Swedish Love Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Swedish Love. Here they are! All 91 of them:

Love me when I least deserve it, because that's when I really need it.
Swedish Proverb
She sang, of course, "M'ama!" and not "he loves me," since an unalterable and unquestioned law of the musical world required that the German text of French operas sung by Swedish artists should be translated into Italian for the clearer understanding of English-speaking audiences.
Edith Wharton (The Age of Innocence)
All languages that derive from Latin form the word "compassion" by combining the prefix meaning "with" (com-) and the root meaning "suffering" (Late Latin, passio). In other languages, Czech, Polish, German, and Swedish, for instance - this word is translated by a noun formed of an equivalent prefix combined with the word that means "feeling". In languages that derive from Latin, "compassion" means: we cannot look on coolly as others suffer; or, we sympathize with those who suffer. Another word with approximately the same meaning, "pity", connotes a certain condescension towards the sufferer. "To take pity on a woman" means that we are better off than she, that we stoop to her level, lower ourselves. That is why the word "compassion" generally inspires suspicion; it designates what is considered an inferior, second-rate sentiment that has little to do with love. To love someone out of compassion means not really to love.
Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)
In the weeks that followed, we amazed ourselves. Our habits slid apart easily...And our very few intimacies were simply discontinued. Where did they go, those things we did? Were they recycled? Did some new couple in China do them? Were a Swedish man and woman foot to foot at this very moment?
Miranda July (No One Belongs Here More Than You)
A love one wishes to inherit nice things from you. Not all things from you.
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning)
Start with the large items in your home, and finish with the small.
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Make Your Loved Ones' Lives Easier and Your Own Life More Pleasant)
Putting your house in order, if you can do it, is one of the most comforting activities, and the benefits of it are incalculable.” —LEONARD COHEN, THE NEW YORKER
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Make Your Loved Ones' Lives Easier and Your Own Life More Pleasant)
Do not ever imagine that anyone will wish—or be able—to schedule time off to take care of what you didn’t bother to take care of yourself. No matter how much they love you, don’t leave this burden to them.
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Make Your Loved Ones' Lives Easier and Your Own Life More Pleasant)
Fear less, hope more; eat less, chew more; whine less, breathe more; talk less, say more; hate less, love more; and all good things are yours.
Swedish Proverb
Let me help make your loved ones' memories of you nice -- instead of awful.
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning)
You are my life and you are my everything and you are my love,” he says gently. “You have shaken me to my very soul, rattled the bars around my heart, and I am yours, Maggie, I am yours.
Karina Halle (The Swedish Prince (Royal Romance, #1))
The grand essentials to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love and something to hope for.
Héctor García (Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life / The Little Book of Lykke / Lagom: The Swedish Art of Balanced Living)
Women of my generation were brought up to not be in the way, to not trouble their surroundings with their presence. That is not the case with men, who take the space they are given for granted. My daughter sometimes says that I am so worried about being a nuisance that my worry itself becomes troublesome. Men don’t think like I do, but they should. They, too, can be in the way.
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Make Your Loved Ones' Lives Easier and Your Own Life More Pleasant)
Don’t offer things that do not fit the recipient’s taste or the space in which they live. It will be a burden to them, and if they think your feelings might be hurt, it may be difficult for them to say “No, thank you.
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Make Your Loved Ones' Lives Easier and Your Own Life More Pleasant)
I said, “ I’m sorry , sir , but we don’t speak Swedish .” “Well, of course you don’t. Neither do I . Who the hell speaks Swedish ? The important thing is not whatever nonsense the voices are saying, but what the voices are feeling. Surely you know that there are only two emotions, love and fear…
John Green (The Fault in Our Stars)
Henrik Berggren—put together their observations on individualism and formulated something they called “the Swedish theory of love.” The core idea is that authentic love and friendship are possible only between individuals who are independent and equal.
Anu Partanen (The Nordic Theory of Everything: In Search of a Better Life)
Here in Stockholm on the 14th of August is a big annual book sale. A whole long street in the center of the city is occupied by tables with books that people want to sell. It is a fantastic day for those who want to get rid of some books and for those who want to pick up more. If there is not something like this where you live, maybe you can help start one.
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Make Your Loved Ones' Lives Easier and Your Own Life More Pleasant)
fear less,hope more; whine less,breathe more; talk less,say more; hate less,love more; den all good things wll b yours;
Swedish
Is there a problem?” “Yes. Several. Global warming, systemic racism, the overpopulation of ecological niches, the unnecessary American remake of Swedish romantic horror masterpiece Let the Right One In—
Ali Hazelwood (Love on the Brain)
I love storms. They make life so much simpler. You stay inside with the fire going. You read books, you watch the snow fall. You eat simple meals and go to bed early. No shopping. No strangers. No work. We always lose signal, so no phones or television. It's good for you. Cleans your brain out. Helps you reset.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
the things we love are like the leaves of a tree: They can fall at any moment with a gust of wind. He also said that changes in the world around us are not accidental but rather form part of the essence of the universe
Héctor García (Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life / The Little Book of Lykke / Lagom: The Swedish Art of Balanced Living)
Dr. Curie was not originally included in the Nobel Prize nomination for the radioactivity theory she had come up with, until Gösta Mittag-Leffler, a Swedish mathematician dude, interceded for her with the all-male award committee.
Ali Hazelwood (Love on the Brain)
How are you holding up?" "I'm good.And still untouched," she added. "Are you alone in that bed?" "Except for the six members of the all-girl Swedish volleyball team.Helga's got a hell of a spike.Aren't you going to ask what I'm wearing?" "Black Speedos,sweat,and a big smile." "How'd you guess?So,what are you wearing?" Slowly,she ran a tongue around her teeth. "Oh,just this little..very little..white lace teddy." "And stiletto heels." "Naturally.With a pair of sheer hose.They have little pink roses around the tops. It matches the one I'm tucking between my breasts right now. I should add I've just gotten out of the tub.I'm still a little..wet." "Jesus.You're too good at this.I'm hanging up." Her response was a long, throaty laugh."I'm going to love driving the Jag.let me know when to expect the shipment." When the phone clicked in her ear,she laughed again,turned, and found herself nearly face to face wth Kate. "how long have you been standing there?" "Long enough to be confused.Were you just having [hone sex with Josh? Our Josh?" Carelessly,Margo brushed her hair behind her ear. "It was more foreplay really.
Nora Roberts (Daring to Dream (Dream Trilogy, #1))
I do know people who maintain what we in Sweden call a fulskåp, a cabinet for the ugly. A fulskåp is a cupboard full of gifts you can’t stand to look at, and which are impossible to regift. Usually these are presents from distant aunts and uncles that you put on display when the giver comes to visit. This is a bad idea.
