Quotes & Sayings About Caring For Him

Annabeth realized that if six of them went on these two quests, it would leave Percy alone on the ship with Coach Hedge, which was maybe not a situation a caring girlfriend should put him in. Nor was she eager to let Percy out of her sight again - not after they'd been apart for so many months. — Rick Riordan

Blind luck, to arrive in the world with your properly formed parts in the right place, to be born to parents who were loving, not cruel, or to escape, by geographical or social accident, war or poverty. And therefore to find it so much easier to be virtuous. For a while, the case had left her numb, caring less, feeling less, going about her business, telling no one. But she became squeamish about bodies, barely able to look at her own or Jack's without feeling repelled. How was she to talk about this? Hardly plausible, to have told him that at this stage of a legal career, this one case among so many others, its sadness, its visceral — Ian McEwan

Do you like him much?'
I told you I liked him a little. Where is the use of caring for him so very much: he is full of faults.'
Is he?'
All boys are. — Charlotte Bronte

Caring for your heart is also how you protect your relationship with God ... [The heart] is where we commune with him. It is where we hear his voice. Most of the folks I know who have never heard God speak to them are the same folks who live far from their hearts. — John Eldredge

I want to kiss him for caring enough to be jealous, and smack the shit out of him for being so jealous he's almost blind with it. — Kristen Proby

She turned around and said, "Is there anything I can do?"
It was the only thing she could have said that he couldn't answer with anger, which frustrated Janner even more. If she had asked what was wrong, he would have hurled a perfectly sassy reply right back at her. If she had told him to cheer up, he would have grouched something about how cheery he'd be if he had played with puppies all day. If she had tried to be silly to cheer him up, he would have barked that he was sorry he wasn't in the mood for games.
But "Is there anything I can do?" poured cool water on his fire. It told him that she cared. It told him that she saw he needed something, even if she didn't know what. It told him that she hurt with him. — Andrew Peterson

When I finally calmed down, I handed her the Ewok. "Can you go back and give it to him" I said. "Oh, honey," she answered. "That's so sweet of you. But Isabel can clean the Lego set. It'll be good as new for Auggie, don't worry." "No, for the other kid," I answered. She looked at me a second, like she didn't know what to say. "Via said he doesn't speak any English," I sai. "It must be really scary for him, being in the hospital." She nodded slowly. "Yeah," she whispered. "It must be." She closed her eyes and hugged me again. And then she took me over to the security desk, where I waited until she went back up the elevator and, after about five minutes, came back down again. "Did he like it?" I asked. "Honeyboy," she said softly, brushing the hair out of my eyes. "You made his day. — R.J. Palacio

I was bitterly resentful, but somehow greatly relieved. And I respected him enormously for his clarity of thought, his obvious caring, and his unwillingness to equivocate in delivering bad news. — Kay Redfield Jamison

Mental illness doesn't cause abusiveness any more than alcohol does. What happens is rather that the man's psychiatric problem interacts with his abusiveness to form a volatile combination. If he is severely depressed, for example, he may stop caring about the consequences his actions may cause him to suffer, which can increase the danger that he will decide to commit a serious attack against his partner or children. A mentally ill abuser has two separate - though interrelated - problems, just as the alcoholic or drug-addicted one does. — Lundy Bancroft

Male rats don't experience the hormonal changes that trigger maternal behavior in female rats. They never normally participate in infant care. Yet put a baby rat in a cage with a male adult and after a few days he will be caring for the baby almost as if he were its mother. He'll pick it up, nestle it close to him as a nursing female would, keep the baby rat clean and comforted, and even build a comfy nest for it.29 The parenting circuits are there in the male brain, even in a species in which paternal care doesn't normally exist.30 If a male rat, without even the aid of a William Sears baby-care manual, can be inspired to parent then I would suggest that the prospects for human fathers are pretty good. — Cordelia Fine

He'd seen her not really recognising him, not really, when it came down to it, caring who he was. It was disgusting, that pain could do that. What was the point of it, except to shame and disgust everyone? To make a mockery of love? If that was God then fuck God, whether there was a reason for it or not. If there was a reason then fuck the reason. No kind of reason he was interested in any more. — Glen Duncan

The prideful man qualifies himself by what people think of him, always looking for applause. There is another proud man; head bloodied by the world but eyes focused on what is good, never caring about spectators or the cost. He is proud that his wife can laugh, that his children can play, humbled by their love for him. His prayers say, "Please make me worthy of them" - In humility lies the foundation of strength. — Lee Goff

It should begin with friendship, I think. Suddenly I cannot look at him.
It should begin with friendship and truly knowing who a person is, knowing his flaws and hopes and strengths and fears, knowing all of it. And admiring and caring for- loving the person because of all of those things ...
I know that now. — Lisa Ann Sandell

