He loves her for everything she is and is not. She’s old enough to appreciate that.

You are one woman in an endless line of women who were chosen to love more passionately than others, be committed to justice more fervently than others, and seek our Maker’s higher expressions more reflectively than others.

It is interesting how one word can spark memories that one believes she has buried beyond recognition. War reminded me of the sharp and bittersweet smell of burning homes, temples, and palaces. It made my eyes cloud over with a haze of dense smoke, kicked up dirt as people went running and careening around corners, and the flashing colors of different garments as citizens ran in all directions, their lives suddenly meaningless. The word war made me twelve years old again and frightened beyond sanity.

When asked my advice as I stroll through the town,“A good lady knows how to take a political assassin down.

Her face may have been the most beautiful female face I have ever seen. Yet, it was a beauty that was intimidating and overwhelming. It was an exquisiteness that made you want to turn and run, instead of approach.

For the hand of a beauty with honest words and sensibilities so mighty.“Though your mother and father had hoped for something more fragile (and flighty),

During the day I negotiated buying mom and pop companies and incorporating them into our larger network. Sometimes we let the original owners stay on as consultants. Rarely, actually, if I’m being honest and, even when we did, it never usually lasted for very long. Mostly, those once proud owners would see the box store makeover of their businesses and decide that retirement in some warm locale really did seem the better option. Did I ever feel guilty looking at these hardworking people and taking everything they’d assembled? Not even a little. Would you feel guilty handing someone hundreds of thousands or, in some cases, millions of dollars to go do whatever tickles their fancy?

It is interesting how one word can spark memories that one believes she has buried beyond recognition.

It’s like people immediately imagine me sitting in some gothic, sweeping castle in Edinburgh, a piece of fine bone china full of English tea next to my neat writing station. They think that my car, my purse, my everything was financed by my lucrative but somehow not too time consuming writing career. I’ve even had one guy ask me if my hand cramps at signings. While I wanted to give a snarky, “Yes, just like Tom Brady’s does,” I can’t pull off snarky. My sarcasm immediately goes into b**ch territory

She had the feeling, the tingling, lingering sense that something or someone life altering was just over the horizon. She had no idea what it was, but she wanted to rush headlong to bring it to her.

Healthy relationships, even those that eventually end with breakups, aren’t a mistake. They’re a chance to grow and learn, about who you are, who you want to be, what kind of relationships are worth your time and energy. I hate this assumption that when people end a romantic relationship they leave a piece of their heart behind, they shatter and will be unable to offer their next partner their whole, pure self. People aren’t puzzles or vases. People have an endless capacity both to learn and to love. People also aren’t property. They do not become less valuable or tarnished by use.

They never say this,but it’s true,it was raining the first time I saw you.

She did not date. She did not have time for men. Men were never, ever worth a great amount of energy. She was the kind of woman that looked down on what she called ‘settlers’, women who chose love and fleeting passion that turned to dull, lifeless marriages over a career and independence.