Unstoppable Love Quotes

Your love makes me strong, your hate makes me unstoppable.

As long as we’re together, that’s how we’ll be. No trembling. No faltering. We’re unstoppable.

You could love me, you know." He's smiling a strange sort of smile. "We would be unstoppable. We would change the world. I could make you happy." he says to me.

Easily mistaken, it is not about a love for adversity, it is about knowing a strength and a faith so great that adversity, in all its adverse manifestations, hardly even exists.

Love is selfish. Love is raw. Love is unfair, and unpredictable, and unstoppable.

When certain parts of our bodies are touched, certain enzymes and chemicals that trigger sexual desire are released into our system. The more our bodies are stimulated, the more chemicals are released and the greater our sexual desire grows until it becomes a virtually unstoppable flood.

It means that two people start loving each other. I guess because it can feel really sudden and because it's powerful. Like gravity--an unstoppable force.

Dan didn’t want to say anything, but the words were unstoppable. “I fucking love you. Don’t leave me. You’ve got to find me.” Again, fucking tears. Vadim shook his head, then pressed his face into the crook of Dan’s shoulder, hoped to hide his weakness and felt like a man condemned to die. “I will... find you. If it’s the last thing I’ll do, I’ll come back. Nothing will stop me.

I believe there are only two unstoppable forces in the universe. One is love, the other is intelligence. I also believe that a person's capacity to love is directly related to their intelligence level, just as hate corresponds to a person's level of ignorance. The only thing that makes it impossible for the system to destroy you and grind your spirit into nothing is to be more intelligent than it is.

The mindset of loss of a loved one is to understand that the loss will never be undone. You must live with it, like it or not. But, to live well, you must turn that loss into something positive. That way, you can become the best version of yourself; scarred, flawed and unstoppable

I’m not telling you to love it. I’m telling you to crave the result so intensely that the work is irrelevant.

So, so you made a lot of mistakes Walked down the road a little sideways Cracked a rib when you hit the wall Yeah, you've had a pocket full of regrets Pull you down faster than a sunset Hey, it happens to us all When the cold hard rain just won't quit And you can't see your way out of it You find your faith has been lost and shaken You take back what's been taken Get on your knees and dig down deep You can do what you think is impossible Keep on believing, don't give in It'll come and make you whole again It always will, it always does Love is unstoppable

You’ve got it all wrong, baby. Loving you doesn’t make me weak. It makes me unstoppable.

he was immune to pain, an unstoppable machine of muscle and sinew.

Love was borne out of my eyes... ...sank into my heart... ...and lay sleeping there. I was scared to know that...that such feelings exist in me. But it's those feelings...that put me into motion. With an unstoppable force.

At first it's bliss. It's drunken, heady, intoxicating. It swallows the people we were - not particuarly wonderful people, but people who did our best, more or less - and spits out the monsters we are becoming. Our friends despise us. We are an epic. Everything is grand, crashing, brilliant, blinding. It's the Golden Age of Hollywood, and we are a legend in our own minds, and no one outside can fail to see that we are headed for hell, and we won't listen, we say they don't understand, we pour more wine, go to the parties, we sparkle, fly all over the country, we're on an adventure, unstoppable, we've found each other and we race through our days like Mr. Toad in his yellow motorcar, with no idea where the brakes are and to hell with it anyway, we are on fire, drunk with something we call love.

Together, the two began the kind of conversation that flows seamlessly, unstoppably, each fork begetting another branch of common interest, a conversation that continues until this day.

If we, as women, embrace each other we will be unstoppable. We must stand together and be counted as one. As one we are strong. As one we are tough. As one we can challenge what the future holds. As one we are survivors. As one we have unbelievable courage. As one we can face any obstacle. As one we are centered and balanced. As one we will transform the world. As one we are pioneers and trailblazers. As one our opportunities are endless.

A woman’s strength is unstoppable as she takes on the loads she is given in life. We, as women, shouldn’t ever underestimate our ability. We are warriors, and if it wasn’t for our great strength of perseverance, what would the world be like today? We have to learn how to put ourselves first. We have to stop cheating ourselves by putting other people’s needs first, and our needs and wants last.

True love can be overwhelming, and sometimes painful. It is a kaleidoscope of emotions, all sorts of different colours blending together into one. It's gravity so powerful - an unstoppable force. True love is a natural muse; you will puzzle over it, dream about it, and be lost in it. It consumes you wholeheartedly.

Tearing through the room like an F5 tornado of hyperactive joy was Taylor Hawkins, my brother from another mother, my best friend, a man for whom I would take a bullet. Upon first meeting, our bond was immediate, and we grew closer with every day, every song, every note that we ever played together. I am not afraid to say that our chance meeting was a kind of love at first sight, igniting a musical “twin flame” that still burns to this day. Together, we have become an unstoppable duo, onstage and off, in pursuit of any and all adventure we can find. We are absolutely meant to be, and I am grateful that we found each other in this lifetime.

Are we rich?" "We're unstoppable.

Your life may seem mundane and ordinary to you, but there are many people out there who would love to have a less complicated life.

