Quotes by American Authors - Page 3192

And [Benji] cheats on you, Beck. A lot. Compulsively. He is in intense pursuit of a performance artist who fucks with his head the way he fucks with yours.

That friend of hers has got to go, though. You're lucky you got stuck with that Dexter guy instead of

Candice had been writing for two days’ straight, working on her publisher’s book deadline, when she wrote the end, smiled, and set the book aside. She would start proofing it tomorrow after she’d given her brain a break. Now she’d do what she always did when she finished a book, or reached a good stopping point in one. Clean house. Check her backlog of emails. Pick up some more groceries. And take a run on the wolf side.She finished vacuuming and dusting, swearing every window must let all the outdoors in, and then started a batch of gingerbread cookie cutouts to celebrate finishing another book and the Christmas holiday season. While they were baking, she finally settled down to check her emails. Fan mail always came first, and one from her website got her attention right off. She opened it up and read: Hello, I’m Owen Nottingham, private investigator for White River Investigations, White River Falls, Minnesota and my client, Strom Hart, hired me to locate you. Your parents, John and Cynthia Hart, left you an inheritance and you need to see the lawyer about it so that you can claim it. I need to verify that you are the right woman first. Is there any way that we can possibly meet and get this taken care of so you can collect your inheritance? Strom Hart will be the one to receive it by the end of the month otherwise. His assistant, Jim Winchester, said Mr. Hart is your uncle.”She reread the message again, not believing her eyes, tears filling them. She quickly looked at the date of the message. Two days ago! She knew she shouldn’t have neglected her emails, but when she was into the story, she couldn’t break away.She ground her teeth, raised her fingers to respond, and heard a knocking at her door. No one came here. Never. Ever. Not even salesmen.She glanced at her phases-of-the moon calendar. The waxing gibbous was just beginning. She should be fine. Just to be on the safe side, in case the person at the door was trouble, she pulled a can of mace from her desk drawer and headed for the door. She peered through the peephole. A handsome black-haired man waited at the door, with rugged features and intense blue eyes. He was dressed in a black suit, a red shirt, and a dark purple tie covered in red, purple, and gold Christmas balls. She raised her brows.“I’m Owen Nottingham,” he said to the door, holding up his PI license and driver’s license. He couldn’t know that she was watching him, so he must have hoped she was there, observing him. “I tried getting hold of you on your contact form on your website about your inheritance. Your contact form might not be working, so I had to locate you in person.”So this was the man who had sent the message. But was he for real? He had to be. He wouldn’t have come all this way to see her if he wasn’t. But how had he found her? She opened the door, the bells jingling on her Christmas wreath, and he glanced down at the can of mace in her hand. He smiled, his gaze holding hers with such intensity, it was as though he could see clear through to her soul. “Really, just a PI doing my job.”A chilly breeze carried his scent to her. Wolf scent. She felt so lightheaded all at once, she grabbed the door to keep herself upright, and dropped the can of mace on the tile floor. It clattered, but she couldn’t reach for it if her life depended on it. Oh. My. God.This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be real. No wonder he was talking to the door. He must have heard her footfalls as she’d approached.He took a deep breath at the same time and his eyes widened in surprise when he smelled her scent. His hand shot out to grab her arm and steady her. For a minute, as she tried to control her breathing, her heart rate, neither of which she could steady. She felt like she was going to pass out.“Hell, you’re the wolf I saw across the White River, aren’t you?

Write what you know. That should leave you with a lot of free time.

I remain in a state of surrender knowing the Universe is supporting me in creating a life I love.

Even in the grave, all is not lost.

Life didn’t go how I had planned, but I couldn’t have planned a better life. Somewhere in between the beginning and eternity, I fought the war that we all must fight–the journey that in ttaking, forces us to come face to face with our own realities.

...light overcomes darkenss. A tiny match can illuminate the darkest room. As long as there is some light somewhere in the universe, [darkness] can be defeated.

I missed you like I’ve never missed anyone. I missed the future I was going to have with you. I missed the feeling of having you in my arms like this. I missed hearing your voice and seeing your face and sleeping next to you. I missed all of it because I was sure it was gone.

