Virgin River Quotes

Did you miss me?’ “A little bit,” she said with a shrug. “You have tears running down your cheeks,” he said with a grin. “I think you missed me more than a little.

I didn’t want to cry in front of you.” He wiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb. “I want you to cry only in front of me.

He shook his head again. 'I just can't figure out why anyone in his right head would bother these Virgin River women.' 'Yeah. Makes no sense.' Jack said.

When you lose your temper, you lose a friend. When you lie, you lose yourself.

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

She has to agree to have me. It could take some time, but I’m confident I can trick her into it.

Until meeting you, I wasn’t looking for anything at all. Since meeting you, I’m kind of looking for a girlfriend.

but when I got down to it, I was doomed without her. She's the breath in me.

Muriel, you're not a convenience. I'd walk across a mile of cut glass in my bare feet to hold your hand and talk to you for one hour. You're everything to me.--Walt

Struggling is mandatory. Suffering is optional.

Maybe we’ll admit this thing we have is perfect, not worth messing around with. And stay together forever. If you’re interested, that is.” She glanced away. “I could think about that.” He buried his face in her neck. “Think fast

Daddy? Daddy, I know the baby is in the mommy‟s tummy and the baby comes out of the mommy‟s tummy, but, Daddy? How do that baby get in the mommy‟s tummy?

Marry me. You'll learn to love me, I promise.

We’ll make out for a while and you’ll feel better.

What are you doing here?” All right, he was standing in front of an easel, holding a paint palette and brush. “Taxidermy?” he responded with just a touch of his own sarcasm.

She had become the answer to prayers he hadn’t known he whispered.

Can't any of us stand up to those women?" "Nope," said at least three men in unison.

Don't make love to your problems-- they'll never give you back the satisfaction you give them.

He tends to go for girls who are-Shelby, honey? Put your hands over your ears for just a sec.” Back into the phone he said, “He likes the real slutty ones. Ow!” he yelled when he received a whop to the back of the head.

Whew,” he said. “You clean up good. You don’t look like the same girl.” She frowned right before she laughed. “Do women usually thank you for saying things like that?

Don't leave yet," he said, his voice hoarse. "Let me do something. Let me feed you. Hold you. Rub your shoulders. Change your oil. Anything, please.

I like the way you kiss-a couple of test kisses, then a huge kiss.

(mel)“I knew you’d never leave me.” (jack)“Baby, I’d walk out of hell to get back to you.

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

I just wanted to make you happy,” he said. “Are you happy?” “I’ve been happy a couple of times. What can I do so that you can join me?” He laced his fingers through hers and holding her hands, stretched her arms up above her head, holding them there. “Baby, you don’t have to do anything but be present.

You know, you own a bar and you don't keep alcohol at home," she said, breathless. "I could have had a shot--it sometimes slows labor." "We'll have some on hand for the next one." "You keep talking like that's gonna happen," she said. "How ridiculous." "I think my record speaks for itself. But Mel. I just want to make them, not deliver them." "I hear ya, buddy"..... -Jack and Mel

Are you sure?” “I’ve never been more sure about anything. I want this. If you can’t stay here, I’ll go anywhere you want to go.” “But Jack, you love it here!” “Don’t you realize I love you more? I need you in my life. You and our baby. God, Mel—I don’t care where that happens. As long as it happens.

I wanted to do it for you,” he said. “I wanted to show you how much I would do, how far I would go. How hard I would work.

Well, you’re just going to have to take a leap of faith,” he said. “I think I can do that,” she said. “If you’re there to catch me.” “I’m here,” he said. “I haven’t let you down yet, have I?” She put her hand against his face. “No, Jack. You sure haven’t.

We’re adults. I might be a little more of an adult if you’re counting years but I bet I have a lower IQ, so that puts us pretty much even.

