God Life Lessons Quotes Novels & Stories

Humanity exists in a gray area between good and evil, and inside this gray area are mysteries that cannot be revealed or comprehended. Humans don't know about the strange creatures that live in their world. To interact with other people and live normally, like a normal human. They're on a mission with humans. Reclaiming the souls of the dead can help protect people and keep the balance of nature. Their patience will be put to the limit by Elize, a cool undercover lady who causes them trouble. If Elize doesn't fear death, how can Lucian, her Guardian Angel, keep her safe? Dark, an Angel of Death, must figure out how to keep her from joining the long line of lost souls who have brought them nothing but misery through the millennia. Consider the consequences if Aza, the Angel of Mischief and one of the fallen angels, decides to step in. If Elize is intransigent and Aza interferes, neither or both of the Guardians will be able to complete their mission.

My boyfriend was a therapist. On the day I got diagnosed with ALS, he was busy celebrating his friend's birthday. He said, "Sophie's got depression. Without me, she could break down, hurt herself, or do worse things." To look after her, he broke up with me and moved into her place. I blocked him on everything, agreeing we'd go our separate ways. Strangely, he lost his nuts when he found out I was dying.

An unscrupulous company discharges toxic wastewater into the river, causing my whole family to be poisoned because we rely on that river for survival. Everyone in my family, including my aunts and uncles, lives in the same village. We're all waiting for an urgent antidote delivery to save our lives. My boyfriend is Harrison Somers, and his company is the only one with the antidote. So, I ask him for it. He agrees to come but doesn't show up after a long time. Ultimately, my family members die after being tormented by the toxic wastewater because they don't have the antidote. Meanwhile, Harrison shows up at the hospital with his childhood sweetheart because she accidentally sliced her finger while peeling a fruit.

To ransom my husband from the black market, I threw myself into relentless work, earning every penny I could. My son suffered alongside me, sharing in my exhaustion and deprivation. Years of malnutrition had left him vulnerable, and eventually, he was diagnosed with leukemia. I wept as I scraped together money from relatives and friends to pay for his chemotherapy. But on the way to the hospital, a sudden, unbearable pain wracked him. In his struggle, he accidentally bit off his own tongue and died in agony before we even reached the doors. I clutched my son's ashes and went straight to the black market, determined to use the borrowed money to bring my husband back. The moment I stepped in, I overheard a conversation between Joe Masseria and his men. "Boss, Sandra comes every month with her payments. She's suffered a lot just to ransom you," one said. At that moment, a widow—Joe's sister-in-law, long mourning her late husband—appeared beside him. "Joe," she said, her voice calm but cutting, "all these years, you've protected me from harm, even giving me the title of a mob boss's wife. But you've kept Sandra in the dark the whole time. Isn't that… terribly unfair to her?" Joe's eyes were cold, devoid of any pity for me. He scoffed. "Fairness is ruthless. She's had all this love from me. What's a little suffering compared to that? "But she's waited for me all these years. It's time I returned—before she loses her mind and comes after you. "If she's still sensible, I'll make sure her and her son's quality of life improves a bit." I understood everything in that instant. Holding my son's ashes to my chest, I wept until it felt as if my heart would shatter. Joe—your so-called fairness killed my son. And I am done waiting for you.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

From a campus romance to marriage, Dominic Fleming had always believed he led a perfect life. His wife, Isabella Sinclair, was dazzlingly beautiful. Their daughter, Lilith, was sweet and obedient. Dominic sometimes told himself he must have been a saint in a past life to deserve such happiness. Everything began to change the moment Isabella's so-called "sworn brother," Alexander Grant, entered their lives. Alex's name appeared more and more often, and it crept into every corner of their marriage. For Lilith's sake, Dominic endured the strain again and again until the day of the accident. As he lay on the operating table with his life hanging by a thread, Isabella was not at his side—she was with Alexander instead. That was the moment Dominic's heart finally turned cold. So why did Isabella regret it? She knelt with Alexander, who likewise barely clung to life, and wept as she begged Dominic for forgiveness. "Dom, I know I was wrong. Let's get married again. I will make him kneel and beg you for forgiveness," Isabella said. "Scram," Dominic replied. Isabella nodded eagerly. "Fine. I will throw him out right now!" "Get the fuck out too!" Dominic barked.

Evan Moore is the perfect husband in everyone's eyes. He gives me a grand wedding and fully supports my career dreams. When I faced a difficult labor, he stayed by my side, kneeling for a full day and night until he nearly passed out from exhaustion. Afterward, he held me in his arms, sobbing until his eyes were red and swollen, his voice trembling with fear. "Honey, let’s not have any more kids… It's just too much." From then on, he spends his days and nights at the monastery, praying devoutly for me and our son, earning the title of the city’s most pious CEO. But one day, by pure chance, I glimpse the handwritten scriptures he keeps so carefully copied. And that's when I realize every word, every stroke, is a confession of his undying love… for his first love. All his tenderness, all his care—it was never truly for me. It was learned for her. I was nothing more than practice—a stand-in for his so-called true love.

There's an earthquake. I'm trapped underneath the debris with another young woman. "This woman's chest has been pierced by a steel bar. We have to save her immediately." The rescuers start to approach me when my husband, Quintus Ford, suddenly darts in the other direction. "She's pregnant! Save her first!" I look at him to see him staring at the other young woman in panic. He doesn't know I'm pregnant, too. The doctor who's trying to stop my bleeding shouts, "I can't stop her bleeding! I suspect she has a blood clotting disorder!" I force myself to nod and look at Quintus desperately. However, he says, "I'm her husband. I'll bear the responsibility if anything goes wrong."

On New Year's Eve, the smell of a roast in the oven drifted through the house. My grandmother walked over to me, with an old photograph in her hand, the edges worn soft with age. "Is Zack almost home?" My throat tightened. It had been three years. She could never remember that my younger brother was long gone. I was the one who picked up his ashes. At that moment, my phone rang. The moment I saw the name on the screen, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. I stepped out onto the balcony before answering, keeping my voice low. "What is it?" The voice on the other end of the line trembled. "It's been three years. Are you still angry? I've been waiting for you to come home. Our son has, too. We're downstairs." Downstairs? I walked over and looked down to see a tall figure and a small one standing together. Through my phone, my son's voice came with a catch in his throat, saying, "Daddy…" My thoughts snapped back into place. I said flatly, "We've been divorced for a long time. He said he didn't want to stay with me." Then, I hung up without another word.

After an earthquake, my sister and I help to rescue the victims. I save a wealthy woman who adopts me as her daughter. I become the sole heiress to an astronomical fortune. My sister saves a regular person. All she gets as thanks is a few thousand dollars. She thinks life is unfair and drags me to die with her. When I open my eyes again, I'm looking at the debris from the earthquake. This time, my sister rushes to save the wealthy woman. She says smugly, "It's my turn to be a rich heiress!"