142
" Dear Hunger Games :
Screw you for helping cowards pretend you have to be great with a bow to fight evil.
You don't need to be drafted into a monkey-infested jungle to fight evil.
You don't need your father's light sabre, or to be bitten by a radioactive spider.
You don't need to be stalked by a creepy ancient vampire who is basically a pedophile if you're younger than a redwood.
Screw you mainstream media for making it look like moral courage requires hair gel, thousands of sit ups and millions of dollars of fake ass CGI.
Moral courage is the gritty, scary and mostly anonymous process of challenging friends, co-workers and family on issues like spanking, taxation, debt, circumcision and war.
Moral courage is standing up to bullies when the audience is not cheering, but jeering. It is helping broken people out of abusive relationships, and promoting the inner peace of self knowledge in a shallow and empty pseudo-culture.
Moral courage does not ask for - or receive - permission or the praise of the masses. If the masses praise you, it is because you are helping distract them from their own moral cowardice and conformity. Those who provoke discomfort create change - no one else.
So forget your politics and vampires and magic wands and photon torpedoes. Forget passively waiting for the world to provoke and corner you into being virtuous. It never will.
Stop watching fictional courage and go live some; it is harder and better than anything you will ever see on a screen.
Let's make the world change the classification of courage from 'fantasy' to 'documentary.'
You know there are people in your life who are doing wrong. Go talk to them, and encourage them to pursue philosophy, self-knowledge and virtue.
Be your own hero; you are the One that your world has been waiting for. "
― Stefan Molyneux
145
" I appreciate the fact that you have one redeeming quality, Jack, but that is all it is. Just a hint of redemption with six years of disappointment.
No matter what you do,, it will never make up for what happened between us. I will never trust you. I will never again be comfortable around you. I will never look at you or think of you without considering the destruction you have train wrecked through my life.
I wish you the very best in your future, because without you in my life I think I might finally have a future. And as angry as I am with what you have put me through, I am so very glad that we are now at this moment. This moment means I can move on the bigger and better things without you constantly weighing on my shoulders.
I will never again turn a corner in New York terrified that I will run into you and even more terrified that I won't. I can go into any coffee shop I want.
I can hope for love again. A love that will be more than anything you ever attempted to give me. Because the love I am looking for will be reciprocted one hundred and ten percent. There will never be another someone to distract our affections, because YOU will not be in the picture.
*****So, as sad as this day is for me, as I am losing a part of myself with the loss of you, it is really just the beginning for me. It is like cutting off the spoiled part to get the juicy center. So, I would appreciate it this time, if you did not try and contact me. Because, as I'm sure you know, I deserve much better. I want everything this time around, and I deserve it!***** "
― K.A. Linde , Avoiding Commitment (Avoiding, #1)
153
" After seeing Dylan with the redhead, I sunk deeper into a depression. Even working at Lark’s house did nothing to distract me. I simply went through the motions. Fortunately, Lark was especially tired and slept most of the day, so she never noticed my bad mood.
Harlow wasn’t as oblivious as we washed dishes after dinner.
“What’s up, stinky pup?”
I rolled my eyes at her nickname for me. “Nothing.”
“She doesn’t want to deal with the leaves,” Jace said from behind us. Our ten year old brother crossed his arms like Dad often did when suspicious. “See, she got spooked last night and bailed on raking the leaves. They ended up blowing around the yard and now she’s trying to get out of raking them again.”
“That’s not it.”
“Sure, it is,” he said, his dark hair covering his narrowed eyes. “What else could it be?”
Grumpy, I decided to punish him. “It’s about a sexy guy.”
Jace’s face twisted into horror. “Eww!” he cried, running out of the room.
Harlow and I laughed at the sound of him telling on me to Mom.
“In a few years, girls will be all he thinks about,” I said, returning to the dishes.
Harlow leaned her head against my shoulder. “Sexy guy, huh?”
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your fight?”
Harlow glanced at the clock. “Yeah. When I get back, I want to hear about the sexy guy making you sigh so much.”
As my sister dressed to go, I finished the dishes and struggled to stop sighing.
I was still grumpy when Dad got home. In this living room, he told Harlow to be careful. She said something and laughed.
When Harlow started fighting at the Thunderdome, she called herself Joy and hid it from our parents. She didn’t think they’d approve and she was right. Harlow and I were naïve to assume they wouldn’t find out long before she told them the truth though.
Dad might be a pastor, but he learned about the Lord in prison. As a member of the Reapers, Dad had eyes and ears all over Ellsberg. He likely knew Harlow was fighting before she threw her first punch.
Entering the kitchen, Dad smiled at me. “Stop talking about cute boys around your brother. He has a sensitive gag reflex.”
I laughed as he got himself a beer and joined me at the sink. “Mom said we have leftovers. Mind warming them up for me?”
Shaking my head, I filled a plate and set it in the microwave.
“Are you okay?” Dad asked, frowning at me. “You look worn down.”
“I had a long day.”
“You sure that’s it?”
We watched each other and I remembered the first time he asked if I was okay. Five years earlier when I was brought to this house and met my new family. I didn’t remember a lot from that day besides thinking these people were too good to be true. I figured they’d wait until Kirk was gone then hurt me.
I couldn’t remember when I knew Dad was a good man who loved me. Not like my real dad loved me. Tad felt the kind of love a person died to protect. I saw the love in his eyes as he waited for his food to finish warming.
“I wish I was stronger.”
“So do I,” he said softly. “Everyone does. They just don’t admit it. That’s what makes you so brave. You can admit your fears.”
Even thinking he was full of shit, I smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
Taking his plate out of the microwave, he inhaled. “Mom makes the best meatloaf.”
“I made it.”
Grinning, Dad nudged me with his hip. “If you make this meatloaf for the boy you’re hung up on, you’ll own him.”
“I’ll remember that. "
― Bijou Hunter , Damaged and the Bulldog (Damaged, #6)
157
" She yanked her hand away as if he had burned her, rubbing her palm along her thigh. The feeling didn’t go away, and neither did the butterflies he had sent winging in her stomach. “How do you know you’re not a vampire?” She needed to distract him, distract both of them. “Maybe you forgot. You’re certainly capable of acting like one.”
This time he laughed, startling both of them. The sound was husky, low, and foreign to his ears, as if he had forgotten what it was like. His black eyes leapt to her face almost in fear.
“Not bad, wild man. First a growl, and now a laugh. We’re making progress.” Her eyes danced at him, reassured him. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
