Sheridan Quotes

Never say more than is necessary.

Sometimes an understanding silence was better than a bunch of meaningless words.

I lost my heart to you. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back.

But to die as lovers may - to die together, so that they may live together.

Try to believe that maybe more light shines out of those who have the most cracks.

You will think me cruel, very selfish, but love is always selfish; the more ardent the more selfish. How jealous I am you cannot know. You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me, and hating me through death and after. There is no such word as indifference in my apathetic nature.

Someday … when we're old and gray, I'm going to look at you lying in bed beside me, just like this, and I'm going to look into your eyes and know that it's only ever been you. And that is going to be the great joy of my life.

But dreams come through stone walls, light up dark rooms, or darken light ones, and their persons make their exits and their entrances as they please, and laugh at locksmiths.

I stand by my logic though. I think love is a concept, and each person has an individual word for what sums it up for them. My word for love is Bree.

I'm afraid to love you. I'm afraid that you'll leave and that I'll go back to being alone again. Only it will be a hundred times worse because I'll know what I'm missing. I can't…” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I want to be able to love you more than I fear losing you, and I don't know how. Teach me, Bree. Please teach me. Don't let me destroy this.

You brought the silence, The most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

..the loudest words are the ones we live.

I knew I loved her – fiercely and with every part of my heart, even the broken parts, even the parts that felt unworthy and without value. And maybe those parts most of all.

I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but I thought if I sat on your porch, you wouldn't be scared. You wouldn't be alone.

If your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours.

I CAN SPEAK. I JUST LIKE TO SHOW OFF MY NICE PENMANSHIP.

Each night before I fall asleep, I make it a point to turn to my wife and silently say "Only you, only ever you". And her love slips quietly around me, holding me, anchoring me, reminding me that the loudest words are the ones we live.

You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one for ever.

Maybe there was no right or wrong, no black or white, only a thousand shades of gray when it came to pain and what we each held ourselves responsible for.

I didn’t know enough to dream you, Bree, but somehow you came true anyway. How did that happen?” He rubbed his nose along mine, pausing and then pulling back again. “Who read my mind and knew exactly what I wanted, even when I didn’t?

Loving another person always means opening yourself up for hurt

Nevertheless, life and death are mysterious states, and we know little of the resources of either.

...not all great acts of courage are obvious to those looking in from the outside.

Friends are the family you get to choose for yourself.

I want to be able to love you more than I fear losing you

And sometimes, that's all it takes–one person who's willing to listen to your heart, to the sound no one else has ever tried to hear.

I'm here for you. I'm here because of you. I'm here because you saw me, not just with your eyes, but with your heart. I'm here because you wanted to know what I had to say and because you were right...everyone does need friends.

If I owned Texas and Hell, I would rent out Texas and live in Hell

I realized that people's reactions had more to do with them, more to do with who they were, than anything about me

Sticks and stones and fists CAN break your bones, but it's the words that break your heart.

How do you teach a man who has lost everything, not to fear it happening again?

Today may be a very bad day, but tomorrow may be the best day of your life. You just have to hang on until you get there.

Bad things don't happen to people because they deserve for them to happen. It just doesn't work that way. It's just… life. And no matter who we are, we have to take the hand we're dealt, crappy though it may be, and try our very best to move forward anyway, to love anyway, to have hope anyway… to have faith that there's a purpose to the journey we're on.

This is that burden I was talking about, Bree. This is what the burden of loving me looks like.” “Loving you isn't a burden. Loving you is an honor and a joy, Archer.

I'm going to kiss you now, Evie, and when I do, it's going to mean that you're mine. I don't care how far away from each other we are. You. Are. Mine. I'll wait for you. And I want you to wait for me. Promise me you won't let anyone else touch you. Promise me you'll save yourself for me.

For some nights I slept profoundly; but still every morning I felt the same lassitude, and a languor weighed upon me all day. I felt myself a changed girl. A strange melancholy was stealing over me, a melancholy that I would not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of death began to open, and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not unwelcome possession of me. If it was sad, the tone of mind which this induced was also sweet. Whatever it might be, my soul acquiesced in it.

You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me.

I will prove to you that forever is not just a word, not just a measurement of unending time, but that forever is a place where I will treasure your heart.

