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Quote by Gavin Williams

“The worst blows don’t come from what you fear— They come from what you didn’t even know was there.”

Quote by Gavin Williams

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Gavin Williams

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“The Mountain Top If I knew, there would be no sun in the sky no more tears left to cry with the many things that you do Dear God, I’d still have you. Looking back at the journey of life it’s now forever in the past out to reach the mountain top with your Love that always last. Understanding the faith in you it’s allowing the faith in me that mountain top isn’t much to bear with my heart that feels so free.”

“She turned her face up to his. She could have raised herself up on her toes and kissed his mouth. Instead she caught his gaze with her own. Their eyes held each other's, as their bodies could not, and together they began to dance. There on the balcony, under the stars, with the rooftops of London the only witnesses. And though Lucie could not touch him, Jesse's presence warmed her, surrounded her, calmed her. She felt a pressure in her throat: Why had no one ever told her how close happiness was to tears?”

“I love you,' he said. And if I hadn't already believed him, felt it in my very bones, the light in his face as he said the words... Tears burned my eyes again, slipping free before I could control myself. Rhys leaned in to lick them away. One after another. As he'd once done Under the Mountain. 'You have a choice,' he murmured against my cheekbone. 'Either I lick every inch of you clean...' His hand grazed the tip of my breast, circling lazily. As if we had days and days to do this. 'Or you can get into the bath that should be ready by now.' I pulled away, lifting a brow. 'Are you suggesting that I smell?' Rhys smirked, and I could have sworn my core pounded in answer. 'Never. But...' His eyes darkened, the desire and amusement fading as he took in my clothes. 'There is blood on you. Yours and others'. I thought I'd be a good mate and offer you a bath before I ravish you wholly.”

“Approaching the Cenotaph again, we stop so a group of school-children can stand for an unobstructed photo by the shallow memorial pool. Each holds a paper crane in their hands, and they all look so proud. It reminds me of the class photograph from 1945. The children in today’s class also look no older than five or six, and their smiles beam just as bright. And hearing their laughter as the teacher tries to get them to settle long enough to take the photo, I recall something Mom said years after she returned from Angola: ‘No matter what language you speak or what nationality you are, tears and laughter always sound the same.”