Im Smiling But Im Sad Quotes

#1. Do you know what Aunt Marmoset told me once? She compared you to a spice drop. Overpowering and hard at first, but all sweetness at the center. I'll admit, I've been desperate to try an experiment." She gave him a teasing look. "How many times do you suppose I could lick you before you crack?"
His every muscle tightened.
Smiling, she tucked her face into the curve of his neck and ran her tongue seductively over his skin. "There's one."
"Katie." The word was a low, throaty warning. It made her toes curl.
She nuzzled at the notch of his open shirt, pushing the fabric aside. The familiar musk of his skin stirred her in deep places.
With a teasing swirl of her tongue, she tasted the notch at the base of his throat. "Two ... "
"Finn," he called in a booming voice, lifting his head. "Send for the vicar."
She pulled back, shocked. "Two? That's all, truly? Two? I'm not sure whether to feel proud or disappointed. #Quote by Tessa Dare

#2. He must have been someone I trusted at one time."
"But you don't now?"
"I can't. Not until I remember how I ended up so badly wounded where you found me. You've seen how strong I am, Susan. How fast I can move. Do you really think an enemy could have gotten the jump on me without a little assistance?"
She hadn't thought of it like that. It was a valid point. "No. I'm still hoping he's a friend though. You need someone you can trust."
Smiling, he touched her cheek. "I already have someone I trust. You."
She clasped his wrists and turned her head, pressing a kiss to his palm. "Flirt."
He winked. "Just wait until I confirm I'm not married. Then I'll take flirting to a whole new level."
"Hell yes, you will," she declared.
He laughed. #Quote by Dianne Duvall

#3. But I need you to know that I'm all in with you. I'm giving you all of myself. I know I can be a real asshole, and I guarantee you that I'm going to fuck things up along the way. Possibly
in the next five minutes…" he says, smiling as his fingers brush against her cheek. "And I know I'll probably drive you up the fucking wall with
how protective I get over this baby and just mess all kinds of shit up so I wanna apologize in advance. #Quote by Madeleine Beckett

#4. It mattered very much to this young person. I was inclined to tell him that if he was worried, it probably was a sin, or at the very least, would weigh on him as one. For God also tells us that when you perform an action you believe to be a sin, it still counts as a sin even if it is proven to be permissible. Conscience. Conscience is the ultimate measure of man."
"All right, it's a sin," moaned Alif. "I don't care. I don't play Battlecraft. It's for teenagers."
"I'm not looking for any particular answer. Don't feel you must agree. I want to know what you think."
"I'm not looking for any particular answer. Don't feel you must agree. I want to know what you think."
"I think people need a break. It's not like they're out there selling bacon and booze. They want to pretend for a few hours a day that we don't live in this awful hole getting squeezed by State on one side and pious airheads on the other, all while smiling our shit-eating grins so that the oil companies keep shoveling money into our pockets. Surely God wouldn't mind people pretending life is better, even if it involves fictional pork."
"But isn't that a dangerous precedent? Fictional pork is one thing-one cannot smell it or taste it, and thus the temptation to go out and consume real pork is low. However, if we were to talk about fictional adultery-I know there are many people who do and say all kinds of dirty things online-then it would be another matter. Those are real desires manifesting #Quote by G. Willow Wilson

#5. Instinctively I started to panic when Dr. Martinez strapped my arm down, and
then the panic just melted away, la la la.
Someone took my other hand. Fang. I felt his calluses, his bones, his
strength.
"I'm so glad you're here," I slurred, smiling dopily up at him. I took in
his startled, worried expression but dismissed it. "I know everything's fine
if you're here."
I thought I saw his cheeks flush, but I wasn't too sure of anything anymore. #Quote by James Patterson