I do go to hell. Every day. For you.

It suddenly occurred to me that Archer Hale had taught himself an entire language, but hadn't had a single person to talk to. Until me.

Looking at the past can be painful, but you can either run from it, numb it, or you can learn from it.

Maybe having something good and then having to let it go is more painful that never knowing what you're missing

I have never been in love with no one, and never shall," she whispered, "unless it should be with you.

He smiled back and put his lips against mine, mouthing, “I love you, too,” against my mouth, as if he was breathing love into my body.

Girls are caterpillars while they live in the world, to be finally butterflies when the summer comes; but in the meantime there are grubs and larvae, don't you see - each with their peculiar propensities, necessities and structure.

I have been in love with no one, and never shall," she whispered, "unless it should be with you." How beautiful she looked in the moonlight! Shy and strange was the look with which she quickly hid her face in my neck and hair, with tumultuous sighs, that seemed almost to sob, and pressed in mine a hand that trembled. Her soft cheek was glowing against mine. "Darling, darling," she murmured, "I live in you; and you would die for me, I love you so." I started from her. She was gazing on me with eyes from which all fire, all meaning had flown, and a face colorless and apathetic. "Is there a chill in the air, dear?" she said drowsily. "I almost shiver; have I been dreaming? Let us come in. Come; come; come in.

It will only ever be you, Evie.

You’re my everything, Bree.

Did you… want me to kiss you yesterday? Did you want me to touch you? His lips parted slightly, and he watched me for my answer like his life depended on it.

Sometimes, you don't even realize anything is wrong until someone comes along and changes you

Bad things don't happen to people because they deserve for them to happen. It just doesn't work that way. It's just... life

Only you, only ever you.

Everyone tells a story about who they are in their own head. That story defines you, dictating all your actions and all your mistakes. If your own story is filled with guilt and fear and self-hatred, life can look pretty miserable. But, if you're very lucky, you might have a person who tells you a better story, one that takes up residence in your soul, speaking louder than the woeful tale of which you've convinced yourself. If you let it speak loudly within your heart, it becomes your passion and your purpose.

Darling, darling. I live in you, and you would die for me. I love you so.

Love will have its sacrifices. No sacrifice without blood.

Half agony, half hope. Half pain, half ecstasy. Half grief, half joy. Half my downfall, half my savior.

Watch what people do when they think no one's watching, love. That's how you'll know who they really are.

Our relationship is complicated by the fact that I am emotionally retarded.

Something about the way she moves through the world does not lend itself to the care of fragile objects.

Why are you looking at me? His eyes search mine for several long seconds before he holds contact and whispers, " Because I like your face.

Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and you shall die--die, sweetly die--into mine. I cannot help it; as I draw near to you, you, in your turn, will draw near to others, and learn the rapture of that cruelty, which yet is love; so, for a while, seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit.

Mr. Pugh turned bright red. His cheeks puffed up like the galls of shad from the nearby river. His green- monster eyes rolled around his face, and he pounded both fists down on the table, and through grinding teeth and snorting gasps hollered, “INDEED NOT, MISS KNAPP! Slaves are not allowed to read and write. We have you here with good and steady pay to instruct our children and nothing else. Going near that boy, or any other slave, with chalk or book learnin’ is strictly forbidden! Do you understand me?

You are afraid to die?' Yes, everyone is.' But to die as lovers may - to die together, so that they may live together. Girls are caterpillars when they live in the world, to be finally butterflies when the summer comes; but in the meantime there are grubs and larvae, don't you see - each with their peculiar propensities, necessities and structures.

I remember everything about it—with an effort. I see it all, as divers see what is going on above them, through a medium, dense, rippling, but transparent.

Because the problem is, you can't shut off one emotion without shutting off all your emotions. You have to feel the pain if you're going to feel the joy.

love was all about learning to speak a person's language.

I’m in love with you too. I am so desperately in love with you. Is it enough, Bree?

—Bonitas botas, Sheridan. Allie no miró atrás. —Sé bueno, Carter West. Había recorrido la mitad del pasillo cuando oyó su respuesta. —Eso siempre.

Tale-bearers are as bad as the tale-makers.

Sometimes my life felt so small. And I had to wonder why those of us who were given small lives, still had to feel pain so big.

