Allah has fulfilled His promise to you, and you defeated them by His leave; until when you faltered, and disputed the command, and disobeyed after He had shown you what you like. Some of you want this world, and some of you want the next. Then He turned you away from them, to test you; but He pardoned you. Allah is Gracious towards the believers.
Ali 'Imran 152
Let none falter who thinks he is right, and we may succeed. But if, after all, we shall fail, be it so: we still shall have the proud consolation of saying to our consciences, and to the departed shade of our country's freedom, that the cause approved of our judgment and adored of our hearts, in disaster, in chains, in torture, in death, we never faltered in defending.
I'm not that kind of Indian, ' Shanti said, her practiced smile never leaving her face, though it faltered just a bit, and in that slight wobble was something hard and angry, something that looked like centuries of colonial oppression boiling up into an I'm-going-to-kick-your-ass-in-this-pageant-and-then-take-over-all-your-beauty-out-sourcing-needs hatred.
Going out to others in order to reach the fringes of humanity does not mean rushing out aimlessly into the world. Often it is better simply to slow down, to put aside our eagerness in order to see and listen to others, to stop rushing from one thing to another and to remain with someone who has faltered along the way.
She nodded... and was about to turn away. Then, as if she thought better of it, she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Jack." "Yes?" "I. . ." she faltered. She knew what she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. It turned out she didn't have to. Jack put a hand to his heart and nodded. "I feel the same way about you.
Melissa de la Cruz
When it comes to your life's work, you can't take yourself too seriously. Even Jesus had an occasional joke with the boys, take walking on water, for instance - but there's a time and place for fun. Jesus never faltered when it came time to tip over the money stalls or to take his hard walk up the mountain.
But you were always a good man of business, Jacob, ' faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself. Business!' cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. "Mankind was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The deals of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!
But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,' faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself. Business!' cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. "Mankind was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The deals of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!
But he was there.Day and night he was there for me, risking his very existence to protect me from a war that claimed my life over and over again.He never faltered, never wavered, never feared for his own safety.He was beaten, stabbed, abused, and tortured again and again, yet he still stuck by me, ignoring the possibility that he would die for me one day. It wasn't right. I didn't deserve everything he sacrificed for me.I wasn't worth so high a price.
Courtney Allison Moulton
Rostov kept thinking about that brilliant feat of his, which, to his surprise, had gained him the St. George Cross and even given him the reputation of a brave man - and there was something in it that he was unable to understand. "So they're even more afraid than we are!" he thought. "So that's all there is to so-called heroism? And did I really do it for the fatherland? And what harm had he done, with his dimple and his light blue eyes? But how frightened he was! He thought I'd kill him. Why should I kill him? My hand faltered. And they gave me the St. George Cross. I understand nothing, nothing!
Well...what did you promise exactly? Not to tell anyone that Eric Dragomir had a mistress and baby?" Sonya nodded. "And not to tell who they were?" Sonya nodded again. Sydney gave Sonya the warmest, friendliest smile i'd ever seen on the Alchemist. "Did you promise not to tell anyone where they are?" Sonya nodded, and Sydney's smile faltered a little. Then her eyes lit up. "Did you promise not to LEAD anyone to where they are?
When Sean died she understood for the first time how completely human beings were dependent upon a suspension of disbelief in order to simply move forward through their days. If that suspension faltered, if you truly understood, even if only for a moment, that human beings were made of bones and blood that broke and sprayed with the slightest provocation, and that provocation was everywhere-in street curbs and dangling tree limbs, bicycles and pencils-well you would fly for the first nest in a tree, run flat-out for the first burrow you saw.
I didn't mean to tell you, " Mrs. Whatsit faltered. "I didn't mean ever to let you know. But oh, my dears, I did so love being a star!" "Yyouu are sstill verry yyoungg, " Mrs Witch said, her voice faintly chiding. The Medium sat looking happily at the star-filled sky in her ball, smiling, and nodding and chuckling gently. But Meg noticed that her eyes were drooping, and suddenly her head fell forward and she gave a faint snore. "Poor thing, " Mrs Whatsit said, "we've worn her out. It's very hard work for her.
Um... " Hazel faltered. "You mean you won't... you're not going to-" "Claim your life?" Thantos asked. "Well, let's see... " He pulled a pure-black iPad from thin air. Death, tapped the screen a few times, and all Frank could think was: Please don't let there be an app for reaping souls. "I don't see you on the list, " Thantos said. "Pluto gives me specific orders for escaped souls, you see. For some reason, he has not issued a warrant for yours. Perhaps he feels your life is not finished, or it could be n oversight. If you'd like me to call and ask-" "No!" Hazel yelped. "That's okay." "Are you sure?" Death asked helpfully. "I have video-conferencing enabled. I have his Skype address here somewhere...
