A Quote by Richelle Mead

I want her to be happy. It's worth sacrificing myself. — © Richelle Mead
I want her to be happy. It's worth sacrificing myself.
For a long time I wasn't happy, but that had nothing to do with Beyonce. That had to do with me trying to get my life in order and make better decisions for myself. I'm seeing all these wonderful things happen for her, and I am happy for her. But I want a path. I want things to pop off for me, too.
I myself will perhaps cry out with all the rest, looking at the mother embracing her child's tormentor: 'Just art thou, O Lord!' but I do not want to cry out with them. While there's still time, I hasten to defend myself against it, and therefore I absolutely renounce all higher harmony. It is not worth one little tear of even that one tormented child who beat her chest with her little fist and prayed to 'dear God' in a stinking outhouse with her unredeemed tears!
Nothing - not prestige, power or pride - is worth sacrificing the things that you truly want, the things that you truly love. "Don't be afraid to take time and smell the roses. Don't hesitate in seeking out those things you hold dear. Seeking them out and holding on to them. And don't ever cease standing up for what you believe in, and fighting for those things that you want. Life is too short. Do what makes you happy, regardless of how others might feel.
Although some men who were easy with their words said that it was worth sacrificing one’s life for a night of love with such an arousing woman, the truth was that no one made any effort to do so. Perhaps, not only to attain her but also to conjure away her dangers, all that was needed was a feeling as primitive and as simple as that of love, but that was the only thing that did not occur to anyone.
Please tell me a story about a girl who gets away." I would, even if I had to adapt one, even if I had to make one up just for her. "Gets away from what, though?" "From her fairy godmother. From the happy ending that isn't really happy at all. Please have her get out and run off of the page altogether, to somewhere secret where words like 'happy' and 'good' will never find her." "You don't want her to be happy and good?" "I'm not sure what's really meant by happy and good. I would like her to be free. Now. Please begin.
Sacrificing high quality for speed, it just isn't worth it.
And I ask myself what it is about me that makes this wonderful, beautiful woman return. Is it because I'm pathetic, helpless in my current state, completely dependent on her? Or is it my sense of humour, my willingness to tease her, to joke my way into painful, secret places? Do I help her understand herself? Do I make her happy? Do I do something for her that her husband and son can't do? Has she fallen in love with me? As the days pass and I continue to heal, my body knitting itself back together, I begin to allow myself to think that she has.
I just love the Corps. I love the brotherhood, the camaraderie. I thank anyone in uniform who serves their fellow man. I love this country for so many reasons. We have such a great country here, and it's worth defending, and it's worth sacrificing for.
I'm very ambitious. But my overall goal, above ambition, is that I want to be happy with what I'm doing, and I want to be happy with myself.
There are still many causes worth sacrificing for, so much history yet to be made.
I'd like to protect children, too, but... is everything worth sacrificing to that? I mean, drugs have done a lot of good... They've midwived a lot of good ideas... lot of great songs, you know? I think "Penny Lane" is worth 10 dead kids... I think Dark Side of the Moon is worth 100 dead kids. There, I said it.
I don't ever want my daughter growing up questioning who she is or her choices. I want her to be a strong, happy individual.
I just don't think any job is worth sacrificing your private life for.
I support my wife. I want her to have a career. I want her to be happy, to have success at what she does.
No." Mosca bit her lip and shook her head firmly. Books no longer seemed quite enough. I don’t want a happy ending, I want more story.
I think of her every time I judge myself or someone else too harshly. How do we really know the worth of our work? It's not our job to judge the worth of what we offer the world, but to keep offering it regardless. You might never know the true worth of your efforts. Or it could simply be too soon to tell.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!