Sincerely Grateful Quotes

The letter had been crumpled up and tossed onto the grate. It had burned all around the edges, so the names at the top and bottom had gone up in smoke. But there was enough of the bold black scrawl to reveal that it had indeed been a love letter. And as Hannah read the singed and half-destroyed parchment, she was forced to turn away to hide the trembling of her hand. —should warn you that this letter will not be eloquent. However, it will be sincere, especially in light of the fact that you will never read it. I have felt these words like a weight in my chest, until I find myself amazed that a heart can go on beating under such a burden. I love you. I love you desperately, violently, tenderly, completely. I want you in ways that I know you would find shocking. My love, you don't belong with a man like me. In the past I've done things you wouldn't approve of, and I've done them ten times over. I have led a life of immoderate sin. As it turns out, I'm just as immoderate in love. Worse, in fact. I want to kiss every soft place of you, make you blush and faint, pleasure you until you weep, and dry every tear with my lips. If you only knew how I crave the taste of you. I want to take you in my hands and mouth and feast on you. I want to drink wine and honey from you. I want you under me. On your back. I'm sorry. You deserve more respect than that. But I can't stop thinking of it. Your arms and legs around me. Your mouth, open for my kisses. I need too much of you. A lifetime of nights spent between your thighs wouldn't be enough. I want to talk with you forever. I remember every word you've ever said to me. If only I could visit you as a foreigner goes into a new country, learn the language of you, wander past all borders into every private and secret place, I would stay forever. I would become a citizen of you. You would say it's too soon to feel this way. You would ask how I could be so certain. But some things can't be measured by time. Ask me an hour from now. Ask me a month from now. A year, ten years, a lifetime. The way I love you will outlast every calendar, clock, and every toll of every bell that will ever be cast. If only you— And there it stopped.

This is the underside of my world. Of course you don’t want me to be stupid, bless you! you only want to make sure you’re intelligent. You don’t want me to commit suicide; you only want me to be gratefully aware of my dependency. You don’t want me to despise myself; you only want to ensure the flattering deference to you that you consider a spontaneous tribute to your natural qualities. You don’t want me to lose my soul; you only want what everybody wants, things to go your way; you want a devoted helpmeet, a self-sacrificing mother, a hot chick, a darling daughter, women to look at, women to laugh at, women to come to for comfort, women to wash your floors and buy your groceries and cook your food and keep your children out of your hair, to work when you need the money and stay home when you don’t, women to be enemies when you want a good fight, women who are sexy when you want a good lay, women who don’t complain, women who don’t nag or push, women who don’t hate you really, women who know their job, and above all—women who lose. On top of it all, you sincerely require me to be happy; you are naively puzzled that I should be so wretched and so full of venom in this the best of all possible worlds. Whatever can be the matter with me? But the mode is more than a little outworn. As my mother once said: The boys throw stones at the frogs in jest. But the frogs die in earnest.

A sincere compliment is always grateful to a lady, so long as you don't try to knock her down with it.

In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it's wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices.

And I am forever grateful That you know every inch of me.

The more you do for people, the less grateful they become, but don’t let that deter your sincere spirit of giving.

I am sincerely grateful that our paths crossed, even if you could not stay, even if it was just for a short while. my heart will always be with you.

The Magic Formula: Deliberately think and say the magic words, thank you. The more you deliberately think and say the magic words, thank you, the more gratitude you feel. The more gratitude you deliberately think and feel, the more abundance you receive. Gratitude is a feeling. So the ultimate aim in practicing gratitude is to deliberately feel it as much as you can, because it’s the force of your feeling that accelerates the magic in your life. Newton’s law is one for one – what you give you receive, equally. That means that if you increase your feeling of gratitude, the results in your life will expand to be equal to your feeling! The truer the feeling, the more sincerely grateful you are, the faster your life will change.

Thank you.” Okay, sincerity was not what I had come to expect from this man. I shook it off. “It’s easier for me to get information if you’re alive.” The corner of his mouth twitched as he sat up. Jesus, abs like that should be illegal. He caught his breath and shook his head. “Either way, I’m grateful.” He glanced my way, his dark eyes full of secrets. “And for me, that doesn’t happen very often.” I raised a brow. “You’re usually an ungrateful bastard?” “No.” He chuckled, sucking in a pained breath before lifting his gaze to meet mine. “I rarely have anything to be thankful for.

Spade didn't respond with any useless, comforting cliches, for which she was grateful. She's head enough of those well-meaning phrases after Randy died. Why couldn't people acknowledge that occasionally, life just sucked? Didn't they realize that sometime silence was more comforting than the more sincere expression of sympathy or attempt at showing the deeper meaning behind it all?

Self-slaughter is an extravagant enactment of feeling sorry for oneself. Suicide is stingy act, because no matter how wretched our life may currently be, a person can always rise tomorrow and perform some small act of kindness for other people, care for a pet, or perform some other caring act that works towards preserving nature’s graciousness. To die of their own hand is to cheat other people and shortchange Mother Nature; it is taking without giving back in kind. What combats suicide is a sense of gratitude, a willingness to give to other people, and to cease living life as a taker. Without a profound appreciation for all that is living and devoid of a sincere willingness to contribute to the flourishing of all life forms, one can callously write off the value of their own life.

And he feels grateful that he has been left with this one substantial relic of all his years of service and thinks how sincerely he has deserved this. Yet he knows the world in which people deserve things or do not deserve them is passing away. Europe is at war. Fairness is now becoming a word without meaning.

