Quotes About Meaning

Rhage raised his hand Pastor Ass-hat, I have a question. Yes my son, you are going to hell

Oh my God... Xhex's heart stopped as she looked at him in the mirror. Across his upper back, in a glorious spread of black ink...in a declaration that didn't whisper but shouted...in a billboard-size front with flourishes... Her name in the Old Language.

With that, he pushed his way out...and as the door eased shut, she realized I love you could indeed be said without actually uttering the phrase. Actions did mean more than words.

Then again, the urge to commit matricide was stressful as shit-when you couldn't act on it.

Man, life was complicated. But the truth was simple. He was her home. He was where she belonged.

Too bad the freedom seemed like a prison. As his boots hit the mosaic floor at the bottom of the stairs, John Mellencamp's old-school, bic-lighter anthem echoed in his head-and though he'd always like the song okay, he'd never truly understood what it meant. Kind of wished that were still the case. Life goes on...long after the thrill of living is gone...

The quick and the dead are all the same. Everyone's just looking for home.

John? As it was dark he whistled a what. You are such a male of worth, you know that. You really are.

You're so beautiful." "I'm still covered," she moaned. "But it doesn't matter what you look like." He lifted his head and stared at her. "The details of size and shape don't matter to me. The fact that it is you…that is what makes it beautiful to me.

Why ever are you here?" she whispered, putting her hands to his face. "Because I love you." In so many ways, that explained nothing … and told her everything she needed to know.

And suddenly it wasn't a joke. The further she went, the more serious Lassiter got, and the shakier Wrath's shellan became, as if the words she were speaking were ones of great value and meaning. This was tradition for her, he realized.

Sometimes gratitude could be mistaken for love. Both were warm feelings that endured. But the former was about friendship…the latter was something else entirely.

Without time, you have only the bottomless, shapeless mire of eternity....Time is what gives life significance.

And the truth was, the details didn't matter. Just like shared blood didn't matter. Family was so much more than DNA.

After all, how could you exercise choice if you didn't have a clue who you were? Labels weren't going to do it, titles like "mahmen" or "shellan" weren't really going to help you. You needed to dig into yourself and find out how to fill your hours with pursuits that were meaningful to you and for you, as a person, an individual. Too

Then again, when you were facing the right person? None of the things they talked about on television, no Vera Wang dress, no champagne waterfall, no DJ or place setting or party favor mattered. "'I

doing here, George." The supportive chuff he got in return was exactly the vote of

Right? That's exactly what I think. He's a tough number, aren't you, Rhamp? Also poops out toxic waste. You'll learn that later.

You are so beautiful," he said softly. "Only because you make me that way." "Oh, you're so wrong about that." -Rehv & Ehlena

Suicide had never been an option; you took your own life, you couldn't get into the Fade

Now go and stand at the precipice and stare out over the valley. You will not find your future in the view, though, however beautiful it is. It is the one beside you who is your horizon. But you already know that, don't you. - the Gray Wolf

Gracias por prepararme para esto... trhayner." Los ojos de V flamearon y Butch dijo: "Sí, he buscado lo que significa esa palabra. «Amigo del alma»; define muy bien lo que siento por ti.

Maybe what you found is being used for another reason?" Z stopped. "Oh, yeah. Right. Because those things are multifunctional. Like Q-tips or some shit. Look, would you talk to her?

But what was between them went further than a mating ceremony or a back carving or a witnessed exchange of commitment. He couldn't put his finger on the why of it . . . but she was his missing puzzle piece, the twelfth in his dozen, the first and the last pages of his book. And at some level that was all he needed.