3
" That was the only time, as I stood there, looking at that strange rubbish, feeling the wind coming across those empty fields, that I started to imagine just a little fantasy thing, because this was Norfolk after all, and it was only a couple of weeks since I’d lost him. I was thinking about the rubbish, the flapping plastic in the branches, the shore-line of odd stuff caught along the fencing, and I half-closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field, and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he'd wave, maybe even call. The fantasy never got beyond that --I didn't let it-- and though the tears rolled down my face, I wasn't sobbing or out of control. I just waited a bit, then turned back to the car, to drive off to wherever it was I was supposed to be. "
― Kazuo Ishiguro , Never Let Me Go
5
" Laugh, even when you feel too sick or too worn out or tired.
Smile, even when you're trying not to cry and the tears are blurring your vision.
Sing, even when people stare at you and tell you your voice is crappy.
Trust, even when your heart begs you not to.
Twirl, even when your mind makes no sense of what you see.
Frolick, even when you are made fun of. Kiss, even when others are watching. Sleep, even when you're afraid of what the dreams might bring.
Run, even when it feels like you can't run any more.
And, always, remember, even when the memories pinch your heart. Because the pain of all your experience is what makes you the person you are now. And without your experience---you are an empty page, a blank notebook, a missing lyric. What makes you brave is your willingness to live through your terrible life and hold your head up high the next day. So don't live life in fear. Because you are stronger now, after all the crap has happened, than you ever were back before it started. "
― Alysha Speer
13
" Ian saw the tears shimmering in her magnificent eyes and one of them traced unheeded down her smooth cheek.With a raw ache in his voice he said, " If you would take one step forward, darling, you could cry in my arms. And while you do, I'll tell you how sorry I am for everything I've done - " Unable to wait, Ian caught her, pulling her tightly against him. " And when I'm finished," he whispered hoarsely as she wrapped her arms around him and wept brokenly, " you can help me find a way to forgive myself." Tortured by her tears, he clasped her tighter and rubbed his jaw against her temple, his voice a ravaged whisper: " I'm sorry," he told her. He cupped her face between his palms, tipping it up and gazing into her eyes, his thumbs moving over her wet cheeks. " I'm sorry." Slowly, he bent his head, covering her mouth with his. " I'm so damned sorry. "
15
" Stumbling closer, I held up the manuscript, the pages flapping frantically in the wind. “I take it this is a murder mystery? You killed the ex-fiancée and thanked her in the dedication? Mighty dignified of you, I must say.”
“Nah. It’s a horror novel. But yeah, the bimbo dies in the end. Bob Hall says it’s going to be a bestseller, so I figured I owed her some thanks for the inspiration.” He edged a few feet closer, his smile spread from ear to ear. The glimmer in his eyes flickered toward the ocean, breaking our connection. He hung his head, licked his lips, then returned his eyes to mine, restoring the connection with an intense smolder. “Are you gonna get over here, or what?”
Letting out a soft chuckle, the tears began to blind me. “Make me. "
― , Preservation (Preservation, #1)
16
" Oh heaven and hell, stop with the tears. Given the day Sarah had just had, the tears were logical. But watching her face crumple, hearing the gut-deep harsh sobs, filled Rukh with an irrational need to pull her into his arms, wrap her in a hug.
As soon as the urge had gelled into conscious thought, his essence hardened into visibility and his arms slid up around her shivering, wet body.
Sarah’s eyes popped open and she staggered back with a yell.
His arms tightened around her, steadying her, keeping her close. Well, shit. At least, she’d stopped
crying.
Fear-bright green eyes stared at him instead.
Given he was an assassin, sent to kill her, her response was natural, even intelligent. Yet, bitterness churned in his gut at the thought of her fearing him.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”
“Am I hallucinating?” Her question came out as a croak.
“Yes, yes you are.” That seemed a much better answer than the truth.
She pinned him with her dark, direct gaze. “You’re just a figment of my imagination. A fantasy?”
“Yes.” He didn’t dare move.
“Then why are you still wearing clothes? "
― Mina Khan