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Quote by S.C. Stephens

Work

Thoughtless

This book delves into the complexities of human behavior, focusing on the character's thoughtless actions and their repercussions in their social and romantic life. more

Author

S.C. Stephens
S.C. Stephens

S.C. Stephens is a contemporary author known for her young adult and romance novels. Her exact birth and death dates are unknown. more

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“During the inevitable times when you feel like your work has no meaning, find meaning at home. If you need something more to feel creative or need extra cash, then moonlight: start dream projects after work hours. At some point in time, a successful side project can become your main project and you’ll be fortunate enough to make your work and your dreams become one. || You should always have meaning outside the workplace. Work to support your lifestyle — don’t live to support your work.”

“MESSAGE + MISSION = MOVEMENT Its not that you want to be on TV or the radio or in a magazine. If no one watched or listened or read, you wouldn't care about those mediums. What you want is an audience. You want to be seen and heard. You have a message to share. That said, the world has giving you your own TV channel (YouTube and any other video platform). The world has given you a radio station and even hosts (podcasts). The world has given you your own magazine and newspaper (websites, blogs, etc). YOU ARE SEEN AND HEARD. YOU ARE ALREADY STANDING ON THE STAGE. NOW WHAT? We are watching and listening.”

“BELONG God interrupts me now to say: My darling child, if you keep looking for a home within the arms of another, you will lose your home again and again. The same can be said of an actual home, by the way. Because everything that is given to you will eventually be taken back. That is the law, my dear. Nothing is here for you to keep. Even the ground beneath your feet can disappear. And so can your feet. God puts her hand now upon my trembling chest and says: You, my little one, have always shown a particular stubbornness. You demand permanence from things that cannot be made permanent, and perfection from people who are inherently flawed. This is typical of the anxious and the traumatized, but the impulse (like all doomed impulses) has never brought you the slightest bit of comfort or ease. That being the case, I wonder why you defend it so? God stops me fully in my path now and says: Child, you keep demanding impossible promises from those who cannot even take care of themselves. But what joy have you ever derived from being so dependent and unassured, so needy, lost, and afraid? You keep saying you want to count on somebody- but I say stop counting. You keep telling me you crave security because the world frightens you. But the world, my love, is what you are. Why not be secure in that? How could you ever lose anything, when you yourself are made of The Everything? You yourself, the bright and flickering moment of first creation. You yourself, the miraculous happening. You yourself, the very lifeblood of my being. God stops me once more to ask: Why do you keep disagreeing with me? Why do you keep up the fighting and begging? Why not befriend the great way of things, my little one? Why not accept the changing nature of nature itself? Why keep arguing against the comings an the goings, the births and the deaths, the gains and the losses? Why seek stability, when you are my song? Why not surrender? Why not belong?”

“Something magical starts to happen when we commit to doing what we love to do. When we reconnect with what brings us joy—those activities that we love to do for no reason other than that they make us happy—we not only have a higher chance of getting into flow, we also start remembering who we really are and what really matters. It’s as if we reawaken an inner flow energy—the True Self—and everything starts to make sense again.”

“Her black eyes turned to Tyrion, hard as stone. “Kinslayer, kingslayer, murderer, turncloak. Lannister.” She made the last a curse. “What do you plan to offer the dragon queen, little man?” My hate, Tyrion wanted to say. Instead he spread his hands as far as the fetters would allow. “Whatever she would have of me. Sage counsel, savage wit, a bit of tumbling. My cock, if she desires it. My tongue, if she does not. I will lead her armies or rub her feet, as she desires. And the only reward I ask is I might be allowed to rape and kill my sister.” That brought the smile back to the old woman’s face.”