She's Finally Happy Quotes & Sayings

She stared at him for a long while, not speaking, not moving. Finally she said, "You want the truth, I'll tell you. But the information will cost you. We' Il trade. A question for a question."
"Done. What do you have that Cronus wants?"
"I have a ... a ... damn it, Lucien. I have a key, okay.
Happy now?"
"Yes. There. We have both now answered one question."
"We both have no - Damn you! I did ask a question, didn't I? Happy now? Score one for you. — Gena Showalter

You were her friend?" he asked. "You liked her?" I told him Ella was the best friend I ever had. He paused again, and I feared he would say she died. But he finally answered that he believed her to be well and married to a rich gentleman. He added, " She is happy, I think, She is rich, so she is happy." Without thinking, I blurted, "Ella doesn't care about riches." Then I realized I'd contradicted a prince! " How do you know?" he said. I answered, "At school everyone hated me because I wasn't wealthy and because I spoke with an accent. She was the only one who was kind." "Perhaps she's changed," he said. " I don't think so, your Highness. — Gail Carson Levine

I don't know how long we stand there holding each other. It could be ten minutes, an hour, or a day. All I know is that when I finally let go, I can breathe. I can rest. I can live knowing that my baby girl is happy. Knowing that she felt my love. — Cassia Leo

That isn't how I see it, Amber. That isn't how I see it at all. It's just my life, and now that I have finally discovered what I must have to be happy, I'm willing to lay down my life for it. That's all.'
She smiled. 'That is all. You are right. And that is all that All ever is. — Robin Hobb

It now transpired that the man in front of her didn't actually have a ticket at all, and the argument then began to range freely and angrily over such topics as the physical appearance of the airline check-in girl, her qualities as a person, theories about her ancestors, speculations as to what surprises the future might have in store for her and the airline for which she worked, and finally lit by chance on the happy subject of the man's credit card. He didn't have one. — Douglas Adams

Mama stared at me not with sadness, but with pleading. She was thinner than I'd ever allowed myself to notice, looking more like a child than a woman. I wanted to believe she knew what was best for me. I wanted to believe she was like every other mother and that she loved me more than I loved her. I hoped, if I followed her wishes, I would finally make her happy. — Ami McKay

I'm not leaving."

"I want you out of the city, and now. If the chalet doesn't suit you, go where you like. But you will go."

"I have no intention of going anywhere."

"Fuck it. You're fired."

"Very well. I will remove my belongings and book a hotel until -- "

"Oh, shut up. Both of you shut the hell up." She fisted her hands in her hair, yanked fiercely. "Just my luck, you finally say the words I've been waiting over a year to hear and I can't do my happy dance. You expect him to put his tail between his skinny legs and hide?" she demanded of Roarke. "You think when you're in the middle of this kind of mess he's just going to bop over to Switzerland and yodel, or whatever the hell they do there? — J.D. Robb

Sue had been told that tumors had developed in her liver and lungs. She had been in a deep depression for a while, but she finally followed Barb's advice to call me after various people at her church kept saying that she could be happy - she was going home to be with Jesus. This is the type of thing that gives Christians a bad name. This, and the Inquisition. Sue wanted to open fire on them all. I think I encouraged this.
Some of her evangelical friends had insisted sorrowfully that her nieces wouldn't get into heaven, since they were Jews, as was one of her sisters. I told her what I believe to be true - that there was not one chance in a million that the nieces wouldn't go to heaven, and if I was wrong, who would even want to go? I promised that if there was any problem, she and I would refuse to go. We'd organize.
"What kind of shitty heaven would that be, anyway?" she asked. — Anne Lamott

But she was the only woman
the only one in the entire world
Terrible loved ... If she lost that, she'd lose what made her special. She'd be happy, yes. She'd find some other man eventually, probably, and maybe he'd be good enough. She'd look different, act different. Be different. She would never again feel that, though, the feeling of being the most special woman in the entire world, of knowing no one else could possibly be as happy as she was because they honestly didn't know how lucky they were, how truly and amazingly lucky. Because they didn't feel like they'd been lost their entire lives and they'd finally found home. — Stacia Kane

Still, for sixteen years I saw the way he passed the butter dish across the dining room table to her, as if he wished it could be more, as if he wished she could life the lid and precious gems would spill over her dinner, as if that might finally make her happy- an inedible, improvident gift, like easy, unexpected laughter. — Laura Kasischke

