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Richelle Goodrich Quotes
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Never give up.This applies to more than goals and dreams, it is a maxim for basic daily struggles. It shapes one's life, including the will to continue to live. It supports love and committed relationships; it bolsters hope, faith, and charity; it is power in every area of existence. Never give up on anything or anyone of any worth, especially yourself.
Richelle E. Goodrich
It is the image of physical brawn, sheer force, and commanding volume we so often associate with might. But I have found the might of an army exists in the faith of a child and in quiet, earnest prayers as well as in the heart of one who loves.
Richelle E. Goodrich
You made me laugh at your jokes.You made me cry at your criticism.You made me shout at your lies.Then I noticed how in every case someone else was present, hearing you without laughter or tears or anger.I alone reacted.I see now; you never made me laugh or cry or rage.I chose to find humor.I chose to take offense.I chose to feel scorned.The truth is, you never had power over me.
Richelle E. Goodrich
My brain tends to take the scenic route. Things come to the forefront of my mind sooner or later, it just takes time.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Family gathersto share good noise and good food.Gratitude abounds.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Oh, how terribly backwards, and yet sadly common, it is to sit scowling at family all the day long and then quickly put on a smile for strangers who drop by.
Richelle E. Goodrich
There should ne’er be a timeWhen a duty or dimeDoth outshineThe importance of family.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I always envisioned myself as traveling the ocean of life in a rowboat where my mother was one oar and my father, the other. Having two good, solid oars made rowing much easier.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Imagine fantasy and pretend as neither fantastical nor pretended.....and then believe it.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I survive on moments of make-believe happiness.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Reality and fantasy are not two separate spheres but one whole. They are like a world's atmosphere―reality behaving as a low front, fantasy a high front. Each remains somewhat distinguishable and yet they swirl and join, affecting and manipulating the other. One cannot perceive where reality ends and fantasy begins, but life would grow stagnant and die without the influence of both.
Richelle E. Goodrich
How crazy it would be if the moon did spin and the earth stood still and the sun went dim!How absolutely ludicrous if snakes could walk and kids could fly and mimes did talk!How silly it would be if the nights were tan and the mornings green and the sun cyan!How totally ridiculous if horses chirped and spiders sang and ladies burped!How shocking it would be if the dragons ruled and the knights were daft but the fish were schooled!How utterly preposterous if rain were dry and snowflakes warm and real men cried!I love to just imagineall the lows as heights,and the salty, sweet,and our lefts as rights.Perhaps it is incredibleand off the hook,but it all makes sensein a storybook!
Richelle E. Goodrich
Some books mirror reality while others are entirely fantasy. My favorite are those that manage to weave both into a world.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I hate you, Edgar. I hate you with all my heart.
Richelle E. Goodrich
She imagined him leaning against the shuttle, entertaining thoughts of scolding her for dressing like a ragged commoner. Never mind that her present outfit was light years ahead in comfort.(Actually, he’s wishing he had been less critical of you earlier. He feels bad that you won’t acknowledge his presence, and he blames himself.)(Quit it, Ian. I’m not going to feel sorry for him.)She caught her protector’s shrewd grin, highlighted by the fire’s glow. (You already do, Queenie.)(This talent of yours is really annoying.)He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “That’s not what you thought earlier when you wanted to get ahold of Efren.” “One tiny rosebud in a handful of thorns,” she retorted.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Eena turned aside, breathing shallowly as her mind raced with questions. She was glad he couldn’t read the confusion that swooped her up like a passing tornado. Was it even possible to genuinely love more than one man? Yes. Oh, yes.She knew it because her heart irrefutably felt it. She loved Derian; it was true. She wasn’t trying to convince herself of it, no matter what Edgar said. She yearned deeply for her captain. But she loved Ian too. She always had. Only she purposefully, appropriately, had set those feelings aside when he made the decision to pursue Angelle. But Angelle was gone now. No, Eena thought to herself, this changes nothing. She scolded her heart for longing for something spent and ended, for even considering the possibility. Her with Ian? No, no, it had to remain in the past.