Summary of the Science of Getting Rich There is a thinking stuff from which all things are made, and which, in its original state, permeates, penetrates, and fills the interspaces of the universe. A thought in this substance produces the thing that is imaged by the thought. Man can form things in his thought, and by impressing his thought upon formless substance can cause the thing he thinks about to be created. In order to do this, man must pass from the competitive to the creative mind; otherwise he cannot be in harmony with the Formless Intelligence, which is always creative and never competitive in spirit. Man may come into full harmony with the Formless Substance by entertaining a lively and sincere gratitude for the blessings it bestows upon him. Gratitude unifies the mind of man with the intelligence of Substance, so that man’s thoughts are received by the Formless. Man can remain upon the creative plane only by uniting himself with the Formless Intelligence through a deep and continuous feeling of gratitude. Man must form a clear and definite mental image of the things he wishes to have, to do, or to become; and he must hold this mental image in his thoughts, while being deeply grateful to the Supreme that all his desires are granted to him. The man who wishes to get rich must spend his leisure hours in contemplating his Vision, and in earnest thanksgiving that the reality is being given to him. Too much stress cannot be laid on the importance of frequent contemplation of the mental image, coupled with unwavering faith and devout gratitude. This is the process by which the impression is given to the Formless, and the creative forces set in motion. The creative energy works through the established channels of natural growth, and of the industrial and social order. All that is included in his mental image will surely be brought to the man who follows the instructions given above, and whose faith does not waver. What he wants will come to him through the ways of established trade and commerce. In order to receive his own when it shall come to him, man must be active; and this activity can only consist in more than filling his present place. He must keep in mind the Purpose to get rich through the realization of his mental image. And he must do, every day, all that can be done that day, taking care to do each act in a successful manner. He must give to every man a use value in excess of the cash value he receives, so that each transaction makes for more life; and he must so hold the Advancing Thought that the impression of increase will be communicated to all with whom he comes in contact. The men and women who practice the foregoing instructions will certainly get rich; and the riches they receive will be in exact proportion to the definiteness of their vision, the fixity of their purpose, the steadiness of their faith, and the depth of their gratitude.

Are you kidding me? You’ve buried yourself so deep inside me that there’s no way to know where my love for you starts and where I end. It’s one and the same. You’re all that I am, and I’m so fucking grateful to have you. I fucking love you.” I coat my words in sincerity.

Hardship and ease walk hand-in-hand in this world, and embracing them both as being from the same benevolent source ensures that we walk with gratitude for our blessings and gratefulness for our challenges. We sincerely believe that mercy pervades the cosmos, and in recognizing that, we reconnect with the hope of spring, the serenity of summer, the beauty of autumn, and the majesty of winter. Each comes with its gifts, and each call us to reflect.

Prayer is an essential part of conveying appreciation to our Heavenly Father. He awaits our expressions of gratefulness each morning and night in sincere, simple prayer from our hearts for our many blessings, gifts, and talents. Through expression of prayerful gratitude and thanksgiving, we show our dependence upon a higher source of wisdom and knowledge—God the Father and his Son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We are taught to ‘live in thanksgiving daily.’ (Alma 34:38.)

Don't let the covers fool you. Books, like lives, are wiggling, evolving, living things. They're not bound by pages or authors or schools of thought. They're not born when they're printed; in fact, they only start to live once they're read. So first of all, we thank you, reader. You dignify this work we do, and we're sincerely grateful for your time and attention.

And Sadie is the light of my life,” Julius says, his lip curling, even though there’s an odd note to his tone. Something that could be confused for sincerity. “The sun in my sky, the source of all my joy. She’s the reason I wake up every morning excited to go to my classes. Not a day goes by where I’m not grateful that she exists, that she’s there, that I get to talk to her and pass her in the halls and listen to her laugh.

Paul observed Julian's compassion with more unease than fondness. The kindness was sincere, but so was the fascination. Julian could witness suffering and endure it, so long as it was under enough control that he could tease apart how it worked. Once he knew the shape of someone else's pain, he could break off a piece of it- claim it as his own, keep it as a memento under glass -and know they would be grateful to him for taking it away.

But there's the catch. I'd like to live that seemingly carefree and happy life for an evening, a few days, a week. At the end of that week I'd be exhausted, and would be grateful to the first person to talk to me about something meaningful. I want friends, not admirers. People who respect me for my character and my deeds, not my flattering smile. The circle around me would be much smaller, but what does that matter, as long as they're sincere?

Yes,' I say, but my voice fails me. It comes out all breath. 'Yes.' He leans forward in the chair, eyebrows raised, but he doesn't wear his usual arrogant mien. I cannot read his expression. 'To what are you agreeing?' 'Okay,' I say. 'I'll do it. I'll marry you.' He gives me a wicked grin. 'I had no idea it would be such a sacrifice.' Frustrated, I flop over on the couch. 'That's not what I mean.' 'Marriage to the High King of Elfhame is largely thought to be a prize, an honour of which few are worthy.' I suppose his sincerity could last but only so long. I roll my eyes, grateful that he's acting like himself again, so I can better pretend not to be overawed by what's about to happen.

Gabe watched her move to the center of the green. In one gloved hand, she clutched a leash. The other end of the leash was attached to... something furry and brown that rolled. "What is that?" "That would be mongrel with two lamed hind legs. Apparently, Her Ladyship's friend devised a little chariot for his rear half, and the dog careens around the neighborhood like a yapping billiard ball. If you think that's strange, wait until you see the goat." "Hold a moment. There's a goat?" "Oh, yes. She grazes it on the square every afternoon. Doesn't precisely elevate the atmosphere of Bloom Square, now does it?" "I see the problem." "I'm only getting started. Her Ladyship has single-handedly set us back a month on the improvements." Hammond pulled a collection of letters from a folio. He held one aloft and read from it. "'Dear Mr. Hammond, I must request that you delay completion of the parquet flooring. The fumes from the lacquer are dizzying the hens. Sincerely yours, Lady Penelope Campion.'" He withdrew another. "'Dear Mr. Hammond, I'm afraid your improvements to the mews must be temporarily halted. I've located a litter of newborn kittens in the hayloft. Their mother is looking after them, but as their eyes are not yet open, they should not be displaced for another week. Thank you for your cooperation. Gratefully yours, Lady Penelope Campion.'" Gabe sensed a theme. "Oh, and here's my favorite." Hammond shook open a letter and cleared his throat for dramatic effect. "'Dear Mr. Hammond, if it is not too great an imposition, might I ask that your workers refrain from performing heavy labor between nine o'clock in the morning and half-three in the afternoon? Hedgehogs are nocturnal animals, and sensitive to loud noises. My dear Freya is losing quills. I feel certain this will concern you as much as it does me. Neighborly yours, Lady Penelope Campion.'" He tossed the folio of letters onto the table, where they landed with a smack. "Her hedgehog. Really.