He rips his mouth from mine as he growls, "Mine. Only mine. Only. Ever. Mine," still slamming into me, pounding me against the wall.

Life is wild

He reached out and lightly touched her hair. There’s no way, he thought. I’m sunk. And my heart hasn’t beat the same since she walked into town.

but curiosity is a restless and scrupulous passion, and no one girl can endure, with patience, that hers should be baffled by another.

There is nothing to find out. What I know, is that you walked through my gate that day and I lost my heart. But not because it could have been any girl-because it was you. I lost my heart to you. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back.

I try to believe that something beautiful can result from something ugly, and that there will come a time when I'll get to see what that is.

It’s like, the second I saw him, my life started.

I choose you, I choose you, Leo. Always.

She criticized, “There are no excuses for why it could not be better. The devil’s in the details,” Viola tried to teach him. That made him mad and she heard him mutter, “Now’s I know why they call you Mrs. Rough-ner!” He went out and used hand scissors for the edges making the yard crisp and pleasant for all to see. Then, Viola just had to smile to herself because she guessed she had pushed him to his limit! But at last, the task was perfect and then, right after that, he left their home again.

We dreamed together, we planned a life together. We were so young, but we were so sure.

The number of those who undergo the fatigue of judging for themselves is very small indeed.

It wasn’t until someone kicked his legs that Nik woke up. Alek, snoring beside him, his head resting on his shoulder. Ban snoring on the other couch, the noise rivaled only by the dog. He looked into the impossibly cranky face of Zach Sheridan. “Y’all get food?” “We had a full refrigerator before you three got here.” “Where I come from, we don’t let the refrigerator get empty.” “Where you come from, you marry your sister.

...and to this hour the image of Carmilla returns to mind with ambiguous alterations--sometimes the playful, languid, beautiful girl; sometimes the writhing fiend I saw in the ruined church; and often from a reverie I have started, fancying I heard the light step of Carmilla at the drawing room door.

You brought the silence, The most beautiful sound I'd ever heard, Because it was where you were. And now you've taken it away. And all the noises, all the sounds in the world, Aren't loud enough to pierce my broken heart. I look up at the stars, endless and forever, and whisper, Come back to me, Come back to me, Come back to me.

Thus fortified I might take my rest in peace. But dreams come through stone walls, light up dark rooms, or darken light ones, and their persons make their exists and their entrances as they please, and laugh at locksmiths.

I guess if it wasn't beautiful, the tragedy ultimately wouldn't be sad.

As long as we’re both under the same moon, we’ll always find a way to each other.

After a minute, I look up and the boy named Leo is staring at me. I stare back, but he doesn´t look away. "Why are you looking at me?" I hiss at him, my cheeks turning hot, filled with shame for the exchange he just heard. He just keeps looking at me for a moment, and then he shrugs. "Because I like your face," he says, but now a corner of his mouth is quirking up in a half smile.

I don't know how to do any of this. You deserve better than the nothing I have to offer you. But it hurts even more to think of letting you go

love is not always smooth and easy. Love can be piercing. Love means exposing yourself—all of yourself, every tender part—to being hurt. Because true love is not only the flower, true love is also the thorns.

And it’s my hope that you will see, that I fought for you because you’re worth fighting for.

I didn't know enough to dream you, Bree, but somehow you came true anyway. How did that happen?

I really, really like how you make me feel – like if you looked at me every day, the way you’re looking at me right now, I could do anything, be anything, be more

I've heard people say they lose themselves in a kiss, but it was like we found ourselves the second our lips met. It was like he took me apart and put me back together with that kiss.

Ugly people kill people all the time. But when pretty people did, it got attention.

I know you like my hands in your hair. Show me other ways you like to be touched. Teach me what you like, he said

Someday, when I'm living my dreams, I'm going to think of all the things that broke my heart and I'm going to be thankful for them.

I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I wish you could read my mind so that you would know how much I want you, no one else. There could be three hundred men after me right now, and it wouldn't matter. Because none of them are you, Archer Hale. None of them are the man I love.

She had told me my voice mattered, and her love had made me believe it might be true. And sometimes, that's all it takes–one person who's willing to listen to your heart, to the sound no one else has ever tried to hear.

