Forever and ever, kid, until you're sick and tired of seeing me.

Falling into ruin was a bit like falling in love: Both descents stripped you bare and left you as you were at your core. And both endings are equally painful.

Never hold resentments for the person who tells you what you need to hear; count them among your truest, most caring, and valuable friends.

The bittersweet about truth is that nothing could be more hurtful, yet nothing could be more helpful.

I love God, Jesus Christ, my three children, mother, father, brother, sisters, family in general, my pets, my students, and true friends.

Ethan was loyal and funny and protective. When we were little, he was the brother most likely to make me cry—and mostly likely to wipe away my tears.

Some of us can live without a society but not without a family.

In united families, they might sleep with half filled stomach but no one sleeps with empty stomach.

You can take the Indian out of the family, but you cannot take the family out of the Indian.

In your name, the family name is at last because it's the family name that lasts.

You don't get to be a keeper of the faith without being a keeper of your brother.

The world is full of unrequited love,' I said finally.'You and Patrick having problems?' Dad said, reaching around to get the butter out of the fridge.'No, I was just wondering what you would say if I was a lesbian.''Come again?' said Lester. 'I'm having a hard time following this conversation.

Do we have a hand mirror?' I asked from the kitchen doorway.'Never use one,' said Lester, examining the date on a carton of sour cream.'Naturally, you're a male. What you see is what you've got,' I said resentfully.'Huh?' said Lester.

It is something that cannot be explained or even understood until you’ve lived it; a man can’t know or fully appreciate his life until he’s been close enough to taste the end of it, and the bonds forged in battle are some of the strongest a man could ever have. We are brothers, the men of ODA 022, and though we didn’t have the same blood running through our veins, we had all shed the blood of others together, and knew that none of us would hesitate to step in the way of fate and take a round or jump on a grenade to save one another.

From birth to death and further onAs we were born and introduced into this world,We had a gift hard to express by wordAnd somewhere in our continuous road,It kind of lost it sense and turned.There was that time we sure remember,When everything was now and 'till foreverChildren with no worries and no regrets,The only goal was making a few friends.But later on everything has changed,By minds that had it all arrangedTo bring the people into stress,Into creating their own mess.We have been slaved by our own mind,Turned into something out of our kindSlowly faded away from the present time,Forced to believe in lies, in fights and crime.They made it clearly a fight of the ego,A never ending war that won't just goThey made it a competitive game,To seek selfish materialistic fame.They turned us one against eachother,Man against man, brother against brotherDividing us by religion and skin color,Making us fight to death over a dollar.Making us lose ourselves in sadly thoughts,Wasting our days by living in the pastDepressed and haunted by the memories,And yet still hoping to fly in our dreams.Some of us tried learning how to dance,Step after step, giving our soul a new chanceSome of us left our ego vanish into sounds,Thus being aware of our natural bounce.Some tried expressing in their rhymes,The voice of a generation which never diesThey reached eternity through poetryLeaving the teachings that shall fulfill the prophecyOthers have found their way through spirituality,Becoming conscious of the human dualitySeeking the spiritual enlightenment,Of escaping an ego-oriented fightingScience, philosophy, religion,Try to explain the human origin.Maybe changes are yet to come,And it shall be better for someDeath's for the spirit not an end,But a relieving of the embodimentSo I believe that furthermore,We'll understand the power of our soulBut leaving behind all we know,And all that we might not yet knowIt all resumes to that certain truth,That we all seek to once conclude.

Is he always like that?' Sandra asked.'Well, he lives his life courting different girls week and after week and being incredibly successful, so you're pretty much giving him a run for his money,' he said with a wink at Janis.'Not my cup of tea,' Janis answered.'And I can't admire you even more,' Jared grinned.

The fact that you have just buried your parent or parents and/or sibling or siblings does not make you less likely to die today.

The answer to the question ‘How many children do you have?’ and the one to the question ‘How many children are you raising?’ are not identical in all cases: some men are not taking care of their own children, some are knowingly or unknowingly raising other men’s children, and some do not even know that they each have a child, another child, or other children.

There are three impossibilities in life: God cannot lie, God cannot change and finally, I cannot be a poor man.

What can I tell you about the alchemy of twins?Twins are two bodies that dance to each other’s joy.Two minds that drownin each other’s despair.Two spirits that flywith each other’s love.Twins are two separate beingsconjoined at the heart!