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Make Your Loved Ones' Lives Easier and Your Own Life More Pleasant)
Life is not a problem to be solved. Just remember to have something that keeps you busy doing what you love while being surrounde by the people who love you
Héctor García (Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life / The Little Book of Lykke / Lagom: The Swedish Art of Balanced Living)
No wonder Swedish boys love high fantasy—it’s already written in their native language and they’re usually cast as the elvish heroes anyway.
Angela Mi Young Hur (Folklorn)
Love me when I least deserve it, because that’s when I really need it.
Swedish Proverb
Fear less, hope more; eat less, chew more; whine less, breathe more; talk less, say more; hate less, love more; and all good things are yours.
Swedish Proverb
All languages that derive fromLatin form the word 'compassion' by combining the prefix meaning 'with' (com-) and the root meaning 'suffering' (Late Latin, passio). In other languages- Czech, Polish, German, and Swedish, for instance- this word is translated by a noun formed of an equivalent prefixcombined with the word that means 'feeling' (Czech, sou-cit; Polish, wsspół-czucie; German, Mit-gefühl; Swedish, medkänsla). In languages that derive from Latin, 'compassion' means: we cannot look on coolly as others suffer; or, we sympathize with those who suffer. Another word with approximately the same meaning, 'pity' (French, pitié; Italian, pietà; etc.), connotes a certain condescension towards the sufferer. 'To take pity on a woman' means that we are better off than she, that we stoop to her level, lower ourselves. That is why the word 'compassion' generally inspires suspicion; it designates what is considered an inferior, second-rate sentiment that has little to do with love. To love someone out of compassion means not really to love. In languages that form the word 'compassion' not from the root 'suffering' but from the root 'feeling', the word is used in approximately the same way, but to contend that it designates a bad or inferior sentiment is difficult. The secret strength of its etymology floods the word with another light and gives it a broader meaning: to have compassion (co-feeling) means not only to be able to live with the other's misfortune but also to feel with him any emotion- joy, anxiety, happiness, pain. This kind of compassion (in the sense of soucit, współczucie, Mitgefühl, medkänsla) therefore signifies the maximal capacity of affective imagination, the art of emotional telepathy. In the hierarchy of sentiments, then, it is supreme. By revealing to Tomas her dream about jabbing needles under her fingernails, Tereza unwittingly revealed that she had gone through his desk. If Tereza had been any other woman, Tomas would never have spoken to her again. Aware of that, Tereza said to him, 'Throw me out!' But instead of throwing her out, he seized her and kissed the tips of her fingers, because at that moment he himself felt the pain under her fingernails as surely as if the nerves of her fingers led straight to his own brain. Anyone who has failed to benefit from the the Devil's gift of compassion (co-feeling) will condemn Tereza coldly for her deed, because privacy is sacred and drawers containing intimate correspondence are not to be opened. But because compassion was Tomas's fate (or curse), he felt that he himself had knelt before the open desk drawer, unable to tear his eyes from Sabina's letter. He understood Tereza, and not only was he incapable of being angry with her, he loved her all the more.
Milan Kundera
It doesn't sound fine. Is there a problem?" "Yes. Several. Global warming, systemic racism, the overpopulation of ecological niches, the unnecessary American remake of Swedish romantic horror masterpiece Let the Right One In -
Ali Hazelwood (Love on the Brain)
Or you and Greg have a role-play kink you expand out of the bedroom: you pretend to be a librarian at his grandma’s birthday, he spanks you with Billy the IKEA bookcase, orgasms are had. Consensual, Swedish, and above all: private.
Ali Hazelwood (Love, Theoretically)
Then she sat as if paralyzed, thinking. She had never in her life felt such a longing. She wanted Mikael Blomkvist to ring the doorbell and ... what then? Lift her off the ground, hold her in his arms? Passionately take her to the bedroom and tear off her clothes? No, she really just wanted his company. She wanted to hear him say that he liked her for who she was. That she was someone special in his world and in his life. She wanted him to give her some gesture of love, not just of friendship and companionship.
Stieg Larsson
Sonnet of Languages Turkish is the language of love, Spanish is the language of revolution. Swedish is the language of resilience, English is the language of translation. Portuguese is the language of adventure, German is the language of discipline. French is the language of passion, Italian is the language of cuisine. With over 7000 languages in the world, Handful of tongues fall short in a sonnet. But you can rest assured of one thing, Every language does something the very best. Each language is profoundly unique in its own way. When they come together, they light the human way.
Abhijit Naskar (Amantes Assemble: 100 Sonnets of Servant Sultans)
How she had loved and admired him. He had travelled all over the northern seas and taken a Swedish bride. Such a bold seafarer had he been that when he died they had buried him in his boat in full regalia. She could hear his deep voice still. As he lay there now, with his long beard spread, was he dreaming of the heaving seas? Perhaps. And did the gods of the north watch over him? She had no doubt of it. Were they not in his very blood? Had not their people given their names to the days of the week? Tiw, the war god, had Tuesday, in place of Mars in the Roman calendar; Woden, or Wotan as the Germans called him, greatest of all gods, had the middle day, Wednesday; Thunor the Thunderer, Thursday; Frigg, goddess of love, Friday, in place of the Roman Venus.
Edward Rutherfurd (London)
Now the moment had arrived. Birgit took her place beside him in the command car. She pulled up her large striped cotton dirndl skirt made by her fellow national, Katya of Sweden, and looked around with an excited smile. But to onlookers it was more like the strained expression of a Swedish farm woman in a Swedish outhouse in the dead of a Swedish winter. She was trying to restrain her excitement at the sight of all those naked limbs in the amber light. From the shoulders up she had the delicate neckline and face of a Nordic goddess, but below her body was breastless, lumpy with bulging hips and huge round legs like sawed-off telegraph posts. She felt elated, sitting there with her man who was leading these colored people in this march for their rights. She loved colored people. Her eyeblue eyes gleamed with this love. When she looked at the white cops her lips curled with scorn. A number of police cruisers had appeared at the moment the march was to begin. They stared at the white woman and the colored man in the command car. Their lips compressed but they said nothing, did nothing. Marcus had got a police permit. The marchers lined up four abreast on the right side of the street, facing west. The command car was at the lead. Two police cars brought up the rear. Three were parked at intervals down the street as far as the railroad station. Several others cruised slowly in the westbound traffic, turned north at Lenox Avenue, east again on 126th Street, back to 125th Street on Second Avenue and retraced the route. The chief inspector had said he didn’t want any trouble in Harlem. “Squads, MARCH!” Marcus shouted over the amplifier.