Can we kiss some more? he asked, his eyes shining with desire

Eden, I vow this. My heart is yours. My life is yours. My body is yours. My art, my dreams. You own each and every part of me.

Maybe I’m an open book, or maybe love is like a magnifying glass straight into the souls of those who own your heart.

I'm here for you. I'm here because of you. I'm here because you saw me, not just with your eyes, but with your heart.

Books aren't lumps of paper, but minds on shelves.

I think that when enough time has passed, when you've survived that which you didn't imagine you could, there's a dignity in that. Something you can own. A pride in knowing the pain made you stronger. The pain made you fight to succeed. Someday, when I'm living my dreams, I'm going to think of all the things that broke my heart and I'm going to be thankful for them. – TF

I think that 95 percent of knowing you're the greatest is all about confidence. You might suspect you're the greatest, you might hope you're the greatest, but if you don't have the balls to proclaim yourself the greatest in bold packaging, and let your critics test you if they dare, then you probably aren't the greatest. Who can resist the guy who really, truly believes in himself?

I don’t mind chasing you, Ellie. Just let me catch you once in a while.

I was glad he didn’t try to come up with something encouraging to say. Sometimes an understanding silence was better than a bunch of meaningless words.

Are thy fighting or having a bookclub?

She was slender, and wonderfully graceful. Except that her movements were languid—very languid—indeed, there was nothing in her appearance to indicate an invalid.

And the thing about falling in love is that no matter where you are when it happens, you can't help but to color those moments with beauty, even if you're in a location of ugliness. He made what would have been a place of nightmares into a place to dream.

When Booker first started working for her a few years ago and was living in their home, she saw him cower with apprehension every time she snapped a new order or made him redo tasks more than once, twice, or three times. Now, she knew that he understood her ways better, her need for order, cleanliness, and strict attention to details. She felt he was beginning to realize just what this fifty-seven-year-old Yankee schoolteacher expected of her thirteen-year-old house servant and pupil. He began to appreciate the books from which she taught him after his morning chores were completed. She gave him a few to start his own library and found he stored them in old dry goods boxes in his bedroom.

Sometimes it's right to meet in the middle, but sometimes, the simplest act of grace is to meet the other person where they are. That, that is love

What a fool I was! and yet, in the sight of angels, are we any wiser as we grow older? It seems to me, only, that our illusions change as we go on; but, still, we are madmen all the same.

There is something particularly fascinating about seeing places you know in a piece of art - be that in a film, or a photograph, or a painting.

You’re here. I’m here for you.

In my mind, I belonged to Leo, and he belonged to me. Distance would never change that.

I never read a book before reviewing it: it prejudices a man so.

the loudest words are the ones we live.

I suffered, yes, but I realized I would happily suffer for you, because that's what loving someone is. Willing to do anything for them, willing to make any sacrifice, suffer so they don't have to. I loved you then, and I still love you now.

I love you, Butterscotch. You have the most beautiful heart of anyone I've ever met. And maybe you feel like a mess sometimes, and life is a mess sometimes, but the way I see it, you're the beauty that came from the mess.

She used to place her pretty arms about my neck, draw me to her, and laying her cheek to mine, murmur with her lips near my ear, “Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and you shall die—die, sweetly die—into mine. I cannot help it; as I draw near to you, you, in your turn, will draw near to others, and learn the rapture of that cruelty, which yet is love; so, for a while, seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit.” And when she had spoken such a rhapsody, she would press me more closely in her trembling embrace, and her lips in soft kisses gently glow upon my cheek.

They don't know who you are, Archer. They have no idea. And they don't deserve to know. Don't let their judgment hurt you.

Chiron's wound symbolizes the transformative power of suffering–how personal pain, both physical and emotional, can become the source of great moral and spiritual strength.

I want to be able to love you, more than I fear losing you, and I don’t know how.

Captain John Sheridan: I wish I had your faith in the universe. I just don't see it. Delenn: Then I will tell you a great secret, Captain. Perhaps the greatest of them all. The molecules of your body are the same molecules that make up this station , and the nebula outside, that burn inside the stars themselves. We are starstuff. We are the universe made manifest, trying to figure itself out. And as we have both learned, sometimes the universe requires a change of perspective.

God, that’s sexy,” Melanie said. “It’s like you two are talking dirty right out in the open.” Archer smiled over at her and I laughed. I shook my head. “Maybe you two should learn sign so you can join us.” I grinned.