The second guy I met on the Internet was Tom, who I dated for around 6 months, which is by far the longest relationship I've ever had as an adult. We long distance dated mostly, chatting everyday for a long time on FB chat and Skype. It's hard to imagine a more genuinely caring and kind individual. I owe a lot to him. — Marie Calloway

Take special care that thou never trust any friend or servant with any matter that may endanger thine estate; for so shalt thou make thyself a bond-slave to him that thou trustest, and leave thyself always to his mercy. — Walter Raleigh

Do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?
If so, do you tell this person he is "too serious," or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?
If you answered yes to these questions, chances are that you have an introvert on your hands - and that you aren't caring for him properly. — Jon Rauch

The choices a writer makes within a tradition - preferring Milton to Moliere, caring for Barth over Barthelme - constitute some of the most personal information we can have about him. — Zadie Smith

She was pleased her husband still thought her attractive, despite her beached-whale state, but was finding it increasingly awkward to accommodate him. The spirit was willing but the flesh was swollen. Still, she enjoyed the compliment and understood that there was no real demand behind the caresses. The earl knew her well enough to realize she valued his desire almost as much as his love. After a lifetime of feeling ugly and unworthy, Alexia was now tolerably assured that Conall genuinely did want her, even if they could do nothing about it at present. She also understood that he was expressing his conjugal interest partly out of knowledge of her own need for such assurances. A werewolf and a buffoon, her husband, but wonderfully caring once he'd blundered into the way of it. — Gail Carriger

Practically every mental health care practitioner, from the most erudite psychoanalysts to untrained self-help gurus, tell us that it is infinitely more fulfilling and we are all saner if we tell the truth, yet most of us are not rushing to stand up and be counted among the truth tellers. Indeed, as someone committed to being honest in daily life I experience the constant drag of being seen as a 'freak,' for telling the truth, even when I speak truthfully about simple matters. If a friend gives me a gift and asks me to tell him or her whether I like it, I will respond honestly and judiciously; that is to say I will speak the truth in a positive, caring manner. Yet even in this situation, the person who asks for honesty will often express annoyance when given a truthful response. — Bell Hooks

She touched his cheek. "I wondered what love felt like," she said. "Now I know." He crushed her to his chest again. There was no pretense with her. He kissed her again, not caring to hold back the depth of his love. His breathing was ragged when he raised his head. "Oh Addie, Addie, what did I do before you came into my life?" Tears shone on her lashes. "I don't think I lived before tonight." "We must be married. Quite soon, darling girl. I can't wait for long." "I'd marry you tonight," she said. "Right now." He traced the curve of her cheek with his finger. "I'll ask your father for your hand tonight." A shadow darkened the joy in her eyes. "What about Lord Carrington?" "What about him?" "Father seems quite set on a match with him." She wet her lips. "I've been thinking about what you said. That God might be disciplining him. You might be right. — Colleen Coble

The symptoms of abuse are there, and the woman usually sees them: the escalating frequency of put-downs. Early generosity turning more and more to selfishness. Verbal explosions when he is irritated or when he doesn't get his way. Her grievances constantly turned around on her, so that everything is her own fault. His growing attitude that he knows what is good for her better than she does. And, in many relationships, a mounting sense of fear or intimidation. But the woman also sees that her partner is a human being who can be caring and affectionate at times, and she loves him. She wants to figure out why he gets so upset, so that she can help him break his pattern of ups and downs. She gets drawn into the complexities of his inner world, trying to uncover clues, moving pieces around in an attempt to solve an elaborate puzzle. — Lundy Bancroft

I'm in love with him, & I think I've known that for a long time, but now I can't stop myself from admitting it. I love the way he dances for me, trying to make me laugh, not caring if he looks a little like a fool. He is adorable and charming, and the breath leaves my lungs and my heart forgets to beat, moment after moment.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him. — Megan Hart

I knew that to really minister to Rwanda's needs meant working toward reconciliation in the prisons, in the churches, and in the cities and villages throughout the country. It meant feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, caring for the young, but it also meant healing the wounded and forgiving the unforgivable.
I knew I had to be committed to preaching a transforming message to the people of Rwanda. Jesus did not die for people to be religious. He died so that we might believe in Him and be transformed. I'm engaged in a purpose and strategy that Jesus came to Earth for. My life is set for that divine purpose in Jesus Christ. I was called to that
proclaiming the message of transformation through Jesus Christ. — John Rucyahana