Chester Himes (Blind Man with a Pistol (Harlem Cycle, #8))
But then I don’t begin to understand a lot of things about Sweden and Norway. It’s as if they are determined to squeeze all the pleasure out of life. They have the highest income-tax rates, the highest VAT rates, the harshest drinking laws, the dreariest bars, the dullest restaurants, and television that’s like two weeks in Nebraska. Everything costs a fortune. Even the purchase of a bar of chocolate leaves you staring in dismay at your change, and anything larger than that brings tears of pain to your eyes. It’s bone-crackingly cold in the winter and it does nothing but rain the rest of the year. The most fun thing to do in these countries is walk around semi-darkened shopping centers after they have closed, looking in the windows of stores selling wheelbarrows and plastic garden furniture at prices no one can afford. On top of that, they have shackled themselves with some of the most inane and restrictive laws imaginable, laws that leave you wondering what on earth they were thinking about. In Norway, for instance, it is illegal for a barman to serve you a fresh drink until you have finished the previous one. Does that sound to you like a matter that needs to be covered by legislation? It is also illegal in Norway for a bakery to bake bread on a Saturday or Sunday. Well, thank God for that, say I. Think of the consequences if some ruthless Norwegian baker tried to foist fresh bread on people at the weekend. But the most preposterous law of all, a law so pointless as to scamper along the outer margins of the surreal, is the Swedish one that requires motorists to drive with their headlights on during the daytime, even on the sunniest summer afternoon. I would love to meet the guy who thought up that one. He must be head of the Department of Dreariness. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if on my next visit to Sweden all the pedestrians are wearing miners’ lamps.
Bill Bryson (Neither Here nor There: Travels in Europe)
arrived in Cambridge, and made an appointment to meet the formidable Krister Stendahl, a Swedish scholar of fierce intelligence, now to be my first adviser. We met in his office. I was nervous, but also amused that this tall and severe man, wearing a black shirt and clerical collar, looked to me like an Ingmar Bergman version of God. After preliminary formalities, he abruptly swiveled in his chair and turned sternly to ask, “So really, why did you come here?” I stumbled over the question, then mumbled something about wanting to find the essence of Christianity. Stendahl stared down at me, silent, then asked, “How do you know it has an essence?” In that instant, I thought, That’s exactly why I came here: to be asked a question like that—challenged to rethink everything. Now I knew I had come to the right place. I’d chosen Harvard because it was a secular university, where I wouldn’t be bombarded with church dogma. Yet I still imagined that if we went back to first-century sources, we might hear what Jesus was saying to his followers when they walked by the Sea of Galilee—we might find the “real Christianity,” when the movement was in its golden age. But Harvard quenched these notions; there would be no simple path to what Krister Stendahl ironically called “play Bible land” simply by digging through history. Yet I also saw that this hope of finding “the real Christianity” had driven countless people—including our Harvard professors—to seek its origins. Naive as our questions were, they were driven by a spiritual quest. We discovered that even the earliest surviving texts had been written decades after Jesus’s death, and that none of them are neutral. They reveal explosive controversy between his followers, who loved him, and outsiders like the Roman senator Tacitus and the Roman court historian Suetonius, who likely despised him. Taken together, what the range of sources does show, contrary to those who imagine that Jesus didn’t exist, is that he did: fictional people don’t have real enemies. What came next was a huge surprise: our professors at Harvard had file cabinets filled with facsimiles of secret gospels I had never heard of—the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Philip, the Gospel of Mary Magdalene, the Gospel of Truth—and dozens of other writings, transcribed by hand from the original Greek into Coptic, and mimeographed in blue letters on pages stamped TOP SECRET. Discovered in 1945, these texts only recently had become available to scholars. This wasn’t what I’d expected to find in graduate school, or even what I wanted—at least, not so long as I still hoped to find answers instead of more questions
Elaine Pagels (Why Religion?: A Personal Story)
When you buy from an independent, locally owned business, as opposed to nationally owned businesses, you strengthen the economic base of our city. And of course there’s no doubt that you’ll receive a better quality product or service. I share John Roeser’s amazement that people today tend to prefer saving a dollar or too two on a birthday cake, for example, by purchasing a sub-par cake made with artificial, cheap ingredients from a mass retailer, when Roeser’s Bakery offers some of the most delectable, housemade cakes in the world. How could anyone step into a fast food joint when we live in a city that has Lem’s barbecque rib tips, Kurowski’s kielbasa, Manny’s matzo ball soup, and Lindy’s chili within reach? You can’t even compare the products and services of the businesses featured in this book with those of mass retailers, either: Jjust try putting an Optimo hat on your head—you’ll ooze with elegance. Burn a beeswax lambathe from Athenian Candle and watch it glow longer than any candle you’ve ever lit. Bite into an Andersonville coffeecake from the Swedish Bakery—and you’ll have a hard time returning to the artificial ingredient– laden cakes found at most grocers. Equally important, local, family- owned businesses keep our city unique. In our increasingly homogenized and globalized world, cities that hold on tightly to their family-owned, distinctive businesses are more likely to attract visitors, entrepreneurs, and new investment. Chicago just wouldn’t be Chicago without these historic, one-of-a-kind places, and the people that run them from behind the scenes with nothing but love, hard work, and pride.
Amy Bizzarri (Discovering Vintage Chicago: A Guide to the City's Timeless Shops, Bars, Delis & More)
Mystery is the sugar in the cup,' said the Doctor. She picked up the container of white crystals the delicatessen had included in the picnic basket and poured a large dollop into her cognac. 'I don’t think I’d do that, Gunilla,' said Darcourt. 'Nobody wants you to do it, Simon. I am doing it, and that’s enough. That is the curse of life—when people want everybody to do the same wise, stupid thing. Listen: Do you want to know what life is? I’ll tell you. Life is a drama.' 'Shakespeare was ahead of you, Gunilla,' said Darcourt. '"All the world’s a stage,"' he declaimed. 'Shakespeare had the mind of a grocer,' said Gunilla. 'A poet, yes, but the soul of a grocer. He wanted to please people.' 'That was his trade,' said Darcourt. 'And it’s yours, too. Don’t you want this opera to please people?' 'Yes, I do. But that is not philosophy. Hoffmann was no philosopher. Now be quiet, everybody, and listen, because this is very important. Life is a drama. I know. I am a student of the divine Goethe, not that grocer Shakespeare. Life is a drama. But it is a drama we have never understood and most of us are very poor actors. That is why our lives seem to lack meaning and we look for meaning in toys—money, love, fame. Our lives seem to lack meaning but'—the Doctor raised a finger to emphasize her great revelation—'they don’t, you know.' She seemed to be having some difficulty in sitting upright, and her natural pallor had become ashen. 'You’re off the track, Nilla,' said Darcourt. 'I think we all have a personal myth. Maybe not much of a myth, but anyhow a myth that has its shape and its pattern somewhere outside our daily world.' 'This is all too deep for me,' said Yerko. 'I am glad I am a Gypsy and do not have to have a philosophy and an explanation for everything. Madame, are you not well?' Too plainly the Doctor was not well. Yerko, an old hand at this kind of illness, lifted her to her feet and gently, but quickly, took her to the door—the door to the outside parking lot. There were terrible sounds of whooping, retching, gagging, and pitiful cries in a language which must have been Swedish. When at last he brought a greatly diminished Gunilla back to the feast, he thought it best to prop her, in a seated position, against the wall. At once she sank sideways to the floor. 'That sugar was really salt,' said Darcourt. 'I knew it, but she wouldn’t listen. Her part in the great drama now seems to call for a long silence.' 'When she comes back to life I shall give her a shot of my personal plum brandy,' said Yerko. 'Will you have one now, Priest Simon?