#6. WAIT, WAIT! JUST one more!"
"Bliss, there are children waiting."
And they probably hated us, but I was just so glad to see her smiling that I didn't care.
"Yeah, well, they all just jumped on the bandwagon. Most of them weren't alive when I read Harry Potter for the first time."
I turned to the Canadian family behind me and said, "I'm so sorry. This is the last one, I promise." Then I took one more picture of Bliss pretending to push the luggage cart through the wall at the Platform 9¾ monument at King's Cross Station.
A little boy stuck his tongue out at Bliss as we left. I pulled her away before she could follow suit.
"That kid better watch it. I'm totally a Slytherin."
I shook my head, smiling.
"Love, I'm going to need you to pull back on the crazy a bit."
"You're right. Realistically, I'm a Ravenclaw. #Quote by Cora Carmack

#7. Encouraged by her parents' applause, the girl went on: "Do you think we take off our tops to give you pleasure? We do it for ourselves, because we like it, because it feels better, because it brings our bodies nearer to the sun! You're only capable of seeing us as sex objects!"

Again Papa and Mama Clevis applauded, but this time their bravos had a somewhat different tone. Their daughter's words were indeed right, but also somewhat inappropriate for a fourteen-year-old. It was like an eight-year-old boy saying: "If there's a holdup, Mama, I'll defend you." Then too the parents applaud, because their son's statement is clearly praiseworthy. But since it also shows excessive self-assurance, the praise is rightly shaded by a certain smile. With such a smile the Clevis parents had tinged their second bravos, and their daughter, who had heard that smile in their voices and did not approve of it, repeated with irritated obstinacy: "That's over and done with. I'm not anybody's sex object."

Without smiling, the parents merely nodded, not wanting to incite their daughter any further.

Jan, however, could not resist saying:

"My dear girl, if you only knew how easy it is not to be a sex object."

He uttered these words softly, but with such sincere sorrow that they resounded in the room for a long while. They were words difficult to pass over in silence, but it was not possible to respond to them either. They did not deserve approval, #Quote by Milan Kundera

#8. I want you. And I am not a needy man, but even I will admit that I need you. My life is so much better with you in it. It took a while for me to see why and I'm sorry about that. Sometimes it's hard to see what you have when, in your mind, the possibility of losing it is never a thought." He pauses, smiling. "Your crazy makes my crazy make sense. #Quote by Lindy Zart

#9. I'm Tekchin," he said, exchanging an empty gourd for a full one. "The handsomest and most skilled of the Galantians."
This brought an immediate and loud moan from the other Fhrey.
"That scar suggests otherwise," Moya replied. "On both counts."
More laughter, louder this time.
"Pretty and smart," Tekchin said to the others in Fhrey.
Persephone was thankful Moya couldn't understand their language. A comment like that would have been tantamount to putting torch to tinder.
"This?" Tekchin returned to Rhunic and touched his cheek. "Naw, this is a beauty mark given to me by a special friend. He's dead now, of course, but he was a gifted opponent and aiming for my throat. I can assure you it proves my skill. So what's your name, or shall I call you Doe-Eyes?"
"Doe-Eyes? Seriously?" Moya rolled her same-said eyes in disbelief. "I would have expected something less sappy from a god. My name is Moya. Call me anything else and you'll receive a second beauty mark."
Tekchin struggled but failed to resist smiling. Behind him, the rest of the Fhrey laughed once more.
"God, eh?" Tekchin said.
"Don't get too excited. Apparently it's only a rumor."
"I like you, Moya."
"Most people do," she replied. #Quote by Michael J. Sullivan

#10. I'm a jealous bitch, Dallas. Do you understand that? I'm not saying you can't talk to women or other parents on the team or anything, but if you cheated on me - why are you smiling?"

"If I cheated on you, you and Josh would kill me and bury the body somewhere no one would ever find. #Quote by Mariana Zapata