But if you will not take this Counsel, and persist in thinking a Commerce with the Sex inevitable, then I repeat my former Advice, that in all your Amours you should prefer old Women to young ones. You call this a Paradox, and demand my Reasons. They are these: 1. Because as they have more Knowledge of the World and their Minds are better stor'd with Observations, their Conversation is more improving and more lastingly agreable. 2. Because when Women cease to be handsome, they study to be good. To maintain their Influence over Men, they supply the Diminution of Beauty by an Augmentation of Utility. They learn to do a 1000 Services small and great, and are the most tender and useful of all Friends when you are sick. Thus they continue amiable. And hence there is hardly such a thing to be found as an old Woman who is not a good Woman. 3. Because there is no hazard of Children, which irregularly produc'd may be attended with much Inconvenience. 4. Because thro' more Experience, they are more prudent and discreet in conducting an Intrigue to prevent Suspicion. The Commerce with them is therefore safer with regard to your Reputation. And with regard to theirs, if the Affair should happen to be known, considerate People might be rather inclin'd to excuse an old Woman who would kindly take care of a young Man, form his Manners by her good Counsels, and prevent his ruining his Health and Fortune among mercenary Prostitutes. 5. Because in every Animal that walks upright, the Deficiency of the Fluids that fill the Muscles appears first in the highest Part: The Face first grows lank and wrinkled; then the Neck; then the Breast and Arms; the lower Parts continuing to the last as plump as ever: So that covering all above with a Basket, and regarding2 only what is below the Girdle, it is impossible of two Women to know an old from a young one. And as in the dark all Cats are grey, the Pleasure of corporal Enjoyment with an old Woman is at least equal, and frequently superior, every Knack being by Practice capable of Improvement. 6. Because the Sin is less. The debauching a Virgin may be her Ruin, and make her for Life unhappy. 7. Because the Compunction is less. The having made a young Girl miserable may give you frequent bitter Reflections; none of which can attend the making an old Woman happy. 8thly and Lastly They are so grateful!! Thus much for my Paradox. But still I advise you to marry directly; being sincerely Your affectionate Friend.

I think we honour God more if we gratefully accept the life that he gives us with all its blessings, loving it and drinking it to the full, and also grieving deeply and sincerely when we have impaired or wasted any of the good things of life (some people denounce such an attitude, and think it is bourgeois, weak, and sensitive), than if we are insensitive to life’s blessings and may therefore also be insensitive to pain

I consider you the best friends anyone could ever imagine and wish for. I have been deeply fortunate to have you all in my life, and I will always be grateful for your sincere and generous friendship until the day I die. That’s why I’m not going to ask for your help at this crucial moment. Each one of you will have to decide what his or her honor, heart and soul dictate that they must do. I won’t judge you, I could never do that. Whatever happens, whichever side you support, whoever wins this horrible war, I’ll always be your friend.

March 2, 1944 Love, what is love? I don't think you can really put it into words. Love is understanding someone, caring for him, sharing his joys and sorrows. This eventually includes physical love. You've shared something, given something away and received something in return...Losing your virtue doesn't matter, as long as you know that for as long as you live you'll have someone at your side who understands you, and who doesn't have to be shared with anyone else! March 7, 1944 ...I'd like to live that seemingly carefree and happy life for an evening, a few days, a week. At the end of that week I'd be exhausted, and would be grateful to the first person to talk to me about something meaningful. I want friends, not admirers. People who respect me for my character and my deeds, not my flattering smile. The circle around me would be smaller, but that does that matter, as long as they're sincere? ... At such moments I don't think about all the misery, but about the beauty that still remains. This is where Mother and I differ greatly. Her advice in the face of melancholy is: "Think about all the suffering in the world and be thankful you're not part of it." My advice is: "Go outside, to the country, enjoy the sun and all nature has to offer. Go outside and try to recapture the happiness within yourself; think of all the beauty in yourself and in everything around you and be happy." I don't think Mother's advice can be right, because what are you supposed to do if you become part of the suffering? You'd be completely lost. On the contrary, beauty remains, even in misfortune. If you just look for it, you discover more and more happiness and regain your balance. A person who's happy will make others happy; a person who has courage and faith will never die in misery!

The end of this discourse.—Now, what harm will befall you in taking this side? You will be faithful, honest, humble, grateful, generous, a sincere friend, truthful. Certainly you will not have those poisonous pleasures, glory and luxury; but will you not have others? I will tell you that you will thereby gain in this life, and that, at each step you take on this road, you will see so great certainty of gain, so much nothingness in what you risk, that you will at last recognise that you have wagered for something certain and infinite, for which you have given nothing. ”Ah! This discourse transports me, charms me,” etc. If this discourse pleases you and seems impressive, know that it is made by a man who has knelt, both before and after it, in prayer to that Being, infinite and without parts, before whom he lays all he has, for you also to lay before Him all you have for your own good and for His glory, that so strength may be given to lowliness.