Jesus Christ's guidance is available, but nobody is caring for him. They have taken Jesus Christ as contractor to take up their sins. That is their philosophy. They commit all kinds of sins, and poor Jesus Christ will be responsible. That is their religion. Therefore they say, "We have a very good religion. For all our sinful activities, Jesus Christ will die." Is that good religion? They have no sympathy for Jesus Christ. If they did they would think, "He died for our sins. Why should we commit sins again? Such a great life has been sacrificed for our sins, so we should be guided by Jesus Christ." But they take it otherwise: "Ah, I shall go on committing all sins, and Jesus Christ has made a contract to nullify all my sins; I'll simply go to the church and confess and come back and again do all nonsense." Do you think that shows very good intelligence? Bob: No. — A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada

I asked him to leave because he stopped caring for me, stopped supporting me. Not because I'd stopped caring for him. — Louise Penny

He'd have denied it to his dying breath but Derwent wasn't as tough as he pretended to be. For the very small number of people he cared about, Derwent would give his all. It made him vulnerable, and every now and then that vulnerability showed. — Jane Casey

By assigning his political rights to the state the individual also delegates his social responsibilities to it: he asks the state to relieve him of the burden of caring for the poor precisely as he asks for protection against criminals. The difference between pauper and criminal disappears - both stand outside society. — Hannah Arendt

Is this how you will die? Is this what you were meant for? To simply be bled out like a pig?
A spark of rage flickers, an antidote to despair.
Will you not even try to survive? Did the scientists make you too stupid even to consider fighting for your own life?
Emiko closes her eyes and prays to Mizuko Jizo Bodhisattva, and then the bakeneko cheshire spirit for good measure. She takes a breath, and then with all her strength she slams her hand against the knife. The blade slices past her neck, a searing line.
"Arai wa?!" the man shouts.
Emiko shoves hard against him and ducks under his flailing knife. Behind her, she hears a grunt and thud as she bolts for the street. She doesn't look back. She plunges into the street, not caring that she shows herself as a windup, not caring that in running she will burn up and die. She runs, determined only to escape the demon behind her. She will burn, but she will not die passive like some pig led to slaughter. — Paolo Bacigalupi

A man dies and his skin loses heat like the sand on a summer evening. It makes you feel like warming him up. — Erri De Luca

He has a very nice face and style, really," said Mrs. Kenwigs.
"He certainly has," added Miss Petowker. "There's something in his appearance quite
dear, dear, what's the word again?"
"What word?" inquired Mr. Lillyvick.
"Why
dear me, how stupid I am!" replied Miss Petowker, hesitating. "What do you call it when lords break off doorknockers, and beat policemen, and play at coaches with other people's money, and all that sort of thing?"
"Aristocratic?" suggested the collector.
"Ah! Aristocratic," replied Miss Petowker; "something very aristocratic about him, isn't there?"
The gentlemen held their peace, and smiled at each other, as who should say, "Well! there's no accounting for tastes;" but the ladies resolved unanimously that Nicholas had an aristocratic air, and nobody caring to dispute the position, it was established triumphantly. — Charles Dickens

The unmeasured hopes and fears of middle-class sufferers were often a none-too-subtle kind of transference. They invested the physician with all the attributes of a caring, all-knowing father, almost a manufactured deity, only to be disappointed over and over again. With them, expectations of the physician's omnipotence alternated with contempt for his impotence, and they irrationally idolized or irrationally execrated him. — Peter Gay

And hating himself for caring after everything she'd done to him. — James Dashner

You know that half the girls in school would have been after you."
He gave a soft laugh. "If they were into someone who was flunking out ... I don't think I'd do too well with having to go to class when a bell rings or caring about homework ... "
"A bad boy
even better. You'd have done well in Spanish class."
"If I ever went to it."
We lay in silence for a awhile; Alex's arms felt so warm and safe that I was starting to get sleepy. "Say something in Spanish," I mumbled.
He kissed my hair. "Te amo, Willow," he said quietly.
I came awake, smiling into the darkness. "What does that mean?" I whispered.
I could almost hear his own smile. "What do you think it means?"
I hugged him, kissing his collarbone and wondering if it was possible to actually die of happiness. "Te amo, Alex. — L.A. Weatherly

The thought of hurting him ripped me apart. Ripped me so totally, that I knew, I cared more for him than I did myself. — Samantha Young

Her gaze slid up the thick muscles of his arm, imagining her hand doing the same, imagining what it would feel like to explore a body of such raw, masculine energy. No doubt about it, he was man built for battle. Yet she could seein his sharp, dark eyes, and in the glimpses of humor and caring he'd let slip, that there was so much more to him than the fight. — Melissa Cutler

