Doing It Better Than Her Quotes & Sayings

The woman who makes a sweet, beautiful home, filling it with love and prayer and purity, is doing something better than anything else her hands could find to do beneath the skies. — J.R. Miller

She brooded not only about how to tackle her father, but also about what, precisely, she was setting out to do. Test the fire-repellent properties of her discovery. Toward killing dragons. Did she really want to kill dragons? Yes. Why? Pause. To be doing something. To be doing something better than anyone else was doing it. She — Robin McKinley

To keep something, you must take care of it. More, you must understand just what sort of care it requires. You must know the rules and abide by them. She could do that. She had been doing it all the months, in the writing of her letters to him. There had been rules to be learned in that matter, and the first of them was the hardest: never say to him what you want him to say to you. Never tell him how sadly you miss him, how it grows no better, how each day without him is sharper than the day before. Set down for him the gay happenings about you, bright little anecdotes, not invented, necessarily, but attractively embellished. Do not bedevil him with the pinings of your faithful heart because he is your husband, your man, your love. For you are writing to none of these. You are writing to a soldier. — Dorothy Parker

It's not all gone. She loved someone before and so did I. The Society and the Rising and the world are all still out there, pressing against us. But Lei holds them away. She's made enough space for two people to stand up together, whether or not any Society or Rising says that they can. She's done it before. The amazing thing is that she's not afraid to do it again. When we fall in love the first time, we don't know anything. We risk a lot less than we do if we choose to love again.
There is something extraordinary about the first time falling.
But if feels even better to find myself standing on solid ground, with someone holding on to me, pulling me back, and know that I'm doing the same for her. — Ally Condie

Love is more than desire. It's more than passion and moonlight and poetry. Love is a choice you make; it's things you do. Love is holding hands when your wife's morning sickness is so bad she wants to die. It's forgiving when you're mad, and listening to her when you want to talk. It's rubbing her feet when she's tired and you want a whole lot more. It's seeing each other at your worst and choosing to overlook what you know is true because you believe they can be better. It's doing the right thing for the other person. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. That is love, Jaime. — Brandon Gray

You must have six boxes of cat food in that cupboard."
"Moshe gets cranky if I don't keep a variety."
After tasking his breakfast, Alan found it better than he had expected. "I have a hard time understanding anyone as strong-willed as you being intimidated by a temperamental cat."
Shelby lifted her shoulders and continued to eat. "We all have our weaknesses.Besides,as roommates go, he's perfect.He doesn't listen in on my phone calls or borrow my clothes."
"Are those your prerequisites?"
"They're certainly in the top ten."
Watching her,Alan nodded. She'd plowed hre way through the toast in record time. "If I promised to restrain myself from doing either of those things, would you marry me? — Nora Roberts

I am married, and the one charm of marriage is that it makes a life of deception absolutely necessary for both parties. I never know where my wife is, and my wife never knows what I am doing. When we meet--we do meet occasionally, when we dine out together, or go down to the Duke's--we tell each other the most absurd stories with the most serious faces. My wife is very good at it--much better, in fact, than I am. She never gets confused over her dates, and I always do. But when she does find me out, she makes no row at all. I sometimes wish she would; but she merely laughs at me. — Oscar Wilde

Growing up feels like your skin no longer fits. Like you just want to crawl out of that thinly stretched space and lay down in the grass and sob for hours. Instead, I am in a cafe eating lunch and trying not to scream. Looking around wondering if anyone else in this building is doing the same thing, wondering if they ever have and, if so, how they got through it. Maybe I would calm down if I just had the assurance that other people have looked in the mirror and no longer recognized themselves. Maybe if I could sit across the table from an elderly woman and have her tell me that she lived through days where the covers over her head felt even better than an embrace and weeks where she drank her tears to keep from wetting her shirt sleeves, but that those years shaped her into an iron skeleton with a tender heart. That "worth it" was an understatement. Maybe then I would feel okay. — Kalyn Roseanne Livernois

And Lynnie understood. There were two kinds of hope: the kind you couldn't do anything about and the kind you could. And even if the kind you could do something about wasn't what you'd originally wanted, it was still worth doing. A rainy day is better than no day. A small happiness can make a big sadness less sad.
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"The sky was crying outside, and as she watched the drops come down, she thought: A rainy day can actually be a very important day. And a small hope isn't really small if it makes a lost hope less sad."
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Lynnie about the lost hope of finding Homan, the hope of seeing the lighthouse/connecting with her daughter and how selling her art work was doing something about it. — Rachel Simon