#11. Is Belhaven the other man?" he asked gently.
The color drained from Elizabeth's face, and it was answer enough.
"Damnation!" expostulated the earl, grimacing in revulsion. "The very thought of an innocent like yourself being offered to that old-"
"I've dissuaded him," Elizabeth hastily assured him, but she was profoundly touched that the earl, who knew her so slightly, was angered on her behalf.
"You're certain?"
"I think so."
After a moment's hesitation he nodded and leaned back in his chair, his disturbingly astute gaze on her face while a slow smile drifted across his own. "May I ask how you accomplished it?"
"I'd truly rather you wouldn't."
Again he nodded, but his smile widened and his blue eyes lit with amusement. "Would I be far off the mark if I were to assume you used the same tactics on Marchman that I think you've used here?"
"I'm-I'm not certain I understand your question," Elizabeth replied warily, but his grin was contagious, and she found herself having to bite her lip to stop from smiling back at him.
"Well, either the interest you exhibited in fishing two years ago was real, or it was your courteous way of putting me at ease and letting me talk about the things that interested me. If the former is true, then I can only assume your terror of fish yesterday isn't quite…shall we say…as profound as you would have had me believe?"
They looked at each other, he with a knowing smile, Elizabeth with brimming laug #Quote by Judith McNaught

#12. You just couldn't wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?" Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in place.
"No, I - I was checking for wounds," I stumbled. I wouldn't meet his gaze.
"I'm sure." He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. "What's that?" He tried to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald-encrusted oval on my finger. "Is that a wedding ring?"
"No, engagement." I lowered my hand, resting it on the bed next to him. "I'm not married yet."
"I'm not too late, then." He smiled and settled back in the bed.
"Too late for what?" I asked.
"To stop you, of course." Still smiling, he closed his eyes. #Quote by Amanda Hocking

#13. Stick around, though. I'm going to need all the help I can get to figure all this out."
"That's me! Mister Helpful. Captain Dependable."
"That sounds like a brand of adult diapers."
"This nickname needs some work. Lord Wonderful? The Incredible Hunk?"
"Please, for the love, go inside."
He laughed, then clomped up the steps and into the house.
"Reth," I shouted. "Reeeeeeeeth! Reth! Reth, Reth, Reth! If you don't come in the next thirty seconds, I'm going to do find David's golf clubs!"
"That tone and level of voice does nothing attractive you for, my love."
I jumped, startled, but of course Reth would be behind me, leaning heavily on the porch railing.
"You," I said, glaring. "Fix it. Now."
A look of disdain on his face, he leaned over and trailed his fingers across Lend's forehead. A single whispered word, and then . . .
Nothing.
"You liar!" I shouted, standing so abruptly that Lend rolled off my lap and down a step. As he hit the first one, color bloomed through him into his usual glamour and his eyes flew open in panic.
"He was asleep, Evelyn." Reth's lips were pursed, but I knew he was smiling gleefully on the inside.
"Lend!" I lunged forward, knocking into him, and we both rolled down the next two steps, landing in a heap on the gravel at the bottom. "You're awake!"
"Evie! I'm . . . wow, why am I so bruised?"
"Shut up," I said, grabbing his head and pulling him in for a kiss. It was freezing a #Quote by Kiersten White

#14. Go to hell, March." But I'm still smiling while I say it. As I doze off again, I'm pretty sure he says,
"Been there, done that, and I'm keeping a spot warm for you, babe. #Quote by Ann Aguirre

#15. Sick of crying, tired of trying, yes I'm smiling, but inside I'm dying #Quote by Unknown

#16. I'm a very positive person, but this whole concept of having to always be nice, always smiling, always happy, that's not real. It was like I was wearing a mask. I was becoming this perfectly chiselled sculpture, and that was bad. That took a long time to understand. #Quote by Alicia Keys

#17. If you don't want to-I mean, genuinely are not attracted to me, do not think of me that way, cannot stomach the thought of touching me-then I would understand and I would never press the issue again. But that's not how you feel.'
'How do you know?' I snap.
'Because I'm very pretty.'
I whip my head around to glare at him; he's smiling like he couldn't be more amused. 'You aren't that pretty.'
'I am to you ... '
'You are unbelievable.'
'I am, aren't I?'
'Unbelievable arrogant.'
'Not arrogant. Confident. There's a difference.'
'Which you clearly do not understand. #Quote by Kiersten White

#18. Della & I are drunk at the top of Mont-Royal. We have an open blue plastic thermos of red wine at our feet. It's the first day of spring & it's midnight & we've been peeling off layers of winter all day. We stand facing each other, as if to exchange vows, chests heaving from racing up & down the mountain to the sky. My face is hurting from smiling so much, aching at the edges of my words. She reaches out to hold my face in her hands, dirty palms form a bowl to rest my chin. I'm standing on a tree stump so we're eye to eye. It's hard to stay steady. I worry I may start to drool or laugh, I feel so unhinged from my body. It's been one of those days I don't want to end. Our goal was to shirk all responsibility merely to enjoy the lack of everyday obligations, to create fullness & purpose out of each other. Our knees are the colour of the ground-in grass. Our boots are caked in mud caskets. Under our nails is a mixture of minerals & organic matter, knuckles scraped by tree bark. We are the thaw embodied.

