Donʹt worry now about what you canʹt change. Rest when you can so youʹll be ready for tomorrowʹs battles

When I talked to him earlier, he said he had to work tonight,” Peter explained, “but that we should go ahead and draw for him.” “Draw?” I asked uneasily. “Oh Lord. Tell me it’s not Pictionary night too.” Peter sighed wearily. “Draw for secret Santas. Do you even read the e-mails I send?” “Secret Santas? Seems like we just did that,” I said. “Yeah, a year ago,” said Peter. “Just like we do very Christmas.

Weirdly, an image of Adrian’s Love painting came back to me. I thought of the jagged red streak, slashing through the blackness, ripping it apart. Staring at Jill and her inconsolable pain, I suddenly understood his art a little bit better.

I looked at you... and saw your goodness, your hope, and your faith. Those are what make you beautiful. So, so beautiful. So it was't my hair?

We had just paid the check when Dimitri's cell phone rang. "Hello?" he answered. And like that, his face transformed. That fierceness I so associated with him softened, and he practically glowed. "No, no. It's always a good time for you to call, Roza." Whatever the response on the other end was, it made him smile.

I'll just love you whether you want me to or not.

A gun I had been brought down by a gun. It was practically comical. Cheaters, I thought. I’d spent my life focusing on hand to hand combat, learning to dodge fangs and powerful hands that could snap my neck. A gun? It was so… well, easy. Should I be insulted? I didn’t know. Did it matter? I didn’t know that either. All I knew in that moment was that I was going to die, regardless.