Who Owns Az Quotes

Don't pay attention to people Who tell you can't do it at lenght. Trusting your own instincts Can lead to what's quintessential. Make their limitation be your strenght. You might as well contradict them And then reach your full potential.

So he'd waited. Counted the minutes. It had been worth it. Seeing her claw her way onto the landing, panting, hair curling with the sweat sliding down her face- completely worth his generally shit day. Nesta was still sprawled on the hall floor when she hissed, 'Whoever designed those stairs was a monster.' 'Would you believe that Rhys, Az, and I had to climb up and down them as punishment when we were boys?' Her eyes shimmered with temper- good. Better than the vacant ice. 'Why?' 'Because we were young and stupid and testing boundaries with a High Lord who didn't understand practical jokes regarding public nudity.' He nodded toward the stairs. 'I got so dizzy on the hike down that I puked on Az. he then puked on Rhys, and Rhys puked all over himself. It was the height of summer, and by the time we made the trek back up, the heat was unbearable, we all reeked, and the scent of the vomit on the stairs had become horrific. We all puked again as we walked through it.' He could have sworn the corners of her mouth were trying to twitch upward. He didn't hold back his own grin at the memory. Even if they'd still had to hike back down and mop it all up.

She’s been involved in politics for the last few years, though,” A.Z. mused. “Makes for strange bedfellows.” A vision of Anderson in his red bikini briefs flared briefly in Lillian’s mind. “You can say that again.” “We’ll replace the camera, A.Z,” Gabe said. “In the meantime, you have our full report. The bottom line is that there was no sign of heavy-duty lab equipment in the new wing and we found no evidence of frozen extra-terrestrials. If those alien bodies were moved into the institute, they’ve got them well-hidden.” “Figures,” Arizona nodded sagely. “Should’ve known it wouldn’t be this easy. We’ll just have to keep digging. Maybe literally, if they’ve hidden the lab underground.” “A scary thought,” Lillian murmured. “My work will continue,” Arizona assured them. “Meanwhile, thanks for the undercover job. Couldn’t have done it without you. Unfortunately, you’ll never get the public recognition you deserve because we have to maintain secrecy.” “We understand,” Gabe said. Arizona nodded. “But I want you to understand your names will be legend among the ranks of those of us who seek the truth about this vast conspiracy.” “That’s certainly good enough for me,” Lillian said quickly. “How about you, Gabe?” “Always wanted to be a legend in my own time,” Gabe said. “We don’t want any public recognition,” Lillian added, eager to emphasize the point. “Just knowing that we did our patriotic duty is all the reward we need. Isn’t that right, Gabe?” “Right,” Gabe got to his feet. “Publicity would be a disaster. If our identities as secret agents were exposed, it would ruin any chance of us helping you out with future undercover work.” Lillian was almost to the door. “Wouldn’t want that.” “True,” Arizona said. “Never known when we might have to call on you two again.

We both should go with you,' Rhys amended. 'But at least Azriel will be there.' 'Thanks for your confidence,' Cassian said wryly, and kissed Feyre's cheek. Rhys must have lowered her shield- for the moment. 'You two aren't even parents yet and your mother-henning has reached an unbearable level.' 'Mother-henning?' Feyre choked on a laugh. 'It's a word,' Cassian said, so casually that Nesta wondered if he comprehended the danger they were walking into. Nesta slid her gaze to Azriel, who shrugged subtly in confirmation. Yes, they were about to venture into a lethal, ancient bog. No, Cassian didn't seem as disturbed as the two of them were. Nesta scoffed, and Az offered her a slight smile They could be allies, that smile seemed to say. Against Cassian's utter insanity. She found herself answering Azriel with a slight smile of her own.

Oh praise to men who can do what they judge to be good and pleasurable, who dare act in ways that make them feel good! To men who dare become what they desire to be! Praise to those who are capable of living wholly as themselves! To those who fulfill the law, saying: 'This is how I want it to be!' If this filthy existence has any value, it is no more than that of being able to do what we want and to do unhindered what we have the capacity for. Honor to all who dare and can, in whatever way, live according to the command of their own desires. All honor to them!

We don't stick our noses into things that are none of our business. We just live our own everyday lives, sometimes better, sometimes worse, and well, if you please, that is all. Time slips by, doesn't it, and when we shall all vanish, nobody will know about us, who we really were. They won't write about us in books. We lived, and everything ends with just that. We didn't perform any great deeds, as they say. We weren't heroes or villains. We just kept trying to live so nobody would have trouble with us and so we wouldn't, if possible, cause any trouble for others. That's all.

Why?” He knew what I meant. “Mor gets spooked. And what Az did today scared the shit out of her.” “The violence?” “The violence as a result of what he feels, lingering guilt over the deal with Eris—and what neither of them will face.” “Don’t you think it’s been long enough? And that taking Helion to bed is likely the worst possible thing to do?” But I had no doubt Helion needed a distraction as much as Mor did. From thinking too long about the people they loved—who they could not have. “Mor and Azriel have both taken lovers throughout the centuries,” he said, wings shifting slightly. “The only difference here is the close proximity.” “You sound remarkably fine with this.” Rhys glanced over a shoulder to where I lingered by the foot of the massive ivory bed, its carved headboard fashioned after overlapping waterlilies. “It’s their life—their relationship. They have both had plenty of opportunities to confess what they feel. Yet they have not. Mor especially. For private reasons of her own, I’m sure. My meddling isn’t going to make it any better.” “But—but he loves her. How can he sit idly by?” “He thinks she’s happier without him.” His eyes shone with the memory—of his own choice to sit back. “He thinks he’s unworthy of her.” “It seems like an Illyrian trait.

Az took advantage of Madi’s position, curling against him, his arm snaking around the man’s waist and pulling him back into him. “What the fuck are you doing?” Madigan whispered, sounding vaguely horrified. Az frowned. “An ancient Pakistani death ritual,” he snarked before answering Madi’s question with the most obvious answer. “Sleeping, what does it look like I’m doing?” Madigan snorted. “Snuggling me. You think I’m going to let you turn me into the little spoon? I am not a little spoon.” Az smiled in the dark. Most often, when one of them spent the night, they kept to their own side of the bed, making it far easier for one of them to slink off, leaving the other none the wiser. But not this time. This time, Madigan would not be slinking off in the dead of night, Az would make certain of it. “You would prefer big spoon? I am not one to get hung up on things such as this. Big spoon, little spoon, teaspoon, soup spoon. It’s all the same to me. I didn’t think you’d be so toxically masculine, but I suppose it does not surprise me coming from a man who nearly let me fuck him with a knife handle.

For a person who strives for excellence, one’s own satisfaction is often more valuable than others’ appreciation.

Fatima was given the title of "az-Zahraa" which means "the Resplendent One." That was because of her beaming face, which seemed to radiate light. However, others, who must keep their beliefs prudently concealed, know the Prophet Muhammad's daughter as "Fatima Fatir". In Her own sacred words She utters the truth, "There is no God beside me, neither in divinity nor humanity, neither in the Heavens nor on earth, outside of me, who am Fatima - Creator.

The aim of therapy is not to help people transition through a sex change, and nor is it to try to persuade them against having a sex change. Neither of these aims is appropriate as they would indicate an overt or hidden agenda on the part of the therapist, who would not be in a position to help the patient, as their own political, moral or religious ideals would interfere with their ability to adopt an essentially impartial position.