She says, You have changed me, Eve, you are the single most important person in my life. If you were to leave me, I would die.

At that moment, our breath circling from my lungs & into hers, I am changed. Perhaps before this I could describe our relationship as an experiment, a happy accident, but this was irrefutable. I was completely consumed & consuming. It was as though we created some sort of object between us that we coul #Quote by Zoe Whittall

#19. I think I'm under control, that I've stripped away all weaknesses. That committing to my mission has made me impervious. I'm wrong. The thought of Barrons smiling brings other thoughts.
Barrons naked.
Dancing.
Dark head thrown back.
Laughing.
The image doesn't "gently swim up in my mind" in a dreamy sort of way, like I've seen in movies. No, this one slams into my head like a nuclear missile, exploding in my brain in graphic detail. I suffocate in a mushroom cloud of pain.
I can't breathe. I squeeze my eyes shut.
White teeth flashing in his dark face: I get knocked down but I get up again. You're never gonna keep me down.
I stagger.
But he didn't get up, the bastard. He stayed down. #Quote by Karen Marie Moning

#20. When I'm under stress," he emphasized, sliding the magnificent emerald onto her finger, "I buy everything in sight. It took my last ounce of control not to buy one of those in every color."
Her eyes lifted from his smiling lips, dropped to the enormous jewel on her finger, and then widened in shock. "Oh, but-" she exclaimed, staring at it and straightening in his arms. "It's glorious. I do mean that, but I couldn't let you-really, I couldn't. Ian," she burst out anxiously, sending a tremor through him when she called him by name, "I can't let you do this. You've been extravagantly generous already." She touched the huge stone almost reverently, then gave her head a practical shake. "I don't need jewels, really I don't. You're doing this because of that stupid remark I made about someone offering me jewels as large as my palm, and now you've bought one nearly that large!"
"Not quite," he chuckled.
"Why, a stone like this would pay for irrigating Havenhurst and all the servants' wages for years and years and years, and food to-"
She reached to slide it off her finger. "Don't!" he warned on a choked laugh, linking his hands behind her back. "I-" he thought madly for some way to stop her objections-"I cannot possibly return it," he said. "It's part of a matched set."
"You don't mean there's more!"
"I'm afraid so, though I meant to surprise you with them tonight. There's a necklace and bracelet and earrings."
"Oh, I see," she said, making a visib #Quote by Judith McNaught

#21. Did you just tell us you're gay?" Asks Nick
"Yes."
"Okay," he says. Abby swats him. "What?"
"That's all you're going to say? Okay?"
"He said not to make a big deal out of it," Nick says. "What am I supposed to say?"
"Say something supportive. I don't know. Or awkwardly hold his hand like I did. Anything"
Nick and I look at each other.
"I'm not holding your hand," I tell him, smiling a little.
"All right"--he nods--"but know that I would. #Quote by Becky Albertalli

#22. Why don't you use some sense and try to be more like me? You might live to be a hundred and seven, too."
"Because it's better to die on one's feet than live on one's knees," Nately retorted with triumphant and lofty conviction. "I guess you've heard that saying before."
"Yes, I certainly have," mused the treacherous old man, smiling again. "But I'm afraid you have it backward. It is better to live on one's feet than die on one's knees. That is the way the saying goes."
"Are you sure?" Nately asked with sober confusion. "It seems to make more sense my way."
"No, it makes more sense my way. Ask your friends. #Quote by Joseph Heller

