ŷ������

“Coming back last time to the house she grew up in, Isabel had been reminded of the darkness that had descended with her brothers' deaths, how loss had leaked all over her mother's life like a stain. As a fourteen-year-old, Isabel had searched the dictionary. She knew that if a wife lost a husband, there was a whole new word to describe who she was: she was now a widow. A husband became a widower. But if a parent loss a child, there was no special label for their grief. They were still just a mother or a father, even if they no longer had a son or daughter. That seemed odd. As to her own status, she wondered whether she was still technically a sister, now that her adored brothers had died.”
― M.L. Stedman, The Light Between Oceans

“ഹൃദയത്തിനു നാലറകള്�� ഉണ്ടെന്ന�� പറഞ്ഞിട്ടുണ്ട്.സ്ത്രീ ഹൃദയത്തിന്റെ നാലറകളില്�� ഓര�� ബിംബങ്ങള്�� സൂക്ഷിക്കുന്നു എന്ന�� എനിക്ക�� തോന്നുന്നു.
ഒന്നാമത്തെ അറയില്�� ഒരമ്മയ��,രണ്ടില്�� ഒര�� പെങ്ങള്��,മൂന്നില്�� ഒര�� സഖ��,നാലില്�� ഒര�� സന്യാസിന��...
അഭയമായ�� മാറുമ്പോള്�� അവളമ്മയായ്�� മാറുന്നു.അമ്മയുടെ വിരല്�� തുമ്പുകള്�� വിട്ടോടി�� അനാഥരാ�� പൈതങ്ങളുടെ ഭൂമിയാണിത്.ടോയ് കാറുകളെക്കാള്�� പാവകളെ ഒര�� പെണ്കുട്ടി സ്നേഹിച്ചു തുടങ്ങുന്നത് വെറുതെയല്ല!
കാത്തു നില്‍ക്കുമ്പോള്�� അവള്�� പെങ്ങളാകുന്ന��.പെങ്ങളാകുന്നത് നിസ്വാര്‍ഥമാ�� ജന്മത്തിന്റെ രാഖി ചരടിലാണ്.��.അയ്യപ്പന്‍റ�� വരികള്�� :"ഇന�� നമുക്കൊര�� ജന്മമുണ്ടെങ്കില്�� ,നാ�� ഒര�� വൃക്ഷത്തില്�� ജനിക്കണം.ആനന്ദത്താലും ദുഖത്താലുംകണ്ണ�� നിറഞ്ഞ ഒര�� പെങ്ങളില എനിക്ക�� വേണം."

എന്തും പൊറുക്കുന്��, എല്ലാം മനസിലാക്കുന്�� ,വേളയില്�� സഖിയെന്ന സൈക്കിക്�� -നീഡ് ആവുന്ന��.ഭാര്യയെന്ന�� കാമിനിയെന്നോ കൂട്ടുകാരിയെന്നോ അവളെ വിളിച്ചു കൊള്‍ക...വാഴ്വിലെ അവസാനിക്കാത്�� യാത്രയില്�� സ്നേഹത്തിന്റെയും കരുത്തിന്റെയും പാഥേയം പൊതിഞ്ഞു കെട്ടി നില്‍ക്കുന്നവള്�� .

പ്രാര്‍ത്ഥനാപൂര്‍വ്വ�� നില്‍ക്കുമ്പോള്�� അവള്�� ഒര�� സന്യാസിനിയ�� പോലെ നിര്‍മ്മലയാവുന്ന��.സിദ്ധാര്‍ത്ഥന്‍മാര്‍ക്ക്�� വെളിപാടിന്റെ ബോധി വൃക്ഷമാവുന്ന��.മറ്റാര്‍ക്ക�� വേണ്ടി പ്രിയമുള്ളതെന്തോ ത്യെജിക്കുമ്പോള്�� ജീവിതമവള്‍ക്കൊര�� ബലിയാവുന്ന��”
― Fr.Boby Jose Kattikad, Sanchariyude Daivam|സഞ്ചാരിയുട�� ദൈവം

“My sister and I are so close that we finish each other’s sentences and often wonder who’s memories belong to whom.”
― Shannon Celebi

“...grief is loved turned into an eternal missing. ...It can't be contained in hours or days or minutes.”
― Rosamund Lupton, Sister

“I couldn't bear the thought of Alex looking at me like I was a freak. It was bad enough that the looked at me as Jack's sister.”
― Sarah Alderson, Hunting Lila

“For one thing, everyone there is so clever. Do they think me dull?
Perhaps I should assure them that our goats enjoyed listening to me for hours on end. I am certain their bleats meant "Do go on, Miri, darling. You are immensely entertaining."
Your immensely entertaining sister,
Miri”
― Shannon Hale, Palace of Stone

“My first job is big sister and I take that very seriously.”
― Venus Williams

“The gastliness of nothing. Because I was nobody's sister now.”
― Rosamund Lupton, Sister

“Know the true definition of yourself. That is essential.
Then, when you know your own definition, flee from it.”
― Jelaluddin Rumi