God, I know you’re sick of hearing me beg, but this is my woman, my wife. My best friend! No, she’s so much more than that—she’s the other half of my heart. I’ve waited my whole life for her—I’d give my life a hundred times to keep her safe! A thousand times! She’s every breath I take, every single beat of my heart. I don’t think I can live without her now. Not now…Please, God. Please. Oh God, please…

He brushed the hair back from her brow. “Were you scared, baby?” “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I knew you were coming.” “You did?” She touched her chest. “Your heart beats in here. If it had stopped, I would have known. It did beat a little fast sometimes.

I gotta call Vanni tonight, and tell her. I’ve got her all confused and totally furious…” “Paul, you can’t tell her on the phone,” Jack said. “But—” “Paul! She’s gonna hang up on you! And then the next time you show your face, she’s going to put a bullet in your head. And Walt will help her line up her shot.

A little while later Jack walked into the kitchen at the bar and saw Preacher scowl his greeting. Bravely, Jack walked up to the counter. “Hey, man,” he said. “You were right, I was wrong, and I’d like us to get back on the same team.” “You sure this team of mine isn’t too much trouble for little you?” Preacher asked. “Okay, you about done? Because this really hurts and I’m trying not to deck you right now.

But what if you don’t like Chico?” she asked him, her brow furrowed. “Will you be there? Because if that’s where you want to be, I’ll find plenty to like.

Tom. Tom, look at me. Has Nora agreed to marry you?" "No, but she will because she has to.

But you were concerned about making sure things, you know, didn't get serious." "Yeah, because I'm an idiot.

I am not sleeping with you." "We could probably manage it, though. Without getting too involved." "No," she said. "But why? I mean, if we're trusted friends? And it doesn't interfere with our responsibilities?" "Did that line ever actually work for you?" "I can't remember. But it probably did-it's brilliant.

He grabbed her face in his hands again. "I want to be with you forever. I want to be beside you every night, holding you close, whispering to you that I love you more than anything in the world, that you turned my whole world upside down just when it needed to be turned upside down. I want to make forever promises to you out loud, in front of God, and I want you to promise to be my woman, my wife, my one and only love, my best friend and my conscience. You're never easy, Ellie, but you're sure never boring..." (Noah Kincaid)

Paul went to his room, gathered clean clothes and headed down the hall to the shower. He made it quick, but clean. He shaved. Then he thought, I am shaving—why? To be smooth cheeked when I pass out?

Why do I have to earn it by being good? Don’t you feel like bragging?” “It’s better when you beg,” he said, his voice low. “It’s always better when you beg.

It’s up to you.” He reached across the front seat and grabbed her hand. “It’s always up to you.” He drew her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss into her palm.

Tom, how many children do you think I have to have before I figure out you get them by having sex?" "Of course there would be protection," he offered. "Tons of it.

Maybe we could, um, go sit in the truck?" he said, but even as he said it, it sounded so dumb. And not exactly the way he wanted her to remember a marriage proposal.

She’d never been any kind of camper, never had been good at relieving a full bladder on a whim. Never had quite figured out that squat; it seemed like she’d always wet her right foot.

Did we have some understanding? That I was going to follow your nonmedical orders? Because I don't recall that in my personal life, I'm obligated to do everything you tell me." "Guess you're not obligated to use your brain in your personal life, either." "I filled your truck up with gas, you old pain in the ass." "I didn't get caught in that piece of shit foreign job of yours, you obstinate little strumpet." And she laughed at him so hard, tears came to her eyes and she had to leave, laughing all the way back to her cabin. -Mel and Doc

Wow,” she said. “Do you realise how wonderful you sound?” “Yes, I do,” he said with a firm nod. “And I think I’m underappreciated.

People belong wherever they feel good. It can be a lot of different places. For a lot of different reasons.

...you shouldn't miss opportunities to live life. It could always be your last chance.