Reaching into his pocket, he took out the amulet Isis had given him the night before, slipped it over Eve's neck.
"What's this for?"
"It looks better on you than me."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Bull. You're being superstitious."
"No, I'm not," he lied and set her plate in with his before he shifted and began to unbutton her shirt.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Passing the time." His hands, clever and quick, swooped down to take her breasts. "It'll take an hour to get there by car."
"I'm not having sex in the back of a limo," she told him. "It's
"
"Delicious," he finished and replaced his hands with his mouth. — J.D. Robb

I should have known you were no better than the rest of them. You are only a man, you do not have the ability to control yourself, but she," Lady Catherine nodded sagely, "she knew exactly what she was doing. Fluffing her feathers and shaking her tail for you! It was disgraceful! — Elizabeth Adams

If we weren't trying to control whether a person liked us or his or her reaction to us, what would we do differently? If we weren't trying to control the course of a relationship, what would we do differently? If we weren't trying to control another person's behavior, how would we think, feel, speak, and behave differently than we do now? What haven't we been letting ourselves do while hoping that self-denial would influence a particular situation or person? Are there some things we've been doing that we'd stop? How would we treat ourselves differently? Would we let ourselves enjoy life more and feel better right now? Would we stop feeling so bad? Would we treat ourselves better? If we weren't trying to control, what would we do differently? Make a list, then do it. — Melody Beattie

What was it, she wondered, this need to brandish his shiny new metropolitan life at her? As soon as she'd met him at the arrivals gate on his return from Thailand, lithe and brown and shaven-headed, she knew that there was no chance of a relationship between them. Too much had happened to him, too little had happened to her. Even so this would be the third girlfriend, lover, whatever, that she had met in the last nine months, Dexter presenting them up to her like a dog with a fat pigeon in his mouth. Was it some kind of some sick revenge for something? Because she got a better degree than him? Didn't he know what this was doing to her, sat at table nine with their groins jammed in each other's faces? — David Nicholls

It's really better this way, Ryan," Paige said with a sympathy that made me nauseous.
"Better for who?" he asked her. "For Jamie? For me? Or maybe just better for you. I can't believe you, Paige! You have no idea what she's been
through! Pain like you could never imagine! And you're throwing it in her face over and over again for what? Because I'd rather go out with her than
with you?
You call her the ice queen, but Jamie would never do something like that to anyone."
"But look at what she's doing to you," Paige said.
"She's done nothing but make me happy, and she's had to turn her entire life around just to do it.
You guys are the ones doing all the damage! — Kelly Oram

So then I thought, I'd like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you ever meet some veela when you're off doing whatever you're doing.'
I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest.'
There's a silver lining I've been looking for,' she whispered, and then she was kissing him as she never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back, and it was a blissful oblivion, better than firewhiskey; she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand on her back, the other in her long sweet-smelling hair ... — J.K. Rowling

Did God tell you to do this, Merry? Did he lead you in this direction?" Through the tears, Merry nodded again. "Then you have to believe he has it all under control. If it is his plan that you lose her, then you must face the fact that God knows best. We will pray that that is not in his plan. But, Merry, you know as well as anyone that God's plans are his own and no man understands his ways. We just have to trust him. It's hard to let him have control when you think he might change all you've ever known. Imagine what Abraham must have felt when God asked him to sacrifice his only son on an altar. At the last second, God stepped in by way of an angel and kept him from being obedient. Obedience is always better than sacrifice. You were obedient in doing what God has told you to do. You may also have to sacrifice, but we don't know that yet, do we? Trust God, sister. We'll all be praying for you. — Darlene Shortridge

That's amusing." Ardon was offended. "Why is it amusing?" "Because you're so pure and stainless you'd cross the street to keep from walking close to one of those women, and now God chooses one of them to save your life." "I don't think of it like that. As a matter of fact, maybe we made a mistake. I felt we were doing wrong just by being in her house." "From what you said there wasn't any other choice." "I should have found a better way." Ariel shook her head. "You're a stubborn man, brother. One of these days you're going to have to learn how to change your mind. Well, I can get a better story from Othniel than from you. — Gilbert Morris