Robertson Davies (The Lyre of Orpheus (Cornish Trilogy, #3))
Filming started in Hong Kong in the summer of 1974, and that’s when I met my two lovely Swedish leading ladies: Maud Adams and Britt Ekland, whom I affectionately christened Mud and Birt. Well, it’s easier to say, isn’t it? Dennis Sellinger – my agent as well as Britt’s – did a very good selling job on Britt. Cubby always liked his leading ladies to be rather ‘well-endowed’. He was, as we say in the trade, ‘a tits man’. Dennis sent Cubby a copy of Britt’s latest film, The Wicker Man, in which she appears nude and was, by the way, pregnant. She was also body-doubled for another nude sequence, or rather I should say ‘arse doubled’. Britt is the first to admit that this particular posterior double was much bigger than she was. Cubby, of course, knew nothing of all this and got rather excited on both fronts, so to say, and agreed to her casting. By the time we started filming – a year after she had given birth – Britt’s breasts were significantly reduced in size and her bum was nothing like the one he’d seen on screen. While I know Cubby loved Britt dearly, I can’t help but think he felt just a little deflated when he saw her on set that first day.
Roger Moore (My Word is My Bond: The Autobiography)
Fear less, hope more; eat less, chew more; whine less, breathe more; talk less, say more; love more, and all good things will be yours.” —Swedish proverb
Rachel Jonat (Do Less: A Minimalist Guide to a Simplified, Organized, and Happy Life)
Having committed this to memory, he reflected how deluded he’d been to believe he had left his past behind and become a peaceful Swedish citizen called Erik Johansson. Within a matter of hours, he’d reverted to the dedicated operative preparing a cover story without a second thought. A few hours too late, he thought bitterly. He’d meant to investigate Claire’s past when they had met as a matter of routine, but he’d been swept up by the thrill of new love and before he had managed to catch his breath she’d become pregnant and all his remaining caution and tradecraft had deserted him, his mind preoccupied with the prospect of bringing a new life into the world.
Jeremy Duns (Spy Out the Land)
The late nineteenth century witnessed the rise of Finnish-language schools and university education, something which mounted a direct challenge to the traditional dominance of Swedish. The result was a nationalist reaction by conservative ‘Svenomans’ who attempted to preserve the status of the Swedish minority. During World War I, they collaborated with the Germans, leading to a 1,900-strong Finland-Swede battalion being trained in Germany.
Edward Dutton (The Silent Rape Epidemic: How the Finns Were Groomed to Love Their Abusers)
One day we passed a gas station with a bunch of velvet Elvises hanging over clotheslines. He nodded once. “Pop stars may set the world afire, but they come and go. They’re a flash in the pan. So are their songs. But good hymns? They live past the people who wrote them. Hymns never die.” He looked down at me. “How many Grammys did Elvis win?” I shrugged. “Two.” He palmed the sweat off his face. “For what song?” Another shrug. Dad loved the history of music. And he loved to share it. “In the mid-1880s,” he began, “a Swedish preacher named Boberg wrote and published a poem. No music. Just words. A few years later he attended a meeting and heard his poem sung back to him, attached to an old Swedish melody. Nobody really knows how or who put the two together. Then in the 1920s, a missionary named
Charles Martin (Long Way Gone)
HEJ HEJ! CAFÉ MENU RULLEKEBAB Original (Rullekebab)----shaved seasoned beef, fresh flatbread, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, kebab sauce Blue Kebab (Rullekebab med blåmögelost)----Original Rullekebab with blue cheese Shroom Kebab (Rullekebab med champinjoner)----Original Rullekebab with mushrooms Hej Hej! Special Rullekebab----Original Rullekebab with pineapple, blue cheese, jalapeños HAMBURGARE Hand-patted, local grass-fed beef, homemade buns The Classic----beef, choice of cheese, bun The Gettysburg----caramelized shallots, mushrooms, blue cheese, bacon, balsamic glaze The Farfar----two patties, four slices of American cheese, four pieces of bacon The Gruff Burger----goat cheese, fries (on top!), caramelized shallots, poutine gravy to dip The Valedictorian----pepper-jack cheese, bacon, guacamole (from Rosa's) POMMES FRITES Fresh-cut fries Plain----with cheese or gravy to dip Loaded Kebab Fries----fresh-cut fries, chopped kebab meat, red and white kebab sauces, crumbled feta, diced jalapeños and tomatoes Goat Cheese Poutine----fresh-cut fries, house-made gravy, goat cheese crumbles MUNKAR Äpple Munk----fresh donut, cinnamon sugar, filled w/ apple and sweet cream Bär Munk----fresh donut, sugar, seasonal berry jam, sweet cream Munkhål----baby donuts (holes), cinnamon sugar Special Munk----daily and seasonal specials CUPCAKES Vanilla Wedding Cake, Devil's Food, Lemon, Strawberry Cheesecake, Weekly Specials SEASONAL TREATS Homemade Apple Crisp à la Mode Apple Fritters Pumpamunk Saffron Buns
Jared Reck (Donuts and Other Proclamations of Love)
We stuck with the traditional Äpple Munk and the favorite munkhål, but we also added a seasonal one I'd been working on in Mrs. Bixler's room during this dramatic lull in school-apple leftovers. I'd perfected a pumpkin cream cheese filling to go with a cinnamon sugar coating. It was like if pumpkin pie and donuts had a baby, and that baby turned out to be the Chosen One from the prophecy. Pumpamunk.
Jared Reck (Donuts and Other Proclamations of Love)
HAMBURGARE Hand-patted, local grass-fed beef, homemade buns ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- POMMES FRITES Fresh-cut fries ---- ---- ---- MUNKAR ---- ---- ---- ----
Jared Reck (Donuts and Other Proclamations of Love)
A loved one wishes to inherit nice things from you. Not all things from you.