I pulled the sheet off their faces. Their faces were black with coal dust and didn't look like anything was wrong with them except they were dirty. The both of them had smiles on their faces. I thought maybe one of them had told a joke just before they died and, pain and all, they both laughed and ended up with a smile. Probably not true but but it made me feel good to think about it like that, and when the Sister came in I asked her if I could clean their faces and she said, "no, certainly not!" but I said, "ah, c'mon, it's me brother n' father, I want to," and she looked at me and looked at me, and at last she said, "of course, of course, I'll get some soap and water."When the nun came back she helped me. Not doing it, but more like showing me how, and taking to me, saying things like "this is a very handsome man" and "you must have been proud of your brother" when I told her how Charlie Dave would fight for me, and "you're lucky you have another brother"; of course I was, but he was younger and might change, but she talked to me and made it all seem normal, the two of us standing over a dead face and cleaning the grit away. The only other thing I remember a nun ever saying to me was, "Mairead, you get to your seat, this minute!

When did the very first case of racism even occur? When did such blind hatred devour the souls of men and make them turn on their own brothers and sisters? What ever taught them that it was normal to be such monsters?

To the loyal and to the blood-lovers, in the good families and in the fiery dynasties, life is family and family is life. It is the same people who give advice and their vices to live well who turn out to be the ones who give resource and reason to live long.

Mandy, I hardly think this was appropriate, not after… you know… after the funeral we haven’t had the money for any of your weird little games and I was hoping you’d be more mature now that Jud’s gone,” her father had disappointedly added. “How much’d that cake cost you?”“It’s paid for,” Mandy had argued, but her voice had sounded tiny in the harbour wind. “I used the cash from my summer job at Frenchy’s last year and I… it was my birthday, dad!”“You can’t even be normal about this one thing, can you?” her father had complained.Mandy hadn’t cried, she’d only stared back knowingly, her voice shaky. “…I’m normal.

Book Excerpt:"What about your family, Abu Huwa? Are you an orphan?” the little girl very innocently asked the Sphinx.“My father and your father are one and the same. However, I do have a brother who has stood as my mirror throughout time on the opposite horizon. It is I who faces east, but it is he who faces west. I am the recorder of yesterday and he holds the records of tomorrow. I am the positive, and he is my negative. I carry the right eye of the sun and he carries the left eye of the moon. He keeps his eye on the underworld and I keep an eye on the world over. Together we have joined the sky and earth, and split fire and water.”Seham stood on all toes to peek over the Sphinx's shoulder for a sign of his brother. “Where is he?” she asked, her eyes still searching the open horizon.“He has yet to be uncovered, but as I stand above the sands of time, he still sleeps below. Before the descent of Adam, we have both stood as loyal Protectors of the Two Halls of Truth.”The girl asked in astonishment, “I've never heard of these halls, Abu Huwa. Where are they?”“At the end of each of our tails is a passage that will reveal to you the secrets of Time. One hall reflects a thousand truths, and the other hall reflects all that is untrue. One will speak to your heart, and the other will speak to your mind. This is why you need to use both your heart and mind to understand which one is real, and which is a distorted illusion created to misguide those that have neglected their conscience. Both passageways connect you to the Great Hall of Records.”“What is the Hall of Records?”“The Great Pyramid, my child. It is as multidimensional in its shape as it is in its purpose. Every layer and every brick marks the coming of a prophet, the ascension of evil, or another cycle of man. It contains the entire history and future of mankind. And, as is above, so is below. Above ground, it serves as the most powerful energy source to harmonize and power the world! The shape of the pyramid above ground is also the same image mirrored beneath it. Underground, it serves as a powerful well and drain. This is really why Egypt is called the Land of Two Lands. There exists a huge world of its own underneath the plateau, a world within worlds. Large amounts of gold, copper and mercury were once housed here, including the secrets of Time, the 100th name of He Who Is All, and a gift from Truth that still awaits to be discovered. It sleeps with Time in the Great Pyramid, hidden away in a lower shaft that leads to the stars.”Dialogue from 'The Little Girl and the Sphinx' by Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun (Dar-El Shams, 2010)

Starting a business with brother either ends business or ends brotherhood.

