Richelle E. Goodrich Quotes - Page 4

No matter how loud the sirens or how numerous the hazard signs, we all touch the flames at least once to prove they're hot.

My knight may not wear a coat of shining armor, but his code of glowing honor will never fail to protect us both from evils far worse than any fire-breathing dragon.

Never judge another knight without first knowing the strength and cunning of the dragons he fights.

To actively improve the worldand change your life as well,speak all the good you know,and all the bad refuse to tell.

Acknowledge that some moments are just plain awful―desperate and gloomy and painful and miserable and nothing at all but anguish. No truthful, cheerful thought in the world will fix it. So let me cry awhile. Don't try to find a sunbeam where a shroud of darkness encloses me. Let me mourn. Then, after the storm, when the tears have run dry and my eyes choose to open, I will look for your rainbow of hope.

The funny thing about an impossibility is that it tends to be a magnet for those who would prove it otherwise.

It's good to look at life from the bottom up so you can see that things have risen above what they once were.

It is important that we reme

Dear God,I hurt. Please hold me.Amen

I have a funny side. I have a soft and sympathetic side. I have a serious side, and a seriously romantic side. I have lots of sides; it's the main course I haven't quite figured out.

Be nice. And if you can't do that, just don't be mean.

Not every day is awful.Not every day is good.Despite the way the hours passI’m living like I should.Not every day is all wrong.Not every day is right.At least I’m not a spider trying to scamper out of sight.Not every day is ideal.Not every day is bad.At any rate I have my senseseven if they’re mad.Not every day is happy.Not every day is glum.When sadness drags me in the dumpsA simple tune I hum.Not every day I smile.Not every day I frown.With effort, I can take a scowland turn it upside down.Not every day is crazy.Not every day is sane.If consequence nips at my heelsI don’t pass on the blame.Not every day is giddy.Not every day is blah.Yet I can still appreciatea giggle and guffaw.Not every day is timid.Not every day is proud.I may not be a dragonbut I roar about as loud.Not every day has rainbows.Not every day has rain.Despite the fact I’m stiff and sore,I’m not in chronic pain.On every day the sun shines,so every night I praythat I might see the morning lightand live another day.

Dogs are loyal friends, and if they could talk, your secrets would still be safe. (If my cat could talk, I’d have to let the dog eat her.)

You baffle me, addle me, drive me insane. You muddle, befuddle, and rattle my brain. My senses are mad, Skewed judgment to blame.You drive me half stark-raving bonkers!(But the truly crazy thing is how I love it.)

Gratitude doesn't change the scenery.  It merely washes clean the glass you look through so you can clearly see the colors.

You can't argue with insanity. You can stare at it, gaping and incredulous, but arguing with it is futile.

Effective parenting requires being the grown up version of what you want your children to be. Why? Because example is the most compelling superpower.

So you had a bad day. Kick it aside and be grateful for one less bad day to pass through.

It's easy to offer advice on trials that have caused you to stumble. It's harder to talk about those that have knocked you flat.

Obsessing over something that has jarred your world is called coping.

A pumpkin lives but once a year when someone sets its soul afire and on that night it stirs up fear until its flame is snuffed.But e'en one night of eerie light is fright enough.

My fingers combed through my dark hair, short and straight, landing in choppy, uneven ends nearly level with my chin. The color reminded me of every evil character in any fairytale. It seemed all were characteristically black; black hair, black eyes, black clothing, black demeanors, and black intent. I never thought I was truly a villainous character, not like I knew my father to be, but I was his offspring and devoid of any princess-like characteristics, so that left only the wicked side of the story to play. In my dreams, though, I imagined myself more like Snow White―wavy, raven hair, a perfectly fair complexion, bathed in rose scents, and exhibiting a natural feminine grace that would dance musical circles around both Ginger and Elizabeth. No, I never hoped for such a thing to be real, but I dared to pretend it with perfect clarity in my dreams.

When I finally find that one willing agent, I'll have found my prize in the Cracker Jack box.

Optimism: That effervescent, blindingly- bright, perky, chipper, twittering quality you want to squash out of annoying people.

The earth provides us a brand new beginning every twenty-four hours. It is a repeated invitation to breathe in the cool morning air and start afresh; to mimic the sunrise and brighten up while reaching once more for the sky; to carry a glad song in our heart like the early birds; and, as faithfully as the morning dew, to wash off the dust from yesterday.

I have lost my spark, I'm told, and should seek to rekindle it.  Respecting the messenger, I wonder if this is true.  I feel as if my spark endures, but having opened up to the world so bright, perhaps it no longer shines by comparison.  So, without a word, I slip back into seclusion to nurture my beautiful inner glow.

Prove that you love me through a lingering gaze and never losing that twinkle of adoration in your eyes.

Authors always carry a means for scribbling and an excuse for pausing, often inopportunely, to record those fleeting sparks of creative fancy that might otherwise vanish like a wisp in the wind if ignored.  Writing is a jealous and needy lover.