I don't wish to marry, ever. I like men quite well- at least the ones I've been acquainted with- but I shouldn't like to have to obey a husband and serve his needs. It wouldn't make me at all happy to have a dozen children, and stay at home knitting while he goes out romping with his friends. I would rather be independent."
The room was silent. Lady Berwick's expression did not change, nor did she blink even once as she stared at Pandora. It seemed as if a soundless battle were being waged between the authoritative older woman and the rebellious girl.
Finally Lady Berwick said, "You must have read Tolstoy."
Pandora blinked, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected comment. "I have," she admitted, looking mystified. "How did you know?"
"No young woman wants to marry after reading Tolstoy. That is why I never allowed either of my daughters to read Russian novels. — Lisa Kleypas

Where they differ is in temper. Izzy has no control over hers. When the anger switch flips in her tiny little brain, no one can turn it off. She is focused to a fault, her tantrums often triggered by the fear of her sightless world. Morgan sighs. She is ready to be released. She quiets easily and quickly. She is a gentle giant, not a fighter. She bites only to defend herself. If her intent were to eliminate her assailant, it would happen in one quick snap of her jaw. She cannot understand why this monster was brought into our peaceful home. We were a happy family until Izzy appeared. She is the Anti-Christ. She is pure evil. Our home has become a salient battleground with opponents always vigilant, wary of the other, waiting for the first sign of war. Finally, — Barbara Boswell Brunner

When the finally pulled apart, Rishi's mouth tingling still, Dimple smiled shyly and looked down at their hands, entwined between them on the bench. "So," she said softly. "That was unexpected."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, like it was the most natural thing to do. Was this going to be their thing now, casual kissing? He hoped so. "Unexpected but awesome." Rishi paused. "Right?"

She laughed and looked up at him. "Definitely."

He grinned, his heart soaked in happy. — Sandhya Menon

Good luck! I'll keep my cell phone on in case you need me to bail you out of jail later."

"You're a good friend, Chloe," I tell her, freeing my ponytail from under my coat.

"Not really." She shakes her head, smiling. "I'm secretly just happy I'm finally getting a crack at the Pringles," she says, shaking the can. "You don't share when you're sulking. — Jana Aston

Alcenith Crawford (a divorced ophthalmologist): We women doctors have un-happy marriages because in our minds we are the superstars of our families. Having survived the hardship of medical school we expect to reap our rewards at home. We had to assert ourselves against all odds and when we finally graduate there are few shrinking violets amongst us. It takes a special man to be able to cope. Men like to feel important and be the undisputed head of the family. A man does not enjoy waiting for his wife while she performs life-saving operations. He expects her and their children to revolve around his needs, not the other way. But we have become accustomed to giving orders in hospitals and having them obeyed. Once home, it's difficult to adjust. Moreover, we often earn more than our husbands. It takes a generous and exceptional man to forgive all that. — Adeline Yen Mah

Hey, Ivashkov! Open up. " Avery argued. She kept pounding on the door and yelling, and finally, Adrian answered. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He'd drunk twice as much as Lissa last night.
"What ... ?" He blinked. "Shouldn't you guys be in class? Oh God. I didn't sleep that much, did I? "
"Let us in, " said Avery, pushing past. "We've got refugees from a fire here. " She flounced onto his couch, making herself at home while he continued staring. Lissa and Christian joined her.
"Avery sprang the fire alarm, " explained Lissa.
"Nice work, " said Adrian, collapsing into a fluffy chair. "But why'd you have to come here? Is this the only place that's not burning down? "
Avery batted her eyelashes at him. "Aren't you happy to see us? " He eyed her speculatively for a moment.
"Always happy to see you. — Richelle Mead

Too often she had seen the first indignation of disappointed parents at the marriage of the their children harden into a matter of pride, a matter of doggedness and principle, and finally become ridiculous. If the marriages turned out happy, how absurd to persist in an antiquated disapproval; if they turned out wretched, then how urgent the special need for love. — Elizabeth Von Arnim

Please put your shirt on," she said.
He pulled it over his head, checking the buttons. "Better?"
She looked exhausted, and happy, and too bighearted to believe. So why did he still feel anguished? He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap.
"Hey!" She laughed, hugging an arm around him.
He snuggled his nose in her hair and kissed her neck. Mine, he thought.
"They'll see," she muttered.
They'd better. "Let them. It's legal."
She laughed again and quickly kissed him. Finally. — Caragh M. O'Brien