It's a commonly expressed and rather nice, romantic notion that we are all "sisters" and "brot

You can only be your brother's keeper if he allows you

The only reason that some people aren’t ashamed of their parents and/or siblings is because they know that we know that they did not choose them.

I remember our childhood dayswhen life was easyand math problems hard.Mom would help us with our homeworkand dad was not at home but at work.After our chores, we’d go to the old fort museum with clips in our hair and pure joy in our hearts.You, sister, wore the bangles thatyou, brother, got as a prize from the Dentist.“Why the bangles?” the Dentist asked, surprised, for boys picked the stickers of cars instead.“They’re for my sisters,” you said.Mom would treat us to a bottle of Coke,a few sips each. Then,we’d buy the sweet smelling bread from the same white vanand hand-in-hand,we’d walk to our small flat above the restaurant.I remember our childhood days.Do you remember them too?

Mandy was thinking back to when she was five years old, when she, her parents and Jud went outside before Christmas and had a snowball fight with the gray snow of Sydney Mines. “This is a wicked blast,” Jud would say, and Mandy would snap photos with a 35mm disposable film camera, photos she wished very much she could step into sometimes.

Maybe we would grow apart, he would develop a personality that I would know nothing about, we would start our families, have children of our own, and there would come a point when in thinking about 'family' we would think of the ones we made, not the ones we were from.

I tried to put myself in his place, and realized we looked exactly like what we were: a family. These strangely tied together individuals trying desperately to keep both ourselves and one another happy. Succeeding, and failing, and succeeding. When Jeremy called me up to light one of the thirteen candles on the cake, he said the kindest things, and I knew he meant each and every one. He talked about me teaching him how to ride a bike, how to swim, how to kick an arcade game in just the right place to get a free play. He was remembering the best of me. The way he spoke, I almost recognized who he was talking about.

A man of God has many brothers. He is a wounded soldier - he is familiar with the pain one feels in his heart, as a close and loving brother, when a brother falls victim of evil men or turns to evil desires (the latter sometimes even betrayal). Because of this, too, he is and must be well-acquainted with and trained in the strengths of hope and the gentleness of forgiveness and mercy.

who knows you better than your own brother?

Little Pete. He’s not exactly just Astrid’s autistic brother.” He explained briefly while Toto added a chorus of “Sam believes that’s true” remarks.“How do we get Little Pete to do anything?” Dekka asked.“The last time Little Pete felt mortal danger he made the FAYZ,” Sam said. “He needs to be in mortal danger again.”Jack and Dekka exchanged a wary look, each wondering what the other had known or guessed about Little Pete.“Little Pete?” Jack asked. “That little kid has that kind of power?”“Yes,” Sam said simply. “Next to Pete, me, Caine, all of us, we’re like . . . like popguns compared to a cannon. We don’t even know what the limits of his powers are,” Sam said. “What we do know is we can’t communicate with him very well. We can’t even guess what he’s thinking.”“Little Pete,” Dekka muttered and shook her head. “I knew he was important, I got that a long time ago. But he can do that? He has that kind of power?” She pondered for a moment, nodded, and said, “I see why you kept it secret. It’s like having a nuclear weapon in the hands of, well, a little autistic kid.

The world has grown too large for one army of the nation, my brother. You will ride where I tell you to ride, conquer where I tell you to conquer. The world is yours, if you can put aside the base part of you that tells you to rule it all. That you may not have. Now give me an answer and your oath. Your word is iron, brother, and I will take it. Or I can just kill you now.

Gentlemen,” the king called out, “and ladies, First Meal is getting cold.” Which was the cue for everyone to head back to the dining room and actually eat what had been only studiously ignored up until now. With Payne safe and at home, appetites were free to roam once more . . . although as God was his witness he was not going to think about what the hell that surgeon and his sister were no doubt about to get into. As he groaned, Jane tightened her arm around his waist. “Are you all right?” He glanced down at his shellan. “I don’t think my sister is old enough to have sex.” “V, she’s the same age you are.” He frowned for a moment. Was she? Or had he been born first? Yeah, only one place to go for the answer to that. Shit, he hadn’t even thought of his mother in all this. And now that he was . . . he had absolutely no desire or interest to pop up there and announce that Payne was doing great, fuck you very

When you are a grown up your brothers become your neighbors and your unconditional brotherhood become your conditional neighborhood.