But Ma says everyone deserves forgiveness. That's why if Ma was a color, she'd be pink with her sweetness. A tender flower, a bubbly pop of chewing gum, two scoops of strawberry ice cream. Silly in her girly ways, her color deepens with love, until she glows fuchsia - bright and bold, unstoppable. But when she is not fed the riches that life promises, Ma pales, reaming but a tint above white, a color aching in want." -Claudia

Without fail, a woman is always walking into the unknown. It seems as though it is so easy to blame and point the finger at a woman. What others fail to realize is that a woman might not always know what lies ahead of her, but she will always find a way to get through it. When she hits the ground, she will bounce right back up. The road may twist and turn; there will be a few steep hills and sharp curves, but she will never give up because she is unstoppable.

Suffering is the nature of this world. It is the golden standard by which all things are measured. It is not happiness that sets the bar, but agony. Even happiness cannot be fully recognized without the right measure of misery to contrast its borders. Suffering magnifies hunger-exhaustion-prods you to move when prosperity is just a dream out of reach. It is the mortal twin of eternal hope. How you respond to its touch molds you, shapes your future as it rains down oppression like fire over your shoulders. Deception. It laid over my world like a bruise. Covered it so completely I bought the lie that the shadow offered and found comfort nestled in its thorny arms. I walked the trail it dusted with breadcrumb, walked in the slip noose it had skillfully wove and dove off the cliff without realizing- willingly, with vigor. Heartbreak. There is no bigger void, no darker shade of soot- no ache more unstoppable than that of a broken heart. A heart in pieces can very much kill you-without love’s healing touch, you will surely die. They say time heals all wounds. They lied.

If there’s anything I’ve learned it’s that love is an unstoppable human drive, fierce and universal, and that sex is the physical manifestation of love. And that sex without love is missing the whole damn point. Sex brings us home to love.

someone asked: What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? and i said(object): i give up..!!!

Vivian Simon, I love you. But always know this,” he paused. “I pizz you. And no one else on this earth has that, baby,” he whispered.

As fragile as life can be, don’t let love and time crumble away when you can give someone your whole heart right now.

I was going to him because I loved him and because love is unstoppable.

I don't know how my mom was so unstoppable despite all that stuff happening. I dunno. Maybe it's anticipation. Hope. The anticipation that the God who listens in love will one day speak justice. The hope that some final fantasy will come to pass that will make everything sad untrue.

Lust is like a train with no brakes, unstoppable; love is like a warrior with no weaknesses, unconquerable.

Don’t be permissible. Be unstoppable.

Sometimes it feels like a strength and sometimes like a weakness, but I don’t know how to stop loving him

it’s almost as if her soul is a pack of wolves she’s brave, she’s strong she’s unstoppable

Your love makes me strong, your hate makes me unstoppable.

You really want to live in another world when you could be a king in this one?” Arlen asked me skeptically, crossing powerful arms over his chest. “This world doesn’t have Maddie in it,” I said. Raura said to Arlen, “I love him. He’s so cute. Why can’t you be more like him?

The plain truth is that you’d have an easier time standing in the middle of the Mississippi River and requesting that it flow backward than to expect people of different races and backgrounds to stop loving each other, stop marrying each other, stop starting families, stop enjoying the dreams that love inspires. Love is unstoppable. It is our greatest weapon, a natural force, created by God. I

Dear YOU, don’t compare yourself to ANYONE. Your Unique Self is empowered, powerful, and unstoppable! Your uniqueness is what makes you incomparable! Don’t underestimate the beauty of just being YOU.

I’ve come to realize that this soul deep kind of love is an unstoppable force. And while I understand that some things can’t be repaired, they can always be remade into something better. Something stronger and harder to break.

Mizzy has wandered into the garden. Carole looks contemplatively at him, says, "Lovely boy." "My wife's insanely younger brother. He's one of those kids with too much potential, if you know what I mean." "I know exactly what you mean." Further details would be redundant. Peter knows the Potters' story: the pretty, unstoppable daughter who's tearing through her Harvard doctorate versus the older child, the son, who has, it seems, been undone by his good fortune; who at thirty-eight is still surfing and getting stoned by way of occupations, currently in Australia.

He kisses Henry until it feels like he can't breathe, until it feels like he's going to forget both of their names and titles, until they're only two people tangles up in a dark room making a brilliant, epic, unstoppable mistake.

We had felt like a force of nature. Unstoppable. Destined. We thrived on the passion and confidence of youth that left no room for doubt. We loved each other. And in the ugly world we had inhabited, it was a light we had clung to.

Well, fuck a duck,” comes Morris’s delighted voice. I jerk in surprise, then spin around to glare at him for sneaking up on me from behind. Judging by the amusement dancing in his eyes, it’s obvious he peeked over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of the photo I’d been drooling over. “I was wondering how he’d pull that one off,” Morris remarks, still grinning like a fool. “Shouldn’t have doubted him, though. That dude is an unstoppable force of nature.” I narrow my eyes. “He told you about the picture?” “About the whole list, actually. We hung out last night—Lorris is close to taking over Brooklyn, by the way—and he was moaning and groaning about not being able to track down a red velvet couch.” Morris shrugs. “I offered to throw a red blanket on the sofa in my common room and take some pictures, but he said you’d consider that cheating and deprive him of your love.” Stifling a sigh, I shove the phone in my purse, then walk over to the mini-fridge across the room and grab a bottle of water. I twist off the cap, doing my best to ignore the sheer enjoyment Morris is getting out of this. “I wish I was gay,” he says ruefully. A snicker pops out. “Uh-huh. Go on. I’m willing to follow you down this rabbit hole and see where it leads.” “Seriously, Gretch, I love him. I have a boner for him.” Morris sighs. “If I’d known he existed, I wouldn’t have asked you out in the first place.” “Gee, thanks.” “Oh, shut up. You’re awesome, and I’d tap that in a second. But I can’t compete with this guy. He’s operating on a whole other level when it comes to you.