His mother left the room; then, moved by insupportable regret, I just murmured the words “Dr. Bretton.” He looked up from his book; his eyes were not cold or malevolent, his mouth was not cynical; he was ready and willing to hear what I might have to say: his spirit was of vintage too mellow and generous to sour in one thunder-clap. “Dr. Bretton, forgive my hasty words: do, do forgive them.” He smiled that moment I spoke. “Perhaps I deserved them, Lucy. If you don’t respect me, I am sure it is because I am not respectable. I fear, I am an awkward fool: I must manage badly in some way, for where I wish to please, it seems I don’t please.” “Of that you cannot be sure; and even if such be the case, is it the fault of your character, or of another’s perceptions? But now, let me unsay what I said in anger. In one thing, and in all things, I deeply respect you. If you think scarcely enough of yourself, and too much of others, what is that but an excellence?” “Can I think too much of Ginevra?” “I believe you may; you believe you can’t. Let us agree to differ. Let me be pardoned; that is what I ask.” “Do you think I cherish ill-will for one warm word?” “I see you do not and cannot; but just say, ‘Lucy, I forgive you!’ Say that, to ease me of the heart-ache.” “Put away your heart-ache, as I will put away mine; for you wounded me a little, Lucy. Now, when the pain is gone, I more than forgive: I feel grateful, as to a sincere well-wisher.” “I am your sincere well-wisher: you are right.” Thus our quarrel ended.

WHOEVER YOU ARE, WHEREVER YOU ARE..I'M STARTING TO THINK WE'RE A LOT ALIKE. HUMAN BEINGS SPINNING ON BLACKNESS. ALL WANTING TO BE SEEN, TOUCHED, HEARD, PAID ATTENTION TO. MY LOVED ONES ARE EVERYTHING TO ME HERE. IN THE LAST YEAR OR 3 I'VE SCREAMED AT MY CREATOR. SCREAMED AT CLOUDS IN THE SKY. FOR SOME EXPLANATION. MERCY MAYBE. FOR PEACE OF MIND TO RAIN LIKE MANNA SOMEHOW. 4 SUMMERS AGO, I MET SOMEBODY. I WAS 19 YEARS OLD. HE WAS TOO. WE SPENT THAT SUMMER, AND THE SUMMER AFTER, TOGETHER. EVERYDAY ALMOST. AND ON THE DAYS WE WERE TOGETHER, TIME WOULD GLIDE. MOST OF THE DAY I'D SEE HIM, AND HIS SMILE. I'D HEAR HIS CONVERSATION AND HIS SILENCE..UNTIL IT WAS TIME TO SLEEP. SLEEP I WOULD OFTEN SHARE WITH HIM. BY THE TIME I REALIZED I WAS IN LOVE, IT WAS MALIGNANT. IT WAS HOPELESS. THERE WAS NO ESCAPING, NO NEGOTIATING WITH THE FEELING. NO CHOICE. IT WAS MY FIRST LOVE, IT CHANGED MY LIFE. BACK THEN, MY MIND WOULD WANDER TO THE WOMEN I HAD BEEN WITH, THE ONES I CARED FOR AND THOUGHT I WAS IN LOVE WITH. I REMINISCED ABOUT THE SENTIMENTAL SONGS I ENJOYED WHEN I WAS A TEENAGER.. THE ONES I PLAYED WHEN I EXPERIENCED A GIRLFRIEND FOR THE FIRST TIME. I REALIZED THEY WERE WRITTEN IN A LANGUAGE I DID NOT YET SPEAK. I REALIZED TOO MUCH, TOO QUICKLY. IMAGINE BEING THROWN FROM A PLANE. I WASN'T IN A PLANE THOUGH. I WAS IN A NISSAN MAXIMA, THE SAME CAR I PACKED UP WITH BAGS AND DROVE TO LOS ANGELES IN. I SAT THERE AND TOLD MY FRIEND HOW I FELT. I WEPT AS THE WORDS LEFT MY MOUTH. I GRIEVED FOR THEM, KNOWING I COULD NEVER TAKE THEM BACK FOR MYSELF. HE PATTED MY BACK. HE SAID KIND THINGS. HE DID HIS BEST, BUT HE WOULDN'T ADMIT THE SAME. HE HAD TO GO BACK INSIDE SOON, IT WAS LATE AND HIS GIRLFRIEND WAS WAITING FOR HIM UPSTAIRS. HE WOULDN'T TELL ME THE TRUTH ABOUT HIS FEELINGS FOR ME FOR ANOTHER 3 YEARS. I FELT LIKE I'D ONLY IMAGINED RECIPROCITY FOR YEARS. NOW IMAGINE BEING THROWN FROM A CLIFF. NO, I WASN'T ON A CLIFF, I WAS STILL IN MY CAR TELLING MYSELF IT WAS GONNA BE FINE AND TO TAKE DEEP BREATHS. I TOOK THE BREATHS AND CARRIED ON. I KEPT UP A PECULIAR FRIENDSHIP WITH HIM BECAUSE I COULDN'T IMAGINE KEEPING UP MY LIFE WITHOUT HIM. I STRUGGLED TO MASTER MYSELF AND MY EMOTIONS. I WASN'T ALWAYS SUCCESSFUL. THE DANCE WENT ON.. I KEPT THE RHYTHM FOR SEVERAL SUMMERS AFTER. IT'S WINTER NOW. I'M TYPING THIS ON A PLANE BACK TO LOS ANGELES FROM NEW ORLEANS. I FLEW HOME FOR ANOTHER MARRED CHRISTMAS. I HAVE A WINDOWSEAT. IT'S DECEMBER 27, 2011. BY NOW I'VE WRITTEN TWO ALBUMS, THIS BEING THE SECOND. I WROTE TO KEEP MYSELF BUSY AND SANE. I WANTED TO CREATE WORLDS THAT WERE ROSIER THAN MINE. I TRIED TO CHANNEL OVERWHELMING EMOTIONS. I'M SURPRISED AT HOW FAR ALL OF IT HAS TAKEN ME. BEFORE WRITING THIS I'D TOLD SOME PEOPLE MY STORY. I'M SURE THESE PEOPLE KEPT ME ALIVE, KEPT ME SAFE.. SINCERELY. THESE ARE THE FOLKS I WANNA THANK FROM THE FLOOR OF MY HEART. EVERYONE OF YOU KNOWS WHO YOU ARE.. GREAT HUMANS, PROBABLY ANGELS. I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NOW, AND THAT'S ALRITE. I DON'T HAVE ANY SECRETS I NEED KEPT ANYMORE. THERE'S PROBABLY SOME SMALL SHIT STILL, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. I WAS NEVER ALONE, AS MUCH AS I FELT LIKE IT. AS MUCH AS I STILL DO SOMETIMES. I NEVER WAS. I DON'T THINK I EVER COULD BE. THANKS. TO MY FIRST LOVE, I'M GRATEFUL FOR YOU. GRATEFUL THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WASN'T WHAT I HOPED FOR AND EVEN THOUGH IT WAS NEVER ENOUGH, IT WAS. SOME THINGS NEVER ARE.. AND WE WERE. I WON'T FORGET YOU. I WON'T FORGET THE SUMMER. I'LL REMEMBER WHO I WAS WHEN I MET YOU. I'LL REMEMBER WHO YOU WERE AND HOW WE'VE BOTH CHANGED AND STAYED THE SAME. I'VE NEVER HAD MORE RESPECT FOR LIFE AND LIVING THAN I HAVE RIGHT NOW. MAYBE IT TAKES A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE TO FEEL ALIVE. THANKS. TO MY MOTHER, YOU RAISED ME STRONG. I KNOW I'M ONLY BRAVE BECAUSE YOU WERE FIRST.. SO THANK YOU. ALL OF YOU. FOR EVERYTHING GOOD. I FEEL LIKE A FREE MAN. IF I LISTEN CLOSELY.. I CAN HEAR THE SKY FALLING TOO. - FRANK