When he came back, he fed the fire, rolled out his pallet, turned off the light and laid down. After several minutes of quiet darkness, she heard his voice. "Sorry if I scared you. I don't roar that often." -Ian to Marcie

As he looked down at her, his eyes were both warm and curious. "You don't look as tough as that." "I don't know how tough I am--look at me, sick as a pup. But I bet I can match you for stubborn." A sound came out of him. "Holy shit, Ian--was that a laugh?" "A cough," he lied. "You probably got me sick.

It’s no good to lose touch with people who mean a lot,

I crashed," she said. "It was a helluva crash. If you're going to go down, go down big. You should be proud." And then he smiled. He held her hand as it lay on her lap while she lifted her brandy to her lips with the other hand, trembling a bit. When it was gone, he said, "Come on. I'm putting you to bed." "What if I cry all night?" "I'll be right here," he said.

Now Preacher might manage a bar and hang out with men primarily, but he was unaccustomed to fathers who pushed their children out of sight. Rudely, at that. In his crowd, families were appreciated. Most of his friends were married with children, and the children were a part of everything. The women were nearly worshiped.

I mean, I don’t want to pass judgment—I just wish my husband didn’t shoot deer.” “Oh, Mel, don’t worry. I’ve been hunting with your husband—the deer are completely safe.

She [the Virgin Mary] was normal. She had already had other children. The Bible tells us that Jesus had two brothers. Virginity, as it relates to Jesus, is based on a different thing: Mary initiated a new generation of grace. A new era began. She is the cosmic bride, Earth, which opens to the heavens and allows itself to be fertilized.

However, I have to warn you, I kind of like that you find me irresistible.” “Did I say that?” he asked, a slight tint creeping up his stubbled cheeks. “I didn’t say that! I find you completely resistible.

What the hell was that?" "Puma," he said. "Mountain lion." "I knew that was a lion." She stopped suddenly. "You didn't hurt him, did you?" "Marcie, he wanted to eat you! Are you worried about his soul or something?" "I just wanted him to go away," she said. "I didn't want him to go dead." -Marcie and Ian

You dance?” “I think that might be overly optimistic,” he said. “I do something. I’ll try not to hurt you.

Your big scary husband is crying.

It's usually the roughest waters that teach us the most.

It's rude to discuss your wife with your girlfriend

Shelby handed off her bouquet and faced Luke, taking both his hands in hers. And she began: “Luke, I love you. I promise that each day I have you in my life, I will show you my love.” Noah's eyes drifted to Ellie's and a smile played about his lips as the bride and groom spoke. “Shelby, I love you. In each day of our lives together, I will show my love. And where there is injury, I will pardon without hesitation.” “Where there is doubt, Luke, I will have faith in you.” “In times of despair, you will be my hope.” “In times of darkness, I will find my light in you.” “When there is sadness, let me bring you joy.” “Luke, I will not so much seek to be consoled as to console.” “I will seek to understand, not just to be understood.” “I will love, not just crave love.” “I pledge you my heart, my life.” “And I pledge mine to you.” “I, Luke Riordan, take you, Shelby MacIntyre, to be wife, my best friend, my lover, my partner, the head of my family and other half of my heart. Forever.” He slid a ring on her finger. Shelby slid a ring onto his finger. “I, Shelby MacIntyre, take you, Luke Riordan, to be my husband, best friend, lover, partner, head of my family and other half of my heart. Forever.

Love never comes just a little bit at a time, I thought, as I watched him, absorbed in contemplation of the Virgin. The previous day, the world made sense, even without love's presence. But now we needed each other in order to see the true brilliance of things.

My gramma used to think that passage when Jesus said, ‘In my Father’s house are many rooms,’ didn’t mean there was a big hotel in heaven. It meant there were lots of different ways to worship.

