The most powerful and courageous heroes I know are those who bite their tongues when justification, validation, temptation, or vengeance would have them strike with truthful, hurtful words.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Courage doesn’t defeat fear or erase fear or adjust to fear. Courage acts, plain and simple, in the midst of fear.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Mad fearlessness is not courage. The only requirement for courage is a good heart.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Courage isn’t being a dragon. Neither is it behaving like a dragon. Nor is it taking up arms to fight and defeat dragons. Courage is being a lamb standing with poise among dragons.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Laughing in the face of danger doesn't negate the fear, it simply enables you to smile at it.

Richelle E. Goodrich

It is an incapacitating emotion one feels upon hearing the whispered words "I still love you" after deeply hurting that soul. Forgiveness isn't weakness.It is power.

Richelle E. Goodrich

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

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 think I like wildflowers best," I explain. "They just grow wherever they want. No one has to plant them. And then their seeds blow in the wind and they find a new place to grow." (Richelle)

Rebecca Donovan

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

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Richelle Quotes - Page 14

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