Margareta Magnusson (The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning)
I get straight to work preparing my yeast, mixing it with a splash of milk and warming it in a pan as an image of a Swedish cardamom twist comes into my head. With its elaborate plaiting, it's like a cinnamon roll but more complex. I love a bread tied in knots. I'll make mine savory. That will be interesting. I turn off the burner and rush to my designated sage-green refrigerator on the side of the tent. It's stocked to the brim, stuffed full of fresh produce, exotic fruits, and dairy from local farms. I get to work, sorting through my options. What is this? Spring onion? No, chives. That'll be perfect. I'll dice them and mix them with olive oil, so they crisp up in the cracks of the bread, along with some mature cheddar. I dig deeper in the dairy compartment and find a log of expensive goat cheese. Even better! Then I'll add a ton of fresh-ground black pepper and top with some flaky sea salt. My mouth is already watering. Pair a few of these freshly baked buns with a crisp, mineral white and aperitvo is served!
Jessa Maxwell (The Golden Spoon)
We should never forget that everything we have and all the people we love will disappear at some point. This is something we should keep in mind, but without giving into pessimism. Being aware of the impermanence of things does not have to make us sad; it should help us love the present moment and those who surround us.
Héctor García (Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life / The Little Book of Lykke / Lagom: The Swedish Art of Balanced Living)
In dissolving my marriage, I had made things harder for myself, had indeed made them unreasonably difficult – that fact was never lost on me. But I had also negotiated for the most precious commodity on the marketplace of motherhood: time. I remember reading a comment from a Swedish feminist while I was in college. She said that the only hope for achieving parity in the home was through divorce. That had begun to feel true. I pay in pain, but I am free.
Nina Renata Aron (Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls: A Memoir of Women, Addiction, and Love)
All languages that derive from Latin form the word “compassion” by combining the prefix meaning “with” (com-) and the root meaning “suffering” (Late Latin, passio). In other languages—Czech, Polish, German, and Swedish, for instance—this word is translated by a noun formed of an equivalent prefix combined with the word that means “feeling” (Czech, sou-cit; Polish, współ-czucie; German, Mit-gefühl; Swedish, med-känsla). In languages that derive from Latin, “compassion” means: we cannot look on coolly as others suffer; or, we sympathize with those who suffer. Another word with approximately the same meaning, “pity” (French, pitié; Italian, pietà; etc.), connotes a certain condescension towards the sufferer. “To take pity on a woman” means that we are better off than she, that we stoop to her level, lower ourselves. That is why the word “compassion” generally inspires suspicion; it designates what is considered an inferior, second-rate sentiment that has little to do with love. To love someone out of compassion means not really to love. In languages that form the word “compassion” not from the root “suffering” but from the root “feeling,” the word is used in approximately the same way, but to contend that it designates a bad or inferior sentiment is difficult. The secret strength of its etymology floods the word with another light and gives it a broader meaning: to have compassion (co-feeling) means not only to be able to live with the other’s misfortune but also to feel with him any emotion—joy, anxiety, happiness, pain. This kind of compassion (in the sense of soucit, współczucie, Mitgefühl, medkänsla) therefore signifies the maximal capacity of affective imagination, the art of emotional telepathy. In the hierarchy of sentiments, then, it is supreme.
Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)
You can have a kid. You can have a wife, and a family. And yes, they might hurt you. We eventually lose everyone we love. That doesn’t mean we should just stop trying.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
Let people love who they want, it shouldn’t be this hard.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
I get it. She hurt you. You lost your family, and everyone you love. That doesn’t mean you’ll never love anyone again. The only person who’s keeping you from having a family is you, now, Cole. You, pushing everyone away, trying to scare off people that care about you, isolating yourself in the damn Arctic Circle just so you never have to make eye contact with a woman again.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
He loves problem-solving. I guess that’s what makes him such a good doctor. I’m personally of the opinion that when a gorgeous girl ends up in your house, you shouldn’t question it.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
She’s dead, and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
Why shouldn’t I kiss the men I love?
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
Sometimes, I can’t believe this is my life. I can’t believe I got this lucky. I’m surrounded by love all the time. It cocoons me. It wraps me up and keeps me safe and warm. Our relationship is unconventional, but it’s the best relationship I can imagine. And I’ve never been happier.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
No. I’m not going to sleep with you. You think I want to sleep with a guy who’s too much of a damn coward to kiss me on the mouth?” His grip tightens on me. “I’m not a coward,” he says, his voice dangerously low. “So prove it! Pull yourself together and move on! Let yourself get out of this relationship with a ghost! There are people all over the planet who would want you in their family. Who would love you, Cole, if you just let them in—” He cuts me off with his mouth.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
I love storms. They make life so much simpler. Or it did. The girl won’t stop laughing.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
Fear less, hope more; eat less, chew more; whine less, breathe more; talk less, say more; love more, and all good things will be yours.”~ Swedish Proverb
Jamie C. Martin (Mindset for Moms: From Mundane to Marvelous Thinking in Just 30 Days)
The decorative arms race finally caved in under the sheer absurdity of Augustus the Strong (1670–1733), the Elector of Saxony who, with money pouring in from his hideous porcelain factory and from defrauding the Poles (whose king through chicanery he had become), decided to go for broke. When many of his contemporaries were sharpening up and reforming their armies, he spent much of his revenue on mistresses, lovely palaces and daft trinkets. He was aided in this last aim by the services of the great Badenese goldsmith Johann Melchior Ding-linger, who blew astounding sums making such monstrosities as a giant cup made from a block of polished chalcedony, dripping with coloured enamels and metals and balanced on stag horns, or creating repulsive little statues of dwarves by decorating mutant pearls, or a mad but magnificent object called The Birthday of the Grand Mogul Aurangzeb in which dozens of tiny figures made from precious stones and metals fill the tiny court of the Mogul, itself made from all kinds of spectacular and rare stuff. This delirious thing (not paid for by Augustus for many years as the money sort of ran out when a Swedish invasion swept through a virtually undefended Saxony) simply ended the tradition. Looking at it today in the head-spinning Green Vault in Dresden, Dinglinger’s fantasy seems a long way from the relative, bluff innocence of a yellowy whale tooth in a little display box – but it was the same tradition endlessly elaborated. Aside
Simon Winder (Germania)
The first time Avis knelt on a chair and stirred eggs into flour to make a vanilla cake, she had an inkling of how higher orders of meaning encircle the chaos of life. Where philosophy, she already intuited, created only thought- no beds made, no children fed- in other rooms there were good things like measuring spoons, thermometers, and recipes, with their lovely, interwoven systems and codes. Avis labored over her pastries: her ingredient base grew, combining worlds: preserved lemons from Morocco in a Provencal tart; Syrian olive oil in Neapolitan cantuccini; salt combed from English marshes and filaments of Kashmiri saffron secreted within a Swedish cream. By the time Avis was in college, her baking had evolved to a level of exquisite accomplishment: each pastry as unique as a snowflake, just as fleeting on the tongue: pellucid jams colored cobalt and lavender, biscuits light as eiderdown.