What the fuck are you doing?" His hands wanted to hold her, his arms wanted to wrap her up, but he squeezed the edge of the bed. Whatever game she was playing, he wasn't going to fall for it. She wouldn't make him a fool. Not more than she already had. "I told you. Sweet is good. Sweet can be better. I don't think you know that." Her hands were around his face, and it made his chest tight. He didn't understand that, either. Coming here had not eased his confusion; he was more confused now than ever. Maybe ever in his whole motherfucking life. "Fuck you." She smiled. "Maybe. But sweet. — Susan Fanetti

Heaven preserve us! what a hotch-potch!" cried Hubert. "Is that what they are doing nowadays? I very seldom read a novel, but when I glance into one, I'm sure to find some such stuff as that! Nothing irritates me so as the flatness of people's imagination. Common life - I don't say it's a vision of bliss, but it's better than that! Their stories are like the underside of a carpet, - nothing but the stringy grain of the tissue - a muddle of figures without shape and flowers without color. When I read a novel my imagination starts off at a gallop and leaves the narrator hidden in a cloud of dust; I have to come jogging twenty miles back to the denouement. Your clergyman here with his Romish sweetheart must be a very pretty fellow. Why didn't he marry her first and convert her afterwards? Isn't a clergyman after all, before all, a man? I — Henry James

I'm reading,' said Bruno. 'What are you reading?' she asked him, and rather than answer he simply turned the cover towards her so she could see for herself. She made a raspberry sound through her lips and some of her spit landed on Bruno's face. 'Boring,' she said in a sing-song voice. 'It's not boring at all,' said Bruno. 'It's an adventure. It's better than dolls, that's for sure.' Gretel didn't rise to the bait on that one. 'What are you doing?' she repeated, irritating Bruno even further. 'I told you, I'm trying to read,' he said in a grumpy voice. 'If some people would just let me.' 'I've got nothing to do,' she replied. 'I hate the rain.' Bruno found this hard to understand. It wasn't as if she ever did anything anyway, unlike him, who had adventures and — John Boyne

When I see someone not performing, I am frank enough to tell the person that it's not working out. I request him or her to leave or change jobs within the group. But I see many of our senior colleagues, including my brothers, sons and nephews, empathetic towards non-performers. They don't want to face the issue. They tend to become comfortable with such people and they get protection. They tend to choose people who become personally loyal to them rather than to the company. I think it's important to be professional about such matters. Protecting a non-performer is not good for the business and also the person being protected. This is unprofessional too. The non-performer may be in the wrong job and thus not doing what he or she is best at doing. Empathy that results in protection would lead to a negative result for the employee as well. He or she might be better off in another job within the group or elsewhere. — Subhash Chandra

But she brooded not only about how to tackle her father, but also about what, precisely, she was setting out to do. Test the fire-repellent properties of her discovery. Toward killing dragons. Did she really want to kill dragons? Yes. Why? Pause. To be doing something. To be doing something better than anyone else was doing it. — Robin McKinley

She's kept her love for him as alive as the summer they first met. In order to do this, she's turned life away. Sometimes she subsists for days on water and air. Being the only known complex life-form to do this, she should have a species named after her. Once Uncle Julian told me how the sculptor and painter Alberto Giacometti said that sometimes just to paint a head you have to give up the whole figure. To paint a leaf, you have to sacrifice the whole landscape. It might seem like you're limiting yourself at first, but after a while you realize that having a quarter-of-an-inch of something you have a better chance of holding on to a certain feeling of the universe than if you pretended to be doing the whole sky.
My mother did not choose a leaf or a head. She chose my father. And to hold on to a certain feeling, she sacrificed the world. — Nicole Krauss

Even a really bad ordinary argument, where feelings were hurt, would be so much better than this permanent sense of dread. She could feel it everywhere: in her stomach, her chest, even her mouth had a horrible taste to it. What was it doing to her health? — Liane Moriarty