“That's when I started thinking about my sister.
I thought about the time when she and her friends painted my fingernails, and how that was okay because my brother wasn't there. And the time she let me use her dolls to make up plays or let me watch whatever I wanted to watch on TV. And when she started becoming a "young lady," and no one was allowed to look at her because she thought she was fat. And how she really wasn't fat. And how she was actually very pretty. And how different her face looked when she realized boys thought she was pretty. And how different her face looked the first time she really like a boy who was not on a poster on her wall. And how her face looked when she realized she was in love with that boy. And then I wondered how her face would look when she came out from behind those doors.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

“Lorcan rubbed his head. “Am I asking too much to want the little bitch dead? Am I?�� It seemed Hefaidd-Hen learned long ago not to answer certain questions. “All I want is for her to suffer a painful, horrifying death. And for her head to be on a spike in front of my castle. That’s all I want.”
― G.A. Aiken, Dragon Actually

“I understand that it’s disheartening to pour effort and money into a work of art and find that others do not value it with the same intensity. I’ve been to this rodeo more than a few times, and yes, it’s painful and hard on the soul. It is also the sort of thing that grown-ups do every day. Anyone deluded enough to think they are owed monetary success because they bled for their art is in for some hard, hard knocks and buckets full of tears. There will be many cries of “unfair�� and much jealousy and hatred. And to be fair, all authors go through this every time they watch their books ride the waves of bestseller charts and the ego torture chamber known as ŷ������ reviews. Even the most well-adjusted of us watch that horrible piece of shit book beat our baby to pieces and gnash our teeth and shout at our monitors demanding to know what brain-donors are shopping on amazon.com these days.

But holy Smart Bitch on a cracker, Batman, to write a post about how stupid readers are and worse to actually put it out there on the internet is so beyond the pale there’s a special hell for that kind of idiocy. Let me repeat: authors exist at the pleasure of readers. Without the people who buy and read my books, I am just another dizzy broad writing shit down. Readers aren’t just an author’s audience; they are her lifeblood.
--”
― Heidi Cullinan

“However hard and however long we love someone who has died, they can never love us back. At least that is how it feels...”
― Rosamund Lupton, Sister

“My sister the booty police.”
― victoria laurie, Abby Cooper, Psychic Eye

“The unnatural beast plummeted to the ground, vainly attempting to keep his entrails in and put out the fire that covered him. Morfyd spewed another spell at the retreating form and Hefaidd-Hen burst into pieces.
Fearghus glanced at his sister. “That was a bit much, don’t you think?��
She gave an innocent shrug. “I like to be certain.”
― G.A. Aiken, Dragon Actually

“Ishbel read maps like storybooks. She was getting off the island, and no one was going to stop her. That was all just romance, just fairytales, because anyone can leave the island. Since they built the bridge, leaving should be as easy as sticking your keys in the car ignition. But leaving is never easy.”
― Kirsty Logan, The Rental Heart and Other Fairytales

“In the beginning we start with roses. The king’s flower right? Only they wilt in less than a day, especially when exposed to the elements. But Carnations? Oh, what a beautiful flower. They come in every color. True, some are painted, but that doesn’t mean they are less beautiful, and they never wilt.”
― Ruth McLeod-Kearns, Carnations Never Wilt

“In the evening, the summer haze hovers over the fields like a translucent amber blanket waiting to put the crops to bed, tucking them in sweetly before the chill of the night descends over all. The locusts buzz in the distance and the mosquitoes gather around the porch lights as we play cards and sip lemonade. It's muggy, but a comfortable kind of humid, like natures hug on your sun-kissed skin.”
― Sky Ashton, 10 Sexy Stories Thank You Our Readers Erotica Bundle

“I was tired of her getting away with being so young.”
― Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

“My sister is there with, probably, the most dangerous people on this city! You have a little sister?��
“N��.��
“Then you don’t have any right to tell me what I suposse to sacrifice if it’s for my sister’s sake!��
“O�ɱ��...��
“She’s the only younger sibling I have. If something happens to her, I don’t see any reason why should I keep alive on this freaking Earth!”
― Rea Lidde, Mission Possible, But Difficult Task

“He would know a number of grown women in his life who did not possess even a small portion of the grace his middle sister owned at the age of fourteen.”
― James Carlos Blake, Wildwood Boys

“She once told me of a night that fumed with escapes and was filled with bedsides reeking of ecstasy; she told me the stars cast not judgments, but blessings, knowing full well the disastrous outcomes of the deeds they cradled with the strings of their young hearts. She’d inhaled the night itself, those around her doing the same, and so all become one. No disharmony. No discordance. Nothing to shatter the cause; nothing to unearth the beauty. So as we together ascended that front porch, allowing the glow behind the blown-out windows and the odious steams plunder us from through the cracks...time forgot to distill us, and our steps became as silver as glass. I could no longer deny the boiling words of my blood: tonight would be the beginning of a very long road indeed.”
― Dave Matthes, Sleepeth Not, the Bastard

“As I waited, I flicked through a magazine in a futile bid to look occupied. It had the next month's date on the cover and I remembered you laughing at time-traveling fashion mags, saying the date on the cover should alert people to their absurdity inside.”
― Rosamund Lupton

“Instead of slapping her head, I do what they tell you to do: count to ten. Only I do it the gifted way: 123+456+789+10. When your sister has hurtled you swerving into the darkness, stranded you at a funeral home, and threatens to get you in trouble, just stop and count to 1,378 before you respond.”
― Jo Ann Beard, In Zanesville