Diana Abu-Jaber (Birds of Paradise)
I think I love all of you,” I say quietly. There’s no I think about it. I know I do. I just don’t know what the hell to do about it.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
Then one night at Buttercup’s he met this Swedish woman, Birgit, who was famous for her glass. She had dropped in to look over the brothers. She and Marcus found their affinity immediately. Both of them were serious, both were seeking, both were extraordinarily stupid. But she taught him brotherly love. She was hipped on brotherly love. Although it didn’t mean the same thing to her as it did to him. She had had a number of brothers as lovers and in time she had become enthusiastic about brotherly love. But Marcus had the vision of Brotherhood.
Chester Himes (Blind Man with a Pistol (Harlem Cycle, #8))
Fear less, hope more; Eat less, chew more; Whine less, breathe more; Talk less, say more; Love more, and all good things will be yours Swedish Proverb
M. Prefontaine (501 Quotes About Love: Funny, Inspirational and Romantic Quotes (Quotes For Every Occasion Book 8))
I går kväll träffade jag en kille som gjorde mig lycklig. I morse förklarade mina föräldrar hur fel jag hade. Hur fel jag är som blir kär i killar
Callum Bloodworth (Berätta tre saker)
You have to be kidding.” Chuck stabbed one of the Swedish meatballs on his plate and gave Hallie a look. “This could not have actually happened.” “Which part don’t you believe?” Hallie asked her best friend as she dipped one of her french fries into ketchup.
Lynn Painter (The Love Wager (Mr. Wrong Number, #2))
Meditation is the beginning of freedom, freedom from politics, freedom from religion and freedom from bondage. It is to enter into universality. A meditator is not identified with a certain country He is not Swedish, Indian or American, he is simply human. He is not white or black, because he is not the body. He is not Christian, Hindu or Mohammedan, because ideology belongs to the mind and meditation is to transcend the mind. All social forces are against individual freedom. Society destroys individuals, so one has to know the strategy to escape from the prison of society and the church. Meditation is the way to come out of the prison, and learn the language of freedom. It changes your consciousness, it changes how you see things. And the freedom that has always been within you become released, which changes you at your very roots.
Swami Dhyan Giten (Man is Part of the Whole: Silence, Love, Joy, Truth, Compassion, Freedom and Grace)
Meditation is the beginning of freedom, freedom from politics, freedom from religion and freedom from bondage. It is to enter into universality. A meditator is not identified with a certain country. He is not Swedish, Indian or American, he is simply human. He is not white or black, because he is not the body. He is not Christian, Hindu or Mohammedan, because ideology belongs to the mind and meditation is to transcend the mind. All social forces are against individual freedom. Society destroys individuals, so one has to know the strategy to escape from the prison of society and the church. Meditation is the way to come out of the prison, and learn the language of freedom. It changes your consciousness, it changes how you see things. And the freedom that has always been within you become released, which changes you at your very roots.
Swami Dhyan Giten (Man is Part of the Whole: Silence, Love, Joy, Truth, Compassion, Freedom and Grace)
Hur hänger hans efternamn ihop med de känslor jag har eller inte har för honom?
Marc Levy
Swedish
Mohammed Zaki Ansari ("Zaki's Gift Of Love")
Swedish society is mentally Sick. They need to burn their hypocrisy, selfishness, ego, and their radical intolerance mindset rather than quran
Mohammed Zaki Ansari ("Zaki's Gift Of Love")
Who?” “Bill Judd Jr.” “Oh, noooo.” Round, Swedish oooo’s. “Miz Sweet, when we were going through Judd Sr.’s office, we found some invoices on your computer, for chemicals that were apparently used in an ethanol plant out in South Dakota…” “I heard about it on TV. That was the same one? The one where they were making drugs?” “Yes, it was,” Virgil said. “Oh, nooo.” The sound was driving him crazy; she sounded like a bad comedian. “Who in town knew about the ethanol plant?” She turned her face to one side and put a hand to her lips. “Well, the Judds, of course.” “Both of them?” Virgil asked. “Well…Junior set it up, but Senior knew about it.” He pressed. “Are you sure about that?” “Well, yes. He signed the checks.” “Did you see him signing the checks?” Virgil asked. “No, but I saw the checks. It was his signature…” “Do you remember the bank?” She shook her head. “No, no, I don’t.” She frowned. “I’m not even sure that the bank name was on the checks.” “Did you ever talk to Junior about that?” “No. It wasn’t my business,” she said. “They wanted to keep it quiet, because, you know, when ethanol started, it sounded a little like the Jerusalem artichoke thing. The Judds were involved in that, of course.” “So how quiet did they keep it?” Virgil asked. “Who else knew? Did you tell anybody?” He saw it coming, the noooo. “Oh, noooo…Junior told me, don’t talk about this, because of my father. So, I didn’t.” “Not to anybody?” Her eyes drifted. She was thinking, which meant that she had. “It’s possible…my sister, I might have told. I think there might have been some word around town.” “It’s really important that you remember…” She put her hand to her temple, as though she were going to move a paper clip with telekinesis, and said, “I might have mentioned it at bridge. At our bridge club. That a plant was being built, and some local people were involved.” “All right,” Virgil said. “So who was at the bridge club?” “Well, let me see, there would have been nine or ten of us…” She listed them; he only recognized one of the names. WHEN HE WAS DONE with Sweet, he strolled up the hill to the newspaper office. He pushed in, and found Williamson behind the business counter, talking to a woman customer. Williamson looked past the woman and snapped, “What do you want?” “I have a question, when you’re free.” “Wait.” Williamson was wearing a T-shirt and had sweat stains under his arms, as though he’d been lifting rocks. “Take just a minute.” The customer was trying to dump her Beanie Baby collection locally—ten years too late, in Virgil’s opinion—and wanted the cheapest possible advertisement. She got twenty words for six dollars, looking back and forth between Virgil and Williamson, and after writing a check for the amount, said to Virgil, “I’d love to hear your question.” Virgil looked at her over his sunglasses and grinned: “I’d love to have you, but I’m afraid it’s gotta be private, for the moment.” “Shoot.” She looked at Williamson, who shrugged, and she said, “Oh, well.” WHEN SHE’D GONE out the door, Williamson said, “I’m working. You can ask me out back.” “You still pissed about the search?