I do not believe in a God who would set up rules and commandments only to wait for us to fail so He could punish us. I believe in a Heavenly Father who is loving and caring and who rejoices in our every effort to stand tall and walk toward Him. Even when we stumble, He urges us not to be discouraged-never to give up or flee our allotted field of service-but to take courage, find our faith, and keep trying. — Dieter F. Uchtdorf

When an archer is shooting for nothing, he has all his skill. If he shoots for a brass buckle, he is already nervous. If he shoots for a prize of gold, he goes blind or sees two targets - He is out of his mind! His skill has not changed. But the prize divides him. He cares. He thinks more of winning than of shooting- And the need to win drains him of power. — Zhuangzi

I once knew of a girl whose story forms the substance of the diary. Whether he has seduced others I do not know ... we learn of his desire for something altogether arbitrary. With the help of his mental gifts he knew how to tempt a girl to draw her to him without caring to possess her in any stricter sense.
I can imagine him able to bring a girl to the point where he was sure she would sacrifice all then he would leave without a word let a lone a declaration a promise.
The unhappy girl would retain the consciousness of it with double bitterness because there was not the slightest thing she could appeal to. She could only be constantly tossed about in a terrible witches' dance at one moment reproaching herself forgiving him at another reproaching him and then since the relationship would only have been actual in a figurative sense she would constantly have to contend with the doubt that the whole thing might only have been an imagination. — Soren Kierkegaard

Praying to God involves both us and God. God wants us to participate in what he is doing, and for sure one of the main ways we participate in what he is doing is by prayer. We can also participate in what he is doing by feeding the hungry and helping the poor and caring for the sick and giving of our resources to those who have little. God wants us to partner with him. So there is a paradox at work, and a mystery. On the one hand, the Bible says that apart from God we can do nothing. And yet, on the other hand, God invites us to do some things with him. This is at the heart of the mystery of prayer. God wants us to use our faith and to pray. But we can focus so much on the importance of our faith and our prayers that we forget about God and think it is our faith and our prayers that perform the miracle, rather than the God to whom we pray and in whom we have faith as we pray. — Eric Metaxas

Once upon a time there was a man with no heart. Drifting through black-and-white life, caring naught for those hurt, and never, ever allowing another near enough to hurt him. Until, on the least likely day, the most unlikely place, the man with no heart met the most surprising person. He was fearless. He was strength and power. He wore his heart boldly on his sleeve. The man with no heart began, shockingly, to feel a movement in his breast. A stretching, a slow, steady beat ... — Shannon Noelle Long

The intelligent and good man holds in his affections the good and true of every land
the boundaries of countries are not the limitations of his sympathies. Caring nothing for race, or color, he loves those who speak other languages and worship other gods. Between him and those who suffer, there is no impassable gulf. He salutes the world, and extends the hand of friendship to the human race. He does not bow before a provincial and patriotic god
one who protects his tribe or nation, and abhors the rest of mankind. — Robert Green Ingersoll

He kisses me and for that kiss, for that moment, I forget how worried I am. It comes back, of course, but with Caleb, I feel more whole - I am more whole - than I have been since Mom died.
I love him.
I love him because of who he is, who he really is past what everyone else sees; the lost boy, the druggie, the car thief. I love him because he is strong and caring. I love him because he broke and put himself back together again. I love him because he is beautiful inside and out.
I love him for being here with me. I love him for not telling me that everything will be all right. I love him because he knows what life is like, what it can do, and is always honest about it. — Elizabeth Scott

Dylan Jerome," the lawyer admits, "wanted to sue God for not caring enough about him. — Jodi Picoult

In his book Where Was God? Erwin Lutzer writes, Often the same people who ask where God was following a disaster thanklessly refuse to worship and honor Him for years of peace and calmness. They disregard God in good times, yet think He is obligated to provide help when bad times come. They believe the God they dishonor when they are well should heal them when they are sick; the God they ignore when they are wealthy should rescue them from impending poverty; and the God they refuse to worship when the earth is still should rescue them when it begins to shake. We must admit that God owes us nothing. Before we charge God with not caring, we must thank Him for those times when His care is very evident. We are ever surrounded by undeserved blessings. Even in His silence, He blesses us. — David Jeremiah

He had never admitted he had a problem, and maybe if he had she would have stayed longer or tried harder. As it was, she simply felt free now. Being with him had been a long, slow suffocation. Caring for someone who didn't care one bit about changing was like being frayed thin. He hadn't wanted what she had to give. She wasn't really sure what it would be like to — Lauren Blakely

