A Quote by Nick Cassavetes
My daughter, when she was a week old, was diagnosed with congenital heart disease. For the past thirteen years, she's had four major heart surgeries. She's a candidate for - and must have - heart replacement surgery in order to have a long life.
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Her life was beginning to make sense again, although she couldn’t say she was enjoying it. But her mind was clear, and her heart was not constantly as heavy. Only when she thought about him. But she knew that in time, she’d survive it. She had done it before and would again. Eventually the heart repairs.
In 2012, I had a son born with very severe congenital heart defect that was life-threatening and required him to go through a series of open-heart surgeries, as young as two days old, and subsequent other procedures.
The new female is competent in all that she chooses. She chooses whatever her heart tells her. She can create a business, lead a country, drive a truck, hammer nails, deliver mail, or raise a family. She is at home in every social and physical environment. She can be a housewife, if she chooses. She can be anything else, too. She is intuitive and heart centered. She is all that a female has been, and more.
She looked at him then, but his image blurred behind tears that swelled into her eyes. She must leave. She must leave this room, because she wanted to hit him, as she had sworn she never would do. She wanted to cause him pain for taking a place in her heart that she wouldn't have given him if she'd known the truth. "You lied to me," she said. She turned and ran from the room.
That only shows you have no heart,’ she said. But her eyes said that she knew he had a heart, and that was why she was afraid of him
Pea was aware suddenly of how fragile her heart was, how much darkness was inside it, fighting, always, with the light. She did not like the rat. She would neverlike the rat, but she knew what she must do to save her own heart.
She put a wedge beside my heart And then she brought the mallet down She sang no song to guide her work I lost my heart without a sound
My mother started out by being a very good girl. She did everything that was expected of her, and it cost her dearly. Late in her life, she was furious that she had not followed her own heart; she thought that it had ruined her life, and I think she was right.
She had heard Papa sing so many songs about the heart; the heart that was breaking - was aching - was dancing -was heavy laden - that leaped for joy - that was heavy in sorrow - that turned over - that stood still. She really believed the heart actually did those things.
My father was 91 when he passed away of natural causes, and my mother died aged 88. She had a heart condition and had many heart attacks throughout her life, but she had ten children, so that would have put a strain on her body.
She had worried that she would break if her heart broke, but she wasn't broken. she had lost everything, but she was not lost. It seemed a worthwhile thing to know.
To me, crying is not a sign of weakness. She wants it that bad and she puts her whole heart into it. She had really high expectations, and that's why she's so good. She just had a bad game.
But although she was with family and friends, she'd never felt more alone. She felt as if she'd lost a vital part of herself and she had - her heart.
She felt so old, so worn out, so far away from the best moments of her life that she even yearned for those that she remembered as the worst… Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude.
When I was a child, doctors sent my grandmother home in a wheelchair to die. Diagnosed with end-stage heart disease, she already had so much scar tissue from bypass operations that the surgeons had essentially run out of plumbing. There was nothing more to do, they said; her life was over at 65.
Mary's life was a perfect imitation of Jesus. She was humble, hidden, sorrowful and afflicted, but she also knew joys that never entered the heart of man. She is all things to all men that she might understand their failings, though she failed not.
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