#23. Damn it, Jacob, I'm freezing my butt off."
"I came as fast as I could, considering I thought it would be wise to walk the last few yards."
Isabella whirled around, her smiling face lighting up the silvery night with more ease than the fullest of moons. She leapt up into his embrace, eagerly drinking in his body heat and affection.
"I can see it now. 'Daddy, tell me about your wedding day.' 'Well, son,'" she mocked, deepening her voice to his timbre and reflecting his accent uncannily, "'The first words out of your mother's mouth were I'm freezing my butt off!'"
"Very romantic, don't you think?" he teased. "So, you think it will be a boy, then? Our first child?"
"Well, I'm fifty percent sure."
"Wise odds. Come, little flower, I intend to marry you before the hour is up." With that, he scooped her off her feet and carried her high against his chest. "Unfortunately, we are going to have to do this hike the hard way."
"As Legna tells it, that's what you're supposed to do."
"Yeah, well, I assure you a great many grooms have fudged that a little." He reached to tuck her chilled face into the warm crook of his neck.
"Surely the guests would know. It takes longer to walk than it does to fly . . . or whatever . . . out of the woods."
"This is true, little flower. But passing time in the solitude of the woods is not necessarily a difficult task for a man and woman about to be married."
"Jacob!" she gasped, laughing.
"Some trad #Quote by Jacquelyn Frank

#24. Is something wrong?" he asked.

"You seem to have forgotten that someone cut my bike in half."

"And you seem to have forgotten that I have a truck," said Miles. "I can give you a ride. To school, at least."

"No thanks," I said.

"Really. I'm not joking. Unless you're that against having anything to do with me. I don't care. You can get in line."

He turned onto the main road. The line from the notebook felt like a dead weight in my stomach.

"No, not against it." I realized with a strange sort of happy dread that we were falling back into the easy conversation we'd had at the bonfire. "But I'd like to know why you're offering."

"What do you mean?" Honest confusion crossed his face. "Isn't that the good thing to do?"

I burst out laughing. "Since when have you been good? Are you feeling guilty or something?"

"A little sentimental, maybe. My first idea was to drive up and down in front of you a few times to prove I had a car and you didn't." His tone was light and he was smiling.

Holy crap, he was smiling. A real, teeth-showing, nose-scrunching, eyes-crinkling smile.

The smile slipped off his face. "What? What's wrong?"

"You were smiling," I said. "It was kind of weird."

"Oh," he said, frowning. "Thanks."

"No, no, don't do that! The smile was better." The words felt wrong coming out of my mouth. I shouldn't say things like that to #Quote by Francesca Zappia

#25. Whisper in the yard and turn the trees all into toys
Lay there on the ground, and turn the dirt into your joy
From what I see and what I know, it's all been boring lately
So I suggest we trade a question mark in for a maybe
Time your riddles right, and make a point that has no sense
Make sure that you're smiling, and the money's been well spent
Innocence and ignorance, it all goes hand in hand
I'm not sure that I'm right, but I hope you'll understand
I hope that you're still searching for the start that has no end
And all the plastic people have now become your friends
Before you start to drift and your soul begins to scream
I just wanted to tell you that you're listening to a dream #Quote by Shinedown

#26. Joy in the Woods


There is joy in the woods just now,
The leaves are whispers of song,
And the birds make mirth on the bough
And music the whole day long,
And God! to dwell in the town
In these springlike summer days,
On my brow an unfading frown
And hate in my heart always -

A machine out of gear, aye, tired,
Yet forced to go on - for I'm hired.

Just forced to go on through fear,
For every day I must eat
And find ugly clothes to wear,
And bad shoes to hurt my feet
And a shelter for work-drugged sleep!
A mere drudge! but what can one do?
A man that's a man cannot weep!
Suicide? A quitter? Oh, no!

But a slave should never grow tired,
Whom the masters have kindly hired.