It was Leslie who had taken him from the cow pasture into Terabithia and turned him into a king. He had thought that was it. Wasn't king the best you could be? Now it occurred to him that perhaps Terabithia was like a castle where you came to be knighted. After you stayed for a while and grew strong you had to move on. For hadn't Leslie, even in Terabithia, tried to push back the walls of his mind and make him see beyond to the shining world - huge and terrible and beautiful and very fragile? (Handle with care - everything - even the predators.)
Now it was time for him to move out. She wasn't there, so he must go for both of them. It was up to him to pay back to the world in beauty and caring what Leslie had loaned him in vision and strength.
As for the terrors ahead - for he did not fool himself that they were all behind him - well, you just have to stand up to your fear and not let it squeeze you white. Right, Leslie?
Right. — Katherine Paterson

The cloud of caring for nothing, which overshadowed him with such a fatal darkness, was very rarely pierced by the light within him. — Charles Dickens

What we do is inherently self-centered and sort of narcissistic. It's hard to really be thinking about myself all of the time when I have a dog who needs me to be caring for him twenty-four seven. — Bitsie Tulloch

See, you do care about him! Sarah, what Nolan Walker needs is a good wife to encourage him, to see that he eats properly, make sure he gets his rest." The picture Prissy had painted of Sarah as devoted wife, caring for Nolan, was a very appealing one. But she couldn't dwell on it, because Prissy wasn't done. "When are you going to get off your lofty perch and let yourself love him?" she went on. "That excuse that he's a Yankee's wearing a little thin by now, don't you think?" Sarah stared at her as they had reached their little cottage and went in. She hung up her coat with a sigh, then took Prissy's coat and hung it up, too. "Dr. Walker and I have become friends. But how can he and I be anything more if he's not a believer? The Bible warns about being unequally yoked, you know." Prissy groaned exasperatedly. "Sarah Matthews, if you gave that man the slightest bit of encouragement, he'd be sitting in the front pew every Sunday morning, and you know it. — Laurie Kingery

There was a small boy on crutches. I do not know his name, and I suspect I never will. But I will never forget his face, his smile, his sorrow. He is one of the millions robbed of hope and dignity by charlatans discussed in this book. Wherever and whoever he is, I apologize to him for not having been able to protect him from such an experience. I humbly dedicate this book to him and to the many others who have suffered because the rest of us began caring too late. — James Randi

Tyler?" Brayden asked, and Tyler shook his head to clear thoughts that were going way too fast for him. "Sorry, yes, we'll just deal with my issues now," Tyler finally answered. "But, whatever it is that's bothering you, I hope you know I'll help if you need it." "I don't know if I like this new caring-brother thing you're doing." "Hey, I've always been caring, just a bit of an ass at times." "At times?" Brayden smiled. — Carrie Ann Ryan

We must admit that God owes us nothing. Before we charge God with not caring, we must thank Him for those times when His care is very evident. We are ever surrounded by undeserved blessings. Even in His silence, He blesses us.[8] — David Jeremiah

LOVE is measured in GAUGE TWENTY- specifically, love pressure in the surrounding area. If it drops below four percent, though, you may have trouble-the VW might get sad, slow down, or even stop altogether. If this occurs, you have to immediately find/write a story that somehow convinces him that there is more love, caring or compassion in the area than he thinks there is. I can't tell you how many times this has been a problem for us- how many trips were interrupted because I had to head into the nearest populated town to see if we could find examples of kindness. — Christopher Boucher

Lately, I usually write at the desk in my living-room or bedroom. From time to time, our red and stripy cat named Foxy decides to be my companion, poking his curious caramel-colored nose to the screen, watching me typing, and making attempts to put his paws on the keyboard despite the fact that he knows he is not allowed to; he also loves to arrange "sunbathing sessions for himself, purring joyfully while lying with his belly up under the lamp placed to the left of my computer; and, of course, the cat can't wait for when I happen to have a snack, to beg for some treats that seem to him tastiest if eaten from a caring human's hand. — Sahara Sanders

The line in the sand was drawn. A man did not sleep with his friend, especially not a man like him, one utterly incapable of caring for a woman outside of the bedroom. He couldn't treat Cass that way. He would not touch the friend. No licking the friend, either. If he could get away with not looking at her, he'd do it. — Dee Tenorio

You were just a beautiful woman. Now you're my beautiful woman. What you got under your clothes is for me. No one else. They don't look. They don't touch. That's the deal. Yeah?"
I stared at him, speechless, which was a good thing because if I had words, I would have said them so loudly the neighbors would hear.
"Now," he went on, either not feeling or not caring about the badder than bad vibes emanating from me directly toward him, "go put on a tank."
That's when I found my words.
"Maybe I should go put on my ragged white dress and stone necklace and you can put on your leopard skin tunic and we can pedal in our stone car to the roadhouse before you go bowling with Barney and I go shopping with Betty, Fred. — Kristen Ashley

