Yourself Quotes

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

"After seeing all this, will you still be able to love me? You surely are not. That's why I was telling you to change your decision otherwise you won't have to see all this." With his one finger, he wiped her tears. His eyes were fixed on her horrified turn yellow pale face. "My love which has been in my heart for years can't be ended in a moment on seeing all this. And my decision will not change till my last breath." In weeping, she went on sitting on the floor. She was on the trajectory of that love where there was no going back. "If this is your final decision then fine. After that nikkah (marriage agreement) don't keep any kind of expectation from me." On her stubbornness, he controlled his rage and said in defeated voice. "If you get tired from fulfilling this one-sided relationship then remember I'm always willing to let you go back. You can free yourself from this relationship." After done with his saying, he turned back abruptly. While Hadia hide her face in her hands and started crying profoundly at what he said to her. Will Wadan accept and fell in love to Hadia who he raised since her childhood? Or Hadia will have to forget him and give up on her love just because he doesn't her worthy to love?

The champagne was flat, much like the expression on Julian’s face. "It’s not that I don’t love you, Elara," he said, adjusting his $5,000 suit jacket. "It’s just that you’ve become... predictable. I need a woman who challenges the world, not someone who waits for me to come home and tell her what color the sky is." Elara felt the sting of the words more than the cold wind on the balcony. For six years, she had been Julian’s shadow. She had curated his life, managed his moods, and dimmed her own light so he could shine brighter. And now, on the night of his company’s gala, he was discarding her like an outdated software update. "Predictable?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Go home, Elara. I’ve already had your things moved to the guest house. We can talk about a settlement in the morning." She didn't wait for the morning. She didn't wait for the "settlement." She walked out into the rain, her silk dress clinging to her skin like a second, cold layer of grief. It wasn't until three days later, sitting in a dingy motel with nothing but a suitcase and a bruised soul, that the notification popped up on her phone. ARE YOU READY TO LIVE FOR YOURSELF? ENTER THE SURVIVAL GAME. WIN YOUR FREEDOM. Elara stared at the golden icon on the screen. It felt like a trap. Or maybe, it was the only way out.

My mom is 71 years old. Thanks to her arthritis acting up, she's in so much pain that she can't descend the stairs at all. She tentatively calls me and asks if she can rent an apartment that comes with an elevator of its own. But my wife, Lucy Glaser, brings out the household ledger and points at the red numbers on the pages. "Last month, you bought yourself a tie, which is 300 dollars beyond our monthly budget. Yet now you're planning on adding another impulsive expense?" Only then do I realize that I don't even have the freedom to buy myself a tie despite earning an annual salary of tens of millions of dollars. My mom is still trying to explain herself in a humble tone over the phone. "Oh, please don't feel troubled about it, Caleb. I was just asking on a whim. I've already grown used to my old home anyway…" After I end the call, I feel rather stuffy in my chest. What's there for me to feel troubled about? After all, I'm a partner of a top-tier law firm who earns tens of millions of dollars every year. The one who keeps standing in my way is Lucy, who's only a mid-level lawyer yet insists on controlling my finances. She also calls herself the best candidate for the household asset allocation.

I spent five years pursuing Derick Tucker before we finally set a wedding date. But in the 100 days leading up to it, he was off partying all over the place, barely showing his face. The night before the wedding, he said he was going to a bachelor party and never came home. Instead, I got a message from a girl he knew from college. It was a photo of them in bed together. [Sorry. He went a little too hard last night. Don't expect much from him on your wedding night. [Oh, wait, I forgot. He doesn't even love you. Who knows if he'll even be able to perform? Looks like you can't even settle for my leftovers.] I held up the message and confronted Derick. He didn't even flinch. "She's not wrong. I'm not married until tomorrow. What's the problem with having some fun before that? "You're used goods yourself, and you expect me to stay pure for you? "If you can't handle it, then don't marry me. But can you really walk away?" After humiliating me, he stormed off, convinced I would swallow it like I always did. But this time, I was done. I picked up my phone. "What you said before, about taking responsibility. Does that still stand?"

"You'll never be my mate. You'll never be my Queen," he snarled, slamming into me like he hated how much he needed me. I moaned, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist. "Then why do you lose control every time you're inside me?" He growled, his pace growing rougher, desperate. I smiled. "Keep lying to yourself, Xander." "I hate you, I hate you so much," ****** Raven is the most hated wolf in her pack for a crime her family committed against the Royal Family. She was hated, bullied and insulted at every turn, and as if things couldn't get twisted, fate decided to play a game on her, the one man who her family betrayed turns out to be her fated mate. The ruthless Alpha king Xander. The very man who despises her existence. She tried to reject him but he refused her rejection, promising to make her life a living hell. But things are not as they seem. There are secrets that need to be unraveled, a dangerous pull they cannot ignore, a bond they cannot sever. And as their worlds collide, Raven begins to uncover dark secrets buried deep within their pasts. Betrayal. Lies. Forces that threaten not only their bond but everything they’ve ever known. And what happened when the line between hate and passion blurs? Will Xander and Raven look past their family hatred and join as one to fight their enemies or will their hatred consume them both?