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Thank you,” I managed to say.Replying with a nod, he approached my horse. “Here, let me help you—”I slipped down myself before he could lend a hand, keeping the fur hide in my possession. “I’m not suddenly incapable because I wear a dress, Thaddeus.”“I wasn’t suggesting….” Wisely, he let the issue drop.Lifting an arm, he offered it to me. That’s when I noticed my sword in sheath belted to his waist.“That’s mine!” I declared, reaching for the hilt.Thaddeus managed a quick side-step. He hardened his jaw at my look of incredulity. I would only wait momentarily for an explanation. “I know the sword is yours, Catherine, everyone knows that. But you’re too beautiful tonight to ruin that radiant look with an ugly, leather belt strapped about you.”I was starting to think the man was using compliments as a weapon to defend himself against me. It did work to temper my anger somewhat.“I brought the sword as a cautionary act, just in case those nasty werewolves show up. Seeing how I’ll be standing beside you all evening, the blade will be at your disposal if needed.”I accepted his reasoning and stood down. “Besides,” Thaddeus added, apparently feeling safe, “what’s yours is mine now anyway.”I glared at the fool. “That works both ways, you know.”He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “If it must.”Again, he offered me his arm which I grudgingly accepted.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Stop tormenting Derian.”“Me?” Edgar gaped at her with a clearly fake look of innocence.“Yes, you.”“And what about you? When will you stop tormenting him?” Edgar moved past the young queen to approach the unmoving captain. He circled the man as though he were checking out a statue on display “I’m not tormenting him; why would you say that?”“You have the poor guy believing you actually intend to marry him.” Edgar stopped to fix the captain’s collar, raising it up high and stiff around his
Richelle E. Goodrich
Eena worried to Ian in her thoughts. (You’re not going to let him walk away thinking what I think he’s thinking, are you?)(You won't change his mind. The evidence is a little suggestive. You should have just stayed behin
Richelle E. Goodrich
There are things that make no sense,that seem unreal,that can’t be grasped or understoodor explained,that maybe don’t even exist…And still, somehow, those wonderful things touch and change our lives.Isn’t it strange?
Richelle E. Goodrich
Such a nasty bruise,” he says, staring straight into my eyes. I am stunned he can see it. Delicate to the touch and tender on every side, the bruise is deeper than days. My hand automatically moves to my chest.Science taught me with valid assurance that my heart was fixed in my rib cage, but life has since shown me otherwise. My heart in fact dangles from a tangle of strings. The ends are grasped tight by numerous people who yank and release, having caused many painful bruises over time. I cry because they are invisible to most.“Such a nasty bruise,” he repeats, tugging on my poor heart. His kind eyes fall away from mine as I feel a squeeze on my arm. He twists it enough to show me a small, round patch of purple surrounded by a sickly yellowish corona. “Oh. My elbow.” I let the air exhale from my lungs. Another bruise forms where my heart has hit the floor. It is jerked up again. “Can I do anything for you?” I see in his eyes the mirror image of a finger—his finger—wrapped in one of the dangling strings. He tugs and I feel it.“No,” I reply to his question. But it is a lie. There is something he could do, along with all who grasp a portion of the web entangling my heart. I wish they would mercifully let go.
Richelle E. Goodrich
The ears and the heart are connected, it’s true,for when ears open wide, the heart opens up too.
Richelle E. Goodrich
To love is to accept a soul entirely, not wishing that the person was otherwise, nor hoping for change, nor clinging to some ideal past. To love is to cherish the individual standing before you presently―charms, quirks, and all. To love is to give someone a piece of your heart that you will never, ever reclaim.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Though I may accumulate a great deal of riches in this world, it is only my wealth of knowledge, talents, and emotional bonds that I keep when I leave.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Music is my enchanter, the seducer of my emotions, the fire and ice that moves me.
Richelle E. Goodrich
As sunlight is for flowers, and sustenance for the mortal shell, music is for the human soul.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Life is music to which you choreograph your own dance.
Richelle E. Goodrich
My soul, I’ve found, has puppet strings to make me droop or give me wings.And music is the puppeteerthat turns my ear to hear.
Richelle E. Goodrich
People search the world over looking for someone to love them, when they should be searching for someone to love.