He did not defy convention: when it did not interfere with whatever line of conduct he meant to pursue he conformed to it; and when it did he ignored it, affably conceding to his critics their right to censure him, if they felt so inclined, and caring neither for their praise nor their blame. — Georgette Heyer

I ached for him, my stomach twisting painfully. He looked so desolate standing there alone facing a mad queen and several thousand angry fey. His voice was flat and resigned, as if he'd been pushed into a corner and had given up, not caring what happened next. — Julie Kagawa

That little bird has chosen his shelter. Above it are the stars and the deep heaven of worlds. Yet he is rocking himself to sleep without caring for tomorrow's lodging, calmly clinging to his little twig, and leaving God to think for him. — Martin Luther

I want to know now," I whine, not caring that I sound like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum.

"How about this? We'll Rock, Paper, Scissors for it."

Yeah, we're going to make great parents, all right.

"Fine." I crack my knuckles, which makes him snicker. "Ready?"

"Ready."

We count in unison. On three, we reveal our hands. He did paper. I did rock.

"I win," he says smugly.

"Sorry, baby, but you lose."

"Paper covers rock!"

I smirk. "Rock weighs down the paper so it can't fly away. It traps it."

A loud sigh fills the room. "I'm not going to win on this, am I?"

"Nope." But he looks so cute right now that I offer a compromise. "How about this? You can leave the room while the doctor tells me, and I swear I won't give it away. I'll hide all my baby purchases in my closet so you can't see what I'm buying."

"Deal — Elle Kennedy

Sir Templeton was not feeling himself last night," said Aunt Saffronia, her eyes flicking from plate to Jane and back to plate, "so Mr. Nobley offered to accompany him to see an apothecary in town, and Colonel Andrews went as well, having some business to attend to there. They are so attentive, such honest, caring lads. I shall feel their loss when they leave."
"I feel it today." Miss Charming pursed her lips. "Eating breakfast with no gentlemen and that Heartwright girl poaching on my men
this isn't what I was promised." She looked at Aunt Saffronia with the eye of a haggler.
Aunt Saffronia placed her hands in her lap, a calming gesture. "I know, my dear, but they will be back, and in the meantime ... "
"I didn't come here for the meantime. I came for the men. — Shannon Hale

Since Monday, it has been raining buoyant summer rain shot through with sun, but dark at night and full of sound, full of dripping leaves, watery chimings, sleepless scuttlings. Billy Bob is wide-awake, dry-eyed, though everything he does is a little frozen and his tongue is as stiff as a bell tongue. It has not been easy for him, Miss Bobbit's going. Because she'd meant more than that. Than what? Than being thirteen years old and crazy in love. She was the queer things in him, like the pecan tree and liking books and caring enough about people to let them hurt him. She was the things he was afraid to show anyone else. And in the dark the music trickled through the rain: won't there be nights when we will hear it just as though it were really there? And afternoons when the shadows will be all at once confused, and she will pass before us, unfurling across the lawn like a pretty piece of ribbon? — Truman Capote

With all his greatness and accomplishments on the guitar, Dime will be missed more for his giving personality, charisma, caring for others, love and most of all his HEART!! Twice as big as the state of TEXAS!!!!!!!!!!!! Dime gave it all every day to each and every one of us and our lives have forever been hollowed without him ... Thanks to all of you for reaching out to us in this time of our immeasurable loss. REST IN PEACE BROTHER DIME!!!!!! — Vinnie Paul

You were great tonight, helping with Candice's wound and the funeral ceremony for Chaz ... such as it was."
"I only did what needed doing, and as for your friend's funeral, it was a beautiful good-bye you all gave him," she murmured. "Simple but pure. You honored him well, Kellan."
The phrase she used - one reserved for the solemnest occasions in Breed traditions - touched him in a way he couldn't express. Instead, he tipped her chin up on the edge of his hand and kissed her. Not the hungered kind of kiss that they'd been sharing each time they'd connected since her arrival back in his life a few days ago but a kiss shaped by tender caring and gratitude, by profound respect ... and, yes, love.
He loved this woman.
His woman. — Lara Adrian

I want him to be my Edward -- taking care of me, always. Watching over me, day or night, unsleeping. Keeping me safe, by his side. Caring for me with a passion so pure it can't be corrupted by time or distance or seduction. I know Edward is only fiction. But that doesn't have to mean love like his can only be found in books and movies or rooted in the misty world of dreams. — Ellen Hopkins