When it came to you, I noticed everything. I fell halfway in love with you before we ever spoke a word.

We have been friends together in sunshine and shade.

Although I felt very weak, I did not feel ill; and strength, one always fancies, is a thing that may be picked up when we please.

I was finally home. Not the place, but his arms. Archer’s arms were my home- the only place I wanted to be, the place where I felt safe. The place where I felt loved.

And maybe we all saw books differently based on our own hearts.

But what I did know was that I loved a girl. And I knew I loved her in a way I'd never, ever recover from. I knew I loved her to the very core of myself. And I knew she loved me back.

Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours,” I breathed out.

I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but I just thought if I sat on your porch, you wouldn't be scared. You wouldn't be alone.

Let us look again for a moment; it is the last time, perhaps, I shall see the moonlight with you.

There's nothing on earth like the feel of someone who loves you grasping your hand in the dark when you're lost and afraid.

I felt him smile against my skin, but he didn’t raise his head and he didn’t attempt to move, his body laying half on me, and half on the bed so I wasn’t being crushed. “Hey,” I said softly, “you alive there?” I felt another slow grin against my neck and then he shook his head, no. I laughed softly and his head came up, a sweet smile on his face.

You don't know me. You think you do, but you don't. You think you know what type of person I am, but you have no idea. And so, you don't get to do this. You don't get to interrupt my life over and over again and then think that I will be grateful to you for gracing my life with your very presence…

Perhaps other souls than human are sometimes born into the world, and clothed in flesh.

It’s not the things you do with love and good intentions that you end up regretting. It’s the things you don’t do that you have to live with.

Why do you call me Buttercup?

As pretty as a flower . . . as strong as a weed.

..."my wounded healer, my beautiful Archer.

Way I see it, maybe it’s not so unfair, as unfinished. If you stopped in the middle of a lot of stories, they’d seem unfair. You’re still in the middle of yours.

There's always someone society chooses not to see. There's always someone who is invisible through no fault of their own.

Lose control, baby. Just for a weekend. Let me take charge. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.

To me, reading through old letters and journals is like treasure hunting. Somewhere in those faded, handwritten lines there is a story that has been packed away in a dusty old box for years.

I couldn’t have known that Archer Hale existed somewhere in this crazy world, and that he had been made just for me. And in that moment, I knew. I was falling in love with the beautiful, silent man staring down at me. If I hadn’t already fallen.

The colorful sky stretched before us—magnificent—as if it was trying to make up for the ugliness of our lives, our constant struggles. And for just the briefest, most fleeting of moments, maybe it did.

The cold buried deep inside the bones of her hands, her feet, her head, her back…everywhere. Viola felt old, chilled, and exflunctified. She brushed away her snow-white hair and with gnarled fingers tried tucking it under the black, lacy, silk nightcap that her great niece Annie had sewn for her. Each day, her clothes consisted of a long, white, embroidered nightgown, and a soft, warm, lavender sontag with the hair brooch secured upon her left shoulder. The few pleasures she had since she could no longer see were those of having mail or newspaper stories read to her by relatives who took turns caring for her. She could not tolerate people or activity. Food and drink were tasteless. Although the family made many attempts at a tray of concoctions for her each day, she had just quit eating. She remained closed in her bedroom in this dizzy age, propped in bed, eyes shut with her memories. “Who knew I would live this long?

Evie to Jake “Oh my God,” she breathes “Your boy part is like the Incredible Hulk.” Jake raises an eyebrow and asks “Boy part?” Evie nods and asks “Is he angry?” Jake answers “Not yet. But if you keep referring to him as a ‘boy part,’ he could get there. He’s all man. You don’t want to see him get angry.” Evie responds “Oh, I definitely want to see him get angry.

Sometimes therapy takes years and years, and sometimes it can happen in one miraculous instant, a lifetime of doubt and self-hatred healed in a moment of astounding love.

Won't you come into the garden? I would like my roses to see you.

I love you, Morning Glory. It's always been your heart that kept me alive. Your love. Your sweetness. I painted you to keep you alive, and that's what kept me breathing, too.