Richelle E. Goodrich
My ears interpreted a mix of nearby voices as calm, friendly, ordinary chatter. With that as background noise, I enjoyed the silent attention of my mate. The way his hand brushed softly over every inch of my bare skin tempted my eyelids to close and my mind to wander, but I kept focused, not wanting to miss a moment of admiring this beautiful man and his seductive, wild look. I felt a flood of emotion set in, born from absolute, interminable love for him. I wished for the voices to cease, for time to halt, for the moment we were living to replay over and over and over again perpetually. The world could have its gain and glory, its vengeance and victories. All I wanted was the enduring love and attention of this man who most assuredly was my soulmate.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Are you ready to go home, Catherine?” he asked. “It’s warm inside the house. I kept a fire going for you.”I continued looking at him, unsure how to respond. “Thanks,” I managed to say and then glanced in the direction of his house—our house. “Well, you are my wife. And I know you don’t like the cold.”I’m his wife, I thought to myself. He had said the words as if that simple fact made it necessary to be both thoughtful and kind. As if having gained a wife or husband meant having also gained her or his concerns, and hence the need to consider the person’s needs, wants, and preferences as strongly as one’s own. It struck me as a perfect description of what marriage ought to be. An agreeable notion that had not entered into my petty way of viewing matrimony. I would have assumed it to be above Thaddeus’ egotistical mindset as well.“Catherine?” he said again, watching me regard him with a quizzical expression. “Are you ready to go home?”I nodded, which made him smile.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Pain defines moments in the lives of all human beings. The trial is not the endurance of pain but the choices we make regarding how to endure.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Even the smallest tender mercy can bring peace when recognized and appreciated.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I felt sad.I felt cold.I felt hurt.I felt forsaken and lonely.I felt doubtful and hesitant.I felt scared and deeply worried. I felt different, unknown, and unwelcome.I felt empty and woefully neglected.I felt weak and intimidated.I felt withdrawn and shy.I felt utterly hopeless.Then you held my hand, and I felt better.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Every single voice—no matter how soft the peep—longs to be heard.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Numerous times throughout history, a single person has made a tremendous impact on the world. I don’t know why anyone would think that can’t still happen.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Why is the eye considered a reliable judge when it knows nothing of love or intelligence?
Richelle E. Goodrich
Books are carnival rides for your imagination.
Richelle E. Goodrich
When someone tells me to 'just relax,' I wonder why they don’t hand me a book?
Richelle E. Goodrich
Art doesn’t bare itself to just anyone, but to believers called artists.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Art and the artist meet in stages, slowly revealing themselves until both are satisfied with what the other has become.
Richelle E. Goodrich
An artist is merely a tool with which art molds itself.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Beauty is a behavior. As is ugliness.
Richelle E. Goodrich
The only two words you should ever say to a mirror are "Hello, Beautiful.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Mirror, mirror on the wall, I have placed you in my hallWhere I wander every day.Echo beauty, and you’ll stay.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Beauty may catch the eye, but a jolly laugh will lasso the heart.
Richelle E. Goodrich
The woman laughed again. She was the loudest person in the cave. Eena wondered if perhaps she was talking to a female Ghengat. Curiosity got the best of her and she turned around to look, surprised to find neither a Ghengat nor a Harrowbethian woman, but a Mishmorat. A striking, cheetah-spotted Mishmorat with straight lengths of charcoal hair and the most alluring dark eyes in existence. This bronzed female was the same size as Eena but observably more muscular. She appeared to be a mix of cheetah, Arabian princess, and gladiator in tight-fitting pants. Eena paused, dropping the stone in her hands. “Kira?” she breathed.“Hmmm,” the woman grumbled. Her painted eyes scrunched with displeasure. The look was still stunning. “I see my reputation precedes me.” Eena gawked as if a legendary ghost had been resurrected. “You’re alive?
Richelle E. Goodrich
Beauty exists, even in unlikely places. The key isn't to open your eyes but to open your heart.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Easter is the miracle of transformation as seen in the change of seasons, in the maturation of mortal persons, and in the resurrection of souls.
Richelle E. Goodrich
There are trials in life that feel as tremendous as a quest to slay dragons. These trials are daunting. They require hard work, determination, and courage. But when the dragon is finally slain, the relief is immense.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Bad habits are demons that often push us into isolation because they know that in our loneliness they stand little chance of being overcome.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Habits grow like dragons if you feed them.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I saw a man climb a mountain with no feet or hands and barely a stump for each arm and leg. At once I realized there was no excuse at all for me not to scale my own mountains.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Nothing remains idle and thrives. Life needs a moving force to prevent the devastating effects of stagnancy. That is why life employs change.
Richelle E. Goodrich
I know you would like to blame the world, but the fact is that life is an 'up to you' thing.
Richelle E. Goodrich
If you suffer lingering doubts; if the consolation you cling to is ‘it will probably be okay,’ then run the other way because what you’re contemplating is not a good choice.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Sadness is the heart withdrawing to seek shelter from the pain.
Richelle E. Goodrich
To be a rainbow in someone’s cloud is commendable, but I prefer to be the rain because it dampens cheeks and washes away tears.
Richelle E. Goodrich
God cries for us in the same way we cry for others. His tears most often spill over for the pain and suffering caused from the mortal misuse of a gift called agency. He will not revoke the gift. It was promised to us for the duration of our time on Earth. But He will hold each one of us accountable in the end for how we applied this power of agency.
Richelle E. Goodrich
Man is dust. Rue is rain. Life is mud.
Richelle E. Goodrich
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