He stepped close to her; she could feel his breath on her neck. "Eve, you make me not want to die."
She turned to see his face. "I didn't want to be this, and now it's all I am."
He put his hands on her cheeks. The look on his face did her in. He was kind, caring, and mourning her losses. Tears wet his cheeks. Eve felt a very deep sob choke her. If he was mourning, so could she.
He pulled her into his arms. "Cry. It's okay. Cry."
Eve felt her knees give. He caught her and carried her to his couch. He petted her hair and let her empty her pain and guilt onto his chest. He kissed the top of her head. For the first time, his actions toward her seemed to have no sexual intent whatsoever.
Eve let go of a rope she'd clung to for too long. And she fell. She fell right into him. Wrong or right, she gave up judging. Her lips found his, and he kissed her gently, not demanding any more than she was willing to offer. — Debra Anastasia

Shortcoming - another one of my shortcomings. I rubbed my brows with my thumb and forefinger. I'd been equally foolish for feeling a shred of pity for him - for the lone, brooding faerie, for someone I had so stupidly thought would really care if he met someone who perhaps felt the same, perhaps understood - in my ignorant, insignificant human way - what it was like to bear the weight of caring for others. I should have let his hand bleed that night, should have known better than to think that maybe - maybe there would be someone, human or faerie or whatever, who could understand what my life - what I - had become these past few years. — Sarah J. Maas

I married him for a green card. We had a really great, caring relationship; it just obviously wasn't right for me. — Portia De Rossi

Lily slumped, putting her shaking hands on his shoulders. "But you will, won't you?" Pansy's voice broke into a sob.
"Yes, Pan," Galen said quietly.
"I don't like that," Pansy said. Galen stood and put his arms around the fine-boned girl, while Rose continued to comfort Lily. Oliver looked away. It was such a private moment; he hated to intrude on it. Galen was beloved by all of the sisters, but the love between him and Rose was so clear and shining that it hurt to look at them, spending their last hours together caring for the other girls. — Jessica Day George

He went through the old motions of his life, taking care of what needed caring for, keeping mostly quiet about what was on his mind. But his hard waiting changed him; you could see it in his face. — Wendell Berry

What happen to ladies first?" Lilly teased, just trying to expel her nervous energy. She knew what the answer was but she just needed something to keep her busy for a few minutes before she saw the man she had once loved with every fiber of her being.
"I don't know what idiot thought it was smarter to let a woman enter a room before him. How does he know if it is safe for her to enter if he doesn't not check it out himself? It's actually a much more caring act to go before her, therefore ensuring that nothing will harm her," Decebel explained, his tone of voice at first sounded with disgust and then it was almost tender when he finished speaking. — Quinn Loftis

As a girl, Mira had held his hand and led him out of a dark place. As a woman, she'd held his heart, despite his efforts to prove himself from caring for someone he could never bear to lose. Now he only hoped he'd find the strength to push Mira away, when all he wanted was to pull her close and never let her go. — Lara Adrian

Furthermore, consider that as one of its most important purposes, stewardship of creation should sustain nature's worshiping capacity. The more I reflect on Scriptures and the more I sense how God thrills to the adoration He receives from all that He has created, the more I realize He has given us the awesome responsibility of caring for His creation so that it can go on praising Him until the end of time. — Tony Campolo

With that, I hurled the slipper at him, not caring if I caused his decapitation. (I did not.) Marshaling what little dignity I yet possessed, I stomped down the corridor - challenging indeed with one shoe - and around the corner. I lay awake for hours. The prince had no right, not one, to indict me so, and if I had held the slightest hope of the book's assistance, I would have climbed at once to my wizard room for a spell with which to punish him. Death, perhaps, or humiliation. A croaking frog would be nice, particularly a frog that retained Florian's dark eyes. I should keep it in a box and poke it occasionally with a stick; that would be satisfying indeed. — Catherine Gilbert Murdock

He knew what it was then that Liz had given him; the thing that he would have to go back and find if ever he got home to England: it was the caring about little things - the faith in ordinary life; the simplicity that made you break up a bit of bread into a paper bag, walk down to the beach, and throw it to the gulls. It was this respect for triviality which he had never been allowed to possess; whether it was bread for the seagulls or love, whatever it was he would go back and find it; he would make Liz find it for him. — John Le Carre

This was maybe the first time she'd done it when she'd felt the true intimacy of it. The first time she'd done it because she wanted to express her feelings for a guy in some new way she hadn't before. The first time it meant something.
The fact was, sex with a man she cared for was making all other sex pale in comparison. No wonder sex with Mike had been the best of her life from the very start - caring for him had been ... destiny.
Destiny in Destiny. — Toni Blake

I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so wrapped up in someone that I saw only him, caring not a jot what onlookers might think. I ached with nostalgia for a younger, more responsive me, who seemed to feel things more intensely. — Catherine Sanderson