Reality and fantasy are not two separate spheres but one whole. They are like a world's atmosphere―reality behaving as a low front, fantasy a high front. Each remains somewhat distinguishable and yet they swirl and join, affecting and manipulating the other. One cannot perceive where reality ends and fantasy begins, but life would grow stagnant and die without the influence of both.

Years ago, a group of good, wise, brave, God-fearing men stood up to claim and defend the human right for independence. Those men are now dead. Their work is not. If good, wise, brave, God-fearing men fail to stand up in their stead, that independence will cease to exist.

When problems beat upon you like a raging storm, search for the eye. You might not be able to avoid misfortunes, but you can find the calmest spot within them.

I do listen. I just wait for the words to stop and your eyes to speak.

Mary and Josephhuddle snugly together.They cradle God's son.

There are those who fear the sunset, worried they will never see light again. There are those who ignore the sunrise, squandering dawn, believing they will never run out of daylight. And then there are those who have learned to live in the sun's warmth, gauging time by its positions, thankful at night that the day happened. Be aware of time. Use it wisely. Be thankful for the light allotted.

Sipping teawith gleebeneath a gooseberry tree.I wish Alice were here.Oh, my dear,do not fear,she will be.

Mr. Cat and Mr. Dog were neighbors who fought like, well, cats and dogs. That is until Mr. Rat moved in. It's fascinating how easily two enemies ally at the introduction of a third.

It's a sweet thing to sit quietly in the early-morning darkness and talk to God for a while. It's amazing what you gain from the conversation.

Though I may accumulate a great deal of riches in this world, it is only my wealth of knowledge, talents, and emotional bonds that I keep when I leave.

You think I read your thoughts, but it's your eyes that speak to me. When they glisten with moisture, I see a depth of emotion stirring behind them. One tearful glance begs me for a reassuring embrace. When your gaze glazes over like a misty morning, I know I've lost you to personal cares. A sharp, narrow look will keep me at bay while a wink and twinkle and the flirty flutter of your dark eyelashes invite my company. The strength and duration of a stare gives your feelings towards me away. And when those wary eyes dart to avoid my notice, all of your hidden secrets are betrayed.

I am grateful for hands to tickle with. Not so grateful for that process in reverse, however.

Write at a pace that doesn't surpass your creative flow. Don't be hasty; don't be sloppy. Don't forfeit impressive writing for an impressive word count. Because eventually it will all have to be edited, and you'll find that it is harder to make bad writing good than to make good writing better.

If you couldn't sense heat, you'd not be alive. And if that heat never grew uncomfortable, you would never move. And if you were stagnant—unchallenged by unpredictable flares—you would never grow capable of shielding yourself from harsher flames. So yes, life was meant to drag you straight through the fire.

Bad habits are demons that often push us into isolation because they know that in our loneliness they stand little chance of being overcome.

I bleed words.I dream in narrative. I live in infinite worlds.I befriend figmental characters.I wish on stars in other galaxies.I harvest stories from a brooding muse.I bloom under moonlight in hushed seclusion.I am a writer.

The elixir of life is a bubbling stream of laughter.

Fear is the devil's most powerful tool because he can't always convince a good man to do wrong, but he can paralyze his will with fright, keeping a good man from doing what is right. It eventually results in the same end.

There is a sky full of stars aplenty, and all you can babble about is a cold, little rock we call the moon. This is how it is with petty problems that exist too close to us.

The reason people fail to reach their goals is because they give up too early. They don't understand that most successes are built upon foundations of multiple attempts.

I think I'd rather be liked than loved. It just seems as if more criticism and chastening is shown to those we love, while kind manners and compassion are reserved for those we simply like. So, I hope you like me.

Yes, happiness is dependent upon misery. For we all feel a swell of happiness after our circumstances improve from a misery recently suffered.

Barking at people earns their respect about as effectively as staring into the sun improves your vision.

I wish everyone had someone who never popped their balloons.

When gossip starts, be deaf.

Kindness is going out of your way to perform favors regarded as wonderful by the recipient.

It's frustrating when our best efforts to help people fail. But if we could see life through their weary eyes and experience their trials with the same frayed emotions, we might understand why.

What is this thing of intangible substance that wreaks consequential havoc on our lives? What is this sensitive thread that runs through heart and mind, and when given the slightest tremor grasps hold of all sanity, dragging the afflicted down to insufferable depths or flinging him weightless to euphoric heights? What is this magic we would deem imagination, fantasy, or pretend if not for the evidence of power manifest by human consequences? Effortlessly controlling us, it affects the infected in an instant. It takes but one word, one thought, one act to become immersed. To stop it is hopeless. To stifle it, demanding. To think to master it is both improbable and pretentious. What is this invisible hand that blinds our eyes and reigns hearts with a string? It is nature's drug and poison we call emotion.

Theories look great on paper until reality scribbles all over the page.

There are many roads in this world that will guide you to pleasurable, fun, and exciting destinations that do not end in any form of lasting happiness. So before you step on an enticing path, figure out where it leads.

Do we ignore the needyto spite the greedy?Or share and defenddespite those who pretend?

If you suffer lingering doubts; if the consolation you cling to is ‘it will probably be okay,’ then run the other way because what you’re contemplating is not a good choice.