John Sandford (Dark Of The Moon (Virgil Flowers, #1))
Once, for example, on a train going across Canada, I began talking to a man everyone was avoiding because he was weaving and slurring his speech as if drunk. It turned out that he was recovering from a stroke. He had been an engineer on the same line we were riding, and long into the night he revealed to me the history beneath every mile of track: Pile O’Bones Creek, named for the thousands of buffalo skeletons left there by Indian hunters; the legend of Big Jack, a Swedish track-layer who could lift 500-pound steel rails; a conductor named McDonald who kept a rabbit as his traveling companion. As the morning sun began to tint the horizon, he grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes. “Thanks for listening. Most people wouldn’t bother.” He didn’t have to thank me. The pleasure had been all mine.
Jack Canfield (Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul: Stories of Life, Love and Learning)
THE INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER THE Royal Physician’s Visit PER OLOV ENQUIST Translated from the Swedish by Tiina Nunnally Set in Denmark in the 1760s, The Royal Physician’s Visit magnificently recasts the dramatic era of Danish history when Johann Friedrich Struensee, a German doctor from Altona, student of Enlightenment philosophers Diderot and Voltaire, and court physician to mad young King Christian, stepped through the aperture history had opened for him and became for two years the holder of absolute power in Denmark. Dr. Struensee, tall, handsome, and charismatic, introduced hundreds of reforms, many of which would become hallmarks of the French Revolution twenty years later, including freedom of the press and improvement of the treatment of the peasantry. He also took young Queen Caroline Mathilde—unsatisfied by her unstable, childlike husband—as his mistress. He was a brilliant intellectual and brash reformer, yet Struensee lacked the cunning and subtlety of a skilled politician and, most tragically, lacked the talent to choose the right enemies at court, a flaw which would lead to his torture and execution. An international sensation sold in twenty countries, The Royal Physician’s Visit is a view from the seat of absolute power, a gripping tale, vividly and entertainingly told. Enquist’s talent is in full force as he brilliantly explores the connections that will always run between political theory and practice, power, sex, love, and the life of the mind. “A great book, a powerful book—it effortlessly and self-confidently surmounts the standard works of fiction.” —Die Zeit “Incomparably exciting in its uncompromising lucidity and at the same time unsettling.” —Suddeutsche Zeitung “Time and time again the story takes to the air on the wings of fantasy … a magnificent adventure.” —Upsala Nya Tidning “The erotic scenes are among the most beautiful I have read in modern literature.” —Kvällsposten
Per Olov Enquist (The Royal Physician's Visit)
I don’t need to convince a guy that he should be with me. He should want me out of his own free will because I am his next breath. As cynical as I am about relationships, when I do fall, I want the whole love affair. I don’t want to settle for less.
R.C. Stephens (Dirty Swedish Player (Big Stick, #3))
That whatever is useful is worthy of respect, all women realize; that whatever is beautiful is worthy of being loved, many realize; but that the only thing worth striving for is harmony between the useful and the beautiful—how many realize that? ELLEN KEY
Anna Brones (Live Lagom: Balanced Living, the Swedish Way)
It is more blissful to give than to receive.
Swedish Proverb
He drank, gambled, drove his car down embankments, got fired, quit, retired, traveled in disguise to Coaltown where he paid a woman to speak Swedish to him as they screwed. It was the Swedish that enrage Babette, either that or his need to confess it, and she hit out at him - hit out with the backs of her hands, with her elbows and wrists. Old loves, old fears.
Don DeLillo (White Noise)
What's a lingonberry?" "It's a fruit that grows in the forest, in Sweden. You've probably had lingonberry jam at your grandmother's house. We always had it when I was growing up; like other kids had grape jam, we had lingonberry. Your grandmother always used to say lingonberry jam is like Swedish summer in a jar. The Swedes love their lingonberries. It's not so sweet, sort of like cranberry sauce.
Sandra Lee (The Recipe Box)
My baby sister, Janet, kept us all occupied with her antics. She could climb out of any enclosure and I actually found her on top of a bookcase one day. I gave her the nickname “Sweet Pea” after the character in the Popeye cartoon strip who possessed similar talents. She was a bundle of nervous energy and liked to tear out her pretty blonde hair in bunches, smiling all the while. I think she enjoyed all the attention from all of her supervisors. Thanksgiving was soon upon us, the time when Grandma would take out all her recipes and spices from a large Oriental tin she kept for the holiday seasons. I especially loved her Swedish Spritz Cookies pressed from a cookie press. Grandma took out the cookie sheets and said, “Carol Ann, you be in charge of the nonpareils. Linda, you can sprinkle the red and green sugar on the cookies after I press them out.” “Where did you get this recipe, Grandma?” “In Sweden, actually. I’ll tell you all about it as we bake. After only a three-year stay in Washington, during which Mr. Bliss was assigned to two different positions: first to the Washington, D.C. Conference on the Limitation of Armaments and then as Chairman of the Diplomatic Service Board of Engineers, President Warren Harding finally made Mr. Bliss, a lifelong Republican, the Ambassador to Sweden.
Carol Ann P. Cote (Downstairs ~ Upstairs: The Seamstress, The Butler, The "Nomad Diplomats" and Me -- A Dual Memoir)
Vissa säger att kärlek är att hitta sin andra hälft. Finna den som ska komplettera en, göra en hel, göra två till ett. Det tror inte jag. Jag säger att kärlek är att finna sin like, sin tvilling, sin backup. Finna den som gör en dubbel, som gör en till två och gör det omöjligt att någonsin mera vara ensam.
Jonas Brun (Skuggland)
The nest is made of butter-poached mushrooms," Hampus was saying. Henry had been so busy fuming he'd missed Chef Martinet's first bite of Hampus's dish: creamy scrambled eggs spilling out of eggshells inside a nest that was, apparently made of butter-poached foraged mushrooms. It looked so much like a real bird's nest Henry could hardly believe it was mushrooms. "In Sweden, we like our scrambled eggs very, very creamy," Hampus continued. "I have added a simple salad of foraged dandelion greens to offset the richness of the dish." "This is inspired," Chef Martinet said. "You have made the mushroom the star.