I knew the man up until our divorce - after that I didn't know the man, but it didn't stop me caring about him and worrying because of the complete change that I saw in him. He'd lost his sense of humour and he got aggressive; he wasn't for the world any more, he was just for Yoko. Before that he opened his arms and embraced the world with his wit and humour - afterwards he was a completely different kind of person. — Cynthia Lennon

I'm pretty caring, loyal and loving to those who are close to me. Two of my friends are from school, so I've known them for more than 30 years. My best friend, Paul Fisher, sat next to me in English when I was ten or 11. If you asked him, he'd say I was loyal. I don't think I've changed over the years. — Marc Warren

I don't know what idiot thought it was smarter to let a woman enter a room before him. How does he know if it is safe for her to enter if he does not check it out himself? It's actually a much more caring act to go before her, therefore ensuring that nothing will harm her, — Quinn Loftis

He was not in love yet, but he realized that he was an attractive quantity to women, and that the fact of a woman caring for him and wanting to live with him was not simply a divine miracle. — Ernest Hemingway,

With a scream of rage, Lada abandoned her learned moves, her careful training. She flew at him like a wild boar, all fury and animal instinct. He did not know where to block because her blows made no sense, her movements had no grace. She slashed at his face, and when he grabbed her wrists, she bit his hand, clenching her jaw, teeth clamping onto bone. She kept her teeth in him as he shook her, slamming the dagger into his side again and again, following him as he fell away from her, trying to break free. She stayed on top, stabbing, not caring where she hit, not going for a careful, efficient blow. An animal scream, muffled by his hand, continued from her throat. — Kiersten White

In a time of disorder [Laertes] has returned to the care of the earth, the foundation of life and hope. And Odysseus finds him in an act emblematic of the best and most responsible kind of agriculture: an old man caring for a young tree. (pg. 123, The Body and the Earth) — Wendell Berry

The boy nodded, unperturbed that his father, his mentor, could always find fault, even in success. The boy knew that his beloved father did so only because it forced him to strive for perfection. And in a dangerous galaxy, perfection allowed for survival. The boy loved his father even more for caring enough to criticize. — R.A. Salvatore

But that is not to say that there might not be someone in the world - I do not say I have seen him yet - whom I would be a little afraid to look at sometimes - for fear that he might be looking sad - or lost - or thoughtful, or - what, you know, might seem the worst of all - brooding on some private anger or hurt and so not knowing or caring if I looked at him at all. — Susanna Clarke

Her abdomen clenched as he thrust hard once, filling her completely. Surprising her, he didn't start thrusting, but remained still inside her as he continued kissing her.
She could kiss the sexy man for hours, be consumed by the taste and feel of him.
"Move, damn it," she gasped. She was aware the demand sounded a lot like begging. She was beyond caring. She needed more, more, more. — Katie Reus

But on the way home tonight, you wish you'd picked him up, held him a bit. Just held him, very close to your heart, his cheek by the hollow of your shoulder, full of sleep. As it it were you who could, somehow, save him. For the moment not caring who you're supposed to be registered as. For the moment, anyway, no longer who the Caesars say you are. — Thomas Pynchon

I'm so proud of you, Douggie," Sierra says, throwing herself on him. They start making out immediately, not caring who's watching or about Fairfield's PDA policy.
"I love you," Doug says when they come up for air.
"I love you, too," Sierra coos in a baby voice.
"Get a room," another classmate calls out. — Simone Elkeles

He knew then what it was that Liz had given him; the thing that he would have to go back and find if ever he got home to England; it was the caring about little things - the faith in ordinary life; the simplicity that made you break up a bit of bread into a paper bag, walk down to the beach and throw it to the gulls. It was this respect for triviality which he had never been allowed to possess; whether it was bread of the seagulls or love — John Le Carre

She'd so believed he could - that decades marked by disdain for emotion could have been nothing more than a faint memory in his checkered past. That she could love him enough to prove to him that the world was worth his caring, his trust. That she could turn him into the man of whom she had dreamed for so long.
That was perhaps the hardest truth of all - that Ralston, the man she'd pined over for a decade, had never been real. He'd never been the strong and silent Odysseus; he'd never been aloof Darcy; never Antony, powerful and passionate. He had only ever been Ralston, arrogant and flawed and altogether flesh and blood. — Sarah MacLean

Love, what is love? I don't think you can really put it into words. Love is understanding someone, caring for him, sharing his joys and sorrows. This eventually includes physical love. You've shared something, given something away and received something in return, whether or not you're married, whether or not you have a baby. Losing your virtue doesn't matter, as long as you know that for as long as you live you'll have someone at your side who understands you, and who doesn't have to be shared with anyone else! — Anne Frank