Every woman needs these three things: Self-Esteem, Self-Love, and Self-Confidence. A female that possess all three is an empowered and unstoppable Queen. She knows her worth! Everything about her represents quality. Her happiness comes from within, first. She respects herself. She values who she is. She’s not easily impressed or persuaded by people or things. She has purpose and direction! An admirable being is what she is: Extraordinary and highly desirable. She’s an Unparalleled Woman.

If you go through life with hope, you will have joyfulness. If you go through life with gratitude, you will be consumed by peace. If you go through life with love, you will feel empowered. If you go through life with God, you will become unstoppable.

Young love,” she said. “It doesn’t matter how old you get, you always remember it. You spend five minutes with someone and suddenly you never want to spend a moment apart. They become your sole focus and make you happier, more excited, and more inspired than anything before. They become your armor and give you strength and bravery and make you feel unstoppable. Life doesn’t seem so bad now that you have someone to share it with.

I realized that part of me had been waiting for Wendell to make a miraculous recovery. To rescue us all, as well as himself, just when we needed him most. It would fit the pattern of innumerable stories. But perhaps Wendell wasn't part of his kingdom's story anymore. Or he was, but merely as a footnote, a trial for his stepmother to overcome as she rose from powerful to unstoppable-- to irrevocably weave herself into the fabric of her world, as the king of Ljosland had. And if he was a footnote, what did that make me? I leaned close, breathing in the smell of his hair--- the salt of sweat; smoke from the fire; and the distant smell of green leaves that never left him. "My answer is yes," I whispered in his ear.

How long you and Vee been seeing each other?” Shane asked as he stood up. “About a month,” I shrugged. “That question earlier about falling in love? The one about how long it takes?” Shane said over his right shoulder as he pulled his hood over his head. “Yeah?” I responded. “Takes about a month, bro,” he said as he slapped my shoulder. As we approached our bikes, I pulled my key from my pocket. A month, huh? Well, it’s just about time I get that girl a pair of Chuck’s.

The real problem here is that we’re all dying. All of us. Every day the cells weaken and the fibres stretch and the heart gets closer to its last beat. The real cost of living is dying, and we’re spending days like millionaires: a week here, a month there, casually spunked until all you have left are the two pennies on your eyes. Personally, I like the fact we’re going to die. There’s nothing more exhilarating than waking up every morning and going ‘WOW! THIS IS IT! THIS IS REALLY IT!’ It focuses the mind wonderfully. It makes you love vividly, work intensely, and realise that, in the scheme of things, you really don’t have time to sit on the sofa in your pants watching Homes Under the Hammer. Death is not a release, but an incentive. The more focused you are on your death, the more righteously you live your life. My traditional closing-time rant – after the one where I cry that they closed that amazing chippy on Tollington Road; the one that did the pickled eggs – is that humans still believe in an afterlife. I genuinely think it’s the biggest philosophical problem the earth faces. Even avowedly non-religious people think they’ll be meeting up with nana and their dead dog, Crackers, when they finally keel over. Everyone thinks they’re getting a harp. But believing in an afterlife totally negates your current existence. It’s like an insidious and destabilising mental illness. Underneath every day – every action, every word – you think it doesn’t really matter if you screw up this time around because you can just sort it all out in paradise. You make it up with your parents, and become a better person and lose that final stone in heaven. And learn how to speak French. You’ll have time, after all! It’s eternity! And you’ll have wings, and it’ll be sunny! So, really, who cares what you do now? This is really just some lacklustre waiting room you’re only going to be in for 20 minutes, during which you will have no wings at all, and are forced to walk around, on your feet, like pigs do. If we wonder why people are so apathetic and casual about every eminently avoidable horror in the world – famine, war, disease, the seas gradually turning piss-yellow and filling with ringpulls and shattered fax machines – it’s right there. Heaven. The biggest waste of our time we ever invented, outside of jigsaws. Only when the majority of the people on this planet believe – absolutely – that they are dying, minute by minute, will we actually start behaving like fully sentient, rational and compassionate beings. For whilst the appeal of ‘being good’ is strong, the terror of hurtling, unstoppably, into unending nullity is a lot more effective. I’m really holding out for us all to get The Fear. The Fear is my Second Coming. When everyone in the world admits they’re going to die, we’ll really start getting some stuff done.

Well, one can't stop love, can one?

When the inevitable meets the unstoppable, that is where souls turn to lust...

When hardworkers get to do the thing they love, they're unstoppable!

Love. And no pit of death, or stench of battle could touch the fearsome, unstoppable force of that.

The poem’s called ‘Love Is Enough.’ As long as we’re together, that’s how we’ll be. No trembling. No faltering. We’re unstoppable.

