Quotes About Reconciliation

I remember what it was to hate him with the whole of my heart but Iv'e remembered too late.

Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you must. Just come home

Come back when returning feels like a hard choice instead of an easy one

I rise, crossing the room to put one gloved hand against the pallid green skin of his face. He closes his cat eyes. I cannot forgive him, but I cannot hate him, either. We stand like that for a long moment, then he looks up, takes my unbandaged hand, and kisses the back of it, mouth against cloth.

Your ridiculous family might be surprised to find that not everything is solved by murder," Locke calls after me. "We would be surprised to find that," I call back.

I missed you," I whisper against his skin and feel dizzy with the intimacy of the admission, feel more naked than when he could see every inch of me. "In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you." "My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned.

That I had suffered a loss. I thought about the word suffer and about the act or the state of suffering. I thought about enduring. About bearing the burden, about tolerating the pain, about learning to reconcile myself to this new, stark reality.

It was always like that. They never said sorry. They just threw down their still-loaded weapons, ready for next time.

Each time she fell out of love with him, he saw it happen and waited it out. He never stopped loving her, even those times when he felt deeply hurt and betrayed by her, even in that bad year when they talked about separating, he'd just gone along with it, waiting for her to come back to him, thanking God and his dad up above each time she did.

There was nothing worse than having to feel sorry for people who had wronged you. You don't want lottery wins for your enemies, but you don't want tragedies for them either. Then they got the upper hand. Damn those Delaneys.

They'd both apologized, and there had been no lingering bitterness. Will wasn't a sulker. He was actually pretty good at negotiating a compromise. And he rarely lost his sense of humor or ability to laugh at himself. "Did you see the way I repacked your frying pan?" he said. "That was a masterstroke, eh? Put you in your place, didn't it?" For a moment

They never said sorry. They just threw down their still-loaded weapons, ready for next time.

The word 'sorry' is hardly adequate for my actions.

I'm prepared to wait this out. I will wait for you to finish with him." She took a deep, shaky breath. "Have your revolting little affair and then give my husband back.

She was busy thinking about the concept of forgiveness. It was such a lovely, generous idea when it wasn't linked to something awful that needed forgiving.

Now we're not talking. I haven't seen him since. But I know when he comes back, we won't talk. Or if we do, we'll talk very, very politely and coldly--which is the same as not talking.

The fights! You would not believe the fights they had! They'd be wanting to kill each other and I'd put them in separate rooms, but within five minutes they'd be back together again, playing and giggling.

Clementine winced. "I'm sorry, yes, I know, I've been meaning to give you a call, it's just…" "It's just that you don't really want to have any contact with us because you don't want to think about that day and because you didn't really know us that well in the first place," said Tiffany. She was sick of the bullshit. "I get it. I do get it." Clementine flinched.

Every time she fell out of love with him, he saw it happen and waited it out. He never stopped loving her, even those times when he felt deeply hurt and betrayed by her, even in that bad year when they talked about separating, he'd just gone along with it, waiting for her to come back to him, thanking God and his dad up above each time she did.

You forgot about the house, you forgot about the ring. I remember everything, I just wanna hear you sing. I remember the love, right after the fights. You cant tell me you dont remember those nights. and if I would cry, then you would cry twice. To me you are the brightest star under sunlight. See take away my title, take away my stripes. You give me back my girl and you give me back my life. Give me back my girl and you give me back my life.

There is an incongruity inherent to in being a cop and being formerly Amish. Those two worlds are incompatible and clash in a fundamental and profound way. One repels the other and there is no reconciliation. There's no fitting them together no matter how hard you try to pound the pieces into place. The divergence of those two worlds is a beast that tracks me as I pull into the long gravel lane of my brother's farm.

Oh, why did people have to be seperated before they understood how much they meant to each other?

I firmly believe a great many prayers are not answered because we're not willing to forgive someone.

To correct the evils, great and small, which spring from positive enmity among strangers, as nations or as individuals, is one of the highest functions of civilization.