But oh! for the woods, the flowers
Of natural, sweet perfume,
The heartening, summer showers
And the smiling shrubs in bloom,
Dust-free, dew-tinted at morn,
The fresh and life-giving air,
The billowing waves of corn
And the birds' notes rich and clear: -

For a man-machine toil-tired
May crave beauty too - though he's hired. #Quote by Claude McKay

#27. I've been told a time or two that I spiral.
Zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.
One second, I'm perfectly fine, laughing, smiling. The next, I've got my hands around someone's throat, choking the life out of them.
There's probably a name for whatever's wrong with me, but I've got no interest in a diagnosis. I don't need treatment. Until people stop being ignorant, I'm going to keep on getting pissed. No little mood-stabilizing pill can stop that from happening.
But still, sometimes, I can feel it. I feel myself spiraling hard, and falling far, making mountains out of molehills that even I struggle to climb.
And today? I'm feeling it.
My hands shake.
I can hardly see straight. #Quote by J.M. Darhower

#28. We look at each other without saying anything, both of us smiling like idiots. I heart is so full I can't believe it can possibly still beat without bursting right in front of me. My desire for him is so fierce I'm afraid to stand, because I know my knees will be too weak to hold me up, but there's more than that. This great and bursting thing inside me is love. #Quote by Megan Hart

#29. But Noah, you're not supposed to do this, and I can't let you. So go back to your room." Then smiling softly and sniffling and shuffling some papers on the desk, she says: "Me, I'm going downstairs for some coffee. I won't be back to check on your for a while, so don't do anything foolish."
She rises quickly, touches my arm, and walks toward the stairs. She doesn't look back, and suddenly I am alone. I don't know what to think. I look at where she had been sitting and see her coffee, a full cup, still steaming, and once again I learn that there are good people in the world. #Quote by Nicholas Sparks

#30. I'm pleased-very pleased-that you've finally made your choice. It's about time you came to your senses."
He arched a brow. "Even if it took a kidnapping to do it?"
She nodded sagely. "Even so." She paused, then more gently asked, "She's the right one for you, isn't she?"
He held her gaze, then nodded. "Yes. Definitely." He hesitated, then added, "I couldn't live without her."
Caro's smile widened until she was beaming. "Wonderful. That's how it should be."
He wasn't so sure he needed to hear that; the sense of vulnerability and dependency took some getting used to; he wasn't yet sure he'd mastered the knack. "Sadly, it seems that whenever I get close to a prospective wedding, I end up wounded. With you and Michael, I got shot and nearly died. This time, with me and Heather, I got gored and nearly died. I suppose I should be happy that Constance and Cordelia are already married."
Caro laughed. "You probably escaped them because they're so much older that you-you were only a lad when they wed." She paused, head tilting as she studied him. Still smiling, she went on, "You're a protector, you know. That's what you are-that's what you do. And now you've found the lady you're supposed to protect for the rest of your life." Her smile deepened. "Once you marry her, you'll be safe."
He humphed, but continued to smile, and didn't attempt to argue.
Because she was right.
Heather was the lady he would protect for the rest of his life. #Quote by Stephanie Laurens

#31. I fear others will discover that I am not only imperfect; I'm not even okay. I fear that I truly am not okay. But most people who meet me never know that I am struggling. On the outside I am smiling. I am juggling all the balls of okayness: physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, existential. Underneath, I am suffocating. #Quote by Melissa Broder

#32. Listen," he says, pulling a curled fist out of his pocket. He takes one of Alex's hands and turns it to press something small and heavy into his palm. "I want you to know, I'm sure. A thousand percent."

He removes his hand and there, sitting in the center of Alex's callused palm, is the signet ring.

"What?" Alex's eyes flash up to search Henry's face and find him smiling softly. "I can't - "

"Keep it," Henry tells him. "I'm sick of wearing it."

It's a private airstrip, but it's still risky, so he folds Henry in a hug and whispers fiercely, "I completely fucking love you."