Best surprise ever.” I whispered in his face. Then I leaned in and kissed him hard and deep like it was the last kiss I’d ever get. “Wrong darlin’, best hello ever.” He grinned

Listen, you've known her longer than I have, but this is a girl who loves people. She loves sunshine and human interaction and... well... She loves love.

Co-dependency is driven by the agreement that I will work harder on your problem and your life than you do. This is not love ~ Kylo

When we love someone, protecting what they want, even if it serves to take them away, is the greatest act of unconditional love.

Once you keep mastering your passion, the passion will get the ball rolling to ignite your life with an unstoppable passion.

Imagine, one day, waking up and BELIEVING we are so much stronger together than we are apart...and then BOOM! We become unstoppable!

Love, Oaks. Love. When you love someone, you feel invincible. Your strength becomes theirs, and you feed off each other until, eventually, you are unstoppable.

Ever loved someone so much you would do anything for them? Well make that someone yourself ~ Harvey Spectre

If you simply love yourself, just as you are, right where you are, you will become an unstoppable force for healing and transformation.

Why does most of your diet consist of cheese?” Liv opened the bag, inhaling the lovely scent of powdered dairy and spices. “I’m a cheesetarian.” “That’s not a thing,” Plato said dryly.

Liquor creates delusion. It can make your life feel full of risk and adventure, sparkling and dynamic as a rough sea under sunlight. A single drink can make you feel unstoppable, masterful, capable of solving problems that overwhelmed you just five minutes before. In fact, the opposite is true: drinking brings your life to a standstill, makes it static as rock over time.

I focus on only the things I have total control over: my effort and my attitude. 2. I love what I do and I attack each day with joy and enthusiasm. 3. I dream big and I ignore the naysayers.

the purpose of life is to find your true calling, to unleash your gifts, your unique experiences and all the lessons you have learned for the benefit of yourself, of those you love and the world around you.

Cleaners understand they don’t have to love the work to be successful; they just have to be relentless about achieving it, and everything else in between is a diversion and a distraction from the ultimate prize.

I have felt alone all my life. I was always too smart, or working too hard, or too full of doubt to fit in with everyone else. But when I’m with you, I never feel alone, Will. Never. I feel seen, and I feel listened to, and I feel important and cared for. When I first met you, I told myself I had to be insane to think that someone like you would be interested in someone like me. But it didn’t stop me from falling in love with you, because loving you is as easy and as natural as breathing for me. This may shock you, but my love doesn’t come with conditions or requirements. It absolutely doesn’t require physical exam, that is for sure. It just is, Will. And it’s unstoppable, because, believe me, I’ve tried to stop it. So I guess what I’m trying to say in my usual inarticulate, rambly, too-wordy way, is that I’m not going anywhere. No matter what.

To My Priestess Sisters To my priestess sisters: the keepers of mysteries, the medicine women, the story keepers and story tellers, the holy magicians, the wild warriors, the original ones, the ones who carry the ancients within the marrow of your bones, the ones forged in the fires, the ones who have bathed in thier own blood, the heroines who wear thier scars as stars, the ones who give birth to their visions and dreams, the ones who weep and howl upon the holy altars, the avatars, the mothers, maidens and crones, the mystics, the oracles, the artists, the musicians, the virgins, the sensual and sexual, the women of our world- I honor you. I stand for you and with you. I celebrate both your autonomy and our sisterhood of One. We are many. We are fierce. We are tender. We are the change agents and we are radically holding and clearing space for the bursting forth of the holy seeds of the collective conscience and consciousness. We are manifestors and flames of purification and transformation. We are living our lives in authenticity, vulnerability, transparency and unapologetically. We are committed to integrity, impeccability, accountability, responsibility and passionate love. We are here on purpose, with purpose and give no energy to conformity, acceptance or approval. We are the daughters of the earth and the courageous of the cosmos. Priestess, keep living your life passionately, raising the cosmic vibrations and lowering your standards for no one. You are brazenly blessed and a force of nature. Nurture yourself and one another. You are a crystalline bridge between realms and uniting heaven and earth. You are a priestess and you are divinely anointed, appointed and unstoppable.

she realized that that was how battles of the heart were won. Love confounds most, but when someone with an objective perspective points out the truth, it has the power to shatter the illusions that chain the heartbroken to the Earth.

You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You are a warrior, a survivor, and an unstoppable force! I love you as you are. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. You say you’re broken into a million pieces? I love every single one.

