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I realized at that moment - observing his form move further away without once turning back - that I’d already begun to rebuild the imaginary wall between us. I was shielding my heart with stone cold feelings again, the only way I knew to protect it. I still planned to try my hand at prayer. If God would grant me this one request, if I could keep my only friend, I would give anything in return, even the treasured books trapped beneath my arm. I’d tasted enough of a dismal life to know that a real, true friend was of greater worth than the collection of every imagined fairytale in the world. ↗
#annabelle-fancher #dandelions #disappointment #friends #friendship
ლოცვა ავთანდილისა ილოცავს, იტყვის: "მაღალო ღმერთო ხმელთა და ცათაო, ზოგჯერ მომცემო პატიჟთა, ზოგჯერ კეთილთა მზათაო, უცნაურო და უთქმელო, უფალო უფლებათაო, მომეც დათმობა სურვილთა, მფლობელო გულის-თქმათაო! ღმერთო, ღმერთო, გეაჯები, რომელი ჰფლობ ქვენათ ზესა, შენ დაჰბადე მიჯნურობა, შენ აწესებ მისსა წესსა, მე სოფელმან მომაშორვა უკეთესსა ჩემსა მზესა, ნუ ამოჰფხვრი სიყვარულსა, მისგან ჩემთვის დანათესსა! ღმერთო, ღმერთო მოწყალეო, არვინ მივის შენგან კიდე, შენგან ვითხოვ შეწევნასა, რაზომსაცა გზასა ვვლიდე: მტერთა ძლევა, ზღვათა ღელვა, ღამით მავნე გამარიდე! თუღა დავრჩე, გმსახურებდე, შენდა მსხვერპლსა შევსწირვიდე" . რა ილოცა, ცხენსა შეჯდა, მალვით კარნი გაიარნა, შერმადინცა დააბრუნვა, თუცა ვამნი ადიადნა; მონა ტირს და მკერდსა იცემს, საბრალომან ცრემლნი ღვარნა; პატრონისა ვერა-მჭვრეტმან ყმამან რადმცა გაიხარნა! ↗
To prove to [her friend, Swedish diplomat Count] Gyllenborg that she was not superficial, Catherine composed an essay about herself, "so that he would see whether I knew myself or not." The next day, she wrote and handed to Gyllenborg an essay titled 'Portrait of a Fifteen-Year-Old Philosopher.' He was impressed and returned it with a dozen pages of comments, mostly favorable. "I read his remarks again and again, many times [Catherine later recalled in her memoirs]. I impressed them on my consciousness and resolved to follow his advice. In addition, there was something else surprising: one day, while conversing with me, he allowed the following sentence to slip out: 'What a pity that you will marry! I wanted to find out what he meant, but he would not tell me. ↗
#coming-of-age #independence #intelligence #marriage #matrimony
Not long ago, having expressed some disagreements in print with an old comrade of long standing, I was sent a response that he had published in an obscure newspaper. This riposte referred to my opinions as ‘racist.’ I would obviously scorn to deny such an allegation on my own behalf. I would, rather, prefer to repudiate it on behalf of my former friend. He had known me for many years and cooperated with me on numerous projects, and I am quite confident that he would never have as a collaborator anyone he suspected of racial prejudice. But it does remind me, and not for the first time, that quarrels on the left have a tendency to become miniature treason trials, replete with all kinds of denunciation. There's a general tendency—not by any means confined to radicals but in some way specially associated with them—to believe that once the lowest motive for a dissenting position has been found, it must in some way be the real one. ↗
#edward-said #friendship #leftism #political-radicalism #race-card
I better go," Carter squeezed me once more and stood, grabbing his wallet from the coffee table. "I need to hit up the lottery if I want to get you out of this mess. Will you let me buy a monkey if we win, though?" "Only if you buy me an island off the coast of Fiji." "You crazy-ass woman. A monkey is so much cooler than an island." "How about a monkey IN Fiji?" "Now there's a woman after my own heart," Carter slapped his hand to his chest, sighing dramatically. "I'll let you know if we win." He started for the door. "Uh huh." "You'll know if we do. I'll be the one streaking on Pike Street. ↗
#contemporary-romance #friendship #kate #preservation #rachael-wade
I have lost years that I will never get back. Only now am I just beginning to live, on the verge of old age. It is painful and unfair. But today I have a different attitude to life: it can't be constructed from superficial things, no matter how attractive they may appear. Neither wealth not appearances have any importance now. Pain gave me new life. It took a long time for me to die as Malika, General Oufkir's eldest daughter, the child of a powerful figure, of a past. I've gained an identity. My own identity. And that is priceless. If there had not been all that waste, all that horror...I'd almost venture to say that my suffering made me grow. In any case, it changed me. for the better. It's as well to make the best of things. ↗
#age
She studied me with concern. She touched the new streak of gray in my hair that matched hers exactly—our painful souvenir from holding Atlas's burden. There was a lot I'd wanted to say to Annabeth, but Athena had taken the confidence out of me. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. I do not approve of your friendship with my daughter. "So," Annabeth said. "What did you want to tell me earlier?" The music was playing. People were dancing in the streets. I said, "I, uh, was thinking we got interrupted at Westover Hall. And… I think I owe you a dance." She smiled slowly. "All right, Seaweed Brain." So I took her hand, and I don't know what everybody else heard, but to me it sounded like a slow dance: a little sad, but maybe a little hopeful, too. ↗
You're getting into some kind of shape, cop." Aw, come on, now." Butch grinned. "Don't let that shower we took go to your head." Rhage fired a towel at the male. "Just pointing out your beer gut's gone." It was a Scotch pot. And I don't miss it. ↗