I have seen and heard of expression of discontent in the public journals at the result of the expedition. I do not know how far this feeling extends in the army. My brother officers have been too kind to report it, and so far the troops have been too generous to exhibit it. It is fair, however, to suppose that it does exist, and success is so necessary to us that nothing should be risked to secure it. I therefore, in all sincerity, request Your Excellency to take measures to supply my place. I do this with the more earnestness because no one is more aware than myself of my inability for the duties of my position. I cannot even accomplish what I myself desire. How can I fulfill the expectations of others? In addition I sensibly feel the growing failure of my bodily strength. I have not yet recovered from the attack I experienced the past spring. I am becoming more and more incapable of exertion, and am thus prevented from making the personal examinations and giving the personal supervision to the operations in the field which I feel to be necessary. I am so dull that in making use of the eyes of others I am frequently misled. Everything, therefore, points to the advantages to be derived from a new commander, and I the more anxiously urge the matter upon Your Excellency from my belief that a younger and abler man than myself can readily be obtained.… I have no complaints to make of anyone but myself. I have received nothing but kindness from those above me, and the most considerate attention from my comrades and companions at arms. To Your Excellency I am specially indebted for uniform kindness and consideration. You have done everything in your power to aid me in the work committed to my charge, without omitting anything to promote the general welfare. I pray that your efforts may at length be crowned with success, and that you may long live to enjoy the thanks of a grateful people. With sentiments of great esteem, I am very respectfully and truly yours, R. E. LEE, General

People say it far too much, 'I'll be eternally grateful' is one of the most vacuous statements ever uttered and yet one hears it often, always with that unvarying epithet, always that same irresponsible 'eternally', another clue to its absolute lack of reality, or truth or meaning

All of these things cost money, and you received them all – at no charge! As you travel back through memories of your childhood and youth, you’ll realize how many things you received that equate to hard-earned money. Be grateful for every single instance and memory, because when you can feel sincere gratitude for the money you’ve received in the past, your money will magically increase in the future! It is guaranteed by Universal law.

Dear Lord," Jed began, his voice resonating with sincerity and warmth. "We come before you with grateful hearts to thank you for the bounty of delicious food and the exceptional company. We're truly blessed to be gathered here as a family, united in love and safety. As we venture forth on the paths you've laid out for us, we pray that you'll watch over us, guide us through the challenges we face and ultimately reunite us as a family, unscathed. May the battles and wars fought in our daily plight forge our understanding of the bigger purpose we all serve.

Why do most Washington politicians have such a drive to remain in power? I am certain that some sincerely desire to make a positive contribution to the nation. However, it seems the longer they remain in a position of authority, it becomes about the money, fame, and power which becomes their dope, their cocaine driving them. They yielded to the temptation Christ rejected to receive the “authority and honor” of the people. Be grateful if your elected officials are honest, sincere, and making a positive impact.

are all exceptional cases. We all want to appeal against something! Each of us insists on being innocent at all cost, even if he has to accuse the whole human race and heaven itself. You won’t delight a man by complimenting him on the efforts by which he has become intelligent or generous. On the other hand, he will beam if you admire his natural generosity. Inversely, if you tell a criminal that his crime is not due to his nature or his character but to unfortunate circumstances, he will be extravagantly grateful to you. During the counsel’s speech, this is the moment he will choose to weep. Yet there is no credit in being honest or intelligent by birth. Just as one is surely no more responsible for being a criminal by nature than for being a criminal by circumstance. But those rascals want grace, that is irresponsibility, and they shamelessly allege the justifications of nature or the excuses of circumstances, even if they are contradictory. The essential thing is that they should be innocent, that their virtues, by grace of birth, should not be questioned and that their misdeeds, born of a momentary misfortune, should never be more than provisional. As I told you, it’s a matter of dodging judgment. Since it is hard to dodge it, tricky to get one’s nature simultaneously admired and excused, they all strive to be rich. Why? Did you ever ask yourself? For power, of course. But especially because wealth shields from immediate judgment, takes you out of the subway crowd to enclose you in a chromium-plated automobile, isolates you in huge protected lawns, Pullmans, first-class cabins. Wealth, cher ami, is not quite acquittal, but reprieve, and that’s always worth taking. Above all, don’t believe your friends when they ask you to be sincere with them. They merely hope you will encourage them in the good opinion they have of themselves by providing them with the additional assurance they will find in your promise of sincerity. How could sincerity be a condition of friendship? A liking for truth at any cost is a passion that spares nothing and that nothing resists. It’s a vice, at times a comfort, or a selfishness. Therefore, if you are in that situation, don’t hesitate: promise to tell the truth and then lie as best you can. You will satisfy their hidden desire and doubly prove your affection.