Once my brother was very angry on my parents and told them “You should have killed me when I was a child” Interestingly I was present and told him “I don’t think it is still too late” and I have never heard him complaining about life.

What do you know about somebody not being good enough for somebody else? And since when did you care whether Corinthians stood up or fell down? You've been laughing at us all your life. Corinthians. Mama. Me. Using us, ordering us, and judging us: how we cook your food; how we keep your house. But now, all of a sudden, you have Corinthians' welfare at heart and break her up from a man you don't approve of. Who are you to approve or disapprove anybody or anything? I was breathing air in the world thirteen years before your lungs were even formed. Corinthians, twelve. . . . but now you know what's best for the very woman who wiped the dribble from your chin because you were too young to know how to spit. Our girlhood was spent like a found nickel on you. When you slept, we were quiet; when you were hungry, we cooked; when you wanted to play, we entertained you; and when you got grown enough to know the difference between a woman and a two-toned Ford, everything in this house stopped for you. You have yet to . . . move a fleck of your dirt from one place to another. And to this day, you have never asked one of us if we were tired, or sad, or wanted a cup of coffee. . . . Where do you get the RIGHT to decide our lives? . . . I'll tell you where. From that hog's gut that hangs down between your legs. . . . I didn't go to college because of him. Because I was afraid of what he might do to Mama. You think because you hit him once that we all believe you were protecting her. Taking her side. It's a lie. You were taking over, letting us know you had the right to tell her and all of us what to do. . . . I don't make roses anymore, and you have pissed your last in this house.

People usualy use "move on" when their heart broke because of love. Most don't understand when father, mother, sister or brother has died, you might have needed more strength to move on. It was like living with no air.

And the kids?""Quincy, nothing. All she wants to do is look for Saturn's rings and bring home every creature from the pound. Nelson, though, he's..." She looked at Nicholas. "He's like you. Gifted, but ignorant."Nicholas bristled, "I'm not ignorant.""You are about magic.""That's because I don't believe in magic.""Nicholas," She stopped, hands on hips, waiting until he turned around. "You're haunted. You see the dead. How can you not believe in magic?

A friend is the wax that keeps the flame lit, an enemy is the wind that blows it out.

I don't feel the need to explain my actions to her. I don't clarify, I don't doubt, I don't worry. I don't tell her everything, not anymore, but I tell her more than anyone else, by far. I tell her as much as I can.

Like Mum and that bastard.” “You mean Da?”“Call him what you like.

When you feel angry or frustrated at a brother for using a particular defense -- being controlling or whatever it is -- you are failing to forgive yourself for the very same attempt; you still believe that the defense has a reality. You are seeing it out there but when you start to pull it back to your mind, you start to see the control in yourself. The guilt from transferring it from one seeming person/body to another seeming person/body is enormous. Instead of blaming your brother, the blame gets turned onto your own seeming body, but it is still the same error. We have to see that I am mind; this identity that I took off of my brother but still saw in myself is also just a construct in my mind. Otherwise, what good is the transfer?

The missing remained missing and the portraits couldn't change that. But when Akhmed slid the finished portrait across the desk and the family saw the shape of that beloved nose, the air would flee the room, replaced by the miracle of recognition as mother, father, sister, brother, aunt, and cousin found in that nose the son, brother, nephew, and cousin that had been, would have been, could have been, and they might race after the possibility like cartoon characters dashing off a cliff, held by the certainty of the road until they looked down -- and plummeted is the word used by the youngest brother who, at the age of sixteen, is tired of being the youngest and hopes his older brother will return for many reasons, not least so he will marry and have a child and the youngest brother will no longer be youngest; that youngest brother, the one who has nothing to say about the nose because he remembers his older brother's nose and doesn't need the nose to mean what his parents need it to mean, is the one who six months later would be disappeared in the back of a truck, as his older brother was, who would know the Landfill through his blindfold and gag by the rich scent of clay, as his older brother had known, whose fingers would be wound with the electrical wires that had welded to his older brother's bones, who would stand above a mass grave his brother had dug and would fall in it as his older brother had, though taking six more minutes and four more bullets to die, would be buried an arm's length of dirt above his brother and whose bones would find over time those of his older brother, and so, at that indeterminate point in the future, answer his mother's prayer that her boys find each other, wherever they go; that younger brother would have a smile on his face and the silliest thought in his skull a minute before the first bullet would break it, thinking of how that day six months earlier, when they all went to have his older brother's portrait made, he should have had his made, too, because now his parents would have to make another trip, and he hoped they would, hoped they would because even if he knew his older brother's nose, he hadn't been prepared to see it, and seeing that nose, there, on the page, the density of loss it engendered, the unbelievable ache of loving and not having surrounded him, strong enough to toss him, as his brother had, into the summer lake, but there was nothing but air, and he'd believed that plummet was as close as they would ever come again, and with the first gunshot one brother fell within arms' reach of the other, and with the fifth shot the blindfold dissolved and the light it blocked became forever, and on the kitchen wall of his parents' house his portrait hangs within arm's reach of his older brother's, and his mother spends whole afternoons staring at them, praying that they find each other, wherever they go.

