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In love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are.
She wanted to bottle how safe she felt in this moment, so she could drink of it later when loneliness and fear left her parched.
(one good piece, ladies, and choose it well; everything makes a statement, nothing speaks quite so loudly as cheapness).
“Generally, Madame, the failing of a student to learn is the failing of the teacher to teach.”
Why was it so easy for men in the world to do as they wanted and so difficult for women?
People left.
She couldn’t stand to see the Nazis, and one day without meat would hardly matter. Instead, she searched
“Don’t think about who they are. Think about who you are and what sacrifices you can live with and what will break you.”
“You’re not alone, and you’re not the one in charge,” Mother said gently. “Ask for help when you need it, and give help when you can. I think that is how we serve God—and each other and ourselves—in times as dark as these.”
She wanted to believe that she was neither alone nor in charge, but rather that her life was unfolding according to His plan, even if she couldn’t see it.
Whatever else she was or wasn’t, whatever her failings, she intended to be a good woman.
adding a precious spoonful of oil to the pan. While cubes of potato browned and onion caramelized,
What kind of benevolent God would allow such a thing?
even if only for a few moments, and to sit with someone who knew her.
She was so tired of begging people to love her.
Love had turned into loss and she’d pushed it away, but somehow, impossibly, a bit of that love had remained.
“Maybe it’s best to just forget the past and go on.”
“But love has to be stronger than hate, or there is no future for us.”
They hadn’t loved each other enough in the time they had, and then time ran out.
Wounds heal. Love lasts. We remain.

