Richelle E. Goodrich Quotes - Page 5

No one is born a sprinter. We all learn to push ourselves up from the floor and then balance before taking that first, wobbly step. It is an individual choice where to go from there.

Don't give up.I know you've made a thousand attempts to reach your goal, but look at it this way: after repeatedly banging your head against the wall, you ought to be numb enough break through this time.

No matter what you write, no matter how meticulous and painstaking the creation process, someone is going to laugh, scorn, and dissect your work with criticism while another quietly falls in love with it.

Hatred is prevalent on this earth because it requires no real effort, unlike the investment it takes to genuinely understand a person.

You are not my sunshine. Sorry. You're more like a gust of arctic wind that bursts in and blows out all the candles when the door cracks open.

It’s not a dream, it’s my destiny.

Death was a quiet evil, unavoidable like the dark night and defenseless sleep and tearful sorrows. It had hunted her down and slithered close, wanting only to smother every last flicker of

Nothing can squelch your fire except turning your back on the thing that fuels it.

There are times you find yourself standing by the wayside, watching as someone struggles to dig a well with a spoon, and you wish with all your heart you had arms and a shovel.

Most are unaware of their tremendous worth and boundless potential, despite possessing both.

Your efforts extend like ripples on the ocean, much further than you know.

It is my belief that almost anyone can be had with breadcrumbs. For if you leave a trail of the right variety, your prey will come straight to you.

Your body and spirit, subconscious and conscious—every portion of you recognizes home.  That is why on the moment of arrival, your entire being relaxes into a contented puddle of joy.

Hey, pretty book, why don’t you lie in my lap awhile?

If I must start somewhere, right here and now is the best place imaginable.

I'm going on a diet.  (Crud, I know)I am going to be cranky. I am going to be irritable.I am going to be moody and sad and mean. And, yes, I am going to be hungry. Please don't feed me, even if I try to bite you. Please don't tease me, I may hurt you.Please don't try to encourage me, I may growl and snap at you. Please don't help me, I may blame you for everything aggravating in the known universe.  Please don't be offended by my scowl, I cannot smile.  But most importantly, please keep your distance until this trial is over to prevent any unnecessary casualties. Thank you for your understanding. 

Love is the ultimate no-calorie sweetener.

This is me today, but take heed; it is not the same me as yesterday, and it will not be the same me tomorrow.

My soul, I’ve found, has puppet strings to make me droop or give me wings.And music is the puppeteerthat turns my ear to hear.

The moon is my fear.The sun is my heart afire.The stars, my love songs.

Nothing remains idle and thrives. Life needs a moving force to prevent the devastating effects of stagnancy. That is why life employs change.

You can add up your blessings or add up your troubles. Either way, you'll find you have an abundance.

Children harbor a great many doubts and sorrows that could be eased by a loving hug from a parent.

One thing I've learned is that in the midst of your darkest moments of tribulation, there is no such thing as mass friends.

The further you descend into a pit, the darker things appear. You can't keep digging to find the light.

He gestured at me. “Do you like the blanket?”I nodded. “It’s warm.”“I made it. Well, actually, I didn’t skin the animal, but I did kill it….after the others pinned it down. It’s werewolf skin.”My heart faltered; I gripped at a wad of black fur.“I slayed the beast for you, Catherine. I used your sword. It was your grandmother’s idea actually, a wedding present. You mentioned how chilly you g

Some live for their own joy and pleasure. Some live to ease the burdens of others.  Then there are those who seem to exist for pain's sake only, that in the end the wrathful fire sent to consume their oppressors will be justified."~ In loving memory of Miss Annabelle Fancher

Why is it that at the very moment I need to appear graceful I stumble and fall like a klutz, as though this scene had never played through my mind differently a million times?

You made a choice—a single choice. How neat to think you may have opened the door to a wondrous future without knowing.

When there is not enough time to do your best, do the best you can with the time you have.

Oh, mightiest wind,wilt thou cease thy breathing inand hold thy exhales?

Hate is loud. Love, however, is so pleasantly felt it has no need to be heard.

Eena turned aside, breathing shallowly as her mind raced with questions. She was glad he couldn’t read the confusion that swooped her up like a passing tornado. Was it even possible to genuinely love more than one man? Yes. Oh, yes.She knew it because her heart irrefutably felt it. She loved Derian; it was true. She wasn’t trying to convince herself of it, no matter what Edgar said. She yearned deeply for her captain. But she loved Ian too. She always had. Only she purposefully, appropriately, had set those feelings aside when he made the decision to pursue Angelle. But Angelle was gone now. No, Eena thought to herself, this changes nothing. She scolded her heart for longing for something spent and ended, for even considering the possibility. Her with Ian? No, no, it had to remain in the past.

I learn by doing....the same thing over and over and over again countless times.

What kind of person is void of compassion? A heartless one. But alas, compassion cannot exist without the endurance of afflictions.

