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Quote by De philosopher DJ Kyos

“I've noticed that many women tend to become increasingly harsh and meaner as they grow older, often due to misplaced anger stemming from unmet desires, goals, dreams, or things not going their way.”

Quote by De philosopher DJ Kyos

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De philosopher DJ Kyos

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“If you were not so gentle, If you were hard to please, If you were never patient And always ill at ease, If you were far from humble, If you could not forgive, If all you did was grumble And curse the life you live, If you were irreligious, If you were not composed, If you were quite ignoble, If you had not proposed, If you were daft as killdeer, If you were less than kind, If you were proud and pushy, I’d pay you little mind. And never would I ever Call you Valentine. But you are kind and gentle, So patiently at ease. You’re gracious, sweet, and humble. Not ever hard to please. You evince faith and service; They dictate how you live. Good will along with mercy Allow you to forgive. Despite the trials and heartaches, You count your blessings all. Despite the miles between us, Persistently you call. The gestures of affection. The compliments so kind. The selfless acts of service Endear you in my mind. And that, my dear, is why I Call you Valentine.”

“... While much recent historicist criticism has assumed early nineteenth-century readers attuned to subtle ideological nuances in poetry, actual responses from readers often come closer to clulessness. ... It is no surprise that no one understood Blake, but other poets fared not much better. ... Coleridge's 'Christabel' was 'the standing enigma which puzzles the curiosity of literary circles. What is it all about?', while another reviewer asked about Shelley, 'What, in the name of wonder on one side, and of common sense on the other, is the meaning of this metaphysical rhapsody about the unbinding of Prometheus?'. Even Keats was condemned for 'his frequent obscurity and confusion of language' and his 'unintelligible quaintness'. Byron, never to be outdone, boasted in 'Don Juan' that not only did he not understand many of his fellow poets, he did not understand himself either: 'I don't pretend that I quite understand / My own meaning when I would be very fine.' ...”

“What are you doing here?" He shoved one hand in his pocket. "I need a wife." "And you came here..." She searched for an explanation for his outlandish statement. "Because you thought a company that sells feminine care products might also have a supply of women available for marriage? I can go to the stock room if you want and see what we have on the shelf. Are you looking for a blonde or a brunette? I guess it doesn't matter whether she likes you or not." "It's not just for me," Liam explained, pulling his hand out of his pocket. "I need a wife to preserve my family legacy." "So you want to breed her? Good to know. That takes Margie and Joan out of the running. They're both in their sixties." He dropped to one knee and held out a blue velvet box. "I want you. Marry me, Daisy." Of all the things she'd expected him to say, "Marry me," did not even make the top thousand. For a long moment, all she could do was stand and stare. "I think you have me confused with someone who would even want to be in the same room as you, much less wed you after such a romantic proposal.”

“For one, Darcy had started out with great contempt for Lizzy and the expectation of an arranged marriage to someone else. Secondly, but of greater importance than those mindful lessons learned from entirely plausible fiction, she was armed with the truth that she had the Lord on her side. She must brave on and hope for the best in spite of how things appeared.”