrying a child said she was hungry, people listened. Danica had no shame in ruthlessly using that fact to disengage us from her mother’s interrogation.

How is your lady love faring in all this?” His expression shifted, betraying the smile of one happily besotted despite the circumstances. “I think she is as stunned as everyone else, but she is a very strong, capable woman.” I couldn’t resist the urge to tease a little. “Strong and capable? Flattering descriptions, but hardly warm enough to merit the soft look in your eyes.” “She isn’t a serpent, who wears her passions like jewelry and dances barefoot in the morning,” Gerard answered. “She is an avian lady, serene and composed even when she is upset. Strong, and capable.” More softly, he added, “She guards her heart and soul tightly unless she is around those she most trusts…so every little glimpse she allows me is like the silver moon rising over the sea.” “A’le-Ahnleh,” I responded with newfound respect. “My best wishes to you both.

The avian court follows the Tuuli Thea. They would be hesitant to bring their families so close to the serpiente, at least at first, but hopefully future generations won’t be as frightened. And if we let it be known that we will raise our child there, I think that plenty of avian scholars would be willing to go, if only in hopes of ‘protecting’ the queen’s heir. Then of course there may be those who simply wish to curry favor with their monarch, even if it means supporting what they will doubtless see as another mad scheme by their Tuuli Thea.” “Another?” “Of course,” she answered sweetly. “You may recall the last one, since it involved announcing you as my alistair.

I have an excuse to be up at this mad hour.” Irene yawned as we located her in Salem’s nursery. “Why are you looking so bright-eyed?” As she spoke, she rocked Salem in her arms. The babe kept shifting from boy to cobra, trying to wriggle out of her grip, then turning back to human form to pout when she wouldn’t let him. “We’re plotting reformation of life as we know it,” I replied, somewhat flippantly. “Oh, is that all?” she teased. “Why not start with breakfast?” “Thank you, but no,” I answered. “Danica and I actually wanted your feedback on an idea we had.” Quickly, we detailed the conception of Wyvern’s Court, from finding the two symbols to getting A’isha’s support. Irene listened quietly, nodding every now and then as she finally managed to settle Salem down. When we paused for her response, she looked hopefully at the face of her child. “If you can create such a place,” she finally answered, “I would be honored to raise my son there. And I have never seen you two fail to achieve any dream you strive toward.

She broke off the instant food was presented to her, staring at it for long moments as if not believing her yes. After that, she ate with a hunger that reminded e more of wolves than of graceful falcons. She also drained glass after glass of water and finally slowed enough to sip a hot tea. The color began to return to her skin, though in places the change served only to accentuate her injuries. “Feathered Hades, girl, when did you last eat?” Tadeo gawked. He was almost hustled out of the nest, but Kel smiled wearily. “Before I left the Keep,” she answered.

Danica’s eyes fluttered open the instant I stepped through the door, and she smiled softly. “I was starting to wonder if you were planning on obeying Betsy after all.” “Never,” I assured her. “Though I’ve promised I will let you get some sleep. How do you feel?” I went to her side, and Danica hooked and arm across my shoulders to steady herself as she sat up. Danica winced. “I hurt.” She rolled her shoulders, as if the muscles were sore. “I’m sure,” I responded sympathetically. Offering the Ahnleh A’isha had given to me, I went on, “This is a congratulatory gift from sha’Mehay.” I explained the significance of the ancient coin and repeated A’isha’s words regarding why she was giving it to Danica. She took the coin reverently, closing it in her hand for a moment before tying the cord into place. “Thank you,” she said softly, as she snuggled closer. I knew the words were not for me, but for the nest around us. I began to massage her shoulders, and she closed her eyes and leaned back toward my touch. My fingertips brushed the feathers growing under her hair at the nape of her neck. There was still a moment of hesitation in my mind every time I felt those feathers, a moment when my thoughts protested, remembering so many years of war when this beautiful woman had been my enemy, so hated that when fate crossed our paths there had been no choice but for me to love her. She met my gaze now without any hint of the fear that had once been there. Cobriana eyes had once been for Danica what her feathers were for me. Avian legend said that a royal cobra’s garnet eyes possessed demonic power, and it had taken a long time for Danica to trust me enough to look into mine. Most avians still shuddered and avoided my gaze. “I feel…tired, but wonderful. Betsy tells me--” She broke off, words failing her, and then gave up on speech and kissed me. “I love you,” she whispered--then yawned widely. “Take a nap with me?” The request, as always, made me smile. When we had first met, the idea of resting with another person was as foreign to the lovely but reserved hawk as the idea of flying was to me. I was happy that Danica had not yet taken me into the air, but she had grown used to a second heartbeat while she rested. That blessing pleased me almost as much as any could. I wrapped my arms around milady; Danica sighed, tucking her head down against my chest like a chick in the nest. Having her there calmed my fears and let me drift into sleep.

She slid out from under Drizzt’s arm, raised up on one elbow, and kissed him on the ear. “I will always love you, Drizzt Do’Urden,” she said. “My life was full and without regret because I knew you and was completed by you. Sleep well, my love.” She

What was she, after all, except the memory of all she had done, telling her the sort of person she was and guiding her next act consistently? Without that, what was left but blind chance and leaves blown meaninglessly through the trees?

We’re not allowed miracles,” she told John. “We traded them in for technology some years ago and now we’re stuck with finding out how things work.

I am writing my story,” she said. “We all are. I want my story to be wide.