To Be Great Is To Be Misunderstood Novels & Stories

He drew in a deep breath and raised his voice: “Because no one is that stupid. No one rushes forward when they know it's hopeless. No one insists on playing the hero when they know they’ll fail. “And you saw it yourself—why is it that you gave the most, endured the most, but in the end… so few remember you, so few thank you?” He paused, breathing heavily. “You think you’re brave. Fearless. But the truth is—you don’t understand. In this world full of people, everyone only looks out for themselves. “Faith? Belief? That’s not something everyone has. Most people just follow the crowd. They believe only what they want to believe.” ***

I need to make amends for my mistakes. I stumble over my words. “Gra-Grace I’m-I’m so-so-sorry that I mis-misunderstood you.” She lets out a painful chuckle. “No, Steve, keep your sorry to yourself. I don’t need it. Now I have understood that no matter what I do, you’ll never trust me. You’ll never forget the Grace I was before. You’ll always misunderstand me.” Her words sting, and for the first time, I’m left speechless.

she said gently. Amara didn’t deny it. She just smiled faintly. “Not about him, exactly,” she said. “About what I didn’t know.” Naya sat beside her, quiet for a long moment. Then she said, “Sometimes what hurts us most isn’t betrayal it’s misunderstanding.” Amara looked at her, unsure if she was ready to agree. “Maybe,” she whispered. “But what if misunderstanding looks exactly like betrayal? What if the pain feels the same?” Naya didn’t answer. She just reached over and squeezed her hand.

Injuries only serve to make us stronger. Forget everything people have told you so far. Forget all those feelings of defeat, those feelings that things could go wrong. You are a beautiful person, a person full of good things inside your heart and you deserve all of this to be valued. Only great people like you will be able to appreciate the incredible person you are.

I felt very bad that he was going through this and I couldn't help at all. "I see, that's very kind of you though. I think that you're a very kind person a lot of people just misunderstand you." He muttered and I sat up straighter. This wasn't going the way I expected. "Oh, really I didn't know that I was widely misunderstood." "Yes, you are. A lot of people still harbor resentment for you but you might not be aware of that. Anyway, I think it's only normal for certain people to think others undeserving of the love and attention that they receive. It's a national problem."

A deep look appeared on his face which I didn't want to pay much attention to because at some point they was beginning to get annoying and I just wanted to be out of this space without thinking about the consequences. "Look I don't want to be one of those people who brings desperation or evil at your doorstep but, if you think for a second that everybody is going to be happy with all the things that you have listed out? I think that you've just been deeply misunderstood. Nobody really cares about anything. All that they need is just to be able to focus they are attention on the things that make sense to them. I don't know if you're understand that." He responded. Well to some extent are kind

“But we really need to make sure people understand that none of it was scripted.” “Right,” I agreed, nodding. “But how do we convince them it isn’t scripted? We’ll have to be persuasive without sounding rehearsed.” “True,” She nodded, looking deep in thought. “Maybe we can play off the misunderstanding angle. Make it sound less like an accusation and more like a shared mistake.” “Yeah. That could work,” I said, impressed. “You always were good at coming up with ideas on the spot. It’s one of the things I admire about you.”

Now, it seemed the market wanted exactly what I had disregarded. “Does that mean I would allow these thoughts to be the reality of my problem?” I murmured silently to myself as I shoved the file aside, rising to my feet, “No! They don't understand. They are blinded by trends. Once they realize that classic brilliance is what matters. They'll come crawling back.” John's silence was heavy, almost accusing.

she said, that proud lilt in her voice, and mischief shining behind her smile. “Mom! How am I supposed to get better when you think everything I do is great? This looks bad, and even I can see it. I’ll never become a great artist,” I sighed, frustrated at my own mediocrity. She laughed, then took my hand and squeezed it gently. “No one gets perfect overnight. It takes practice. And even if it’s not ‘it,’ then it’s just the wrong thing for you. So do it all, mess up, and find the one right thing to shine at.”

“The truth hurts, Marissa. And, despite that fact, it doesn’t mean I should run from it when it’s staring me in the face. I still haven’t gotten over this fucked up mood of mine and I can’t seem to explain it either.” “It looks like you need a lot more help than I imagined and this also goes to say how pretty dumb most of us are when it comes to matters of the heart and it’s ironic seeing as you’re a really smart lady. I’m guessing the myth is true, you really can’t see when you’re messing things up for yourself until someone else points it out for you.” “Here you go again with the riddles, Marissa. How difficult is it to speak to me in terms that I can understand without having to think for