Could he actually be my muirn beatha dan?

He gave a hard smile and the oxygen in my lungs evaporated. “We both know I’m not a gentleman.” “Yeah. Okay, let me out. I’m tired.” “There’s something else,” he said, and I groaned. “What now?” “This.” He stepped closer to me, so close that the containers were sandwiched between us. His eyes looked down into mine, intent and golden, like a lion. “Oh, no, you don’t!” I hissed, dropping everything. I pushed hard against his chest; it was like shoving a tree. “Yes,” he said very softly, leaning down. “Yes, I do.

I'd once read somewhere that is takes about half as long to recover from a deep relationship as the relationship lasted.

What an amazing day," Bree said, stretching in her seat. "Thanks to me and my weather charm." I said lightly. Robbie and Hunter both looked at me in alarm. "You didn't," Said Robbie. "You didn't," Said Hunter. I was enjoying this. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." Hunter looked upset. "You can't be serious!" Cahn't, I thought. Cahn too.

Being good is something that one must choose over and over again, every day, throughout the day, for the rest of one's life," Asher said. "A day is made of a thousand decisions, most small, some huge. With each decision you have the chance to work toward light, or sink toward darkness.

What would it be like to care so little about what other people thought of you?

You're not honey. Your'e wine. You're the deepest, darkest shadow under a tree on a blazing day. You're strong and hard, coursing like a current at the bottom of a river.