Hamish Alexander-Harrington knew his wife as only two humans who had both been adopted by a pair of mated treecats ever could. He'd seen her deal with joy and with sorrow, with happiness and with fury, with fear, and even with despair. Yet in all the years since their very first meeting at Yeltsin's Star, he suddenly realized, he had never actually met the woman the newsies called "the Salamander." It wasn't his fault, a corner of his brain told him, because he'd never been in the right place to meet her. Never at the right time. He'd never had the chance to stand by her side as she took a wounded heavy cruiser on an unflinching deathride into the broadside of the battlecruiser waiting to kill it, sailing to her own death, and her crew's, to protect a planet full of strangers while the rich beauty of Hammerwell's "Salute to Spring" spilled from her ship's com system. He hadn't stood beside her on the dew-soaked grass of the Landing City duelling grounds, with a pistol in her hand and vengeance in her heart as she faced the man who'd bought the murder of her first great love. Just as he hadn't stood on the floor of Steadholders' Hall when she faced a man with thirty times her fencing experience across the razor-edged steel of their swords, with the ghosts of Reverend Julius Hanks, the butchered children of Mueller Steading, and her own murdered steaders at her back. But now, as he looked into the unyielding flint of his wife's beloved, almond eyes, he knew he'd met the Salamander at last. And he recognized her as only another warrior could. Yet he also knew in that moment that for all his own imposing record of victory in battle, he was not and never had been her equal. As a tactician and a strategist, yes. Even as a fleet commander. But not as the very embodiment of devastation. Not as the Salamander. Because for all the compassion and gentleness which were so much a part of her, there was something else inside Honor Alexander-Harrington, as well. Something he himself had never had. She'd told him, once, that her own temper frightened her. That she sometimes thought she could have been a monster under the wrong set of circumstances. And now, as he realized he'd finally met the monster, his heart twisted with sympathy and love, for at last he understood what she'd been trying to tell him. Understood why she'd bound it with the chains of duty, and love, of compassion and honor, of pity, because, in a way, she'd been right. Under the wrong circumstances, she could have been the most terrifying person he had ever met. In fact, at this moment, she was . It was a merciless something, her "monster"—something that went far beyond military talent, or skills, or even courage. Those things, he knew without conceit, he, too, possessed in plenty. But not that deeply personal something at the core of her, as unstoppable as Juggernaut, merciless and colder than space itself, that no sane human being would ever willingly rouse. In that instant her husband knew, with an icy shiver which somehow, perversely, only made him love her even more deeply, that as he gazed into those agate-hard eyes, he looked into the gates of Hell itself. And whatever anyone else might think, he knew now that there was no fire in Hell. There was only the handmaiden of death, and ice, and purpose, and a determination which would not— couldnot—relent or rest. "I'll miss them," she told him again, still with that dreadful softness, "but I won't forget. I'll never forget, and one day— oneday, Hamish—we're going to find the people who did this, you and I. And when we do, the only thing I'll ask of God is that He let them live long enough to know who's killing them.

However, at 17 years old, I was ready to face any challenge and tackle any obstacles blocking the road to my dreams. I was ready to take on the world. I was unstoppable. Bygones were bygones. The future, however uncertain it might be, awaited me.

You asked me about love…” His gaze softened to the point where it was painful to look into his eyes. “Little one…” “It was not until you returned into my life that I grasped the true meaning of the word,” she confided, unable to ignore the deep yearning for his closeness and affection any longer. “Love is not a choice and definitely not something one can control. My love for you is like an unstoppable, wild storm. It might end up destroying me from within, but it will not change the fact you have always been my destiny.

I know what love is, Rainstorm.” He leaned over and dropped a kiss on my downturned mouth. “Love is this unstoppable force that you have very little control over. Sometimes you love the people that you shouldn’t. Sometimes you love people who’ve hurt you over and over again.

I had known him for fewer than four years, but friendship with Roger did not seem to follow the normal laws of time. 'I want all my friends to come up like weeds,' he had once written in a notebook, 'and I want to be a weed myself, spontaneous and unstoppable. I don't want the kind of friends one has to cultivate.' That caught it exactly. Spontaneous and unstoppable. Roger had not just loved the wild, he had been the wild. Not in the austere and chastening sense I had once understood the wild to be, but natural, vigorous, like a tree or a river.

You and I cannot see what God has in store for us. That is why you should never believe that your worst fears are your fate or that when you are down, you will never rise again. You must have faith in yourself, in your purpose, and in God’s plan for your life. Then you must put fears and insecurities aside and trust that you will find your way. You may not have a clue of what lies ahead, but it’s better to act on life than simply let life act on you. If you have faith, you don’t need proof—you live it. You don’t need to have all the right answers, just the right questions. No one knows what the future holds. Most of the time, God’s plan is beyond our grasp and often beyond even the reach of our imaginations. As a ten-year-old boy, I never would have believed that within the next ten years, God would send me to travel the world to speak to millions of people, inspiring them and leading them to Jesus Christ. Nor could I ever have known that the love of my family would one day be matched and even surpassed by the love of the intelligent, spiritual, fearless, and beautiful young woman who recently became my wife. That boy who despaired at the thought of his future is at peace today as a man. I know who I am, and I take one step at a time, knowing God is on my side. My life is overflowing with purpose and love. Are my days free of worry? Is every day blessed with sunshine and flowers? No, we all know life doesn’t work that way. But I thank God for each and every moment that He allows me to walk the path He has set out for me. You and I are here for a purpose. I’ve found mine, and you should take my story as an assurance that your path awaits you too.

Point to one person in the world who sees their parents objectively,” Liv demanded, thrusting the screwdriver into the screw’s slot with a bit more force than she intended. “From the beginning, they keep us alive. Through acts of selflessness and sacrifice, they teach us about love, and from our earliest

Dear one, I love you more than you know. I’ve seen everything you believe goes unnoticed, I’ve watched when you thought no one was looking, observed what exists below the surface. I know your strengths, and I know your weaknesses too. I even know that secret you hoped to keep from everyone. Yes, I know all of it, and I choose you in spite of—maybe because of—all those things. I choose those unbelievable strengths, those weaknesses you try to hide—every bit of it because it’s all you, my creation, and I choose you. Every day, every moment, I choose you. Dearest, if only you could see yourself from where I stand—how brave and unstoppable you would become.

