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" When God Created Mothers" When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of " overtime" when the angel appeared and said. " You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one." And God said, " Have you read the specs on this order?" She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts...all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands." The angel shook her head slowly and said. " Six pairs of hands.... no way." It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God remarked, " it's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have." That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. God nodded. One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, 'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say. 'I understand and I love you' without so much as uttering a word." God," said the angel touching his sleeve gently, " Get some rest tomorrow...." I can't," said God, " I'm so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick...can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger...and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower." The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. " It's too soft," she sighed. But tough!" said God excitedly. " You can imagine what this mother can do or endure." Can it think?" Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise," said the Creator. Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. There's a leak," she pronounced. " I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model." It's not a leak," said the Lord, " It's a tear." What's it for?" It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride." You are a genius, " said the angel. Somberly, God said, " I didn't put it there. "
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" He shook his head, just looking at me. - " What?" I asked.- " Nothing" he said.- " Why are you looking at me like that?" Augustus half smiled. " Because you`re beautiful. I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence." A brief awkward silence ensued. Augustus plowed through: " I mean, particularly given that, as you so deliciously pointed out, all of this will end in oblivion and everything." I kind of scoffed or sighed or exhaled in a way that was vaguely coughy and then said, " I`m not beau-" - " You are like a millennial Natalie Portman. Like V for Vendetta Natalie Portman." - " Never seen it." - " Really?" he asked. " Pixie-haired gorgeous girl dislikes authority and can`t help but fall for a boy she knows is trouble. It`s your autobiography, so far as I can tell." His every syllable flirted. Honestly, he kind of turned me on. I didn`t even know that guys could turn me on - not, like, in real life. "
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" I have loved in life and I have been loved. I have drunk the bowl of poison from the hands of love as nectar, and have been raised above life's joy and sorrow. My heart, aflame in love, set afire every heart that came in touch with it. My heart has been rent and joined again; My heart has been broken and again made whole; My heart has been wounded and healed again; A thousand deaths my heart has died, and thanks be to love, it lives yet. I went through hell and saw there love's raging fire, and I entered heaven illumined with the light of love. I wept in love and made all weep with me; I mourned in love and pierced the hearts of men; And when my fiery glance fell on the rocks, the rocks burst forth as volcanoes. The whole world sank in the flood caused by my one tear; With my deep sigh the earth trembled, and when I cried aloud the name of my beloved, I shook the throne of God in heaven.I bowed my head low in humility, and on my knees I begged of love, " Disclose to me, I pray thee, O love, thy secret." She took me gently by my arms and lifted me above the earth, and spoke softly in my ear, " My dear one, thou thyself art love, art lover, and thyself art the beloved whom thou hast adored. "
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" My mother made a squeaking sound that might of been either " yes" or " help" .Poseidon took it as a yes and came in.Paul was looking back and forth between us, trying to read our expressions.Finally he stepped forward." Hi, I'm Paul Blofis." Poseidon raised an eyebrow and then shook his hand." Blowfish, did you say?" " Ah, no. Blofis, actually." " Oh, I see," Poseidon said. " A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon." " Poseidon? That's an interesting name." " Yes, I like it. I've gone by other names, but I do prefer Poseidon." " Like the god of the sea." " Very much like that, yes" " Well!" My mother interrupted. " Um, were so glad you could drop by. Paul, this is Percy's father." " Ah." Paul nodded, though he didn't look real pleased. " I see." Poseidon smiled at me. " There you are, my boy. And Tyson, hello, son!" " Daddy!" Tyson [shouted]...Paul's jaw dropped. He stared at my mother. " Tyson is..." " Not mine," she promised. " It's a long story. "
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" I didn't realize there was a ranking." I said. " Sadie frowned. " What do you mean?" " A ranking," I said. " You know, what's crazier than what." " Oh, sure there is," Sadie said. She sat back in her chair. " First you have your generic depressives. They're a dime a dozen and usually pretty boring. Then you've got the bulimics and the anorexics. They're slightly more interesting, although usually they're just girls with nothing better to do. Then you start getting into the good stuff: the arsonists, the schizophrenics, the manic-depressives. You can never quite tell what those will do. And then you've got the junkies. They're completely tragic, because chances are they're just going to go right back on the stuff when they're out of here." " So junkies are at the top of the crazy chain," I said. Sadie shook her head. " Uh-uh," she said. " Suicides are." I looked at her. " Why?" " Anyone can be crazy," she answered. " That's usually just because there's something screwed up in your wiring, you know? But suicide is a whole different thing. I mean, how much do you have to hate yourself to want to just wipe yourself out? "
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" Izzy, are you—” he began. His eyes flew wide, and he backed up fast enough to smack his head into the wall behind him. “What is he doing here?”
Isabelle tugged her tank top back down and glared at her brother. “You don’t knock now?”
“It—It’s my bedroom!” Alec spluttered. He seemed to be deliberately trying not to look at Izzy and Simon, who were indeed in a very compromising position. Simon rolled quickly off Isabelle, who sat up, brushing herself off as if for lint. Simon sat up more slowly, trying to hold the torn edges of his shirt together. “Why are all my clothes on the floor?” Alec said.
“I was trying to find something for Simon to wear,” Isabelle explained. “Maureen put him in leather pants and a puffy shirt because he was being her romance-novel slave.”
“He was being her what?”
“Her romance-novel slave,” Isabelle repeated, as if Alec were being particularly dense.
Alec shook his head as if he were having a bad dream. “You know what? Don’t explain. Just—put your clothes on, both of you. "
― Cassandra Clare , City of Heavenly Fire (The Mortal Instruments, #6)