Richelle E. Goodrich Quotes - Page 17

Friends are the real superheroes. They battle our worst enemies—loneliness, grief, anxiety, depression, fear, and doubt—every time they come around.

If you think the most courageous and difficult thing you can do is stubbornly stand your ground, try graciously giving in.

Why is the eye considered a reliable judge when it knows nothing of love or intelligence?

Have you ever noticed how the most intriguing individual in the room seems content to listen sooner than speak?

I love you" means I want you to be happy.

There is no poetry without want. Desperate want.

You matter.You are important.There is a reason for your existence.You may not see or understand how this is true, but truth doesn't cease to be truth because of doubt, blindness, or ignor

Stop tormenting Derian.”“Me?” Edgar gaped at her with a clearly fake look of innocence.“Yes, you.”“And what about you? When will you stop tormenting him?” Edgar moved past the young queen to approach the unmoving captain. He circled the man as though he were checking out a statue on display “I’m not tormenting him; why would you say that?”“You have the poor guy believing you actually intend to marry him.” Edgar stopped to fix the captain’s collar, raising it up high and stiff around his

So you want to improve the world? Then do it. To the next person who crosses your path, say something kind, do something generous, perform a simple act of service. By doing this on a regular basis, you will indeed improve the world.

Do you feel that? It is a calm shift in the wind. Do you hear that? It is a soft whisper of hope. Do you see that? It is the divine hand of guidance, mercifully extended to aid our good fight.

A poet is simply an artist whose medium is human emotions.  A poet chisels away at our own sensibilities, shaping our vision while molding our hearts.  A poet wraps words around our own feelings and presents them as fresh gifts to humanity.

Statistics, likelihoods, and probabilities mean everything to men, nothing to God.

Hindsight is always easier than the dreadful moment of decision.

To love her was to taste sweet surrender. For had she not entered his life, he would have sought the wonders of both Heaven and Earth. But she surpassed them all and, by her pleasing nature, stayed him.

If your best friend truly is the person who knows you completely and loves you anyway, wouldn't that be your mother?

A liar deceives himself more than anyone, for he believes he can remain a person of good character when he cannot.

Mothers were meant to love us unconditionally, to understand our moments of stupidity, to reprimand us for lame excuses while yet acknowledging our point of view, to weep over our pain and failures as well as cry at our joy and successes, and to cheer us on despite countless start-overs. Heaven knows no one else will.

To love is to accept a soul entirely, not wishing that the person was otherwise, nor hoping for change, nor clinging to some ideal past. To love is to cherish the individual standing before you presently―charms, quirks, and all. To love is to give someone a piece of your heart that you will never, ever reclaim.

The pleasures of being a novelist are many.  But the greatest by far is the manner in which I live through my characters; experiencing every detail of their story as it unfolds gradually and personally within my own creative psyche.  I'm like a cat with untold lives, because each new book is my rebirth.

Laugh as if it's funny, embrace as if it's love, and smile anyway.

There should ne’er be a timeWhen a duty or dimeDoth outshineThe importance of family.

I love you because you loved me first. Yet you love me, saying I loved you first. Funny, our love thrives believing the other person started it.

Me"( Notice Me)I was sent here on a journey that has no end.I hear you joke of going nowhere fast.Well, maybe life’s a joke and I’m the foolThat dreams of being first but ends up last.Life’s a trial—a sentence I can’t escape.Confusion and desperation tear me down and turn to hate.There’s so much more to figure out,But it’s growing way too late.If I could answer half the questions in my mind,If I could find the place where I belong,If words were near as strong and deep as the wall of emotions I climbThen sorrow wouldn’t be so wrong.There’s no way to make you understand.An entire symphony could not play the broken notes in one child’s soul.That child screams and no one hears her,Until the tears have dried and now she’s just too old.I don’t want to hear the philosophies, the opinions,The remarks, the horrible reasonings.Words are to pad the mind and fight with the solitude of the heart.Still, silence chills to the bone and tears the soul apart.She never means to hurt or harm, only to belong.To find the truth ‘mid mortal lies, to sing her only song.But someday this race will end, and if she comes in last,I pray the first will look deeper than the others, smile, and then pass."Copyright 1985

You are right, I do fall down a lot. But that wouldn’t be true if I never stood back up.

I don't understand why when I wish for happiness it inevitably rains. However, I do tend to find myself grateful for sunlight once the storm ceases.

Stubbornness is surely just taut-jawed, clenched-fisted madness.

My stomach rumbles.Plates of cookies, cake, and fudge.Christmastime is here.

Imagine fantasy and pretend as neither fantastical nor pretended.....and then believe it.

Hope is the fuel within all human souls.Eliminate hope—nothing moves, nothing grows.

Sympathy is imagining the pain. Empathy is having suffered through it first.

It turns out the simplest choices have been far more important in the long run than I ever imagined.

It seems there's confusion at this time of yearregarding the reason for Christmas.From shopping for presents to spreading good cheer,the world makes an overly huge fuss.But Christmas is not for the gifts we exchange.It's not about sleigh rides or sweet candy canes.Nay, Christmas is simple. A time to recallChrist's gift of atonement He gave to us all.

My goals may seem impossibly far-fetched when really they're not. Break them down into steps and see how I accomplish great things. I can easily reach from A to B. I can manage from B to C. I can then make it from C to D. And so eventually, I will find my way from A to Z.

You never step backwards when you’re sure of where you’re going.

You will find there are times you must grasp your life with both hands and forcefully steer it in a new direction and then strain to hold your course until the storms of fear, weakness, and doubt abate.