What I love about Gaga is her story, where she came from. Before she made it, before anyone knew who she was, I knew who she was and, to see her finally make it, I was so happy. If we were to work together that would be cool. — Janet Jackson

Her eyes burned, her muscles ached, but in some strange and secret place, she was happy to finally be doing something that wasn't just protecting herself, but protecting other people, too. — Rachel Caine

Her hands shot up. "See that's exactly what I'm saying. You're seeing what you want, and what you see you explain away and excuse things like you're fixing me. I'm not perfect, Ephraim and I really wish you would see that."
"You drool."
"What?" That caught her off guard.
"When you're asleep you drool. I've woken up more than a few times with a little puddle forming on my chest." After a thought he added. "And you snore. Not a delicate snore either mind you."
"I do not!" Her face colored with indignation.
He sighed heavily as if the knowledge pained him. "Oh, but you do. I've even heard Jill talk about it. Did you know that's the main reason she was happy about her room. Actually, she and Joshua thanked your Grandmother for putting you at the other end of the house, something about finally getting a decent night's sleep. They compared your snore to a chainsaw. I can see why they'd say that. — R.L. Mathewson

I think she did really try her hardest to get over him. You would, wouldn't you, if someone had hurt you like that? You'd make all kinds of promises to yourself not to let them do something like that again. But wouldn't a small part of you always be wondering "what if" Wouldn't some part of you - a part that you might not want to exist - still be holding out for that happy ending? It's how we're built isn't it? No matter how many times you get slapped in the face you have to believe that the next time would be different. And then in comes the guy who hurt you all those years ago, and he wants to make things better and to prove he's not all talk- this time it will be different. How could she not fall for that? How could she not think that if she chose him it would finally lift the shadow that he'd cast over her life? All that hurt, all that suffering wouldn't have been for nothing then, would it? If he'd come back to you like that, would you have taken him back? — Mike Gayle

Before Amy and I got serious, got engaged, got married, I would get glimpses of Go's thoughts in a sentence here or there. It's funny, I can't quite get a bead on her, like who she really is. And: You just seem kind of not yourself with her. And: There's a difference between really loving someone and loving the idea of her. And finally: The important thing is she makes you really happy. Back — Gillian Flynn

It's true that my mom loved it when I played Joanie Cunningham in the musical 'Happy Days,' but I think she finally realized I am never going to do 'Oklahoma!' — Christine Lakin

She struggled. She became uncomfortable. She longed for more freedom and began to sense that the world she inhabited was not where she ultimately belonged. She did not know what was on the other side of her struggle, but she was getting ready to experience something new and wonderful that in her wildest imaginings could not be described. Darrel ... she was getting ready to breathe. "And when she finally drew that first breath, it was clean and fresh and like nothing she had ever felt. She took another breath and another - and all around her, loved ones and friends cheered in a joyous celebration of her arrival." Jones looked closely at the woman's face. "Look at her now, Darrel," he said. "For many years this dear child was happy and content in — Andy Andrews

Deborah did not seem quite as impressed as I was. She trailed along behind Matthews with a wicked scowl on her face, shoving at any reporter foolish enough to get in her way, and generally acting like she had just been indicted for waterboarding. I followed the happy little group through the crowd until Matthews reached the front door, where Mr. and Mrs. Aldovar were waiting to smother their wayward daughter with hugs and kisses and tears. It was an extremely touching scene, and Captain Matthews played it perfectly, as if he had been rehearsing for months. He stood beside the family group and beamed at them as the parents snuffled and Samantha scowled and finally, when he could sense that the reporters were reaching the end of their attention span, he stepped in front of them and held up a hand. Just — Jeff Lindsay

They waited awhile before lighting the candles; the gloom allowed the past to slip cozily into the present. But the memories were of a time that was gone and didn't overshadow the present. But the memories were vivid, and they made the freinds feel both young and old ... When Chrsitanne finally lit the candles and they saw one another clearly again, she was happy to see in the old faces of the others the young faces they had come across in their memories. we store our youth wihtin us, we can go back to it and find ourselves in it, but it is past
melancholy filled their hearsts, and sympahty, for one another and for themsleves. — The Weekend