He stared at her and his smile slowly faded. He put his hands on his hips. He took a deep breath and felt tears gather in his eyes. “You’re all I need to be happy, Shelby,” he said. “You’re everything I need…” He actually surprised her. Her arms dropped from over her chest and she gaped at him for a second. “You’re everything,” he said. “It scares me to death, but I want it all with you. I want you for life. I want what you want, and I want it right now. Everything, Shelby. I want you to be the lead in my shoes that keeps me on the ground. The mother of my children. My best friend, my wife, my mistress. It’s a tall order.” He took a breath. “If you won’t quit, I won’t.

Honey, I have a feeling he doesn’t think of you as a friend. Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She glanced at him and as if he could feel her gaze, he turned his eyes on her. Soft and hard all at once. “Yeah,” Mel said. “He promised to stop doing that.

I asked Phil Prentiss what he would do if they never got a baby and he said they’d die with a lot of excess love in their hearts….” “And let’s not,” Jack said. “Let’s spend every drop. On the kids, on our families, on your patients, on the town. On people we don’t know yet and the ones who have been our good friends forever. On each other. Let’s spend our last drop as we’re taking our last breaths.

Thanks a lot. You could have cut the girl some slack. We haven't had anything pretty to look at around here since Bradley's old golder retriever died died last fall.

You don't need a lot of money to live a full life--all you need is a fertile mind, some books and a good attitude. Books are free at the library, but a fertile mind takes practice.

Catherine Tekakwitha, who are you? Are you (1656-1680)? Is that enough? Are you the Iroquois Virgin? Are you the Lily of the Shores of the Mohawk River? Can I love you in my own way?

I'm not wild about throwing up or waddling, but I sure love carrying around a little piece of you. You're right--you make excellent babies." "We all have our special talents," he said. Mel and Jack

Paul scooted forward a bit. "Well, it's no secret I'm in love with your daughter. I want to marry Vanni. Do I have your blessing? Your permission?" Walt shook his head and chuckled. "Haggerty, you sneak down the hall after I'm in bed every night-- you'd damn sure better marry her. In fact, it might make sense for you to put the baby in that bedroom you're not using--save a trip or two, let the child have some space..." Paul felt a stain creep to his cheeks and thought, I'm over thirty-five--how the hell does this man make me blush? "Yes, sir. Good idea, sir.

You can't try. Trying is a struggle and doing is an act. You can't witness the act of trying, but you can see the results of doing. Trying brings on stress because not only do you have the problem, but now you have all this frustration with it not going away just because you want it to. It's kind of like being told not to think of pink elephants—impossible. What you have to do is stop. You say to yourself, this is over for now. I'm done for now. Take your mind to another place and concentrate on that peaceful place. Deep breaths. Go limp. Put your mind in another state. It takes practice, but it gets easier, over time.

But, Marcie had reminded herself, I don’t know the weight of anyone else’s burdens—only my own. She didn’t judge. She didn’t feel smart or strong enough to judge.

It's different for guys. They don't feel the same way about proms that girls do. Girls see it as a chance to feel like a princess. Guys see it as a chance to have sex.

I am fit to capture a unicorn, and I should not be so questioned.

God understands everything. And even He made a mistake or two. Look at the size of avocado seeds - way too big. And pomegranates? Too many seeds. What a waist of fruit!

the best thing you can give a child you love is happy memories and a foundation they can be proud of.

When you screw up you own it, you make amends, you learn your lesson.

Well, what am I supposed to do?" "Well, you can take a nap, read a little of my book, or close your eyes. Or you could stare--get the thrill of your life." "She put her hands on her hips. "You really wouldn't care, would you?" "Not really. A bath is a serious business when it's that much trouble. And it's pretty quick in winter." He started to chuckle. "What's so funny?" she asked, a little irritated. "I was just thinking. It's cold enough in here, you might not see that much." Her cheeks went hot, so she pretended not to understand. "But in summer, you can lay in the tub all afternoon?" "In summer, I wash in the creek." He grinned at her. "Why don't you comb the snarls out of your hair? You look like a wild banshee." She stared at him a minute, then said, "Don't flirt with me. It won't do you any good." -Marcie and Ian