Precisely three days after Christopher and Audrey had left for London, Beatrix went to the Phelans’ house to ask after Albert. As she had expected, the dog had set the household into chaos, having barked and howled incessantly, ripped carpeting and upholstery to shreds, and bitten footman’s hand. “And in addition,” the housekeeper, Mrs. Clocker, told Beatrix, “he won’t eat. One can already see his ribs. And the master will be furious if we let anything happen to him. Oh, this is the most trying dog, the most detestable creature I’ve ever encountered.” A housemaid who was busy polishing the banister couldn’t seem to resist commenting, “He scares me witless. I can’t sleep at night, because he howls fit to wake the dead.” The housekeeper looked aggrieved. “So he does. However, the master said we mustn’t let anyone take Albert. And as much as I long to be rid of the vicious beast, I fear the master’s displeasure even more.” “I can help him,” Beatrix said softly. “I know I can.” “The master or the dog?” Mrs. Clocker asked, as if she couldn’t help herself. Her tone was wry and despairing. “I can start with the dog,” Beatrix said in a low undertone. They exchanged a glance. “I wish you could be given the chance,” Mrs. Clocker murmured. “This household doesn’t seem like a place where anyone could get better. It feels like a place where things wane and are extinguished.” This, more than anything, spurred Beatrix into a decision. “Mrs. Clocker, I would never ask you to disobey Captain Phelan’s instructions. However…if I were to overhear you telling one of the housemaids where Albert is being kept at the moment, that’s hardly your fault, is it? And if Albert manages to escape and run off…and if some unknown person were to take Albert in and care for him but did not tell you about it immediately, you could not be blamed, could you?” Mrs. Clocker beamed at her. “You are devious, Miss Hathaway.” Beatrix smiled. “Yes, I know.” The housekeeper turned to the housemaid. “Nellie,” she said clearly and distinctly. “I want to remind you that we’re keeping Albert in the little blue shed next to the kitchen garden.” “Yes, mum.” The housemaid didn’t even glance at Beatrix. “And I should remind you, mum, that his leash is on the half-moon table in the entrance hall.” “Very good, Nellie. Perhaps you should run and tell the other servants and the gardener not to notice if anyone goes out to visit the blue shed.” “Yes, mum.” As the housemaid hurried away, Mrs. Clocker gave Beatrix a grateful glance. “I’ve heard that you work miracles with animals, Miss Hathaway. And that’s indeed what it will take, to tame that flea-ridden fiend.” “I offer no miracles,” Beatrix said with a smile. “Merely persistence.” “God bless you, miss. He’s a savage creature. If dog is man’s best friend, I worry for Captain Phelan.” “So do I,” Beatrix said sincerely.

I would like to sincerely thank each and everyone of you who took time to read, share my work with the world, some of you took an extra mile and created beautiful graphics for my work. I'm ever so grateful for your support and to have you all in my life. May the good God bless and keep you.

Sincere, heartfelt appreciation is pure love, and is the strongest message to the Universe that this is more of what you want to experience. Feel grateful and attract more reason to be grateful for. It works like magic.

Rather stupid creatures, aren't they?' he said to draw her eyes back to this. 'No. I find them quite - admirable, in fact.' 'How so?' She gave him a frown, as though doubting the sincerity of his interest. The hesitance was new to her, and it grated him, for it suggested an unpleasant history - one in which her youthful confidence had been eroded, gradually, by men who took no interest in her thoughts. 'Go on,' he said. 'Do you mean to follow Mandeville, and argue that bees show how self-interest and vice might profit the world?' She laughed. 'Oh, no. I was thinking far less philosophically. Besides, Mandeville wrongs the poor bees in his verse. They are quite Christian in their industry, don't you think? Unceasing in their duties. And yet - one cannot say their docility signifies stupidity, or any dullness of sentiment. When one of their own is threatened, they rouse in unison to defend him. Even the lowliest drone might count on his brethren's support, and I think - I think there is great virtue, great comfort, in such brotherhood.' [...] 'You are no drone, Nora. And unthinking loyalty is no virtue by my account.' Her mouth flattened. She locked eyes with him for a hard second. 'Do not imagine my loyalty is unthinking.

It’s Not Easy Let’s be honest. Ethics is not for wimps. It’s not easy being a good person. It’s not easy: to be honest when it might be costly. To keep inconvenient promises or to put principles above comfort. It’s not easy: to stand up for your beliefs and still respect differing viewpoints. It’s not easy: to be on time. To control anger. To be accountable for attitudes and actions. To refrain from gossip and hurtful words. To tackle unpleasant tasks. Or to sacrifice the now for later. It’s not easy: to bear criticism and learn from it without getting angry. To take advice. Or to admit error. It’s not easy: to really feel sorry and apologize sincerely. To accept an apology graciously. Or to forgive and let go. It’s not easy: to not complain. To stop feeling like a victim. To avoid disheartening cynicism. To make the best of every situation. Or to be cheerful for the sake of others. It’s not easy: to share. To be consistently kind. To think of others first. To judge generously. To give the benefit of the doubt. To give without concern for gratitude. Or to be grateful. It’s not easy: to fail and still keep trying. To learn from failure. To risk failing again. To start over. To lose with grace. Or to be glad for the success of another. It’s not easy: to avoid excuses. To resist temptations. Or to listen to our better angels. No, being a person of character is not easy. That’s why it’s such a lofty goal and an admirable achievement.

It never occurred to him to see himself as the contradiction, the exact opposite of his friend. He thought that only love, only sincere devotion was needed to fuse two into one, to wipe out differences and bridge contrasts. But how harsh and positive this Narcissus was, how merciless and precise! Innocent abandonment, grateful wandering together in the land of friendship seemed unknown and undesirable to him. He did not seem to understand, to tolerate dreamy strolls on paths that led in no particular direction.