This may shock you, but my love doesn’t come with conditions or requirements. It absolutely doesn’t require physical exam, that is for sure. It just is, Will. And it’s unstoppable, because, believe me, I’ve tried to stop it. So I guess what I’m trying to say in my usual inarticulate, rambly, too-wordy way, is that I’m not going anywhere. No matter what.

When I was little, I loved running in the rain. There was something almost freeing about it. The exhilaration of your blood pumping, the quick shallow breaths, and the way the wind brushes past your body. Want to know my most favorite part? That unstoppable feeling from pushing myself to the breaking point gets me every time. Now though? Well…it’s complicated.

It was like being alive twice, seeing the world twice, and the new vision came through the eyes of a small, curious, unstoppable being who had never seen it before. We had our own little mindfulness coach, reminding us that when all else fails us in this life we can love our own toes, or the velvet coolness of a dog's ear, or his downy fur. People told us how we would fall in love with our baby, but not how through him we would fall in love with everything else again too.

The point is that I have been totally blind since my pre-mature birth. I have no visual memories, no light in the darkness. Yet, I see so much beauty in my world. It is constantly surrounding me. I know I am loved beyond measure. I am supported, not coddled. I am encouraged, not thwarted. I am pushed, not babied. I don't know what I want to be when I grow up or who I want to be as an adult. But, I do know that I will succeed. The people in my life believe I can and so, I know without a doubt that I will

Tennis is not a game. It's a sport and a puzzle, an endurance test. You do whatever you can to win. it has been my enemy and my friend, my nightmare and the solace to that nightmare, my wound and the salve for my wound. Ask anyone who has made a life in this game, who has been out on the clay before they were old enough to understand the consequences of a strange early talent. I know you want us to love this game —us loving it makes it more fun to watch. But we don't love it. And we don't hate it. It just is, and always has been.

We don’t need an invitation to be real. The truth is: we don’t need permission to own the power of what makes us unique, what makes us female. Your emotions, your tears or temper, your love and passion. Our emotions can be wild, untamed, and raging, as it can be loving, nurturing, and consoling. All are powerful feminine energies—that when harnessed and directed towards conscious action can be an unstoppable force. So this is your official authorization to awaken into your full-bodied, emotionally activated self. Passion and power included.

I once read the most widely understood word in the whole world is ‘OK’, followed by ‘Coke’, as in cola. I think they should do the survey again, this time checking for ‘Game Over’. Game Over is my favorite thing about playing video games. Actually, I should qualify that. It’s the split second before Game Over that’s my favorite thing. Streetfighter II - an oldie but goldie - with Leo controlling Ryu. Ryu’s his best character because he’s a good all-rounder - great defensive moves, pretty quick, and once he’s on an offensive roll, he’s unstoppable. Theo’s controlling Blanka. Blanka’s faster than Ryu, but he’s really only good on attack. The way to win with Blanka is to get in the other player’s face and just never let up. Flying kick, leg-sweep, spin attack, head-bite. Daze them into submission. Both players are down to the end of their energy bars. One more hit and they’re down, so they’re both being cagey. They’re hanging back at opposite ends of the screen, waiting for the other guy to make the first move. Leo takes the initiative. He sends off a fireball to force Theo into blocking, then jumps in with a flying kick to knock Blanka’s green head off. But as he’s moving through the air he hears a soft tapping. Theo’s tapping the punch button on his control pad. He’s charging up an electricity defense so when Ryu’s foot makes contact with Blanka’s head it’s going to be Ryu who gets KO’d with 10,000 volts charging through his system. This is the split second before Game Over. Leo’s heard the noise. He knows he’s fucked. He has time to blurt ‘I’m toast’ before Ryu is lit up and thrown backwards across the screen, flashing like a Christmas tree, a charred skeleton. Toast. The split second is the moment you comprehend you’re just about to die. Different people react to it in different ways. Some swear and rage. Some sigh or gasp. Some scream. I’ve heard a lot of screams over the twelve years I’ve been addicted to video games. I’m sure that this moment provides a rare insight into the way people react just before they really do die. The game taps into something pure and beyond affectations. As Leo hears the tapping he blurts, ‘I’m toast.’ He says it quickly, with resignation and understanding. If he were driving down the M1 and saw a car spinning into his path I think he’d in react the same way. Personally, I’m a rager. I fling my joypad across the floor, eyes clenched shut, head thrown back, a torrent of abuse pouring from my lips. A couple of years ago I had a game called Alien 3. It had a great feature. When you ran out of lives you’d get a photo-realistic picture of the Alien with saliva dripping from its jaws, and a digitized voice would bleat, ‘Game over, man!’ I really used to love that.