The door jerked open and he glowered at her. "What do you want?" "Hey! Why are you mad at me? I just want to talk to you." "I don't want to talk," he said, pushing the door closed. With inexplicable courage, she put her booted food in it's path. "Then maybe you can listen." "No!" he bellowed. "You're not going to scare me!" she shouted at him. Then he roared like a wild animal. He bared his teeth, his eyes lit like there were gold flames in them, and the sound that came out of him was otherworldly. She jumped back, her eyes as wide as hubcaps. "Okay," she said, putting up her hands, palms toward him. "Maybe you do scare me. A little." -Ian and Marcie

Must you say things like that in public, for God's sake?" "What do you mean?" He lowered his voice to a hiss. "Remember yesterday at the inn? My 'pistol' is making an appearance, thanks to you." She glanced down at his trousers, which only made them bulge more obviously. Then she lifted a mischievous gaze to his face. "Whatever will you do, now that you're in this...state?" "Conjugate Latin," he said tersely. "Think of England. Think of anything but you and me doing--Bloody hell, there it goes again, and we're nearly to Rotten Row." He stopped short and stepped behind a bench with a high back that sat near the river. She stood next to him, pretty as the proverbial picture, her eyes dropping to his trousers with virginal curiosity. "Would you stop looking at me there? he growled. "You're not helping." She laughed. "You're the one who started it by trying to seduce me with words. Serves you right if you have to suffer for it." -Giles and Minerva

The rapacious white tribe who were arriving in increasing numbers, not only as convicts but also as settlers, wanted to own everything they touched. They slashed and burned the wilderness so that they might graze their sheep and grow their corn. They erected fences around the land they now called their own and which henceforth they were prepared to defend with muskets and sometimes even their lives. They built church steeples and prison walls and homes of granite hewn from the virgin rock and timber cut from the umbrageous mountain forests. They possessed everything upon the island, the wild beasts that grazed upon its surface, the birds that flew over it, the fish that swam in its rushing river torrents and the barking seals resting in the quiet bays and secluded inlets. Everything they thought worthwhile was attached to the notion of ownership.

I want to love every piece of you. I want to be inside you. I want our bodies together, to make the two of us into one. I want it all, and I want it hard, soft, anything that will make you happy. I want to hold you, keep you safe, make you scream... I want to make you gasp and tremble and lose control, like I'm losing control. And tip over the edge. And fall." He kissed her again. "And fall," he whispered against her lips. "I want to make you fall in love with me. The way I'm in love with you." (Noah Kincaid)

Don't worry, Ian. I totally protected your anonymity. I told her you were my brother." "Great," he pouted."Now she's going to ask me about you. And I told you--I'm friendly and pleasant and then I move on." "You can do that. She'll find you perfectly understandable." "Oh? And why's that?" "Well, she wondered about you. Said you ask for some heavy reading sometimes, but that you didn't make much conversation." "Oh, really?" "Yes," Marcie explained. "I said you were brilliant, but not a very social animal. I said she shouldn't expect a lot of chitchat from you, but you were perfectly nice and there was no reason to be shy around you--you're safer than you look." "Is that so? And how did you convince her of that?" "Easy. I said you were an idiot savant--brilliant in literature and many other things, but socially you weren't on your game." "Oh, Jesus Christ!" -Ian and Marcie

Now, of course, having failed in every attempt to subdue the Glades by frontal attack, we are slowly killing it off by tapping the River of Grass. In the questionable name of progress, the state in its vast wisdom lets every two-bit developer divert the flow into drag-lined canals that give him 'waterfront' lots to sell. As far north as Corkscrew Swamp, virgin stands of ancient bald cypress are dying. All the area north of Copeland had been logged out, and will never come back. As the glades dry, the big fires come with increasing frequency. The ecology is changing with egret colonies dwindling, mullet getting scarce, mangrove dying of new diseases born of dryness.