Fear manifested itself as a physical presence that seemed to dominate the public sphere. Time almost stopped. Even without confirmation I could sense that something had gone terribly wrong.

He actually did it, didn't he?" Marsh said, shaking his head in wonder. "That bastard. There are two things I'll never forgive him for. The first is for stealing my dream of overthrowing the Final Empire, then actually succeeding at it."Vin paused. "And the second?"Marsh turned spike-heads towards her. "Getting himself killed to do it.

For him and his brother, he now knew, that music was real. Becuase all you had to do, really, was be willing to use your imagination. And listen.

Well, there is rough old Albert, as ornery as any big brother a girl could have, putting his arm around Savannah and cooing to her like a repenting hound dog, and promising her she is not common nor shameful. I watched all this and thought you just never know sometimes what's in a man's heart. When you think he is all tough nails and boards he can be different on the inside. It makes me wonder about other men I know, too.

Accomplish your tasks by one step at each time. Don't cut your coat according to your elder brother's size. Dream big, but start small; do what you can do at a time.

The unknown grayish mystifying forest was benumbed into frost-covered cold, and the tremendous pines towering above the dark marshy soil resembled a gathering of severe mute brothers from a forbidden ancient order worshiping forgotten gods no one had ever heard of outside of the world of secret occult visions.

If you see your brother in need, it doesn't matter if you already gave somewhere else. You should be open to the idea of God using you to meet your brother's unexpected need.

There’s something in my voice that brings him back to me, overrides his buzz. ‘Gaby’—all traces of playfulness have gone—‘if anything ever happens to me, you’ll be fine. You’re strong enough to look after yourself. I hate to admit it, but you don’t need me. Never did.’ A smile. ‘But listen, nothing is going to happen today. It’s all good.’‘Jude, we’re high enough up to get a nose bleed.’‘So come with me.’I blink. ‘Fuck off.’‘I mean it. We can do this together.’ He raises his eyebrows at the girl who checked his harness. She nods.I risk looking over the side. There’s a river far beneath us. So far down we can’t hear it. My entire body goes numb.‘You’ve got about thirty seconds and then I’m going on my own.’What a choice: watch my brother jump out of this car or put aside my own fear and go with him. Share the recklessness. Why didn’t we go to Paris? We’d be arguing over where to buy cheese right now.Adrenaline begins to burn through me. ‘Screw it.’Jude breaks into a wide smile. ‘Seriously?’I glance at the yawning space beneath us. ‘Hurry up before I change my mind.

I have lost you, my brotherAnd your death has ended The spring seasonOf my happiness, our house is buried with youAnd buried the laughter that you taught me.There are no thoughts of love nor of poemsIn my head Since you died.

Journeying over many seas & through many countries I came dear brother to this pitiful leave-taking The last gestures by your gravesideThe futility of words over your quiet ashes.Life cleft us from each other Pointlessly depriving brother of brotherAccept then, our parents' customThese offerings, this leave-takingEchoing forever, brother, through a brother's tears

He sneered at his father. “He’ll live. I’m going after her.”“What?” His sister stood up in front of her brother. “Fearghus, don’t. She’s angry. Very angry. She impaled your father . . . twice. Give her some time to calm down.

And of course, when you see your brother in the toilet bowl...there's a little voice that say, 'I wonder where he would go...'...if it hadn't been for his head...