There's nothing any of us can do about the possibility of loss

She was everything to me: my dreams, my weakness, and the person who made me want to be strong. She was the one woman who showed me I mattered, that I was wanted. That I was enough.

My eyes moved over his face. 'Why did you do it?' He was silent for a couple beats, looking down, taking his bottom lip between his teeth before he brought his hands up and said, 'I don't know.' His expression turned thoughtful, his eyes meeting mine, and then he continued. 'When you were in the trap, I couldn't speak to you to reassure you. You can't hear me...I can't help that.' He looked down for a second and then back up at me. 'But I want you to see me.' An expression of vulnerability washed over his face. 'Now you can see me.

There is no such sense of solitude as that which we experience upon the silent and vast elevations of great mountains. Lifted high above the level of human sounds and habitations, among the wild expanses and colossal features of Nature, we are thrilled in our loneliness with a strange fear and elation – an ascent above the reach of life's expectations or companionship, and the tremblings of a wild and undefined misgivings.

Happily ever after doesn't mean a lifetime of perfection. I don't think anyone believes that happily ever after means there are no unhappy days, even unhappy years. It means loving forever, despite all the many reasons it's easier not to.

You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever . . . I have loved none but you,

At some point he realized that he knew how she felt—once you know how much you love someone, no one else would do.

You don’t have to be awake to cry.

He looked like a prince, but if I were going to cast him in a fairy tale now, I'd cast him as The Dragon! A beastly, judgmental, fire-breathing dragon.

The only thing we'll get from trying to figure out where another path would have taken us are questions there are no answers to and heartbreak that can't be healed. Regardless of how we got there, all any of us can do is move forward from where we are.

In life, there are those who save us, both in big ways and in small. Sometimes that means being set free from a dark, windowless room, or being pulled out of a burning building. More often, it means being saved from yourself, and made to finally believe that letting someone love you, isn't just a big lie that you're unwilling to tell.

I wans to be able to love you more than I fear losing you, and I don't know how. Teach me, Bree. Please teach me. Don't let me destroy this.

I fell so damn hard, Tenleigh. Standing right at this bookshelf. I gave you my heart and you weren’t even in the room.

It's okay to cry. It's how your heart speaks its pain.

But no one could fix anyone else. We could only fix ourselves.

She took part of my pain and made it her own. I didn’t want her to hurt, but to share my scars with another human was a relief that I hadn’t even known I needed until I got it.

Sometimes we wore such hurtful, limiting labels in this life, whether they'd been assigned by others or by ourselves. I'd felt damaged and ruined once, but I didn't anymore. I was still a work in progress, but I wasn't a victim. I was a survivor. - Gabriel

Sometimes you don’t even realize anything is wrong until someone comes along and changes you, and makes you want more.

I’m still not the right girl.” “I still don’t agree.

People suffer all over the world, every day. But people triumph all over the world every day, too.

He was so beautiful. I felt something catch in my chest and knew it was just him, taking my breath away.

All the world's a circus. Sometimes you choose your act and sometimes it's assigned to you. I had roamed the arena for far too long, roaring and bellowing, believing that I wasn't brave enough to leap through fire. But all along, she had stood there, constant and calm."I can't make the fire go away," she had seemed to say, "I can't guarantee you won't get burned. But I can hold this hoop for you, I can remain steady and strong, because I believe in you. Because you are mine." And in the end, I had jumped. And the other side was just as glorious as her eyes had promised.

The stream of life is black and angry; how so many of us get across without drowning, I often wonder. The best way is not to look too far before-just from one stepping-stone to another; and though you may wet your feet, He won't let you drown-He has not allowed me.

He smiled. I still wasn't used to getting them, and this one made my heart speed up just a little bit. They were like a rare gift that he gave out. I snatched it up and stored it somewhere inside of me.

He brought both hands up and said, You can speak the old-fashioned way. I can hear you, remember? I blinked at him and after a few seconds brought my hands up. If it's okay with you, I'd like to speak your language. I smiled a small smile.

What I know, is that you walked through my gate that day and I lost my heart. But not because it could have been any girl–because it was you. I lost my heart to you. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back.

And why does every deliberately cruel person seem to consider themselves the perfect example of necessary bluntness? As if you're supposed to thank them for mowing over your heart with their special brand of honesty.