Life is a fierce duel with emotions and a slow war with psychology.

Don't lick your wounds unless you care to taste the sting a second time.

On a grim and dismal day that shattered my last ounce of confidence, I broke down and whimpered, “I’m awful and hideous and incompetent and boring and utterly useless.” And then you grinned at me and said, “That’s okay.

If I were to sit on the ocean floor and look toward the sky,I might see a whale or electric eel or octopus pass by.And if I decided to jump straight up and reach with open arms,I might feel the pleasure of ocean flight propel me ’mid their swarms.But if I were seated upon the shore and looking toward the stars,I might see a comet or falling star near Mercury or Mars.Then if I decided to jump straight up and reach with open hands,I might feel despair when my feet refused to leave the shoreline sand.And so I return to the ocean depths where swimming creatures fly,For there I can soar with the whales and fish that daily touch the sky.

You can capture this body of mine, take away my freedom and enslave me. You may even have the power to capture my soul and sentence me to the realm of eternal darkness. But my dreams you cannot touch. They are my will―the very essence of who I am. In them I laugh. In them I cry. In them I love. And in them.....I live.My dreams are untouchable and unceasing.

Time is an imp—a pesky, little, hellish troll that hastens the clock when I smile but then delays the passing of minutes when I frown.

We live that we might have experience; that through it we might gain wisdom, compassion, faith, and inner strength.

We try so hard to instruct our children in all the right things―teaching good from bad, explaining choices and consequences―when in reality most lessons are learned through observation and experience. Perhaps we'd be better off training our youth to be highly observant.

I wear my wrinkles like battle scars, having earned every last one slaying life’s dragons. They boast of my victories and some defeats while their beauty is a wealth of wisdom gained.

When you open your mouth, listeners are offended.  When you close your mouth, the expectant are offended.  If a person seeks misdoing from you they will find it regardless of whether or not you deliver. 

Every heart has a layer of sadness, whether deeply buried or covering the surface for all to see.

Kresh kept silent beside me as Baron rehearsed his deadly plan. I listened with my eyes aimed at the horizon, witnessing the night consume a final red vein of daylight. It struck me that nightfall always drowned the sunset. Never did the sun resurface from where it sank, nor would it ever.

To laugh continually is to never laugh at all. For it takes the periodic sound of sorrow from which to distinguish the sound of joy.

There are no real start-overs, only start-from-heres.

Kind words and tender affections will not save me from this lake of woe and misery, but they may be enough of a buoy to prevent my drowning.

Every birthday celebrates a life because every life is important.

Enemies may unite to eliminate a common threat, but never without a wary eye fixed on their ally.

A session of boasting won't attract any real friends.  It will set you up on a pedestal, however, making you a clearer target.

Real? Real depends upon your perspective, Annabelle. People never see life exactly the same way. The world is what you think it is.

When you do fall in love with me, Eena, I don’t want it to be because I gave into your demands, but because your heart gave into its desire to truly be loved.” With an injured frown he uttered goodnight and left the room.tShe stood alone, chastised and bruised. It seemed right to apologize for her insensitive words, but not now. Not while a room full of people remained out there.

Take it one step at a time—inarguably wise advice. And yet we all take a running leap, hoping the wind will catch us on its wings and lift us clear to the top of the beanstalk. Those few Jacks who have reached new heights in this manner inevitably wish they had taken more time to prepare for the overbearing giant who greeted them.

Such a nasty bruise,” he says, staring straight into my eyes. I am stunned he can see it. Delicate to the touch and tender on every side, the bruise is deeper than days. My hand automatically moves to my chest.Science taught me with valid assurance that my heart was fixed in my rib cage, but life has since shown me otherwise. My heart in fact dangles from a tangle of strings. The ends are grasped tight by numerous people who yank and release, having caused many painful bruises over time. I cry because they are invisible to most.“Such a nasty bruise,” he repeats, tugging on my poor heart. His kind eyes fall away from mine as I feel a squeeze on my arm. He twists it enough to show me a small, round patch of purple surrounded by a sickly yellowish corona. “Oh. My elbow.” I let the air exhale from my lungs. Another bruise forms where my heart has hit the floor. It is jerked up again. “Can I do anything for you?” I see in his eyes the mirror image of a finger—his finger—wrapped in one of the dangling strings. He tugs and I feel it.“No,” I reply to his question. But it is a lie. There is something he could do, along with all who grasp a portion of the web entangling my heart. I wish they would mercifully let go.

Don't ignore me. I only get more annoying.

Treats and tricks.Witch broomsticks.Jack-o-lanternsLick their lips.Crows and cats.Vampire bats.Capes and fangsAnd pointed hats.Werewolves howl.Phantoms prowl.Halloween’s Upon us now.

It's too bad we're not all teddy bears. More stuffing would only make us cuter and cuddlier.