Political power is small, although from outside it can seem very large. Economic power is much more important, as is the power of media communication. They are true powers. What does political power do? Changes the laws. And what effect does that have? It's very relative. We know very little about how many laws are adhered to, and if they are followed what effect that has. We have to manage to create a change in attitudes and changes of attitude are obtained more through campaigns, through attitudes that set an example, than through laws, through sanctions etc. A change in attitudes of communication, cultural change, has an absolutely unstoppable effect. I have lived in a Spain when if you were gay you would be thrown in prison. Realistically, they haven't especially changed the laws, until we cleared up the possibility of marriage, but at the start of the democracy gay people were thrown in prison. The law barely changed but people's attitudes did. It was in films, on television, it was in novels, it was examples - gay people who came out of the closet, they were kind, we loved them; there was a change.

Young love,” she said. “It doesn’t matter how old you get, you always remember it. You spend five minutes with someone and suddenly you never want to spend a moment apart. They become your sole focus and make you happier, more excited, and more inspired than anything before. They become your armor and give you strength and bravery and make you feel unstoppable. Life doesn’t seem so bad now that you have someone to share it with.” Arthur gulped—he couldn’t have described it better himself. “That is, until it stops,” Mother Goose said. “Then everything comes to an earth-shattering, heartbreaking, and rude-awakening halt. You feel foolish for ever having been so happy, and embarrassed for letting it show, and the world has never seemed so terrible.” “Sounds familiar,” Arthur said. Mother Goose leaned a little closer to him, and seriousness grew in her eyes. “Love is wonderful, magical, and beautiful, but it can also be maddening, damaging, and dangerous,” she said. “It blinds us more than anything. It makes us selfish, it makes us feel like nothing else matters, and it tricks us into thinking the rest of the world doesn’t exist—but it does exist. Whether you’re on the high or low side of love, the world always moves on.

Think of your heart as a garden. If you want it to thrive and bloom, you need to water it with love, kindness, compassion, positivity, and gratitude. If you neglect your garden, all you may get in return are weeds. Certain seasons may come along to make conditions harsh for us, so our garden might shrink at times, but if we persevere, we know our garden will bloom again soon. We can turn life's hardship and experiences into fertilizer that helps us grow and flourish. With a beautiful heart, we can transform life's ugly situations into beautiful lessons. There's no way around it; a beautiful life can only come with a beautiful heart.

Dr. King understood radical love as a form of death—a relentless self-examination in which a fearful, hateful, egoistic self dies daily to be reborn into a courageous, loving, and sacrificial self. For both Day and King, this radical love flows from an imitation of Christ, a response to an invitation of self-surrender in order to emerge fully equipped to fight for justice in a cold and cruel world of domination and exploitation. The scandal of the Cross is precisely the unstoppable and unsuffocatable love that keeps moving in a blood-soaked history, even in our catastrophic times. There is no radical King without his commitment to radical love.

Enraged I throw myself to the ground and I scream, my best friend is gone, this world is so mean. I cry as I pound my fists on his grass, I’m very upset that our time went so fast. My heart beats faster than ever before, my tears unstoppable, I'm hurt to the core. There are no words people can say, that will ease my excruciating pain. I don’t understand why you had to go. You leaving me, we just didn’t know. I’ll make it somehow, I’ll start anew. But, there is no way I can replace you. I struggle to make it through each day, and retain my sanity in this foggy haze. The sadness and pain that I display, is because God decided to take you away.

What do you see?” my professor asked as he projected a picture of a small black dot in the middle of a very big white screen. I was sitting in Psychology 101 during my years at Sydney University. We all responded immediately: “A black dot.” I was excited, thinking, If all of the questions are as easy as this one, this course is going to be easy! The prof looked out over the class and paused for several seconds before he asked again, “What do you see?” Thinking he must not have heard us properly the first time, we repeated even more loudly: “A black dot!” Again he paused . . . and then asked the same question a third time. Now he had my attention. And when still, on the third try, none of us provided the correct answer, he explained — and gave me a lesson I will never forget. “You were all so focused on the little black dot in the center of the screen that none of you noticed the dominant image on the screen: the large white space covering the screen top to bottom, left to right.” I couldn’t believe I had missed it. Suddenly it was obvious. There was far more white space than black dot. Whatever I chose to focus on had my attention. There is always much more white space than there is space covered by little black dots — we simply need to recognize and focus on it. In class, that idea seemed like an easy notion — easier than it has proven to be in life. Because the harsh reality is that the black dots of our lives — the trials, challenges, disappointments, obstacles, and hurdles we face as we run — will naturally draw and consume our attention. Our enemy would love to get us to focus on those black dots and convince us they define and shape our lives and determine our destiny. But in the divine relay, we are to fix our eyes on Jesus. He is the “white space” of God’s power at work in the universe, and the trials we face are but a tiny speck, a black dot, in comparison. As we learn to focus on the vastness of God’s eternal, amazing work on this planet, those black dots will cease to blemish our lives.

