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Quote by Flora Roberts

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Just A Step Away

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Flora Roberts

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“When I wake up on Sunday Mornings - late, you always let me sleep in - I come looking for you, and you're in the backyard with dirt on your knees and two little girls spinning around you in perfect orbit. And you put their hair in pigtails and you let them wear whatever madness they want, and Alice planted a fruit cocktail tree and Noomi ate a butterfly, and they look like me because they're round and golden, but they glow for you.”

“I fight to keep my fingers from trembling. I have a sudden urge to lick him. That’s not part of the plan. Maybe I can take a bit of a detour, taste what’s on display, even though I probably shouldn’t. Going against the plan is never advisable. But maybe just a little peck – it’s harmless, right? I lean in, and my lips connect with his skin. The reasonable part of my brain reminds me, Not a good idea. The other needy and somewhat desperate parts counter with, Oh god. Best. Idea. Ever.”

“If you wait until you find something to speak up for, something that you’re passionate about that concerns you and attacks your own beliefs, then eventually, when the day finally arrives, you might also find that you have forgotten how to speak.”

“A storm-filled life replete with piercing and unearthly sounds ravages the soul of any thoughtful person. In contrast, the genteel wind of restoration moves silently, invisibly. Renewal is a spiritual process, the communal melody that sustains us. Inexpressible braids of tenderness whispering reciprocating chords of love for family, friends, humankind, and nature plaits interweaved layers of blissful atmosphere, which copious heart song brings spiritual rejuvenation. For when we love in a charitable and bountiful manner without reservation, liberated from petty jealously, and free of the toxic blot of discrimination, we become the ineluctable wind that vivifies the lives of other people. The mellifluous changes in heaven, earth, and our journey through the travails of time, while worshiping the trove of fathomless joys of life, constitute the seeds of universal poetry.”