Quotes On Independence Day

I opened my eyes to a sharp sting in my arm. Pushing up my sleeve, I froze. A dense line of jagged letters had been carved into the skin of my right forearm: [This house has monsters! Every time I'm killed, I'm thrown into a loop and lose all my memories. With each death, I mark my hand.] Beneath the warning, three crooked tally marks were etched deep into my arm.

My husband's first love, the woman he had once idolized, had left him for a powerful and influential school bully. Years later, she found herself in the midst of a bitter divorce and in need of a lawyer. And who else but my husband, now an accomplished attorney, ended up back in her orbit? As he moved toward her once more, I decided it was time to step aside. After all, there was no stopping someone determined to chase after a lost cause.

Soon after I came back to the country, someone slapped me right across the face in broad daylight, yelling that I was a mistress. A crowd of reporters closed in, pelting me with questions about whether Chandler Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong Industries, was keeping me as his mistress. I was stunned speechless for a moment, but then I pulled out my wedding photo with Chandler from seven years ago and held it up. "What are you talking about? I'm his wife!" The crowd went silent, and the woman who'd slapped me turned white as a sheet. Only then did I finally get it: while I'd been overseas, Chandler had been openly involved with an actress, and everyone in his social circle had already decided she was the future Mrs. Armstrong. Today, they all came expecting to confront a mistress—only to find out that I was actually his wife. Later, Chandler tried to justify it. "Alina, you've been out of the country for years. I'm a man, and I have needs. She's just a B-list actress; it's not like she threatens your position. Why should you be upset? Just let it go," he said. "Don't make a scene." I handed him the divorce papers. "You make me sick."

I died the night before my wedding to Christopher. But on the wedding day, a giant screen showed photos of me in bed with another man. In a fit of rage, Christopher smashed the screen and got engaged to my sister, Elizabeth. When my father informed him of my disappearance, Christopher sneered. “Disappeared? With the disgusting things she has done, she’s probably too ashamed to show her face!” My brother joined in with a scornful yell. “She hurt Liz, and now she has done such shameless things. I refuse to acknowledge such a wicked sister!” The shock and anger led to a fatal stroke, and my father died right there. Since then, I was despised by everyone in Cloud City. What they did not know was that it was the seemingly gentle Elizabeth who had brutally stabbed me to death and dumped my body in the river. Two months later, a fisherman found my body washed ashore.

On the day of my wedding to Elliot Wendell, a fake heiress committed suicide. In the second year of our marriage, we ended up enemies. He hated me, the true heiress, for returning and causing Celeste Dent’s death. I hated him for loving the woman who had taken my place as an heiress for twenty years. During the ten years of our marriage, we fought each other with vicious words and wished for the other to die. Then, there was an earthquake, and he shielded me beneath him. He protected me with his back. The building collapsed, and he ended up a mangled and bloody corpse. As he lay dying, he whispered into my ear, “If I had known that she would die, I would’ve never taken you home.” “If we ever meet again, it would be better if I were your only family.” In the end, I still died in the secondary quakes. When I opened my eyes again, I found that I had gone back in time. It was the day when he brought me to the Dent family to regain my rightful place among them. Elliot suddenly changed his mind and said, “Samantha, I was wrong. You’re not the daughter the Dent family lost twenty years ago.”

The end of the world was upon us, but there weren't enough spots for evacuation. The roars of the zombies echoed in my ears as my fiancé, Oliver, gritted his teeth and pulled me onto the rescue vehicle—securing the last available seat. I arrived safely at the survivor base. Lina, his first love, did not. The zombies tore her apart. Oliver still went through with our marriage, but I never expected that he had only done so to make me suffer. In his eyes, I was the one who had killed Lina. If she had to endure such agony, then I should, too. For five years, he hated me. My life was worse than that of a stray dog scavenging for food on the street. On the day my divorce was finalized, he kidnapped me, dragged me into the wilderness, and wrapped his fingers around my throat. Then, he threw us both into the swarm of the undead. When I opened my eyes again, I was somehow reborn on the day the apocalypse began. The rescue team was shouting impatiently, "One more! We have room for one more—hurry!" I turned to Oliver, watching his hesitation. Then, with a quiet smile, I took a step back and let someone else have the last seat.

Despite dreaming of attending university all my life, I ended up stuck in my farming village. I married my brother-in-law and became my nephew’s stepmother. This all happened because my sister died trying to make money for my tuition fees on the day my results came out. I thought I had failed to secure a place at university and stopped thinking about higher education out of guilt. I married my brother-in-law according to my sister’s wishes. To pay for my sins, I raised my nephew and treated him like my own son. I made money and tutored him so that he could get into Northside University. In the end, I developed late-stage cancer. Before dying, I attended my nephew’s celebration, but he publicly accused me of being a homewrecker while my husband agreed that I had seduced him. They brought out my sister, dead for eighteen years, and made me apologize to her. It was then that I found out she had faked her death and used my university admission letter to finish her study. She had become a university lecturer after tricking me into taking care of her family. Outraged, I had a cerebral hemorrhage. When I woke up, I found I had gone back to the day my sister faked her death.

After I bought my new home outright, my relatives organized a housewarming party to celebrate. During dinner, my nephew Leo suddenly said, “You’re just a spinster living alone in a huge apartment. What do you need all that space for? I happen to be getting married soon. That’s a huge deal. You should transfer the place to me. I’ll even cover the transfer fee.” I was stunned. “Are you out of your mind?” His mother Linda said, “How can you be so ungrateful? Him using your place for his newlywed life is doing you a favor. It’ll bring you good luck! Other people would jump at the chance!” The son and mother were united against me. “Anyway, tomorrow’s a great day. Grab the property deed and come with us to transfer ownership!” I rejected them without hesitation and called them crazy. Who knew they would get so furious that they would storm into my brand-new apartment and go on a rampage, smashing everything in sight. They even said smugly, “We need to show you our family doesn’t get pushed around! Go ahead and call the police! What proof do you even have that it was us?” What they did not know was that I had installed surveillance cameras on the day I moved in.

Everybody said my life was over after Brad Coleman called off his engagement with me. I had been with him for five years. The things I had done to pander to him had left my reputation in tatters. Nobody was willing to be with a woman like me anymore. After word started spreading within our social circle that Brad had gotten a new lover, everybody was waiting for me to go crawling back to him. However, what they did not know was that I had volunteered to take my younger sister's place and go to a faraway city, Clason City, to get married. Before I got married, I returned the treasure box that Brad had given to me. The coupon for a free wish that he had given me when he was younger was still in it. I left without leaving anything behind. However, one day after a long time, Brad suddenly thought of me. "It's been a while since I last heard from Leah Young. Is she dead?" he said. Meanwhile, I was awakened by kisses from my new husband. "Good girl, Leah. You promised me to go four rounds. We can't go any less…"

The day of the verdict, Simon—my fiancé—begged me to take the deal. "I know you're innocent, but Nancy's pregnant. I can't let her go to jail." Tears. Fake concern. "This is for your own good," he said, holding my hand. I signed it. In my last life, I refused—and paid for it with prison, torture, and infertility. This time? I played along. By morning, headlines screamed I'd stolen trade secrets. Nancy? Front and center. "Yeah, it was her. I saw her sneak into Johnston Group with my own eyes!" But when court opened that afternoon, Clark—yes, the plaintiff—stepped up and dropped the case. Then, in front of everyone, he pulled out a ring, dropped to one knee, and said, "Heidi Wynn, this time... will you marry me?"