Why don’t I give her a bottle while you eat. I brought coffee.” “Really, I didn’t know they made men like you,” she said, letting him follow her into the kitchen. When he put down the plate and thermos, she handed over the baby and tested the bottle. “You seem very comfortable with a newborn. For a man. A man with some nieces in Sacramento.” He just smiled at her. She passed him the bottle and got out two coffee mugs.

CLEOPATRA TO THE ASP The bright mirror I braved: the devil in it Loved me like my soul, my soul: Now that I seek myself in a serpent My smile is fatal. Nile moves in me; my thighs splay Into the squalled Mediterranean; My brain hides in that Abyssinia Lost armies foundered towards. Desert and river unwrinkle again. Seeming to bring them the waters that make drunk Caesar, Pompey, Antony I drank. Now let the snake reign. A half-deity out of Capricorn, This rigid Augustus mounts With his sword virginal indeed; and has shorn Summarily the moon-horned river From my bed. May the moon Ruin him with virginity! Drink me, now, whole With coiled Egypt's past; then from my delta Swim like a fish toward Rome.

This cook, Preacher? He's unbelievable. I had some of his venison chili when I first got to town and it almost made me pass out, it was so good." Hi slips curved in a smile. "You at venison, Marcie?" "I didn't have a relationship with the deer," she explained. "You don't have a relationship with my deer either," he pointed out. "Yeah, but I have a relationship with you--you've seen me in my underwear. And you have a relationship with the deer. If you fed him to me, it would be like you shot and fed me your friend. Or something." Ian just drained his beer and smiled at her enough to show his teeth. "I wouldn't shoot that particular buck," he admitted. "But if I had a freezer, I'd shoot his brother." "There's something off about that," she said, just as Jack placed her wine in front of her. "Wouldn't it be more logical if hunters didn't get involved with their prey? Or their families? Oh, never mind--I can't think about this before eating my meat loaf. Who knows who's in it?" -Ian and Marcie

A half-naked, betel-chewing pessimist stood upon the bank of the tropical river, on the edge of the still and immense forests; a man angry, powerless, empty-handed, with a cry of bitter discontent ready on his lips; a cry that, had it come out, would have rung through the virgin solitudes of the woods as true, as great, as profound, as any philosophical shriek that ever came from the depths of an easy chair to disturb the impure wilderness of chimneys and roofs.

Across the road from my cabin was a huge clear-cut--hundreds of acres of massive spruce stumps interspersed with tiny Douglas firs--products of what they call "Reforestation," which I guess makes the spindly firs en masse a "Reforest," which makes an individual spindly fir a "Refir," which means you could say that Weyerhauser, who owns the joint, has Refir Madness, since they think that sawing down 200-foot-tall spruces and replacing them with puling 2-foot Refirs is no different from farming beans or corn or alfalfa. They even call the towering spires they wipe from the Earth's face forever a "crop"--as if they'd planted the virgin forest! But I'm just a fisherman and may be missing some deeper significance in their nomenclature and stranger treatment of primordial trees.

Spring had come early that year, with warm quick rains and sudden frothing of pink peach blossoms and dogwood dappling with white stars the dark river swamp and far-off hills. Already the plowing was nearly finished, and the bloody glory of the sunset colored the fresh-cut furrows of red Georgia clay to even redder hues. The moist hungry earth, waiting upturned for the cotton seeds, showed pinkish on the sandy tops of furrows, vermilion and scarlet and maroon where shadows lay along the sides of the trenches. The whitewashed brick plantation house seemed an island set in a wild red sea, a sea of spiraling, curving, crescent billows petrified suddenly at the moment when the pink-tipped waves were breaking into surf. For here were no long, straight furrows, such as could be seen in the yellow clay fields of the flat middle Georgia country or in the lush black earth of the coastal plantations. The rolling foothill country of north Georgia was plowed in a million curves to keep the rich earth from washing down into the river bottoms. It was a savagely red land, blood-colored after rains, brick dust in droughts, the best cotton land in the world. It was a pleasant land of white houses, peaceful plowed fields and sluggish yellow rivers, but a land of contrasts, of brightest sun glare and densest shade. The plantation clearings and miles of cotton fields smiled up to a warm sun, placid, complacent. At their edges rose the virgin forests, dark and cool even in the hottest noons, mysterious, a little sinister, the soughing pines seeming to wait with an age-old patience, to threaten with soft sighs: "Be careful! Be careful! We had you once. We can take you back again.