You made me laugh at your jokes.You made me cry at your criticism.You made me shout at your lies.Then I noticed how in every case someone else was present, hearing you without laughter or tears or anger.I alone reacted.I see now; you never made me laugh or cry or rage.I chose to find humor.I chose to take offense.I chose to feel scorned.The truth is, you never had power over me.

Sound.Noisethe air employs.Melodies sweet.Tweet, tweet, tweet.Soft. Loud.A roaring crowd.Cluck. Caw. Crow.Tet, tet. Tis, tis.Guttural growl.Harrowing howl.Drip, drip, drip.Tap, tap, tap.Moan and groan.Endless drone.Ding, dang, dong.A church bell song.Vibrations in my earto hear.Sound.

Mothers care in volumes of tears and earnestness of prayers and a depth of emotion others cannot fathom.

Since when is failure more appealing? Never give up.

Fear confronted me, and I stood paralyzed. He seemed a formidable, abiding presence. Then a voice whispered, “Fear not.” Fear not, I thought with desperate longing. Oh, how I wanted to heed those words—but how? Hour after hour, day after day, fear refused to budge while I remained paralyzed. And so I let him make my choices; what else could I do? Alas, he never once chose well for me.

Fear comes at me like a massive bull with lowered horns ready to gore. But I have learned of the insubstantial nature of fear: if I stand my ground, it will pass right through me.

This thing that troubles you is only one small part of your life. Don't allow it to be all-consuming when there's so much more to embrace.

Laughter and love are their own forms of exercise meant to keep a body healthy.

We live our lives supposing things are as they appear to be when that is almost never the case.

There are things known—things experienced, felt, and understood—that words hold no power to convey. Attempting to do so only dilutes their substance and does them injustice.

Eena!” tRecognizing Ian’s voice, Eena turned to find him approaching her from behind. He was entirely clad in body armor and gauntlets, cradling an open-faced helmet in one arm. Painted on his chest plate was a flaming, gold sword. From his side hung a leather sheath, a golden hilt peeking from the top.t“I’m glad you’re back. You are going to stay and watch us play, aren’t you?” He looked hopeful she’d say yes.tEena smiled brightly. “I didn’t know you were talented enough to be on a dueling team. Nice sword,” she t

Sometimes a problem isn’t really a problem but the solution in disguise.

There are trials in life that feel as tremendous as a quest to slay dragons. These trials are daunting. They require hard work, determination, and courage. But when the dragon is finally slain, the relief is immense.

Happiness found me alone one day and took me by the hand.He showed me how the sun gave out its warmth across the land.Sadness found me content and smiling upward at the sun.He talked of droughts and blindness and what burning rays had done.Happiness found me alone again and pointed to the sky.He showed me how the storms created rainbows way up high.Sadness found me intrigued and took me to the rainbow’s end.He showed me how it disappeared to ne’er return again.Happiness found me alone and taught me how to sing a song.He sang a dozen melodies as I chirped right along.Sadness found me singing out and covered up his ears.He said the noise was deafening, and wished he couldn’t hear.Happiness found me alone and gave me seven coins of gold.He showed me many fancy things that merchants often sold.Sadness found me admiring the pretty things I’d bought.He pointed out my empty purse and money I had not.Happiness found me alone and helped me talk to someone new.He called the boy my friend and said that I was his friend too.Sadness found me together with my kind, attentive friend.He whispered of betrayal and how broken hearts don’t mend.Happiness found me alone and held me tight in his embrace.He whispered kindness in my ear and kissed me on the face.Sadness found me with Happiness but before he spoke at all,I told him he’d have better luck at talking to the wall.

To believe in yourself is to light a spark with the potential to start a fire.

Some books mirror reality while others are entirely fantasy. My favorite are those that manage to weave both into a world.

Small steps may appear unimpressive, but don't be deceived. They are the means by which perspectives are subtly altered, mountains are gradually scaled, and lives are drastically changed.

I'm not saying that I think one man is better than the other. I'm not saying that either is kinder or wiser or more ambitious, more thoughtful, confident, or able. But the fact is that when I'm with the one, comfort settles into my bones. I feel calm around him, as if the sun is smiling down on me and the world has suddenly become a sweet, safe place to be. I feel good about life―about myself. And it's hard not to want to be near someone who, just by their very nature, makes you feel that way.

Imagine the greatness this world would know if kindness were as contagious and enduring as the common cold.

Is anything truly impossible? Or is it that the path to our goals appears too unclear to follow? It seems to me that if you seek hard enough, pray hard enough, you usually stumble across a scattering of breadcrumbs that marks the trail leading to the goal you once considered beyond your reach.

How insane we are as humans when having received a nasty offense we return the same awful offense. If given an apple found to be rotten and wormy, would we not toss it aside rather than force a soul to eat it? Offenses should be discarded, not returned.

Life isn't all grand, but it isn't all miserable either.  There's both sweet and sour in every day.  So why focus on the ugly when you can gaze at what's beautiful?  Concentrate on the good.

It may seem like the dragons tormenting you are bigger and fiercer than those lurking in your neighbor’s yard, but this is an illusion. We all face mighty dragons at home in some form.

Courage to me is doing something daring, no matter how afraid, insecure, intimidated, alone, unworthy, incapable, ridiculed or whatever other paralyzing emotion you might feel. Courage is taking action.....no matter what. So you're afraid? Be afraid. Be scared silly to the point you're trembling and nauseous, but do it anyway!

It seems a peculiar thing when I go to fill my own cup; it remains empty as if the liquid evaporates as soon as it touches the glass. Yet when I reach to top off the cups of others, my own spills over. This is the crazy magic of charity.