Sorry.” I’m surprised and glad she doesn’t recognize it. I run my thumb back and forth over a crusty bit on the shoulder strap as a five-second version of the cake fight flashes behind my eyes like a movie stuck on quick search. Don’t cry over spilt frosting, Anna. “I just – I like this one.” “What for?” she asks. Just tell her. “It’s from the – it’s just the–” I bite my lower lip. Tell her. “Anna? What’s wrong?” Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just that it’s from the first time your brother kissed me and made me promise not to tell you. And I was in love with him forever, and he was supposed to tell you about it in California, and we were all going to live happily ever after. I still write him letters in the journal he gave me, which he doesn’t answer, since he’s dead and all. But other than that? Honestly, it’s nothing. “Anna?” She watches me with her sideways face again. “Huh? Oh, sorry. Nothing. I’m fine. I – I’ll get rid of it later.

Because Rhy didn’t need his protection, not anymore, and he’d only told a partial truth when he said they both needed this.The whole truth was, Rhy needed it more.Because Kell had given him a gift he did not want, could never repay.He’d always envied his brother ’s strength.And now, in a horrible way, it was his.He was immortal.And he hated it.And he hated that he hated it. Hated that he’d become the thing he never wanted to be, a burden to his brother, a source of pain and suffering, a prison. Hated that if he’d had a choice, he would have said no. Hated that he was grateful he hadn’t had a choice, because he wanted to live, even if he didn’t deserve to.But most of all, Rhy hated the way his living changed how Kell lived, the way his brother moved through life as if it were suddenly fragile. The black stone, and whatever lived inside it, and for a time in Kell, had changed his brother, woken something restless, something reckless. Rhy wanted to shout, to shake Kell and tell him not to shy away from danger on his account, but charge toward it, even if it meant getting hurt.Because Rhy deserved that pain.He could see his brother suffocating beneath the weight of it. Of him.And he hated it.And this gesture—this foolish, mad, dangerous gesture—was the best he could do.The most he could do.

Well, good afternoon, sunshine. How are you feeling?""Like something the cat dragged in, then dragged back outside to leave in the rain, and mud, then the lightning hit it, and burned it, and the cat came back to tear it into pieces, before burying it.

For your information, Lester, there are at least five wonderful parts of the female body that can be viewed by the owner only with a hand mirror.

For your information, Lester, there are at least five wonderful parts of the female body that can be viewed by the owner only with a hand mirror.'And as they stared after me, I went regally back down the hallway and up the stairs to Dad's room.

My brother trolled recovery and support groups, searching for women with dependency issues, the way I frequented bookstores with the hope of finding a well-adjusted, intelligent woman. Between us, his record was more stellar, his sin more reprehensible; though, knowing my brother, he slept soundly through the night without ever experiencing the slightest remorse.

Pride adversely affects all our relationships—our relationship with God and His servants, between husband and wife, parent and child, employer and employee, teacher and student, and all mankind. Our degree of pride determines how we treat our God and our brothers and sisters. Christ wants to lift us to where He is. Do we desire to do the same for others?

One final time I told myself I wasn't abducting my little brother.

I came because I've spent my whole life in the company of the brother that I hated. Now I want a chance to know the brother that I love, before it's too late, before we're not children anymore.

Daniel first kisses his brother in a town where no-one knows them, a no-account place that's barely even a town, just some buildings clustered around the highway: a smoky bar, an empty motel, a convenience store that only sells candy and condoms and beer. The nearest gas station is twenty miles away. The nearest bus station is fifty.

My sister is there with, probably, the most dangerous people on this city! You have a little sister?”“No.”“Then you don’t have any right to tell me what I suposse to sacrifice if it’s for my sister’s sake!”“Owen...”“She’s the only younger sibling I have. If something happens to her, I don’t see any reason why should I keep alive on this freaking Earth!

I must have cried myself out. The tears stopped falling and I breathed in through my nose. I stood up and looked down at my baby sister lying there. I kissed my fingertips and touched her forehead. "Goodbye, brat," I whispered. "Stop calling me brat."Caelyn's eyes opened. Her irises were blood red. She gave me an impish smile and bared her fangs. Little sisters suck...

You ball up your fist each time you hear about an unfound injustice in the world. That makes me your brother.

Chip, I know you don't understand this, but I'd take it as a personal favor if you'd stop trying to marry your mother off to my brothers.

When silence greeted her question, she looked at Caine—for that was how he saw himself in that moment and in all the moments after: his brother’s murderer.