I want to undress you, touch you, kiss you, taste you. And then I want you to taste yourself on my mouth." He kissed her again, hot and strong and long. One hand crept to her clothed breast, kneading it. "I want you hard and hot and deep and fast. And then I want you slow and sweet. I want you to wrap those beautiful long legs around me. I want you under me and on top of me and sitting and standing. I want to see your eyes when pleasure makes you light up. I want to hold you when you come down and try to find your breath. I want everything with you, Ellie. I care about you more than I've cared about a woman in so long. I hardly recognized the feelings. I'm dying for you." (Noah Kincaid)

My hand was on the door handle when for a split second out of nowhere I was terrified, blue-blazing terrified, fear dropping straight through me like a jagged black stone falling fast. I'd felt this before, in the limbo instants before I moved out of my aunt's house, lost my virginity, took my oath as a police officer: those instants when the irrevocable thing you wanted so much suddenly turns real and solid, inches away and speeding at you, a bottomless river rising and no way back once it's crossed. I had to catch myself back from crying out like a little kid drowning in terror, I don't want to do this any more.

Hanging on to it a little, are you? … There’s a trick to letting it go, in case you’re interested… You can’t try. Trying is a struggle and doing is an act. You can’t witness the act of trying, but you can see the results of doing. Trying brings on stress because not only do you have the problem, but now you have all this frustration with it not going away just because you want it to. It’s kind of like being told not to think of pink elephants- impossible. What you have to do is stop. You say to yourself, this is over for now. I’m done for now. Take your mind to another place and concentrate on that peaceful place. Deep breaths. Go limp. Put your mind in another state. It takes practice, but it gets easier, over time… My gramma used to say, you can only feel one feeling at a time. For example, you can’t feel trust and fear together. If you want to trust but you’re afraid, fear is still in charge. If you trusted, there wouldn’t be fear. She also used to say you have to listen to what you feel- feeling fear could be warning, right? ... Don’t make love to your problems- they’ll never give you back the satisfaction you give them. And, your troubles aren’t worth the paper they’re written on, but that doesn’t mean writing them down won’t help you get a fix on ‘em. And, God respects you when you work, but he loves you when you dance… she also used to say, ‘if Jesus walked the earth today, he wouldn’t be hanging out with Billy Graham. He’d be found with the drug addicts and prostitutes and the like.

Point Partageuse got its name from French explorers who mapped the cape that jutted from the south-western corner of the Australian continent well before the British dash to colonize the west began in 1826. Since then, settlers had trickled north from Albany and south from the Swan River Colony, laying claim to the virgin forests in the hundreds of miles between. Cathedral-high trees were felled with handsaws to create grazing pasture; scrawny roads were hewn inch by stubborn inch by pale-skinned fellows with teams of shire horses, as this land, which had never before been scarred by man, was excoriated and burned, mapped and measured and meted out to those willing to try their luck in a hemisphere which might bring them desperation, death, or fortune beyond their dreams.

There were railroads in the wilderness now; people who used to go overland by carriage or horseback to the River landings for the Memphis and New Orleans steamboats could take the train from almost anywhere now. And presently Pullmans too, all the way from Chicago and the Northern cities and the Northern money, the Yankee dollars arriving between sheets and even in drawing rooms to open the wilderness, nudge it further and further toward obsolescence with the whine of saws; what had been one vast unbroken virgin span was now booming with cotton and timber both. Or rather, booming with simple money: increment's troglodyte which had fathered twin ones: solvency and bankruptcy, the three of them booming money into the land so fast now that the problem was to get rid of it before it whelmed you into strangulation.