No matter who we are, we have to take the hand we're dealt, crappy though it may be, and try our very best to move forward anyway, to love anyway, to have hope anyway... to have faith that there's a purpose to the journey we're on... And try to believe that maybe more light shines out of those who have the most cracks.

We had everything we needed. None of it was big. Most of it was simple. But what I knew in that moment was that the size of your home, your car, your wallet, doesn't have one single thing to do with the size of your life. And my life . . . my life felt big, filled with love and with meaning.

Why do you like show jumping?" "... Beauty and excitement. The elements of trust, talent, training, love, and danger make show jumping a thrilling and aesthetic experience. It's really the ultimate test of two nervous systems--the kinetic transfer of the rider's muscle to the horse's muscle enables them to clear those jumps. And there's nothing like it--horse and rider forming an arc of beauty, efficiency, and power, like a double helix." "DNA," "Yes, DNA, the code to life.

Your gift with storytelling, Evie? It's not about you getting lost in your own mind, or living in a dreamland. It's about the beauty of your heart. It's about being able to rise above even the worst of situations. It's one of the reason I've loved you every single day since I was 11 years old.

She stared into my eyes. “Oh shit. You idiot. You totally did! You fell in love with the porn star!” She groaned, leaning back and sliding down in her chair. “Oh God, this is worse than I thought. When you let loose, you really go all out, don’t you girlfriend? Holy crapola.

You say 'please' and 'thank you' to everyone, Evie. You almost bumped into a cocker spaniel being walked by his owner and when you ducked around him, you said, 'excuse me.' You said 'excuse me' to a dog, Evie. And I bet you didn't even think twice about that. And that's because your manners are so deeply ingrained in you, that that is second nature. And given what I know about your past, I'm gonna guess that no one fucking taught you that. That that is just all Evie." - Jake Madsen

I thought about my dad the whole time I sat there, remembering special moments, we'd shared, reminiscing about the little quirks he had, picturing his face so clearly in my mind. I focused on what I had had, on what some people never got for even a minute. I had had him for twenty-one years. I was lucky-I had been blessed.

As I stood there holding onto him, it occurred to me that not all great acts of courage are obvious to those looking in from the outside. But I saw this moment for what it was–a boy who had never been made to feel that he was wanted anywhere, showing up and asking others to accept him. It made my heart soar with pride for the beautiful act of bravery that was Archer Hale stepping into this small town diner.

I thought about how Bree and I were so different... and yet so similar. She carried the guilt of not fighting when she thought she should have, and I carried the scar of what happened when you did. We had each reacted differently in a moment of terror, and yet we both still hurt. Maybe there was no right or wrong, no black or white, only a thousand shades of gray when it came to pain and what we each held ourselves responsible for.

I was sitting in this small coffee shop a couple days ago and I saw this old man sitting at a table across from me. He looked so lonely, so sad. I was too, but it suddenly occurred to me that some people go through their whole lives never being loved or loving as deeply as I love you. There's always going to be the chance that I could lose you in this lifetime. There's nothing any of us can do about the possibility of loss. But in that moment, I decided that I was more interested in focusing on the great privilege I've been given in having you at all.

Why do you ask?" "Because I can." "You can what?" "I can go in the private collection!" I scurried toward him. "My father had a lifetime subscriptioin, Mr. Sheridan, and not just that, but he had special privileges. I'm certain I could use his name to get you into the private collection." Daniel's jaw fell. "Why didn't you say so before?" "What?" I recoiled. "How was I supposed to know you needed it?" "We could've gone ages ago!" My enthusiasm transformed into outrage. "In that case, why didn't you say you needed it?" "Because I didn't know you had a subscription!" "Aha!" I cried, thrusting a finger at him. "Your argument's a circle!" Daniel sprang up. "We wasted all this time-" "Silence!" Joseph roared. "You are like squawking parrots, and I have had quite enough. Miss Fitt, I would ask that you take Mr. Sheridan to the library immediately. Daniel, I would ask that you keep that big mouth of yours silent.