Next morning I finally arrived at the place. The two sisters had already left for work, but the landlady of the pension admitted me into their room. I fell asleep with exhaustion. By late afternoon, when they arrived, they were more shocked than elated about my presence. They took me within an hour to a coffee house, on Lipscani Street, where many Czernowitzers congregated. Sure enough, I met Jancu, the uncle of my former student Vera. He immediately took me with my belongings, to his family, to his parents. They were the warmest, friendliest people imaginable. Vera's mother was happy, because now, she thought, Vera would pass the grade, with my help. — Pearl Fichman

I always choose to remember the moment that was the best of Jeanne Cooper - those photos where she's in that wild dress triumphantly hoisting up the Emmy the night she finally won the damn thing. She was so proud, so happy. — Corbin Bernsen

[Referring to passage by Alice Munro] Finally, the passage contradicts a form of bad advice often given young writers
namely, that the job of the author is to show, not tell. Needless to say, many great novelists combine "dramatic" showing with long sections of the flat-out authorial narration that is, I guess, what is meant by telling. And the warning against telling leads to a confusion that causes novice writers to think that everything should be acted out
don't tell us a character is happy, show us how she screams "yay" and jumps up and down for joy
when in fact the responsibility of showing should be assumed by the energetic and specific use of language. — Francine Prose

Which is your bad shoulder?"
His brows knit together. "The left," he said carefully.
She slugged him in the right.
He staggered. Steadied himself. Grinned. "Is that like some weird Wyoming mating ritual thing I should know about?"
"Damn you," she cried, flying into his arms. Finally. "Damn you, damn you, damn you!"
He wrapped his arms around her, held her tight. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was such a coward. — Cindy Gerard

I found something for you." He ignored the pangs of hunger and lowered himself to one knee before her. Her eyes widened. He swung his hand around from behind his back and held out a lone orchid the same shade as the moon overhead. And once again, he wished he knew what to say, how to talk to her, how to be more sophisticated. Instead, he thrust it before her. She tentatively took it from him and lifted questioning eyes. "For your collection of specimens," he offered. Her fingers caressed the drooping petals. "I think it's a yellow lady's slipper." He didn't know nor did he care. He only knew that he wanted one of her rare smiles. For a long intense moment, he held his breath. Finally her lips curved into a smile. "Thank you." His pulse jolted forward and he swallowed hard. "You're welcome." What was happening to him? Why did he want to make her happy? When she lifted the flower to her nose and took a deep breath, her smile moved to her eyes . . . And to his heart. — Jody Hedlund

I love you too, and I don't want anybody else either." Cupping his cheek, she added, "You're enough for me."
That seemed to make sense to Griffin, and he finally smiled like he was happy.
"You're enough for me too."
Grabbing his hand, Anna started backing toward her room. "Good, then come be enough for me right now. I'm horny as hell."
Griffin rushed up to her, grabbing her backside. "God, me too," he murmured
before their mouths met. — S.C. Stephens

I arrived in Dallas two days before the party and planned on leaving the day after. I hated the city as much as I thought I would. All anyone could talk about were the Cowboys and their chances in the playoffs. Charlene was happy. Joe was not, or so it seemed to me, in spite of the fact that he had finally gotten exactly what he thought he wanted from a wife: she gave him an adorable boy, she did everything in their home including laundry, and most important, she did not embarrass him. Whenever I was alone with Joe during the two days I was there, Charlene would send her son into the room with us. The first time I carried him, Charlene made sure to mention how surprised she was that I had motherly instincts. She probably used the pronoun we more in one day than I have in my whole life. I did not blame her. Most plain women stake their claims clumsily. — Rabih Alameddine

Trying to attract another underserved audience group - females - brought Super Princess Peach, a game where Peach finally avoids being princess-napped. Bowser kidnaps Mario and Luigi instead, and it's up to her for once to save them. The second-wave feminism lasts as long as it takes Peach to acquire a magical talking parasol. Peach's powers manifest through her emotional states. When she is calm she can heal herself, when she is happy she can fly, when glum she can water plants with her tears, and when angry she literally catches on fire. Using emotions as part of basic game play is a daring concept, and feel free to sub in "insulting" or "outrageous" or "awesome" for "daring." The concept might have been taken more seriously if not for touches like the pink umbrella, and Peach having unlimited lives - core gamers hate being unable to die. — Jeff Ryan