123
" What happiness?Here we have a kind of what they call a multiple choice question.Like any difficult question, let's go through elimination.Happiness is not really about having a good job, but obviously it's not about getting available in the market.It's not in the new car, but it's not about relying on public transport either.She is not in the college diploma, but not is in not having the opportunity to study.It is not in being better than others in some activity, but neither is it in not being good at anything.It is not in the accumulation of capital, but it is not in dependence on the state.In fact, happiness is not even happiness.Happiness is moment. Being with the one you love. Conquer what you want. But pass. Not everything you have seems to be exactly what you wanted. Nothing is eternal. Do you see grace in the eternal?Grace, that all things tend to lose after some time. Our standard of living is transformed.We note then that the happiness that everyone asks themselves is what they call " the meaning of life," that which flows a good way of living.The good way to live that may or may not be eternal. But in the long run it is that state of mind that the glass is half full. It is the result of the counterpart of the onus of the fascinating existential singularity.The question then is not what it is, but how it is. How to achieve.It's part of something. Have recognition. Get answers. All in all. To make things part of you. To recognize what you have. To valuing each achievement. It is action and reaction. It's a verb.Understand that we come into the world in the same way we will leave it: without being able to carry anything, but to leave. In this moment, as well as the good way of living, we transform doubt.Now the question is " what has it left" ? What is your contribution to the world?We have a beginning: be guided by what you can do to make the world better than you have found. We have a beginning ... the rest ... it's up to you. "
126
" She certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him, that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings; and it was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier nature, by the testimony so highly in his favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light, which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem, there was a motive within her of good will which could not be overlooked. It was gratitude.--Gratitude not merely for having once loved her, but for loving her still well enough, to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance, and without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister. Such a change in a man of so much pride, excited not only astonishment but gratitude--for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and as such its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no means unpleasing, though it could not exactly be defined. "
― Jane Austen , Pride and Prejudice
127
" I walk through the black Indiana night, under a ceiling of stars, and think about the phrase " elegance and euphoria," and how it describes exactly what I feel with Violet. For once, I don't want to be anyone but Theodore Finch, the boy she sees. He understands what it is to be elegant and euphoric and a hundered different people most of them flawed and stupid, part asshole, part screwup, part freak, a boy who wants to be easy for the folks around him so that he doesn't worry them and, most of all, easy for himself. A boy who belongs - here in the world, here in his own skin. He is exactly who I want to be and what I want my epitaph to say: The Boy Violet Markey Loves. "
128
" You're my sister," he said finally. " My sister, my blood, my family. I should want to protect you" —he laughed soundlessly without any humor—" to protect you from the sort of boys who want to do with you exactly what I want to do." Clary's breath caught. " You said you just wanted to be my brother from now on." " I lied," he said. " Demons lie, Clary. You know, there are some kinds of wounds you can get when you're a Shadowhunter—internal injuries from demon poison. You don't even know what's wrong with you, but you're bleeding to death slowly inside. That's what it's like, just being your brother." " But Aline—" " I had to try. And I did." His voice was lifeless. " But God knows, I don't want anyone but you. I don't even want to want anyone but you." He reached out, trailed his fingers lightly through her hair, fingertips brushing her cheek. " Now at least I know why." Clary's voice had sunk to a whisper. " I don't want anyone but you, either. "
131
" I paid you five thousand instead and promised the balance only if you made the match. As it turns out, this is your lucky day because I've decided to write you the full check, whether the match comes from you or from Portia. As long as I have a wife and you've been part of the process, you'll get your money." He toasted her with his beer mug. " Congratulations." She put down her fork. " Why would you do that?" " Because it's efficient." " Not as efficient as having Powers handle her own introductions. You're paying her a fortune to do exactly that." " I'd rather have you." Her pulse kicked. " Why?" He gave her the melty smile he must have been practicing since the cradle, one that made her feel as though she was the only woman in the world. " Because you're easier to bully. Do we have a deal or not?" " You don't want a matchmaker. You want a lackey." " Semantics. My hours are erratic, and my schedule changes without warning. It'll be your job to cope with all that. You'll soothe ruffled feathers when I need to cancel at the last minute. You'll keep my dates company when I'm going to be late, entertain them if I have to take a call. If things are going well, you'll disappear. If not, you'll make the woman disappear. I told you before. I work hard at my job. I don't want to have to work hard at this, too." " Basically, you expect me to find your bride, court her, and hand her over at the altar. Or do I have to come on the honeymoon, too?" " Definitely not." He gave her a lazy smile. " I can take care of that all by myself. "
136
" I know exactly who you are.” I took a step forward, and another, until I was standing right in front of him. Then my words turned to ice. “You are the selfish, spineless son of a king who is too afraid to be his own man. You would rather hide behind your status than fight for something that could actually mean something.” There, that felt good. “And it’s a shame, really it is, because, according to you, I was the one true friend you had. "
― Rachel E. Carter , Apprentice (The Black Mage, #2)
137
" For a long moment, he held her gaze without speaking, simply letting the impact of words sink in, before adding rapidly, as though he wished to get it over with as quickly as possible, " I won't deny that you're beautiful. No mirror could tell you otherwise. But there are beautiful women for the buying in any brothel in London. Oh yes, and the ballrooms, too, if one has the proper price. It wasn't your appearance that caught me. It was the way you put me down in the gallery at Sibley Court." Vaughn's lips curved in a reminiscent smile. " And the way you tried to bargain with me after." bargained," Mary corrected." That," replied Lord Vaughn, " is exactly what I mean. Has anyone ever told you that you haggle divinely? That the simple beauty of your self-interest is enough to bring a man to his knees?" Mary couldn't in honesty say that anyone had.Vaughn's eyes were as hard and bright as silver coins. " Those are the reasons I want you. I want you for your cunning mind and your hard heart, for your indomitable spirit and your scheming soul, for they're more honest by far than any of the so-called virtues." " The truest poetry is the most feigning?" Mary quoted back his own words to him." And the most feigning is the most true. "
138
" Once she called to invite me to a concert of Liszt piano concertos. The soloist was a famous South American pianist. I cleared my schedule and went with her to the concert hall at Ueno Park. The performance was brilliant. The soloist's technique was outstanding, the music both delicate and deep, and the pianist's heated emotions were there for all to feel. Still, even with my eyes closed, the music didn't sweep me away. A thin curtain stood between myself and pianist, and no matter how much I might try, I couldn't get to the other side. When I told Shimamoto this after the concert, she agreed." But what was wrong with the performance?" she asked. " I thought it was wonderful." " Don't you remember?" I said. " The record we used to listen to, at the end of the second movement there was this tiny scratch you could hear. Putchi! Putchi! Somehow, without that scratch, I can't get into the music!" Shimamoto laughed. " I wouldn't exactly call that art appreciation." " This has nothing to do with art. Let a bald vulture eat that up, for all I care. I don't care what anybody says; I like that scratch!" " Maybe you're right," she admitted. " But what's this about a bald vulture? Regular vultures I know about--they eat corpses. But bald vultures?" In the train on the way home, I explained the difference in great detail.The difference in where they are born, their call, their mating periods. " The bald vulture lives by devouring art. The regular vulture lives by devouring the corpses of unknown people. They're completely different." " You're a strange one!" She laughed. And there in the train seat, ever so slightly, she moved her shoulder to touch mine. The one and only time in the past two months our bodies touched. "
