Before We Kiss (Fool’s Gold Book 16)” by Susan Mallery –
“Sam glanced at the door and thought about bolting. This wasn’t his area of expertise. Yet even as he inched toward freedom, he realized that he knew exactly what she was doing wrong. His mother would be so proud. He took a seat across from Fayrene.
“This has to stop,” he told her. “Put on your big-girl panties and tell Ryan what you want.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t.”
“You won’t. There’s a difference. If you’re not prepared to ask for what you want from a man who loves you very much, then you’re not ready for marriage. It’s a full-time commitment. It requires everything you have, and being honest about how you feel is the cornerstone to success. If you can’t be honest about this, what else won’t you be able to talk about?””
This is some excellent advice :-).
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“Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” by J.K. Rowling –
“I’d like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps by casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings in your street. Many lives could be saved if such simple measures are taken.”
“And what would you say, Royal, to those who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be ‘Wizards first’?” asked Lee.
“I’d say that it’s one short step from ‘Wizards first’ to ‘Purebloods first,’ and then to ‘Death Eaters,’” replied Kingsley. “We’re all human, aren’t we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.””
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“Murder, Plainly Read: An Amish Quilt Shop Mystery” by Isabella Alan –
““Everyone in my old district disliked the old bishop in some way or another. He was a hard man. To him, life was meant to be about work and suffering. There was no joy in his heart. He believed the more you worked and the more miserable you were, the closer you were to Gott. It was something I could never believe. If Gott loves us so much, how could he want us to suffer?”
I blew on a spoonful of stew. “Even still, it must have been hard to leave.”
He was quiet for a moment. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” He smiled at his wife. “But I have never regretted my decision. I know this is the path that Gott wanted for me.””
Yes, this is fiction, but the idea is true for most conservative religions: one person trying to pick the path of another by proclaiming that “it’s what God wants”. A prominent example that routinely pisses me off is the idea that women belong in the home while men are the sole income earner. The abuse that tends to come out of this “ideal” is appalling.
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“Born of Legend (The League: Nemesis Rising)” by Sherrilyn Kenyon –
“Maybe they know me better than I do, really. Are we not all a thousand characters in millions of plays throughout our lifetime? Is Ushara the mother the same character as Ushara the daughter? Or Ushara the admiral the same as Ushara the older sister? Or the younger sister? Did your husband not know a different side of you than anyone else in your life? What about the male who knows Ushara the testicle-launcher? I’m sure he would paint a very different image of you than I would. Who among us is not ever-changing? Ever evolving into someone new? Maybe someone better … or someone worse.”
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“The War of the Worlds (Signet Classics)” by H.G. Wells, Karl Kroeber, Isaac Asimov –
“It was about two o’clock when my brother, having paid their fares at the gangway, found himself safely aboard the steamboat with his charges. There was food aboard, albeit at exorbitant prices, and the three of them contrived to eat a meal on one of the seats forward.
There were already a couple of score of passengers aboard, some of whom had expended their last money in securing a passage, but the captain lay off the Blackwater until five in the afternoon, picking up passengers until the seated decks were even dangerously crowded. He would probably have remained longer had it not been for the sound of guns that began about that hour in the south.”
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“Drums Of Autumn (Outlander, Book 4)” by Diana Gabaldon –
“Ulysses came down the stairs above me, impeccable in his livery. I moved, and he turned his head, catching the flicker of my skirts. His eyes widened in a look of frank appreciation as he saw me, and I looked down, smiling a bit, as one does when being admired. Then I heard him gasp and jerked my head up to see his eyes still wide, but now with fear; his hand so tight on the banister that the knuckles shone.
“Your pardon, madame,” he said, sounding strangled, and rushed down the stairs and past me, head down, leaving the door to the cookhouse breezeway swinging in his wake.
“What on earth …?” I said aloud, and then I remembered where—and when—we were. Alone for so long, in a house with a blind mistress and no master, he had grown careless. He had momentarily forgotten that most basic and essential protection—the only true protection a slave had: the blank, bland face that hid all thoughts. No wonder he had been terrorized when he realized what he had done.
If it had been any woman other than myself to have intercepted that unguarded look … my hands grew cold and sweaty, and I swallowed, the remembered scent of blood and turpentine sharp in my throat.”
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