In German one of the terms for imagination is the compound word Einbildungskraft: literally, the "power ( Kraft)" of "forming ( Bildung)" into "one (Ein)." Here I want us to reflect about faith as a kind of imagination. Faith forms a way of seeing our everyday life in relation to holistic images of what we may call the ultimate environment. Human action always involves responses and initiatives. We shape our action ( our responses and initiatives) in accordance with what we see to be going on. We seek to fit our actions into, or oppose them to , larger patterns of action and meaning. Faith, in its binding us to centers of value and power and in its triadic joining of us into communities of shared trusts and loyalties, gives forms and content to our imaging of an ultimate environment.

The goal of our lives should be nothing less that becoming so familiar with the "mind of Christ" that we could write Jesus' speeches.

Sex: the thing that takes up the least amount of time and causes the most amount of trouble.

Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God.

A myth... is a metaphor for a mystery beyond human comprehension. It is a comparison that helps us understand, by analogy, some aspect of our mysterious selves. A myth, in this way of thinking, is not an untruth but a way of reaching a profound truth.

She was as lovely sleeping as she was dripping in sensuality at the fundraiser

It's always the people who strive to find, and tell you about one of your imperfections, that want to feel one step above you. The truth is their ten steps below you with nothing better to say.

Love is a perpetual journey that is extraordinary because it will never find itself terminated by a destination.

AH I know is what I see in the papers.

This was about more than semantics; it represented a dangerous shift in perspective.Rio was not at war, I pointed out; and even if it were, wars have rules.

Welcome to the fascinating world of the undead! Please use this guidebook as ahandy reference as you make your first steps toward eternity. Inside you will findinformation on vampire nutrition, relationships, and safety. But before learningabout your future, a word about our past…—From The Guide for the Newly Undead

This is often the way one moves into the future. For what you begin to see, there is no ready language. If you were to remain silent, listen, perhaps in response you might be able to move in a new way. Glide into it slowly, aware of every slight difference, skin and cells intelligent, reading. But trained as you are in certain regimens, chances are you proceed directly according to the old patterns, trying again what was tried before.

The city was lovely. There could be no place in the world to which he belonged so completely.That was why he'd always dreamed of leaving, and why he'd always been so afraid to go.

The test of enjoyment is the remembrance which it leaves behind.

Survival strategy. If you’re not careful, this place will eat you alive, and Kaylee’s like bait for the beasts.

I was disoriented by the idea that men should ever leave the forest.

I know not by what power I am drawn to you, but it is as a moth is drawn to the flame, and I cannot fight it, I must be consumed.

Hammer", I finished lamely, as he waited patiently for my thoughts to find their voice, "we have got to find better words for the things we have in our hearts.""Words seem to be weak things," he murmured into my hair, and I could only hope our hearts would prove stronger.

The further you go, the more you have to be proud of. At the same time, in order to come a long way, you have to be behind to begin with. IN the end, though maybe it's not how you reach a place that matters. Just that you get there at all.

Are you following Christ's ambitions for your life or expecting Him to help you reach yours?

Harold Bloom weeps for me.

Works of art imitate and provoke other works of art, the process is the source of art itself.

It's not that I believe everything happens for a reason, it's just that...I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It's the universe's way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It's how life is.

I am overachieving at aimlessness, I am a type-A, alpha-girl lollygagger, the leader of a gang of heartbroken kids, running wild across this lonely strip of amusements, each of us smarting from the betrayals of a loved one.

Want a reliable road to emotional and spiritual suicide? Spend your life trying to fit in.

It´s like watching someone do a triple backflip dismount and land on two feet, solid, arms splayed in the air. I know I could never do it, don´t even know where I would begin to learn, but some people are built for it. He was handcrafted to leave, had practiced on other women since adolescence. I was one of an unnumbered series.

Cheating was a concept both foreign and integral to the fighting of wars.

If the push towards life sustaining technology were balanced with options for comfort care in both medical school training and the healthcare culture, more people would have the chance to transition to death with dignity and grace.

