He found he was a man who repented almost everything, regrets crowding in around him like moths to a light. This was actually the main difference between twenty-one and fifty-one, he decided, the sheer volume of regret.
Yes. There is one God, and he lives in the sky, and he hears all of us. It is just that here on earth, we are confused about how to believe in him. But what does it matter, as long as we trust he is there?
And she loved the way he made her feel, the way her heart beat when he was near, the electricity she felt at his touch, and the nervous butterflies he always caused in her stomach.
Change is difficult, but necessary for salvation. Turn from your sins and acknowledge Jesus as your Lord and Savior. Let Him take control of your life. He won’t let you down. He’s not you. He’s God.
He had found that jealousy – or perhaps the fear of betrayal – was no respecter of age. Indeed, if anything, he thought getting older simply made it worse; he felt more vulnerable now.
He was right: not about her playing him, or about her laughing at him, but certainly about her carelessness, about her casual disregard for how he would feel if he found out, and about the stunning lack of depth it exposed in her character.
If I didn't know any better, I'd say you just defended Christian's honor. Isn't he a pain in the ass? "Yes he is. But for the next 6 weeks he's MY pain in the ass.
Because God doesn't promise the way will be easy-far from it-but He promises to carry us through, to give us the courage and grace we need when we need it. He most often doesn't change the circumstances; He changes us
He was obviously one of those people who felt at home in the world — he was naturally buoyant, where Quentin felt like he had to dog-paddle constantly, exhaustingly, humiliatingly, just to get one sip of air.
Give a man a noble cause and he would fight to the death for what he believed in,but get the woman he loves to leave him and his once honourable principles would cease to be quite so important.
He knows what he'll find if he digs deeper. there's no rush to unpack my insides. he understands there is nothing special about emptiness, nothing interesting about depression.
I went to some classes. Vampire was in the Hair of Magical Magic Creatures. He looked all depressed because Draco had disappeared and he had used to be in love with Draco. He was sucking some blood from a Hufflepuff.
One of the professors told me last week that he feels bad teaching with the way the economy is now. ‘What’s the point?’ he said. ‘Kids aren’t getting jobs.’ You never hear faculty talk that way. He did.
He was the devil in a Sunday hat; he dressed and acted like a civil man, but inside he was just hatred and filth. Then, I guess after what I was planning to do to save a life, I wasn't too dissimilar to him.
Recalling his mother’s endless drudgery, (Senator) Richard (Russell) Jr. was to say that he was ten years old before he saw his mother asleep; previously, he had “thought that mothers never had to sleep.
Nate liked Death. Death was in the clothes that he wore and the music he listened to. He would wrap himself in a black sweater and ask Death to ride along with him in his Honda Civic.
He wanted to heave the glasses against the wall. Break them, break everything he could reach. Beat it, rend it. He stared out the window, imagined the city in flames, consumed to ashes. And still it wasn't enough.
He wished he was doing much more than kissing the back of her silky hand, though throwing her on the bar and devouring her like a man-eater wasn't a wise option. But... he was only human.
I don't like compliments and I don't see why a man should think he is pleasing a woman enormously when he says to her a whole heap of things that he doesn't mean.
A smart woman knows when to listen to her man." Her man? "He is most definitely not my man. He's not my type." "Type? If he was any more your type, he'd have you sitting in his lap.
For the first time, he looked at her, and she wasn’t a stranger, she was Clary—his friend. His family. The girl he’d sworn always to protect. The girl he loved as fiercely as he loved himself.