He took the pen and book from her and faltered. 'Just write anything - anything trivial that won't matter if it comes to pass.' 'Erm... ' God, he was useless at this. Elena's hair turned blue. 'Hey!' 'What?' 'I don't want blue hair! What the hell did you write that for?' 'It seemed trivial.' 'Blue hair - blue? That's trivial? What if I can't undo it?' Karl stared at her blankly. His throat went dry. He felt like a total dickhead, but writing really wasn't his strong point, so he went for humour instead and flashed her a grin. 'I was going to write that all your clothes fall off, but figured you may have a problem with that. This was the second thing that came to mind.' (Karl and Elena)
Alex cornered her right before she was going to make an appointment at the nurse's station to see him. 'Bree, I'm going to be referring you to Carlo from now on, ' Alex informed her. 'I think in light of recent events it would be a conflict of interest for me to continue to be your doctor.' 'Is that right?' Bree asked leaning her elbow on the counter and raising an eyebrow. 'Yes, I wouldn't feel comfortable about it considering what you did to Carrie.' 'Aw, that's nice, ' Bree smiled sarcastically, staring up at his smug self-righteous face. 'Nice to know this place has such moral upstanding doctors.' 'Yes, so I will be referring you to him from now on, ' Alex said, clenching his jaw. 'Great, ' Bree said, fighting not to roll her eyes. 'Have a good afternoon, ' he said curtly and turned to walk away. Don't do it. Don't do it, Bree. The evil Bree won though. 'You too, Dr. Home Wrecker.' Alex's step faltered but he didn't turn around.
I did, ' Henric said, with a triumphant look. 'Oh, ' Meena said, opening the book to the page 74, the one from her dream. 'You mean this prince?' She pointed at the illustration of Lucifer. Henric's grin faltered slightly. 'Precisely.' 'He's not a prince, ' Meena said. 'As you know perfectly well, he's a fallen angel. And what was Lucien's mother?' 'A p-princess, ' Henric stammered. But there was terror in his eyes. 'No, ' Lucien said, shaking his head. 'She was an angel.' Meena swung around to look at him. Tears glittered in her eyes as she gazed up into his, which had gone back to their normal deep brown. 'Yes, Lucien, ' she said, holding the book open in front of him. 'That's why Henric was trying to keep this from you. Because he realized it was the one thing that might help you remember what your mother always taught you. You, of all people, really do have a choice. You can choose to be good... because you are part good. No matter how hard you try to be the devil's son, you've still got an angel for a mother.
He gestured at me. 'Do you like the blanket?' I nodded. 'It's warm.' 'I made it. Well, actually, I didn't skin the animal, but I did kill it... after the others pinned it down. It's werewolf skin.' My heart faltered; I gripped at a wad of black fur. 'I slayed the beast for you, Catherine. I used your sword. It was your grandmother's idea actually, a wedding present. You mentioned how chilly you get.' 'You didn't slay a werewolf, ' I breathed before repeating the words louder. 'You did not slay a werewolf, Thaddeus.' 'Oh, but I did. I took a band of huntsman with me and we tracked one down. A smaller one, mind you, not far from the front gate... ' 'You did not!' I contended more strongly. Why would one wolf have separated from the pack? Why outside our walls? 'Yes, Catherine, I did, ' he insisted. I shook my head disbelieving. 'You're not capable-' 'I am so.' I wanted to cry. I wanted to protest, but to do so meant giving away my knowledge of the truth. Without knowing what else to do or say I changed the subject. 'The fire's gone out.' Thaddeus turned his head to check. 'You're right. I'll see to it.' He fed the barrel stove until a healthy blaze was roaring. Finding me no longer a decent conversationalist, Thaddeus left with a promise to return soon with food and water. Unobserved, I gathered up the fur hide of a lost soul and curled into a ball, hugging it close to my chest. I cried silent tears and mourned for this unknown werewolf for days.
Richelle E. Goodrich
All at once, something wonderful happened, although at first, it seemed perfectly ordinary. A female goldfinch suddenly hove into view. She lighted weightlessly on the head of a bankside purple thistle and began emptying the seedcase, sowing the air with down. The lighted frame of my window filled. The down rose and spread in all directions, wafting over the dam's waterfall and wavering between the tulip trunks and into the meadow. It vaulted towards the orchard in a puff; it hovered over the ripening pawpaw fruit and staggered up the steep faced terrace. It jerked, floated, rolled, veered, swayed. The thistle down faltered down toward the cottage and gusted clear to the woods; it rose and entered the shaggy arms of pecans. At last it strayed like snow, blind and sweet, into the pool of the creek upstream, and into the race of the creek over rocks down. It shuddered onto the tips of growing grasses, where it poised, light, still wracked by errant quivers. I was holding my breath. Is this where we live, I thought, in this place in this moment, with the air so light and wild? The same fixity that collapses stars and drives the mantis to devour her mate eased these creatures together before my eyes: the thick adept bill of the goldfinch, and the feathery coded down. How could anything be amiss? If I myself were lighter and frayed, I could ride these small winds, too, taking my chances, for the pleasure of being so purely played. The thistle is part of Adam's curse. 'Cursed is the ground for thy sake, in sorrow shalt thou eat of it; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee.' A terrible curse: But does the goldfinch eat thorny sorrow with the thistle or do I? If this furling air is fallen, then the fall was happy indeed. If this creekside garden is sorrow, then I seek martyrdom. I was weightless; my bones were taut skins blown with buoyant gas; it seemed that if I inhaled too deeply, my shoulders and head would waft off. Alleluia.