One day you’re a college graduate, in love with Mr. Right and looking for a job. The next day, your Rambo.”“Your timeline is off. And can we lose the Rambo part?

Be the gardener of love and joy, Happiness will bloom in your garden.

Skypilot could not help but hope that the song of the moon--the song of God's miraculous firmament--might reach her tonight and enable her to feel the reality of Christ's love and sacrifice.

People usually asked her if she had a belly button. Of course she had a belly button. She couldn't explain how. She didn't really want to know.

You are not going to loot a candy shop in the middle of a war!

I don't want you to go back to Miami already."t"You don't? You could have your house all to yourself." Her voice was whisper soft.t"I don't want my house all to myself. I like you in it. I like watching the yoga."t"You could get cable. They have lots of yoga shows on cable."tHe moved a little closer, and she stretched her legs out in front of her. "It would be quite the same as watching it live," he said.

Even a snail will eventually reach its destination.

I can't find the words." She stared daggers at him.t"Don't hurt yourself trying.

I wanted to keep looking at her because I wanted to never take my eyes from her, but still I had tolower my eyes, I was so ashamed that even now Jenny was reading my mind so perfectly.'Listen, that's the only goddamn thing I'm asking, Ollie. Otherwise, I know you'll be okay.' That thing in my gut was stirring again, so I was afraid to even speak the word 'okay.' I justlooked mutely at Jenny.

My religion consists of laughing at myself. My motto is this: As long as there is a me, there is a reason to laugh out loud!

Don’t take the holiness of God lightly, for it is the very essence of His character.

Blame is something that is shared and denied in equal measures.

She had picked up life where she had left off... and hoped that would be enough to get the universe to politely overlook her.

Furthermore, we have not even to risk the adventure alone; for the heroes of all time have gone before us; the labyrinth is thoroughlyknown; we have only to follow the thread of the heropath. And where we had thought to find an abomination, we shall find a god; where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves; where we had thought to travel outward, weshall come to the center of our own existence; where we had thought to be alone, we shall be with all the world.

They would tell you that governments could not manage things as economically as private individuals; they would repeat and repeat that, and think they were saying something! They could not see that “economical” management by masters meant simply that they, the people, were worked harder and ground closer and paid less!They were wage-earners and servants, at the mercy of exploiters whose one thought was to get as much out of them as possible; and they were taking an interest in the process, were anxious lest it should not be done thoroughly enough! Was it not honestly a trial to listen to an argument such as that?And yet there were things even worse. You would begin talking to some poor devil who had worked in one shop for the last thirty years, and had never been able to save a penny; who left home every morning at six o’clock, to go and tend a machine, and come back at night too tired to take his clothes off; who had never had a week’s vacation in his life, had never traveled, never had an adventure, never learned anything, never hoped anything—and when you started to tell him about Socialism he would sniff and say, “I’m not interested in that—I’m an individualist!” And then he would go on to tell you that Socialism was “paternalism,” and that if it ever had its way the world would stop progressing.It was enough to make a mule laugh, to hear arguments like that; and yet it was no laughing matter, as you found out—for how many millions of such poor deluded wretches there were, whose lives had been so stunted by capitalism that they no longer knew what freedom was!And they really thought that it was “individualism” for tens of thousands of them to herd together and obey the orders of a steel magnate, and produce hundreds of millions of dollars of wealth for him, and then let him give them libraries; while for them to take the industry, and run it to suit themselves, and build their own libraries—that would have been “Paternalism”!

The race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the strong - but that's the way to bet.

Will your dad freak if I kiss you good-bye?” he asked.

In our external world we create and attract with our beliefs, thoughts, emotions and perceptions.

Watch people when they win, and you will learn something. But watch them when they lose, and you will learn even more.

Maybe in order to understand sex fully/one has to risk being destroyed by it.

She was beautiful, but her youth, the very awkwardness of her age, prevented her from flaunting it.

Daily life took as much as she had. The future was sunset; the past something to leave behind. And if it didn't stay behind, well, you might have to stomp it out.

A friend is not the shadow that mimics you, but the one who casts all shadows away.