At cruising altitude, he takes the chain off his neck and slides the ring on next to the old house key. They clink together gently as he tucks them both under his shirt, two homes side by side. #Quote by Casey McQuiston

#33. Yet there is dynamism in our house. Day to day, week to week, Cady blossoms: a first grasp, a first smile, a first laugh. Her pediatrician regularly records her growth on charts, tick marks indicating her progress over time. A brightening newness surrounds her. As she sits in my lap smiling, enthralled by my tuneless singing, an incandescence lights the room. Time for me is now double-edged: every day brings me further from the low of my last relapse but closer to the next recurrence - and, eventually, death. Perhaps later than I think, but certainly sooner than I desire. There are, I imagine, two responses to that realization. The most obvious might be an impulse to frantic activity: to "live life to its fullest," to travel, to dine, to achieve a host of neglected ambitions. Part of the cruelty of cancer, though, is not only that it limits your time; it also limits your energy, vastly reducing the amount you can squeeze into a day. It is a tired hare who now races. And even if I had the energy, I prefer a more tortoiselike approach. I plod, I ponder. Some days, I simply persist. If time dilates when one moves at high speeds, does it contract when one moves barely at all? It must: the days have shortened considerably. With little to distinguish one day from the next, time has begun to feel static. In English, we use the word time in different ways: "The time is two forty-five" versus "I'm going through a tough time." These days, time feels less like the ticking clock and more #Quote by Paul Kalanithi

#34. When I come down the stairs, Peter is sitting on the couch with his mom. He is shaking his knee up and down, which is how I know he's nervous too. As soon as he sees me, he stands up.
He raises his eyebrows. "You look--wow." For the past week, he's been asking for details on what my dress looks like, and I held him at bay for the surprise, which I'm glad I did, because it was worth it to see the look on his face.
"You look wow too." His tux fits him so nicely, you'd think it was custom, but it's not; it's a rental from After Hours Formal Wear. I wonder if Mrs. Kavinsky made a few sly adjustments. She's a marvel with a needle and thread. I wish guys could wear tuxedos more often, though I suppose that would take some of the thrill away.
Peter slides my corsage on my wrist; it is white ranunculus and baby's breath, and it's the exact corsage I would have picked for myself. I'm already thinking of how I'll hang it over my bed so it dries just so.
Kitty is dressed up too; she has on her favorite dress, so she can be in the pictures. When Peter pins a daisy corsage on her, her face goes pink with pleasure, and he winks at me. We take a picture of me and her, one of me and Peter and her, and then she says in her bossy way, "Now just one of me and Peter," and I'm pushed off to the side with Trina, who laughs.
"The boys her age are in for it," she says to me and Peter's mom, who is smiling too.
"Why am I not in any of these pictures?" Daddy wonders, so o #Quote by Jenny Han

#35. I touched Loki's chest, running my fingers over the bumps of his scar. I didn't know why exactly, but I felt compelled to, as if the scar connected us somehow.
"You just couldn't wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?" Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in pace.
"No,I-I was checking for wounds," I stumbled. I wouldn't meet his gaze.
"I'm sure." He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. "What's that?" He tried to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald-encrusted oval on my finger. "Is that a wedding ring?"
"No, engagement." I lowered my hand, resting it on the bed next to him. "I'm not married yet."
"I'm not too late, then." He smiled and settled back in the bed.
"Too late for what?" I asked.
"To stop you, of course." Still smiling, he closed his eyes.
"Is that why you're here?" I asked, failing to point out how near we were to my nuptials.
"I told you why I'm here," Loki said.
"What happened to you, Loki?" I asked, my voice growing thick when I thought about what he had to have gone through to get all those marks and bruises.
"Are you crying?" Loki asked and opened his eyes.
"No, I'm not crying." I wasn't, but my eyes were moist.
"Don't cry." He tried to sit up, but he winced when he lifted his head, so I put my hand gently on his chest to keep him down.
"You need to rest," I said.
"I will #Quote by Amanda Hocking

#36. Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but ... well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with ... one thing and another." "Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?" "You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules - " "What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. ... Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?" The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move. "Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?" But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. #Quote by J.K. Rowling

#37. Who needs a dream? Who needs ambition? Who'd be the fool in my position? Once I had dreams, now they're obsessions. Hopes became needs, lovers possessions. Then they move in, oh so discretely. Slowly at first, smiling too sweetly. I opened doors, they walked right through them. Called me their friend, I hardly knew them ... Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Times have been good, fast, entertaining. But what's the point if I'm concealing not only love, all other feeling. #Quote by Tim Rice

