A Quote by Lisa Kleypas

I wondered how much of me would be left after tomorrow. — © Lisa Kleypas
I wondered how much of me would be left after tomorrow.
I had learned this lesson so many times before. It was the great inner truth that didn't require the support of logic. Every time I loved, I lost, and I was diminished. I wondered how much of me would be left after tomorrow.
What would tomorrow bring? I wondered. Both hands on the wheel, I closed my eyes. I didn’t feel like I was in my own body; my body was just a lonely, temporary container I happened to be borrowing. What would become of me tomorrow I did not know.
I wondered if it was possible to donate my body to science before I was actually dead. I wondered if a disease were to be named after me what the symptoms would be.
I thought of the people before me who had looked down at the river and gone to sleep beneath it. I wondered about them. I wondered how they had done it--it, the physical act. I simply wondered about the dead because their days had ended and I did not know how I would get through mine.
I wondered if there would ever be a day when I didn't think about Alaska, wondered whether I should hope for a time when she would be a distant memory - recalled only on the anniversary of her death, or maybe a couple of weeks after, remembering only after having forgotten.
My agent sent me the script and I loved it. I wondered how they would turn me into a chimp. My agent said it would probably not entail to much time. Just some hair and make-up. I found out that it was not so simple.
For me what was amazing was consumerism of people survived after Katrina. You see in a yard that the SUV is gone but they left the Ferrari or the more expensive car because it just wasn't practical. They couldn't get all their stuff in it. So you see this beautiful car totally destroyed; motorcycles. You walk into these houses - we were with the New Orleans police when they would go into the houses - we'd go through these houses and we were just amazed at how much stuff that had been accumulated and how much was left behind.
From the bottom of my heart, I wanted to give up; I wanted to give up on living. There was no denying that tomorrow would come, and the day after tomorrow, and so next week, too. I never thought it would be this hard, but I would go on living in the midst of a glomy depression, and that made me feel sick to the depths of my soul. In spite of the tempest raging within me, I walked the night path calmly.
I never want to love someone like that, so much that there would be no room left for myself, so much that I wouldn't be able to survive if he left me.
I've always wondered what it would be like if the Messiah, or Christ Returned, were actually alive and living in our society; who would that person be, how we would identify them, how would they live and what would they believe in, how would society react to them? I decided to try and tell my idea of that story.
When there were first rumors of us going after LeBron, some fans wondered how we could do that after all that happened. But after the 'Sports Illustrated' letter, every fan is thrilled to have him back. That was so heartfelt.
And then another letter had come from Christopher, so devastating that Amelia wondered how mere scratches of ink on paper could rip someone's soul to shreds. She had wondered how she could feel so much pain and still survive.
You wondered how you'd make it through. I wondered what was wrong with you. Because how could you give your love to someone else, yet share your dreams with me? Sometimes the only thing you're looking for, is the one thing you can't see.
If you want to know how rich you really are, find out what would be left of you tomorrow if you should lose every dollar you own tonight.
How did I get here How did I end up in the arms of a boy I barely knew but knew I didn't want to lose I wondered what I would have thought of Andrius in Lithuania. Would I have liked him Would he have liked me
I wondered how television worked. I thought about how an interior decorator decided on colors and styles. I wondered, when babies tarted learning how to walk, if they didn't know that that couldn't walk.
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