Quotes When Enough Is Enough Novels & Stories

But today, on the morning after the flowers closed and the answer was yes, I want to say something different. I want to say: *You were enough.* Not: you were going to become enough. Not: you would find out what you were worth. *You were enough.* Standing at that altar in a plum dress with your legs shaking and your spine straight, you were enough. You were the Warden of a city you had not yet found. You were the living centre of a chord that had not yet sounded. You were the person who would say yes four times on a warm stone beside a tall flowering plant in a garden above a river city — and you were that person already, that morning, before any of it had happened.

He crossed his arms while narrowing his eyes at me. Time passed while playing, laughing and revealing a few things about each other which made me late for the office. Just thinking about it gives me a weird feeling. •••••••••••••• 'Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see'. ~Mark Twain. I used this quote in my poem. H.LOCKHART.

Getting it, he began to flip the pages of the big book that could be mistaken for an encyclopedia. His eyes stumbled on a quote by Martin Luther King Jr. It said: "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." He raised his eyes from the quote, and his brain began to process the words, mechanically. Then a question popped up: What am I silent about? Anderson quickly hopped down from his bed. He took a jotter and began to scribble, quickly. Done, he skedaddled his eyes through what he'd written. He checked the calendar on his phone; two weeks till next month.

“You don’t have to be perfect with me.” “Yeah, but what if that’s all I know how to be?” Silence again. The kind that hums under your skin. I reached out, fingers brushing his wrist. He didn’t pull away. “Then maybe it’s time you learn something else,” I said. He looked up at me, eyes tired but soft. “Like what?” “Like being enough.” He blinked, like the words hit him somewhere deep. Then he leaned forward until his forehead rested against mine. “You make it sound so easy,” he whispered.

“I ate two slices of pizza and feel sick. That’s not something to be proud of.” “Emerson Fucking Fitzgerald. You got out of bed, had a shower and ate something after 4 days of nothing. YOU DIDN’T GIVE UP, YOU’RE STILL HERE FIGHTING. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. That is something to be fucking proud of don’t doubt it ok.” A whispered “ok” comes back toward me. We continue and she has one more before saying that’s enough. That’s everything. That’s more than I could ever want from today.

He uttered as he glimpsed at me. "Isn't it too late for that? We're married already." "I disagree. Haven't you heard the quote by Mitch Albom? There is no such thing as too late in life." "Oh, I just heard it now." I was amazed. I didn't expect that a man like him would believe in quotes. "Now, you know." He grinned. Then, we became silent again. After a while, I took the courage to bring up the incident earlier. I turned to him as I wanted to see his reaction. "Alfred, about the trouble earlier."

In fact, I too think in the same way, until I turned my gift into my greatest strength. It was Theodore who motivated me by reading the famous words of Albert Einstein, ‘Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it is stupid.’ "Now, tell me who you are and why you are here." Does the Queen send you to kill me?" I asked, tightening my grip on his neck.

She talked about Alexander, the way he had manipulated her, used her, discarded her when she was no longer useful. "I thought if I could make him love me, I would finally be enough," she said. "But I was never enough. Not for him. Not for anyone." "You don't have to be enough for anyone but yourself." "That's easy for you to say." "It's not easy." Isabella's voice was gentle. "It's the hardest thing in the world. But it's worth it." Genevieve was silent for a long moment. Then she said, "How do you do it?"

"That's not it. I'm here because I love you. I told him those things because I love you. I don't want to hurt you anymore. "Matthew, I love you. I'm in love with you..." Words of love always sounded beautiful. If this were before, I might have forgiven her again. But this was the 100th, and I had no forgiveness left. Even if she meant it, so what? I gave her a hundred chances. "I don't want your love anymore, Tiffany. Just because you love me doesn't mean I owe you anything in return," I said. At that, Tiffany's tears finally fell. She gave me many firsts that day—her first time looking disheveled, her first time crying. But none of it moved me.

"I don't want you to go." "I know, baby. But I'm tired. So tired. And I'm ready. I've lived eighty-one years. I've helped thousands of people. I've loved and been loved. That's enough. More than enough. I'm full. Now it's your turn to fill up. Your turn to pour out. Your turn to choose."