#38. In a matter of sixty short minutes, that thing could whisk Neil away to civilization, I thought. Hmm.
My goodness, that was a beautiful prospect.
Somehow I had to get on that chopper with him.
I packed in thirty seconds flat, everything from the past three months. I taped a white cross onto my sleeve, and raced out to where Neil was sat waiting.
One chance.
What the heck.
Neil shook his head at me, smiling.
"God, you push it, Bear, don't you?" he shouted over the noise of the rotors.
"You're going to need a decent medic on the flight," I replied, with a smile. "And I'm your man." (There was at least some element of truth in this: I was a medic and I was his buddy--and yes, he did need help. But essentially I was trying to pull a bit of a fast one.)
The pilot shouted that two people would be too heavy.
"I have to accompany him at all times," I shouted back over the engine noise. "His feet might fall off at any moment," I added quietly.
The pilot looked back at me, then at the white cross on my sleeve.
He agreed to drop Neil somewhere down at a lower altitude, and then come back for me.
"Perfect. Go. I'll be here." I shook his hand firmly.
Let's just get this done before anyone thinks too much about it, I mumbled to myself.
And with that the pilot took off and disappeared from view.
Mick and Henry were laughing.
"If you pull this one off, Bear, I will eat my socks. You just love to push it, do #Quote by Bear Grylls

#39. I fell in love the moment I saw her in her grandfather's kitchen, her dark curls crashing over her Portuguese shoulders. 'Would you like to drink coffee?' she smiled.
'I'm really not that thirsty.'
'What? What you say?' Her English wasn't too good. Now I'm seventy-three and she's just turned seventy. 'Would you like to drink coffee?' she asked me today, smiling.
'I'm really not that thirsty.'
'What? What you say?' Neither of us has the gift of language acquisition. After fifty years of marriage we have never really spoken, but we love each other more than words can say. #Quote by Dan Rhodes

#40. We cleave our way through the mountains until the interstate dips into a wide basin brimming with blue sky, broken by dusty roads and rocky saddles strung out along the southern horizon. This is our first real glimpse of the famous big-sky country to come, and I couldn't care less. For all its grandeur, the landscape does not move me. And why should it? The sky may be big, it may be blue and limitless and full of promise, but it's also really far away. Really, it's just an illusion. I've been wasting my time. We've all been wasting our time. What good is all this grandeur if it's impermanent, what good all of this promise if it's only fleeting? Who wants to live in a world where suffering is the only thing that lasts, a place where every single thing that ever meant the world to you can be stripped away in an instant? And it will be stripped away, so don't fool yourself. If you're lucky, your life will erode slowly with the ruinous effects of time or recede like the glaciers that carved this land, and you will be left alone to sift through the detritus. If you are unlucky, your world will be snatched out from beneath you like a rug, and you'll be left with nowhere to stand and nothing to stand on. Either way, you're screwed. So why bother? Why grunt and sweat and weep your way through the myriad obstacles, why love, dream, care, when you're only inviting disaster? I'm done answering the call of whippoorwills, the call of smiling faces and fireplaces and cozy rooms. You won't #Quote by Jonathan Evison

#41. The guy was just sitting there," Tom added happily. "Am I right?" Gabe nodded, generous in his small smile. "That's right. John, chapter nine. Jesus and his disciples were having a discussion, it seems, about human suffering being a punishment for sin. The disciples pointed to the blind man begging. This man was born blind, they said, was it because his parents sinned? It was the belief in those days," he added, young scholar, "that blindness or deformity was a punishment for the parents' sins." "Grateful to be an orphan," Tom said suddenly, and looked at my mother and me, smiling. "Or maybe that means I'm in more trouble than most." "Well, we're all sinners," Gabe said. "But the point is, no one was asking Jesus to cure the man, they were just using him to illustrate their question. And yet, Our Lord, out of compassion alone, it seems to me, approaches the man, picks up some dirt - " He paused, ducking his head with a wry smile. "We all know the story." "Right," Tom cried. #Quote by Alice McDermott

#42. I noticed Incy smiling at me as I rounded up my third or fourth doll-size éclair. I mean, I get the whole precious-food thing. But give me a big honking éclair, know what I'm saying? #Quote by Cate Tiernan