GRATITUDE & APPRECIATION The time is 22.50 UK time Monday the 7th September 2020 and I have just remembered that it would be the first night of my first conference ever of the vision God has laid in my heart for so many years ‘Indelible Marks of Jesus Christ’ which is based on Hebrews 13:7 NLT, ‘Remember your leaders who taught you the word of God. Think of all the good that has come from their lives, and follow the example of their faith’. I also would like to express my deep gratitude and sincere appreciation to the people who were willing to help and support me for the vision to take off. To Pastor Lindiwe Ncedo, leadership and the church as a whole, my spiritual home ‘Victory Vineyard Ministries, King Williams Town, South Africa. Thank you so much for welcoming, loving and supporting me every time I come home with a mission that needs to be accomplished. It means a lot to me and I will always be grateful for your love and support. To Apostle Oscar Nkosi and Prophetess Busi Nkosi, thank you for your obedience, help and support you have given me. God has used you both tremendously in my life and I was able to take a first step towards the vision God has given me. I really honour and appreciate your spirit of humility and your kindness. May God bless you and keep you both. To Prophet Andre Louw, thank you so much servant of the Most High God your support and the willingness to be a part of laying the foundation of this vision God has blessed me with. I’m really grateful to be surrounded by people like you. May God bless you beyond your imagination. To Pastor Polela: Wow, we have come a long way nkokheli yam; God has used you so much in my life, you understood my pain and your prayers really helped me to navigate through life. Thank you for your love, help and support. May God bless you beyond any known measure. To my East London family, where I would be without you guys: Bishop Nomtha Taki, Apostle Daniel Reed and Pastor Romeo Bosman. You guys rock, thank you so much for your love, help and support and so grateful for your willingness to set up the solid foundation for this vision. May God bless you for more abundantly than all you can even ask or think. To my son Pastor Pumlani Releni, thank you so much for your help and support young man, it means a lot to me. May God bless you always. To my dear sister in Christ Nosipho Soya, thank so much for being there for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen and I’m grateful for your love, help and support. May God bless you beyond your imagination. I am really blessed and grateful to have people like you in my life and I love you all!!!!

There are times when I feel trapped. Nothing is wrong; nothing has happened; everything is OK; nevertheless, all of a sudden, I feel as though I cannot continue. I occasionally have excitement, but it soon fades. Sherifa finally spoke, expressing her emotions. "I know I'm not by myself, I won't hurt myself, and I know I have friends who care about me, but sometimes I just can't!" Sherifa carried on with her confession. "That's OK, we don't always understand why we experience particular feelings, but it's normal to feel that way. In response, Robbie encircled her in her arms. "To feel this way is not acceptable... I feel out of the ordinary and burdensome. Sherifa gave a reply. “You're not a burden, though. Sincerely, you are my Moonlight.” Robbie admits her emotions. "Moonlight?" Sherifa softly retaliated. "You don't have to be normal, that's for sure. I don't care if you're average; I adore how odd you are. It's acceptable to feel how you do! Your emotions are genuine!" Robbie began to shout louder. "You don't have to feel this way by yourself. Although I am aware that I can never really comprehend how you feel, I promise to be there for you in your time of need." Robbie spoke plainly and out loud. "I'm grateful," Sherifa happily accepted this and gave her a hug in return. At that moment, she was ecstatic.

I was sincerely grateful to the men who knew what to do with women, even those who could only be men in the bedroom.

I thanked my coaches, my teammates, and my family. I was sincerely grateful for everything they had done to get me to this moment.

Full Disclosure: when Dan DiDio approached me about doing one, I was wary to say the least. Nowadays events often mean character deaths or reboots or company-wide publishing initiatives and so on. But the run Greg Capullo and I had on BATMAN was, for better or for worse, idiosyncratic - about our own hopes, our fears, our interests. It was just... very much ours. Even so, I told Dan that I *did* have a story, one I'd been working on for a few years, a big one, in the back of my brain. It was about a detective case that stretched back to the beginnings of humanity, a mystery about the nature of the DC Universe that Batman would try to uncover, and which would lead him and the Justice League to discover that their own cosmology was much larger, scarier and more wondrous than they'd known. But I wasn't sure it would make a good "event". Dan, to his credit, said, "Work it up and let's see." So I did. But in the course of working it up, I reread all the events I could think of. Just for reference. Not only recent ones, but events from years ago, from when I was a kid. And what I discovered, or rediscovered, was that at their core, events are joyous things. They're these great big stories, ridiculous tales about alien invasions or cosmic gems or zombie-space-cop attacks that have the highest stakes possible - stories where the whole universe hangs in the balance and nothing will ever be the same again! They were *about* things, and - what I also realized while doing my homework - when I was a kid, they were THE stories that brought me and my friends together. We'd split our money and buy different parts of an event, just to be able to argue about it. We'd meet after school and go on for hours about who should win, who should lose... Because even the grimmest events are celebratory. They're about pushing the limits of an already ludicrous form to a breaking point. So that's what I came back with. I remember standing in my kitchen and getting ready to pitch DARK NIGHTS: METAL to Greg, having prepared a whole presentation, a whole argument as to why, crazy as it was, it was us, it was *our* event. I said "It's called METAL," and Greg said, "I'm in," before I could even tell him the story. And even though Dan thought it was crazy, he went with it, and for that I'm very grateful. In the end, METAL is a lot of things - it's about those moments when you find yourself face to face with the worst versions of yourself, moments when all looks like doom - but at it's heart it's a love letter to comic storytelling at its most lunatic, and a tribute to the kinds of stories, events that got me thought hard times as a kid and as an adult. It's about using friendship as a foundation to go further than you thought you could go, and that means it's about me and Greg, and you as well. Because we tried something different with it, something ours, hoping you'd show up, and you did. So thank you, sincerely, from all of us on the team. Because when they work, events are about coming together and rocking out over our love of this crazy art form. And you're all in the band, now and always.

