The Notebook What Do You Want Quote นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Not the kind you bled for and never got to enjoy. The kind where you could sit by a lake for an afternoon and not feel guilty. And—under that—curiosity. About what came next, now that I’d survived the main plot. Did I want to learn more magic? Travel to meet other packs? Go back to hospital halls as a visiting storm instead of a resident ghost? Maybe all of it. Eventually. For now, I picked up the notebook again and wrote a small list in the margin: Things I Want Just Because: – Swim in the ocean someday.

maybe there was something. My mind raced back to my childhood. To the night he shot that man. The dog. The words he said. Kill or be killed. Was that it? "Kill or be killed," I said aloud. Nothing happened. "Incorrect password," the voice responded. "Two attempts remaining." I clenched my fists, jaw tight. Think, damn it. Think. Vargo remained silent beside me, watching nervously. I was already moving through more possibilities; our my sister's name? Or perhaps our mother?

Well actually it says dick head. Sighing, I swipe up to answer. “What do you want from me?” “I just want you to give me the chance to explain everything. Will you please hear me out?” “Fine. I am about to head out to get something to eat. Meet me at Olive Garden in 30 minutes.” “Ok. Done. See you then.”

Vincent said softly from the chair beside me, breaking my focus. He leaned over, tapping the edge of my tablet with his pen. "Relax. Take a deep breath.” "I just want this over with, Vincent," I whispered back, adjusting the collar of my blazer with trembling fingers. "The atmosphere in this place is completely suffocating. It feels like the walls are watching us."

I repeated myself softly, but loud enough for the entire hall to hear, "Take off the watch." Her expression changed at once. Panic flickered in her eyes—an intensity I had never seen before. "What do you mean? You know what this watch means to me," she said. "I know." I released her hand and took out a document I had prepared long before today. "And because I know, I want a divorce." She stared at me, stunned, then looked at the document labeled "Divorce Agreement". Her body trembled. "Jayden, say that again." "I said I want a divorce. All because of that watch."

Here with Vincent and my children. I have finally gotten What I Want! ‐-----------

“What do you want to know about it and can I get some water. My mouth tastes like I ate a mouthful of used cat litter.” “Of course,” he says, standing and going over to knock on the door. The door cracks open slightly and he speaks with someone in a hushed voice. The door closes and Lyles returns to the chair. “While we wait on that water, let’s begin. What made you start writing the notebook?” “Was trying to get a fresh perspective on my studies. A little role play and all that,” I lie. “Roleplay?” he repeats and it’s obvious he doesn’t believe me.

Serena's POV Saturday morning. The Brooklyn apartment. The radiator making its argument. The view of the other building. The cafe on the corner preparing for the weekend rush. I was at the small table by the window with my coffee and my notebook. Not a strategy notebook. Not the kind I had kept for years. Lists of positions and leverage points and coordination strategies. This notebook was different. I had started it three weeks ago. At my friend's suggestion. She had said: *Write down what you actually want. Not what you've calculated. What you actually want.*

“He can’t say directly, but he won’t stop you either. It’s up to you, Miss Toth. I’m sorry—this is how I’m programmed.” Her apology sounded almost human. I wanted answers more than anything, but the notebook sat between us like a door I could open or keep closed. I set the pen to paper and began to write—questions, fear, the small, raw memories of Zebasthian—letting the ink hold what my voice could not. While Lyra sat quietly beside me, I read and wrote down what I could from the notes in that old book.

My words made her smile. “I’m old, but yeah. I still know how to use gadgets. But I want you to have this.” She offered it to me. “I can’t take that.” I pushed it back. “There’s nothing in here, dear. And you don’t have to write down Romare’s schedule. I want you to have this.” “Why?” I asked out of curiosity. “I feel like you will stay longer, and you can write down anything you want in this notebook.” “Thank you.” I hesitantly took it from her. “Any advice?”