A Quote by Sylvia Day

I supposed, perhaps, you miss the promise of what could have been, while at the same time you are grateful that what it was instead is over. — © Sylvia Day
I supposed, perhaps, you miss the promise of what could have been, while at the same time you are grateful that what it was instead is over.
Instead of silencing speakers on campus, perhaps do what you're supposed to in college instead: listen to someone who thinks differently than you do.
The question is grateful to who? You would think grateful to Allah, but Allah didn’t mention Himself. So it could be grateful to Allah, grateful to your parents, grateful to your teachers, grateful for your health, grateful to friends. Grateful to anyone who’s done anything for you. Grateful to your employer for giving you a job. Appreciative. Grateful is not just an act of saying Alhamdulilah. Grateful is an attitude, it’s a lifestyle, it’s a way of thinking. You’re constantly grateful.
I think success happens when it's supposed to and when you can appreciate it. I am grateful that it didn't happen for me at 22 or 23. I would've been foolish enough to think that we're all entitled to it, instead of it being the divine blessing that it is.
We had, like, the greatest time you could ever imagine doing 'Arrested Development.' And as grateful as we are for the careers we have afterwards, it was - we still miss it.
Politicians will promise some pretty ridiculous things. They will promise a chicken in every pot. They'll promise that they'll keep Social Security solvent. They'll promise drugs for old people. They'll promise lots of stuff. But it doesn't come near the kind of promises that religion makes. The Mormons promise that if you're good while you're on Earth, you get to rule over your own planet in the afterlife. Now, there's an entitlement that goes a little bit beyond prescription drugs for old people.
Chyerti—that’s us, demons and devils, small and big—are compulsive. We obsess. It’s our nature. We turn on a track, around and around; we march in step; we act out the same tales, over and over, the same sets of motions, while time piles up like yarn under a wheel. We like patterns. They’re comforting. Sometimes little things change—a car instead of a house, a girl not named Yelena. But it’s no different, not really. Not ever.
It's stupid to miss a thing when there are so many people to miss instead, but I miss this train already, and all the others that carried me through the city, my city, after I was brave enough to ride them. I brush my fingers over the car wall, just once, and then jump.
No matter how beautiful and loved a cover may be, the jury on it remains uncommitted until the book has been in the world for a while. Perhaps bookstore buyers will be indifferent. Perhaps it will be lost on store shelves. Perhaps there's another book or two out there using the same or a similar photo.
*Oh, I know I could say were through And tell myself I'm over you But even if I made a vow I promise not to miss you now And try to hide the truth inside I fell cause I, I just can't live a lie *
The biggest challenge of my career has been wanting to do EVERYTHING! I always say I wish I could clone myself so that I could do everything for work and be a full-time mommy at the same time, and I know that so many women feel the same way. It has been a challenge for me to step back, take a moment to breathe, and to accept the fact that I logistically just cannot do everything and be everywhere at the same time.
So, it's a delicate thing, but at the same time our producers and writers are very much aware of the potential downfall that could ensue so I think they're going to be very careful about how they do that. At the same time I don't think they want to leave the characters in the same holding pattern that they've been in for a while. I think that they're all trying to put the characters in a different situation.
Yeah, I miss the Grateful Dead. I miss that groove. I miss the brotherhood. Absolutely. There's no doubt about it.
I remember asking myself one night, while I was curled up in the same old corner of my same old couch in tears yet again over the same old repetition of sorrowful thoughts, 'Is there ANYTHING about this scene you can change, Liz?' And all I could think to do was stand up, whle still sobbing, and try to balance on one foot in the middle of the living room. Just to prove that - while I couldn't stop the tears or change my dismal interior dialogue - I was not yet totally out of control: at least I could cry hysterically while balanced on one foot.
Over my lifetime, women have demonstrated repeatedly that they can do anything that men can do, while still managing traditional women's work at the same time. But the same expansion of roles has not been available to men.
I was always taught to be grateful, and so the question came early: What is there to be grateful for? Why is life supposed to be so good? That's still a question I try to answer all the time.
The biggest challenge for me has been in coping with my perfectionism. I have a stiflingly hard time moving forward in a project if it's not 'just right' all along the way. The trap I so easily fall into is rewriting and rewriting the same scenes over and over to make them perfect, instead of continuing on into the wild unknown of the story.
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