I felt his lips brush against my earlobe, a soft brush that suddenly made my toes curl. His breath lingered on my neck before he finally whispered, "I own you Crystal. The sooner you get to accept that the better for you. I'll make sure you submit yourself to me, be it the hard way or the easy way. And I'll break this ego of yours. I promise you" * * * * * * He was her beast and she was his beauty. He was addicted and she was his favourite drug. He was a sinner and she was his sin. In the blink of an eye, Crystal sees her entire life crumble with the death of her parents and she is forced to take a job that she would never have thought off to make ends meet for her and her sister and pay of her gambling father's debt to a crime boss-- being a stripper. Just a glance on the doe-eyed caramel skin beauty swinging her hips seductively on the pole and Leonardo already knew he had to have her as his. He had to claim her for himself. But he was everything she hated. She despised him and loathed his existence for the pain and anguish he had caused her and her sister. She swore never to succumb to him but what she didn't know was that he was also determined to show her that he would earn a place in her heart and life.

How would you define your worth? My name is Cassey Timmerhaus, a seventeen year- old noble daughter, whose goal is to find my worth and guarantee my own happiness. In worth comes opportunities, in opportunities comes wealth, in wealth comes love, in love comes happiness, and in happiness, I can die blissfully. But the path to self- realization was harder than I presumed. The unfathomable range of emotions, the twisted justice to prove yourself righteous, the betrayals, the sinful encounters and the fight for the honorable seat, are things I never expected but had to experience. "To honor your family is the noblest thing. How could you fail in such a task as easy as breathing?" I faced countless humiliation and disgrace; degraded by the people I call family. "I am sorry, but how could we dare tarnish a lady's hand by making her work for us, mere commoners? Surely she wasn't casted away to be like this. For a noble like her, it would be better to starve than sweat her palms." The rejections from those who once respected me ruined my valued trust. She once said that in this endless pit of woes, thy love shall save me. But, I doubt that. Even if I have love, will I be able to make it last? Will I be able to make him stay? Will I ever be worth of such fortune, when I am just a grass?

Don’t trust anyone, not even yourself….You think you know someone pretty well, until you’re awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of unfamiliar voices and realize your sister’s being swept away by some supernatural creatures who climb in and out of windows and leap from two-story houses like it’s nothing.My parents tried to tell me everything was fine, but when Cadence finally did come back from wherever they’d taken her, I knew there was something unusual about my older sister.Now, her best friend is dead.Her ex-boyfriend is acting bizarre.And I’m afraid I might be next.My name is Cassidy Findley, and I’m pretty sure my sister is a vampire, despite her “co-worker” making every effort to brainwash me into believing otherwise. With the help of my two best friends, we vow to get to the bottom of this before it’s too late, and my sister starts to claim other victims. I love her, but I won’t be turned, nor will I just sit by without doing everything I can to stop her. I can only hope that I’m not too late and that I can trust my own memories.Because I’m pretty sure my sister’s friends are coming for me next.The Chronicles of Cassidy is a retelling of The Clandestine Saga specifically for young adult/teen readers told from the perspective of high schooler Cassidy Findley.

It was almost New Year. I had just withdrawn money from the bank when I noticed that the amount on my passbook didn't match the cash in my hand. I counted carefully—my passbook showed a different figure than the five thousand dollars I was holding. Frustrated, I turned and went back to the counter to find the teller who had handled my transaction. Clutching the receipt, I tried to be polite. "Excuse me, I think there might be a mistake with this transaction." Instantly, she snapped, pointing her finger at my nose. "Don't you know that once you leave the counter, we are not responsible for any discrepancies?" I waved my hands, trying to explain. "No, wait, look again. I clearly withdrew five thousand dollars, but on my passbook, it shows…" She cut me off impatiently. "When you filled out the form, it was all right there. Once you leave the counter, it's not our problem. You signed the form yourself, confirming everything. Are we supposed to correct it every time someone claims a mistake after leaving the bank?" I froze. No wonder she kept repeating that the bank isn't responsible after leaving the counter. She thought I had come back to ask for more money. What I was really trying to explain was simple: I withdrew five thousand, yet my passbook showed that I deposited five thousand.