Lorcan rubbed his head. “Am I asking too much to want the little bitch dead? Am I?” It seemed Hefaidd-Hen learned long ago not to answer certain questions. “All I want is for her to suffer a painful, horrifying death. And for her head to be on a spike in front of my castle. That’s all I want.

What are you doing?" my mom asked. One side of her mouth curled up."I'm trying to move that cup."My parents laughed. I concentrated on the coffee cup, but it didn't budge."I guess I'll have to work on this telekinesis thing. It'll come in handy when Ben is hogging the TV remote and forcing me to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for the fifty-millionth time.

Run, Torak! The bear...is...possessed...

Day had fucked up big time. This was all his fault, all because he couldn’t keep his nosy ass out of other peoples private business. Day rushed to God’s side.“I’ll help you ba—” Day didn’t know how, but God had found enough strength after that beating to push him so hard that he flew into the dresser, knocking it and all of the items that were on top of it to the floor, including the television. Day rolled a few feet, the dresser just missing falling on top of him.“Cash, what the fuck!” Day cursed.He rolled to his side and winced at the sharp pain in his ribs from coming into contact with the dresser.“I was trying to help you get into bed.”“Get the fuck out, Leo.” God’s face was an unyielding mask. For the first time in four long years, Day couldn’t read what the hell was going through God’s mind.Day stood slowly. “God, I only called him because I needed to go—”“It doesn’t matter why you did it! You had no right! You have no clue what you just did!” God yelled. “Now get out!”“Cashel, please. Just hear me out,” Day pleaded. His eyes begged for God to see the sincerity in them. He really didn’t mean for any of this to happen. “Baby, I swear. I didn’t know any of this was happening between you and your family. You should’ve told me. Why was he calling you a murderer?”No matter what, Day couldn’t turn off his detective side.Day watched God squeeze his eyes shut. He went down on one knee and clutched his chest when the hard coughing started again. God’s eyes were full of water and pain. Day timidly eased over to God’s side but God cut his eyes at him, daring him to come any closer.Day had to fight the moisture in his own eyes. “I just want to help you into bed.”“Day, if you don’t get the fuck out of my house, I’m going to show you why he called me a murderer,” God said through clenched teeth.Day couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped his lips, or the pain that radiated through his chest, as if his rib cage had been torn open and his heart ripped out and thrown underneath the bed. Day kept his eyes on God as he knelt to pick up the dresser, then the television. God watched him as well. Day didn’t say anything as the rogue tear fell down his face without his permission. Day went around to the opposite side of the bed and pulled a pen and piece of scrap paper from the drawer, still watching God carefully. He really didn’t like the look on his best friend’s face. He’d seen the look before, but he’d never had it leveled on him. Day scribbled a couple of phone numbers on the paper.

If Gerry were dying of thirst and spotted Alex two feet from a well, he still would not think he required his younger brother's help. It simply would never occur to him that Alex might be able to provide it.

Work smart, not hard

FRIENDOnly when you have walked with me through the valley of hardship...When you have fought beside me against an evil foe...When you have cried with me through a painful heartache...When you have laughed with me at life joyous moments...When you have held my hand in silent sorrow at my loss...When you have trusted me in spite of your doubts,,,When you have believed in me when I lacked confidence to believe in my self...When you have defended my honor against lying tongues...When you have prayed for me when I was temped to go wrong...When you have stood with me as others walked away...Then and only then can you call me friend. For then you truly know ME. Then you will have paid the price of sisterhood/brotherhood. Then you will have forged a bond that will transcend time and live beyond life. Then you will truly be called a FRIEND who sticks closer than a brother...© 2013 From the book Meditations From my Garden by Stella Payton

He felt like a brother of mine, but not at all like my actual brother. He seemed like someone I'd always know even if I never saw him again.

If you can’t fire your best friend or your brother, don’t hire them.

Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert thou not born in my father's dwelling?

Dear Matt, We finally made it to California, and it’s just like you told me. I feel you here with us – I think Frankie does, too.’ How dare you write about me in here! How dare you write to my brother! You think just because you fooled around a few times he cared about you? You think he wouldn’t have ditched you the second he found some new girl at Cornell? Get over yourself!

i miss my brother likethe sea would miss saltif that were taken away.