A bout of nerves crept up my spine and I tilted my head at him, hoping I was imagining the heat spreading over my cheeks to spare myself the embarrassment of blushing merely because he was piercing me with those chocolate eyes that I had never noticed were so amazing. 'What are you staring at?' 'Can I take you to prom?' He asked me. Just like that, no hesitation or insecurity to be found in his tone or facial expression. His confidence caught me completely off guard and I gaped at him in a stunned silence for almost twenty full seconds. His expression never faltered, though. He just watched my mouth work to make some sort of intelligible sound, waiting for my answer as he oozes at least the illusion of complete calm. 'Huh?' I blurted in an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak. I sounded like a chipmunk and his smirk made me turn a deep shade of red. 'Um... Uh... Prom?' I managed, eloquent as ever. He laughed at me fondly, nodding his head. 'Yeah, prom.' Shock was not a deep enough word to describe what I was feeling over this proposal. This was Jim, the kid who swore up and down he would rather gouge out his eyes with a grapefruit spoon than put on dress clothes and he was offering to take me to a place where flannel shirts and ratty jeans were unacceptable and dance me around a room in uncomfortable shoes all night long? This couldn't be real life. But it was real life. I was sitting in the car with him with my mouth hanging open like a fish waiting for him to laugh and tell me he was kidding, that there was no way he was going to put on a tie for my benefit, and he was sitting right there, a slightly nervous look crossing his features over my dumbstruck expression. Breathe, Lizzie, I scolded myself. Answer him! Say yes! You could have knocked me over with a feather and I was very relieved to be sitting down in a car so I could prevent anything humiliating from happening. Having already proved I could not trust my voice to answer him I jerkily nodded my head as my mouth grew into a Cheshire cat sized smile. I turned my face away and hid behind my hair as if I could hide my excitement from the world. Jim was visibly euphoric and that only made me want to squeal even more. He was excited to take me out. How cool was that?
There's folly in her stride that's the rumor justified by lies I've seen her up close beneath the sheets and sometime during the summer she was mine for a few sweet months in the fall and parts of December ((( To get to the heart of this unsolvable equation, one must first become familiar with the physical, emotional, and immaterial makeup as to what constitutes both war and peace. ))) I found her looking through a window the same window I'd been looking through She smiled and her eyes never faltered this folly was a crime ((( The very essence of war is destructive, though throughout the years utilized as a means of creating peace, such an equation might seem paradoxical to the untrained eye. Some might say using evil to defeat evil is counterproductive, and gives more meaning to the word 'futile'. Others, like Edmund Burke, would argue that 'the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men and women to do nothing.' ))) She had an identity I could identify with something my fingertips could caress in the night ((( There is such a limitless landscape within the mind, no two minds are alike. And this is why as a race we will forever be at war with each other. What constitutes peace is in the mind of the beholder. ))) Have you heard the argument? This displacement of men and women and women and men the minds we all have the beliefs we all share Slipping inside of us thoughts and religions and bodies all bare ((( 'Without darkness, there can be no light, ' he once said. To demonstrate this theory, during one of his seminars he held a piece of white chalk and drew a line down the center of a blackboard. Explaining that without the blackness of the board, the white line would be invisible. ))) When she left she kissed with eyes open I knew this because I'd done the same Sometimes we saw eye to eye like that Very briefly, she considered an apotheosis a synthesis a rendering of her folly into solidarity ((( To believe that a world-wide lay down of arms is possible, however, is the delusion of the pacifist; the dream of the optimist; and the joke of the realist. Diplomacy only goes so far, and in spite of our efforts to fight with words- there are times when drawing swords of a very different nature are surely called for. ))) Experiencing the subsequent sunrise inhaling and drinking breaking mirrors and regurgitating just to start again all in all I was just another gash in the bark ((( Plato once said: 'Only the dead have seen the end of war.' Perhaps the death of us all is called for in this time of emotional desperation. War is a product of the mind; only with the death of such will come the end of the bloodshed. Though this may be a fairly realistic view of such an issue, perhaps there is an optimistic outlook on the horizon. Not every sword is double edged, but every coin is double sided. ))) Leaving town and throwing shit out the window drinking boroughs and borrowing spare change I glimpsed the rear view mirror stole a glimpse really I've believed in looking back for a while it helps to have one last view a reminder in case one ever decides to rebel in the event the self regresses and makes the declaration of devastation once more ((( Thus, if we wish to eliminate the threat of war today- complete human annihilation may be called for. )))