Is that it?” he demanded, in sudden rage. “Is that all that matters? Not that I am in love and tumbled like a fool into sin. Not that I can never be happy, married to a snake and in love with a heartbreaker, but only, only, that Mistress Anne Boleyn’s reputation must be without blemish.” At once she flew at him, her hands spread like claws, and he caught her wrists before she could rake his face. “Look at me!” she hissed. “Didn’t I give up my only love, didn’t I break my heart? Didn’t you tell me then that it was worth the price?” He held her away but she was unstoppable. “Look at Mary! Didn’t we take her from her husband and me from mine? And now you have to give up someone too. You have to lose the great love of your life, as I have lost mine, as Mary lost hers. Don’t whimper to me about heartbreak, you murdered my love and we buried it together and now it is gone.” George

Someone had found a pair of blankets that had American flag motifs and covered both Chris and Chad with them. It was a thoughtful gesture, but it also meant I couldn’t see my husband’s face, or more than the bare outlines of his body as he was carried past. “Give us five minutes,” said someone as I started to follow the gurneys inside. “Five minutes.” “I don’t want him prepared,” I said. “I don’t want him cleaned up.” “Five minutes.” I stepped back. We waited-I don’t know, probably less than five minutes, but it was all I could stand. I went inside, determined, unstoppable. The funeral director met me. “I didn’t do as much as I wanted. His hands are dirty from the fingerprinting.” “His hands were always dirty,” I said. Inside the room, Chris lay on the gurney, chest covered with the blanket. I bent to his face, tears pouring from my eyes, and kissed him. How many times? A thousand. Not enough. Never enough again.

That shifting, layered sensibility is also, in part, the world into which the King James Bible was born. The king’s instructions were perfectly explicit: they were to use ‘circumlocution’, in other words language in which meaning was to be ‘sett forth gorgeously’. There was no terror of richness in this. Richness, as King David had known when he decorated the temple for God, was one of the attributes of God. Majesty, honour and power were gorgeous in themselves and the Jacobean sense of the beautiful loved both pearls and diamonds, both openness and ceremony. Miles Smith referred in his Preface to ‘the Sun of righteousness, the Son of God’, and it was the beams of that sun which the King James Translators would bring to the people. But the sense of clarity and directness was sewn and fused to those other Jacobean virtues: a pattern of order and authority; the majestic substance, the ‘meat’ of the word of God; the great ceremonial atmosphere of its long, carefully organised, musical rhythms, a ceremony of the word; an atmosphere both godly and kingly; both rich and pure, both multiplicitous and plain. This Bible, in other words, would absorb the full aesthetics of the age. You only have to read the Translators at full flood, feeling behind them the sense of unstoppable divine authority, to hear the immense, gilded majesty of the translation. In describing God’s assembling of the armies of a vengeful justice, they reached their apogee:

In My Prayer. My silent niche. You incarnate in my prayer. Dawn is all dancing like a rainbow in your smile. Anxious to uncover dreams after morning. The desire to arrange sparkly beads in your hair. Reduce heartbeat, please at the tips of your fingers. I will pray together with night just to keep remembering you. A never ending memory to always say your name. Silence that leads to longing for the rising of light. Horizon knocked on all the gates, which grabbed a reprehensible body, who hesitated to stop at the tip of the tongue. Lips murmuring, stringing questions hung at the end of time. The self that is always broken and dishonest, who is kufr and who is infidel. All beings submit to the most holy feet. Let silence accept everything that is magical. Although the reflection of the moon's face is filled with wounds with lies in our mouths, betrayed by lust and unstoppable desires. May you soon incarnate so that a million flowers bloom in the heart of the most cursory. The eyes are altered, betraying a million flashes of light from the darkest night. The most beautiful gems are buried in mud puddles. Even though the sky is still dark. Heavy rain that is redder than all blood. Which surpassed the fangs of the old snake. The endless cycle of the sun throws puzzles about the mysteries of the universe that are never answered. The beginning of all this sorrow in myself. If only you please, transform into a butterfly in my prayer tonight. A pair of wings that burned like a fire of longing in my heart. Who suddenly fidgeted and flew into your eyes. Then descend on the branch of the Khuldi tree, before breaking into my tears. Suppose tonight, in my prayer, you incarnate like a thunderous storm. Like the sound of noisy thunder. The footsteps stepped hurriedly on the foggy road. Infiltrate the gaps of our thoughts and feelings. Shackle our arms, knees and breath. If only, in my prayer tonight you will be transformed into murky tears. Who trembled, even though it would patiently take care of my sadness. The pain that somehow healed my soul. Beliefs that keep mysteries for my deepest secrets, which you endlessly hum, in order to be a comfort for my sad life. My dear. Lady of my heart. My love. My soul. Bless me with all your generosity. With your mercy, with your endless love. With your infinite anger.

Life Path # 11: You are highly intuitive and you are gifted with amazing psychic abilities. Without any effort you become a source of inspiration for other people. You have this innate ability to connect the subconscious and the conscious and the higher and the lower realms. You are a natural psychic. Eleven is the life path of many prophets, inventors, historical leaders, religious leaders and artists. They usually don’t progress early in life but they are destined to accomplish more than other life paths. When they reach the age of maturity (35-45) their success starts to bloom. Confidence is the key to success for the Eleven. Your tremendous potential needs equally tremendous confidence for you to realize your dreams. Without confidence, you are reduced to nothing. As a higher vibration of the number 2, you have many characteristics, talents and tendencies inherent to the Twos. You have to guard your nervous system from stress. Seek out peace and harmony and you will find it in nature. Exercise and diet is necessary for you. Just like the number 2, you love harmony and peace and you possess a refined taste for beauty. You are best suited to anything that requires healing like physical therapy, acupuncture, massage and counseling. As a partner, you know what your partner needs and desires.