A brother,” she said, her voice soft.The baby started to cry, a weak, garbled sound that worried the nurse. Lada’s scowl deepened. She slapped a dimpled hand over his mouth. The nurse pulled him away quickly, and Lada looked up, face contorted in rage.“Mine!” she shouted.It was her first word.The nurse laughed, shocked, and lowered the baby once more. Lada glared at him until he stopped crying. Then, apparently satisfied, she toddled out of the room.

We couldn’t have done it without somebody else! We couldn’t have won this race or got the Fleece or saved Grover or anything! We owe our lives to Tyson, Percy’s…’‘Brother!’ I said, loud enough for everybody to hear. ‘Tyson, my baby brother.’Tyson blushed. The crowd cheered. Annabeth planted a kiss on my cheek.

Are you in love with him, Leonidis?”“Yes.” Again there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation, and even Day had to admit that he was shocked as shit at his confession.“You never mentioned that Cash was gay,” Jax said.“I know.”“Leo, what are you doing? Falling for a straight man, and your partner at that?” His brother tried to make eye contact with him.Day finally looked into his brother’s eyes, soft hazel ones that matched his own, and told him. “He loves me back. Straight, gay, bi, goddamn tranny…whatever he is. That man loves me too. He just hasn’t said it yet,” Day took another sip, “but he will.”Day was relieved his brother left that subject alone.

Don’t cluster too much plans to do within a relatively minimum time. As beginner, you must not cut your coat according to your elder brother’s size. Know your limit.

No greater love hath a man than he lay down his life for his brother. Not for millions, not for glory, not for fame. For one person, in the dark where no one will ever know or see.

I, um, I thought you might want this back.”I pull out the battered old teddy bear and hold it toward him. He frowns and shakes his head and doesn’t reach for it, and I feel like he’s punched me in the gut.Then my baby brother slaps that damned bear out of my hand and crushes his face against my chest, and beneath the odors of sweat and strong soap I can smell it, his smell, Sammy’s, my brother’s.

I catch sight of Luis with one of my bandannas on his head and my gut tightens. I yank it off him. "Don't ever touch this, Luis.""Why not?" he asks, his deep brown eyes all innocent.To Luis, it's a bandanna. To me, it's a symbol of what is and will never be. How the hell am I supposed to explain it to an eleven-year-old kid? He knows what I am. It's no secret the bandanna has the Latino Blood colors on it. Payback and revenge got me in and now there's no way out. But I'll die before I let one of my brothers get sucked in.I ball the bandanna in my fist. "Luis, don't touch my shit. Especially my Blood stuff.""I like red and black."That's the last thing I need to hear. "If I ever catch you wearin' it again, you'll be sportin' black and blue," I tell him. "Got it, little brother?"He shrugs. "Yeah. I got it.

I may not be my brothers keeper, but I am my brother's brother.

Awesome, Monk have a brother from the film Monk 2000, however... what makes you think that film and reality are different?

Can I sleep with you?" asked Oz. "Kinda scary in my room. Pretty sure I saw a troll in the corner." Lou said, "Get up here." Oz climbed next to her. Oz suddenly looked troubled. "When you get married, who am I going to come get in bed with when I'm scared, Lou?" "One day you're gonna get bigger than me, then I'm going to be running to you when I get scared." "How do you know that?" "Because that's the deal God makes between big sisters and their little brothers.

Anna, you miss him.” “All the time. I still can’t believe he’s gone.” The words come out in a whoosh, tasting funny in my mouth. No matter how many times I say them, they still feel like a garbled, impossible language. My chest hurts, and I have to hold my breath to keep from inhaling a deep sob. “He was more than your best friend.” I nod absently, forgetting myself for a moment, forgetting that I’m talking to Jayne and not my journal. “I – I mean, he was like a brother to me. You know, like Frankie. Well, she’s the sister. I mean–” Jayne reaches for my hands across the table, shaking her head softly. “Sweetheart, when you say Matt’s name, you have the same look in your eyes that he’d get whenever he’d say yours.

I can't think I had much of a sense of humor as long as I remained the only child. When my brother Edward came along we both became comics, making each other laugh.

I think I know what he is REALLY doing in there... and thinking about ME while doing it." (continuing) "But when he thinks of me, he thinks: sister! Think: Byblis! BYBLIS! I don't think of him as my brother, I think of him as CAUNUS!