When we reached the street that branched off into the western section of the city, I expected Saadi to conintue north, but he did not. We dismounted and walked side by side, leading our horses, until my house came into view. “You should leave,” I said to him, hoping I didn’t sound rude. “Let me help you take King to your stable.” I hesitated, unsure of the idea, then motioned for him to follow me as I cut across the property to approach the barn from the rear. After putting King in his private stall at the back of the building, sectioned off from the mares, I lit a lantern and grabbed a bucket. While Saadi watched me from the open door of the building, I went to the well to fill it. “You should really go now,” I murmured upon my return, not wanting anyone to see us or the light. He nodded and hung the lantern on its hook, but he did not leave. Instead, he took the bucket from me, placing it in King’s stall, and I noticed he had tossed in some hay. Brushing off his hands, he approached me. “Tell your family I returned the horse to your care, that our stable master found him too unruly and disruptive to serve us other than to sire an occasional foal.” “Yes, I will,” I mumbled, grateful for the lie he had provided. I had been so focused on recovering the stallion that explaining his reappearance had not yet entered my mind. Then an image of Rava, standing outside the barn tapping the scroll against her palm, surfaced. What was to prevent her return? “And your sister? What will you tell her?” He smirked. “You seem to think Rava is in charge of everything. Well, she’s not in charge of our stables. And our stable master will be content as long as we can still use the stallion for breeding. As for Rava, keep the horse out of sight and she’ll likely never know he’s back in your hands.” “But what if you’re wrong and she does find out?” “Then I’ll tell her that I have been currying a friendship with you. That you have unwittingly become an informant. That the return of the stallion, while retaining Cokyrian breeding rights, furthered that goal.” I gaped at him, for his words flowed so easily, I wondered if there was truth behind them. “And is that what this is really all about?” I studied his blue eyes, almost afraid of what they might reveal. But they were remarkably sincere when he addressed the question. “In a way, I suppose, for I am learning much from you.” He smiled and reached out to push my hair back from my face. “But it is not the sort of information that would be of interest to Rava.” His hand caressed my cheek, and he slowly leaned toward me until his lips met mine. I moved my mouth against his, following his lead, and a tingle went down my spine. With my knees threatening to buckle, I put my hands on his chest for balance, feeling his heart beating beneath my palms. Then he was gone. I stood dumbfounded, not knowing what to do, then traced my still-moist lips, the taste of him lingering. This was the first time I’d been kissed, and the experience, I could not deny, had been a good one. I no longer cared that Saadi was Cokyrian, for my feelings on the matter were clear. I’d kiss him again if given the chance.

All four of them turned to see Christian standing in the open doorway. He wore a pair of black breeches and a black tunic that he’d left untied about his neck, showing her that he hadn’t donned his armor. His handsome face was pale but determined. “This is no longer your fight, Christian,” Adara said. “I will raise my own army.” He scoffed at that. “Aye, but it is. They made it so the instant they traveled here like a pack of wild dogs to kill us.” Phantom laughed evilly. “No man kills me and lives.” Christian nodded. “Exactly.” Adara frowned at them, not understanding the phrase. “It was a pact they took in prison,” Thomas explained to her. “No one would take their lives without paying dearly for it.” Christian’s pale blue eyes fairly glowed in the dim light of the refectory. “I never had any intention of going to Elgedera. But they didn’t send a single man to kill me or Adara, they sent an entire garrison or more, and that was their mistake. They have dropped the gauntlet before me and I intend to return it fully met.” Christian looked at each of them in turn. “Basilli and Selwyn have no intention of letting this matter end until we are dead. Therefore I shall end it once and for all. The prince is going home to be crowned king and to exact his revenge. Swear your fealty to me, Phantom, and I’ll see to it that you’ll have the choicest land in the kingdom.” “Why would you choose me?” “Because you have ever been in my shadow, lurking there and only emerging when I need you. I never understood why, but your loyalty has long been noted and appreciated. I would have no other man at my back for this.” Phantom seemed to consider his words. “Are you ready for the battle, Abbot?” He nodded grimly. Adara smiled in relief. Part of her was grateful, but the other part didn’t like the thought of adding any more grief to a man who had suffered so much. “Are you certain you want to do this?” Christian turned toward her. “They won’t leave me in peace, therefore I intend to leave them in pieces.” Phantom lifted his cup. “God save the king.” “And the queen,” Lutian chimed in sincerely. -Adara, Christian, Phantom, Thomas, & Lutian

Honest and Sincere Dear God, Help me to realize this day that it is Your will, Not mine that is to be done, and then to do it. Help me to accept myself as I am, But to constantly hope that I may become better. Help me to forgive, to love, and to accept others But to ask for absolutely nothing in return. Help me to be grateful for what I have and to accept More only if You will it. Help me to receive tenderness as well as to give it. Help me to be honest and sincere with myself, But to remember with a smile how little I am. Help me, above all, to have utter faith in You as My friend and leader. Help me to re-create the mood of this prayer Every twenty-four hours.

I should,’ she moaned again, ‘be grateful that you don't try to take advantage of the situation. But this is not the case. I am ashamed of that too. I hate your silence and your eyes dilated with fear. I hate you… for your silence, your sincerity, your… Her too, I hate her, the sorceress; I would gladly settle things with her using my knife… I hate her. Order me to leave, Geralt, because I can't bring myself to do that on my own, and yet that is what I want: to leave, go to the town, go to the hostel. I want revenge on you for the shame I feel, my humiliation… I'll take the first opportunity…

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There is a pause. Two seconds of shocked silence before my classmates break into titters. Some roll their eyes. This sounds a lot like one of my infamous questions that derail the class, and some of my classmates are annoyed that I’ve interrupted their get-out-of-jail-free summary of the classes they’ve skipped and the things they need to know for the midterm. But I am grateful, so grateful for the tittering. It conceals my earnestness. I’m grateful for my earlier antics, that I get to play off this question as a moment of clowning instead of a sincere, burning desire for an answer. I need to know: Is this a thing? Are there other women like me, who don’t like men? Who would tell a handsome, well-proportioned man-angel who appeared before them to go away? Who have never been touched by men? Who don’t want to be touched by men?

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