Hardly had Juana had time to get settled when there was a clatter in the courtyard. The night sprang into excitement; instructions were shouted, torches brought. And suddenly the doors burst open; suddenly Philip -- hot, handsome, disheveled -- strode in. Philip was blond and sturdy; the gunpowder-train of Juana's emotions, long and dark and twisting, exploded at last. Philip's eyes must have seen, if nothing else, a girl in virginal flush, a young body of sixteen. He could hardly endure the formal presentations of the nobles. As soon as they were ended, he did what is generally referred to as commanding the nearest cleric to marry them on the spot. This person, however -- the Spaniard don Diego Villaescusa, Dean of Jaen -- it was not in Philip's power to order about. But the fact that it must have been Juana who gave the command only serves to underline the mutuality of their haste and hunger. The Dean did as he was bidden; the ignited youngsters kneeled; Philip hurried Juana out. In a room on the rez de chaussee overlooking the turbulent river they tore off their clothes. Someone had managed to get a gilded crucifix nailed on the ceiling above the bed -- surely one of the unnoticed ornaments (and, as things turned out, one of the most inappropriate) ever put up.

O my dark Rosaleen,     Do not sigh, do not weep! The priests are on the ocean green,     They march along the deep. There’s wine from the royal Pope,     Upon the ocean green;    And Spanish ale shall give you hope,        My Dark Rosaleen!     My own Rosaleen! Shall glad your heart, shall give you hope, Shall give you health, and help, and hope,     My Dark Rosaleen! Over hills, and thro’ dales,     Have I roam’d for your sake; All yesterday I sail’d with sails     On river and on lake. The Erne, at its highest flood,     I dash’d across unseen, For there was lightning in my blood,     My Dark Rosaleen!     My own Rosaleen! O, there was lightning in my blood, Red lighten’d thro’ my blood.     My Dark Rosaleen! All day long, in unrest,     To and fro, do I move. The very soul within my breast     Is wasted for you, love! The heart in my bosom faints     To think of you, my Queen, My life of life, my saint of saints,     My Dark Rosaleen!     My own Rosaleen! To hear your sweet and sad complaints, My life, my love, my saint of saints,     My Dark Rosaleen! Woe and pain, pain and woe,     Are my lot, night and noon, To see your bright face clouded so,     Like to the mournful moon. But yet will I rear your throne     Again in golden sheen; ‘Tis you shall reign, shall reign alone,     My Dark Rosaleen!     My own Rosaleen! ‘Tis you shall have the golden throne, ‘Tis you shall reign, and reign alone,     My Dark Rosaleen! Over dews, over sands,     Will I fly, for your weal: Your holy delicate white hands     Shall girdle me with steel. At home, in your emerald bowers,     From morning’s dawn till e’en, You’ll pray for me, my flower of flowers,     My Dark Rosaleen!     My fond Rosaleen! You’ll think of me through daylight hours My virgin flower, my flower of flowers,     My Dark Rosaleen! I could scale the blue air,     I could plough the high hills, Oh, I could kneel all night in prayer,     To heal your many ills! And one beamy smile from you     Would float like light between My toils and me, my own, my true,     My Dark Rosaleen!     My fond Rosaleen! Would give me life and soul anew,     My Dark Rosaleen! O, the Erne shall run red,     With redundance of blood, The earth shall rock beneath our tread,        And flames wrap hill and wood, And gun-peal and slogan-cry     Wake many a glen serene, Ere you shall fade, ere you shall die,     My Dark Rosaleen!     My own Rosaleen! The Judgement Hour must first be nigh, Ere you can fade, ere you can die,     My Dark Rosaleen!