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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #ship
… Looking at her, I think I know better what romantic love is.” … she asked, “What is it?” “It is parental love,” he answered thoughtfully. “Wanting to protect and keep the other person safe. As well as the love of friendship - esteeming the other person, even desiring each other’s company beyond all others. And it is lust,” he said, meeting her eyes, and was rewarded with seeing them darken, her breath becoming slightly unsteady, one little word jerking her out of her clinical assessment. He smiled, a predatory, seductive grin. “The physical needing of the other person, the quickened pulse, the sweaty heat.” His hand, which still rested on hers, began slowly moving, his fingers dancing over her skin. “Combining them makes the result greater than its individual parts. Because it produces something else. It creates … a steadiness. A strength. I can’t explain it well - being only an outside observer - but I only know that out of my friends' relationships, my sister‘s marriage is the epitome of grace. ↗
The trouble with anyone when they're unhappy or in a relationship they recognize is not working but don't know what to do about is that they can't see farther out than that. If the relationship is not working, if what was there isn't there anymore, you have to do something about it. ↗
Westcliff thinks that St. Vincent is in love with you.” Evie choked a little and didn’t dare look up from her tea. “Wh-why does he think that?” “He’s known St. Vincent from childhood, and can read him fairly well. And Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent’s heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to…hmm, how did he put it?…I can’t remember the exact words, but it was something like… you would appeal to St. Vincent’s deepest, most secret fantasy.” Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. “I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible.” A grin crossed Lillian’s lips. “Dear, that is not St. Vincent’s fantasy, it’s his reality. And you’re probably the first sweet, decent girl he’s ever had anything to do with. ↗
എല്ലാം വീണ്ടും ആരംഭിക്കുവാന്നമ്മുക്കൊരു ഊഴം കിട്ടുന്നുവെന്ന താണ് പുതുവത്സരങ്ങളില െ സുവിശേഷം.അകന്നുപോയ ബന്ധങ്ങളെ വിളക്കി യോചിപ്പിക്കുവാന ് , മറന്നുപോയപ്രാര്ത്ഥനകളെ ഓര്ത്തെടുക്കുവ ാന് , കളഞ്ഞു പോയ സൗഹൃദങ്ങളെ വീണ്ടെടുക്കുവാന ുമൊക്കെ മറ്റൊരു ഊഴംകൂടി- "തകര്ന്ന ഹൃദയങ്ങളൊഴികെ എല്ലാം ഒട്ടിക്കുന്നു "എന്നൊരു പരസ്യമുണ്ട് . സ്നേഹത്തിന്റെ ലേപനം പുരട്ടിയാല് മതി അതും സൗഖ്യപ്പെടും ↗
#heart #love #malayalam #newyear #friendship
The Friend of Your Youth is the only friend you will ever have, for he does not really see you. He sees in his mind a face that does not exist anymore, speaks a name – Spike, Bud, Snip, Red, Rusty, Jack, Dave – which belongs to that now nonexistent face but which by some inane doddering confusion of the universe is for the moment attached to a not happily met and boring stranger. But he humors the drooling doddering confusion of the universe and continues to address politely that dull stranger by the name which properly belongs to the boy face and to the time when the boy voice called thinly across the late afternoon water or murmured by a campfire at night or in the middle of a crowded street said, “Gee, listen to this–’On Wenlock Edge the wood’s in trouble; His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves–’” The Friend of Your Youth is your friend because he does not see you anymore. And perhaps he never saw you. What he saw was simply part of the furniture of the wonderful opening world. Friendship was something he suddenly discovered and had to give away as a recognition of and payment for the breathlessly opening world which momently divulged itself like a moonflower. It didn’t matter a damn to whom he gave it, for the fact of giving was what mattered, and if you happened to be handy you were automatically endowed with all the appropriate attributes of a friend and forever after your reality is irrelevant. The Friend of Your Youth is the only friend you will ever have, for he hasn’t the slightest concern with calculating his interest or your virtue. He doesn’t give a damn, for the moment, about Getting Ahead or Needs Must Admiring the Best, the two official criteria in adult friendships, and when the boring stranger appears, he puts out his hand and smiles (not really seeing your face) and speaks your name (which doesn’t really belong to your face), saying, “Well, Jack, damned glad you came, come on in, boy! ↗
The calling that has been thrust upon you is likewise as demanding and daunting. I understand how you feel, believe me. But we need you, Eena. I would say I’m sorry, but…….honestly I’d have no other woman take your place. You are exactly what we need. And, yes, it does call for a great deal of sacrifice, but you don’t have to bear these burdens alone. We are all here to help you. And believe me there isn’t one of us who wouldn’t give our last breath to defend yours so that you might go on to heal Harrowbeth. Don’t block us out anymore. Don’t think that you have to stand alone. Please wake up and know that I understand. And I promise I won’t say, ‘I told you so’.” The room fell quiet. Eena didn’t stir. Derian could see how her breathing continued smoothly in and out just as before. “I promise I’ll give you some chocolate if you wake up.” It was a last-ditch effort. “I’ve got plenty of it, and I don’t care for the stuff. ↗
#eena #friendship #richelle #richelle-goodrich #understanding
I have only known you about five months. But you know every piece of my life, all the ugly details. Now I'm asking you to trust me with yours—not because I want to know your stuff, but because I want to know you. What made you this amazing woman that you are, this woman that I've grown to admire and love. I want to know her story. ↗
Love, he realized, was like the daggers he made in his forge: When you first got one it was shiny and new and the blade glinted bright in the light. Holding it against your palm, you were full of optimism for what it would be like in the field, and you couldn't wait to try it out. Except those first couple of nights out were usually awkward as you got used to it and it got used to you. Over time, the steel lost its brand-new gleam, and the hilt became stained, and maybe you nicked the shit out of the thing a couple of times. What you got in return, however, saved your life: Once the pair of you were well acquainted, it became such a part of you that it was an extension of your own arm. It protected you and gave you a means to protect your brothers; it provided you with the confidnece and the power to face whatever came out of the night; and wherever you went, it stayed with you, right over your heart, always there when you needed it. You had to keep the blade up, however. And rewrap the hilt from time to time. And double-check the weight. Funny...all of that was well, duh when it came to weapons. Why hadn't it dawned on him that matings were the same? (From the thoughts of Vishous) ↗
Karrin." She looked up at me. She looked very young somehow. "Remember what I said yesterday," I said. "You're hurt. But you'll get through it. You'll be okay." She closed her eyes tightly. "I'm scared. So scared I'm sick." "You'll get through it." "What if I don't?" I squeezed her fingers. "Then I will personally make fun of you every day for the rest of your life," I said. "I will call you a sissy girl in front of everyone you know, tie frilly aprons on your car, and lurk in the parking lot at CPD and whistle and tell you to shake it, baby. Every. Single. Day." Murphy's breath escaped in something like a hiccup. She opened her eyes, a mix of anger and wary amusement easing into them in place of fear. "You do realize I'm holding a gun, right? ↗