Sheridan bit back a teary smile at his quip, afraid to believe him, afraid to trust him, and unable to stop herself because she loved him. "Look at me," Stephen said, tipping her chin up again, and this time her glorious eyes looked into his. "I have several reasons for asking you to walk into that chapel, where there is a vicar waiting for us, but guilt is not among them. I also have several things to ask of you before you agree to go in there with me." "What sort of things?" "I would like you to give me daughters with your hair and your spirit," he said, beginning to enumerate his reasons and requests. "I would like my sons to have your eyes and your courage. Now, if that's not what you want, then give me any combination you like, and I will humbly thank you for giving me any child we make." Happiness began to spread through Sheridan until it was so intense she ached from it. "I want to change your name," he said with a tender smile, "so there's no doubt who you are ever again, or who you belong to." He slid his hands up and down her arms, looking directly into her eyes. "I want the right to share your bed tonight and every night from this day onward. I want to make you moan in my arms again, and I want to wake up wrapped in yours." He shifted his hands and cradled her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away two tears at the edges of her shimmering eyes. "Last of all, I want to hear you say 'I love you' every day of my life. If you aren't ready to agree to that last request right now, I would be willing to wait until tonight, when I believe you will. In return for all those concessions, I will grant you every wish that is within my power to grant you.

Sometimes after an hour of apathy, my strange and beautiful companion would take my hand and hold it with a fond pressure, renewed again and again; blushing softly, gazing in my face with languid and burning eyes, and breathing so fast that her dress rose and fell with the tumultuous respiration. It was like the ardor of a lover; it embarrassed me; it was hateful and yet over-powering; and with gloating eyes she drew me to her, and her hot lips traveled along my cheek in kisses; and she would whisper, almost in sobs, "You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one for ever." Then she had thrown herself back in her chair, with her small hands over her eyes, leaving me trembling.

I win every time I’m bold in how I love. I want to say I win a hundred times a day, a thousand, by loving the sunrise, and the wind, and the way raindrops sound on my window.” He paused, his thumb moving lightly over my cheekbone, caressing my face like I was precious. “And you, most of all, you. I want to look at you and say, one evil man did not stop me from presenting my heart to the girl who claimed it. You get my heart, Eloise. You. And, God, I hope you want it. But if you don’t, I still won’t regret giving it to you. Even then, I won’t regret loving you because it means I win.

You're jealous of a bird?" she asks. "What? No!" I snap. I just don’t think I like peacocks very much. "You're jealous of a bird," she says, a glint of amusement coming into her eyes. She glances back at her phone. "He IS gorgeous. Goddddd, soooo gorgeous," she moans out the words, throwing her head back. "Hilarious," I say, trying not to smile now at my own ridiculousness. "That bird was trying to move in on my territory. I know a brazen male threat when I see one.

From these foolish embraces, which were not of very frequent occurrence, I must allow, I used to wish to extricate myself; but my energies seemed to fail me. Her murmured words sounded like a lullaby in my ear, and soothed my resistance into a trance, from which I only seemed to recover myself when she withdrew her arms. In these mysterious moods I did not like her. I experienced a strange tumultuous excitement that was pleasurable, ever and anon, mingled with a vague sense of fear and disgust. I had no distinct thoughts about her while such scenes lasted, but I was conscious of a love growing into adoration, and also of abhorrence. This I know is paradox, but I can make no other attempt to explain the feeling.

Do you think," I said at length, "that you will ever confide fully in me?" She turned round smiling, but made no answer, only continued to smile on me. "You won't answer that?" I said. "You can't answer pleasantly; I ought not to have asked you." "You were quite right to ask me that, or anything. You do not know how dear you are to me, or you could not think any confidence too great to look for. But I am under vows, no nun half so awfully, and I dare not tell my story yet, even to you. The time is very near when you shall know everything. You will think me cruel, very selfish, but love is always selfish; the more ardent the more selfish.

Mademoiselle De Lafontaine – in right of her father, who was a German, assumed to be psychological, metaphysical and something of a mystic – now declared that when the moon shone with a light so intense it was well known that it indicated a special spiritual activity. The effect of the full moon in such a state of brilliancy was manifold. It acted on dreams, it acted on lunacy, it acted on nervous people; it had marvelous physical influences connected with life. Mademoiselle related that here cousin, who was mate of a merchant ship, having taken a nap on deck on such a night, lying on his back, with his face full in the light of the moon, had wakened, after a dream of an old woman clawing him by the cheek, with his features horribly drawn to one side; and his countenance had never quite recovered its equilibrium.