Stephanie Kate Strohm (Love à la Mode)
JANSSON’S TEMPTATION SERVES 4 AS A SIDE DISH This is a rich, deeply satisfying, and fortifying potato dish with anchovies, leeks, and cream to round out the flavors. It’s origins are Scandinavian and it is a much loved Christmas dish there but will soon be a winter regular in your family any day of the month. I use garlic and leeks in my version, and although the Swedish recipe calls for sprats, most Americans preparing the dish use cured anchovies in oil. Some people prefer to use heavy cream, which is a bit rich for my tastes. During the baking the dairy reduces and gets richer, so I find that the half-and-half is plenty rich. 1 large leek, sliced 2 cloves garlic, sliced 1 pound (455 g) fingerling potatoes, thinly sliced 6 anchovies, roughly chopped Freshly ground black pepper 1 cup (240 ml) half-and-half, plus more as needed 1. Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). 2. In a small bowl, combine the leek and garlic. In a medium baking dish, layer the potatoes and leek–garlic mixture, sprinkling in the anchovies and black pepper as you go. Drizzle in the half-and-half. Bake for 1 hour, checking after 30 minutes to see how cooked the potatoes are by inserting a paring knife into them. Some areas will feel resistant to the knife, others softer and more cooked. Look also at how the cream is reducing. If it has cooked away, leaving too many exposed potatoes, turn down the temperature to 350°F (175°C) and perhaps add a splash of half-and-half to slow down the cooking. The dish is done when a knife passes easily through the potatoes and there are golden brown patches on top.
Peter Hoffman (What's Good?: A Memoir in Fourteen Ingredients)
Universe to give me a sign that I am on the right path. The sign I asked… First of all, I would like to thank Rhonda and 부산오피 everyone involved, as well as everyone who wrote “The Secret” stories posted here, as they have inspired me and propelled me forward in my journey. I am a college senior engaged to my boyfriend of 6 years, but for some reason, I felt very unfulfilled… This story is nothing short of a miracle, and I hope it gives everyone who is reading this hope and faith. My girlfriend, who is the most perfect girl for me and makes me the happiest man alive, broke up with me because her parents wanted her to get married, and she, too, wanted to… I cannot thank you enough for sharing The Secret with the world as it has fully changed my life and state of mind I have a story to share. The secret says learn how to use it, start off with asking for small desires that you want in your life, whether it be a cup… I have been a believer since I was a child, and ‘The Secret’ completely changed my life. It strengthened my faith and helped me connect more with my higher self. It made me a positive and grateful person, something that I was not aware of before. I did not realize how much I lacked gratitude…. The first thing I would like to do is to thank Rhonda and the Universe for bringing this amazing reality into my life. I can’t begin to describe the ways in which my life has changed in the two years since learning about The Secret. And to anyone losing faith, as I have many times,… I am a young Swedish woman who loves her job. I have a loving family, and I am in love with a handsome and generous man who always puts his 부산op loved ones first. This is my story and it is just the beginning. I had given The Secret a few tries over the last few… Laugh it out. My first goal was 부산출장마사지 to get into welding school, and I just signed up too late, but I’m starting in January. My second goal was to make 65k by age 20, and I am 18. My third goal was to get a really good part-time job. So five weeks later, out of… I asked my husband to watch The Secret last year. He found it liberating, and it really shifted his point of view. Fast 부산오피 forward to today. He was reorganizing his home office as he got a new monitor for work and is bringing two of his old ones into the office for his new hybrid job…. My secret story. For more than five years, The Secret has been in the back of my mind, but I really began to use it to influence and guide my life a little over a year ago. I had moved to a new city to escape painful 부산op memories of a life and relationship gone sour… I am extremely excited to share my story and I am so very grateful for the opportunity to do so here. I come from a poor family, and my father worked as an operator in a sugar factory. I always dreamed of having a good job and a good salary. So, I used the law… Hi guys, First of all, I want to say thank you to God and Jesus Christ for making this dream possible. Thank you to Ma’am Rhonda Byrne, The Secret team, and everyone who shares their inspiring stories. I want to share how I got my architect license that I always wanted ever since 부산출장마사지 I was…
부산오피 오피쓰.ᴄᴏᴍ 부산오피 부산출장마사지 부산오피 부산ᴏᴘ
I think it’s dumb. Let people love who they want, it shouldn’t be this hard.
Lily Gold (Three Swedish Mountain Men)
The Times 2 July 1952 WAS BRITISH BARONESS WORKING FOR THE NAZIS IN PARIS? By Philip Bing-Wallace It was alleged that Baroness Freya Saumures (who claimed to be of Swedish descent but is a British subject) was one of the many women that entertained the Gestapo and SS during the occupation of Paris, a jury was told. At the baroness’s trial today, the Old Bailey heard Daniel Merrick-James QC, prosecuting council, astonish the jury by revealing that Baroness Freya Saumures allegedly worked with the Nazis throughout the Nazi occupation of Paris. There was a photograph of a woman in a headscarf and dark glasses, alongside a tall dark-haired man who had a protective arm around her, his face shielded by his hand. A description beneath the image read: Baroness Saumures with her husband, Baron Ferdinand Saumures, outside the Old Bailey after her acquittal. Alec could not see her face fully, but the picture of the baron, even partially obscured, certainly looked very like the man lying dead in the Battersea Park Road crypt. Alec read on. When Mr Merrick-James sat, a clerk of the court handed the judge, Justice Henry Folks, a note. The judge then asked the court to be cleared. Twenty minutes later, the court was reconvened. Justice Folks announced to the jury that the prosecution had dropped all charges and that Lady Saumures was acquitted. There was no explanation for the acquittal. The jury was dismissed with thanks. Neither Baron nor Baroness Saumures had any comment. Baron and Baroness Saumures live in West Sussex and are well known to a select group for their musical evenings and events. They are also well known for protecting their privacy. Alec rummaged on. It was getting close to lunchtime and his head was beginning to ache.
Hugo Woolley (The Wasp Trap (The Charlotte's War Trilogy Book 3))
All night long Alec sat in his chair in his pyjamas and dressing gown, socks on his feet to keep out the cold, a cigarette in his fingers with a long ash hovering over a half-full ashtray. He attempted to go to bed but the incident with Father Joe kept his mind in turmoil. This girl, well, woman now – she would be around thirty – was a mystery during the war. She was kidnapped, it was thought, from her school, the day the Germans entered Paris. Her uncle, Sir Jason Barrett MP, was in England; her step-parents were somewhere else in France, on holiday, and found they could not get back; and Charlotte was being cared for by a Swedish couple, a nanny or housekeeper and her chauffeur husband. Was Charlotte actually Freya? What had this baron fellow to do with Freya, apart from marrying her? Had she been a prostitute? And what was the old cleric babbling on about “finding her and protecting her”? From whom?
Hugo Woolley (The Wasp Trap (The Charlotte's War Trilogy Book 3))
Valentine's day and its Welsh counterpart St. Dynwen's Day are days of love and romance and an ideal time for the gift of a lovespoon. The spoon need not be overly ornate, but it does need to be romantic. This is the occasion when simply designed but meaningful spoons along the lines of the Swedish feeler spoon are appropriate.
David Western (History of Lovespoons: The Art and Traditions of a Romantic Craft (Fox Chapel Publishing) Comprehensive Guide to History, Artifacts, Symbol Significance, Spoon Detail, and More with 250 Color Photos)