I had an uneventful few days," it told her. "The most exciting thing was an hour-long lecture from the headmaster on taking our studies seriously. He said next year's exam will arrive sooner than we think."
"No, they won't," Valkyrie said, frowning. "They'll arrive next year, exactly when we expect them."
"That's what I told him," the reflection nodded. "I don't think he's comfortable with logic, because he didn't look happy. He sent me to the Career Guidance counsellor, who asked me what I wanted to do after college."
Valkyrie stowed her black clothes. "What did you say?"
"I told her I wanted to be a Career Guidance counsellor. She started crying, then accused me of mocking her. I told her if she wasn't happy in her job then she should look at other options, then pointed out that I was already doing her job better than she was. She gave me detention. — Derek Landy

What are you doing here? said Azalea, grasping in the
basket behind her for the butter knife. Her hand found a
teaspoon. It was better than nothing — Heather Dixon

Then she leaned slightly into him and said gently, "I don't think you should be left be. I think you're dealing with something heavy, you're obviously doing it alone." She threw a mitten-covered hand out to indicate the area, "You need to unload it, Chace."
Christ.
Fuck.
Christ.
That voice, quiet, gentle, so fucking sweet saying his name, her eyes soft on him.
Fuck.
Better than he could have imagined.
Better than he ever could have dreamed.
And not his.
Never to be his.
Which meant finally hearing her say his name was torture. — Kristen Ashley

Jessica, I know I've been ... difficult," he said. "All the same - "
"Difficult?" She looked up, her grey eyes wide, "You have been impossible. I begin to think you are not right in the upper storey. I knew you wanted me. The only thing I've never doubted was that. But getting you into bed - you, the greatest whoremonger in Christendom - gad, it was worse than the time I had to drag Bertie to the tooth-drawer. And if you think I mean to be doing that the rest of our days, you had better think again. The next time, my lord, you will do the seducing - or there won't be any, I vow. — Loretta Chase

Look - you upset Cho when you said you were going to meet me, so she tried to make you jealous. It was her way of trying to find out how much you liked her." "Is that what she was doing?" said Harry as Ron dropped onto the bench opposite them and pulled every dish within reach toward himself. "Well, wouldn't it have been easier if she'd just asked me whether I liked her better than you?" "Girls don't often ask questions like that," said Hermione. — J.K. Rowling

She clears her throat and does her best to start, laying out the technical specs of last year's party: who was there; what they were doing; why they came with this or that person. I guess she wants me to have a full and realistic picture. Some people need that, I suppose. Personally, I'm the type who likes to fill in the blanks and make it my own. It's probably better that way than it really was. — Kendare Blake

But then she remembered something else, just a flash: looking up at Damon's face in the woods and feeling such - such excitement, such affinity with him. As if he understood the flame that burned inside her as nobody else ever could. As if together they could do anything they liked, conquer the world or destroy it; as if they were better than anyone else who had ever lived.
I was out of my mind, irrational, she told herself, but that little flash of memory wouldn't go away.
And then she remembered something else: how Damon had acted later that night, how he'd kept her safe, even been gentle with her.
Stefan was looking at her, and his expression had changed from belligerence to bitter anger and fear. Part of her wanted to reassure him completely, to throw her arms around him and tell him that she was his and always would be and that nothing else mattered. Not the town, not Damon, not anything.
But she wasn't doing it. — L.J.Smith

When it comes to the way you present yourself online, the acid test is: Can you imagine Grace Kelly doing it? If you can picture her saying "Dem hos betta watch out imma beat some ass tonite", then congratulations, you have a much better imagination than mine. Likewise, if you can't quite see her posting a snapshot of herself drunkenly pole-dancing, think twice about broadcasting those pictures to the world. — Rosie Blythe

He had a harder time helping her out though. He was asleep while she was doing stars. Without wings, he couldn't reach anyways. In the end though what he could give her was better than magic wands and magic frogs and magic lamps. Better and more magical. What he gave her was moral support and unconditional love. He promised to be there for her always, even times when the sky proved too vast and the night was dark because she couldn't kindle all the stars. He would light her way instead, he promised. He would be her Polaris, her celestial navigator, her astral guide. And whenever she cam back to Earth, Grumwald promised, he would be there, waiting. — Laurie Frankel

It's a risk I'm willing to take. This happens once in a lifetime. You meet someone and have this crazy reaction ... you touch her skin and it's the best skin you've ever felt, and no perfume on earth could be better than her smell, and you know you could never be bored with her because she's interesting even when she's doing nothing. Even without knowing everything about her, you get her. You know who she is, and it works for you on every level. — Lisa Kleypas