Llandrindon joined in the discussion. "I believe what Mardling is asking," he said, "is how one will be able to tell the difference between a shopgirl and a well-to-do woman if they are both clean and similarly dressed. And if a gentleman is not able to tell what they are by their appearance, how is he to know how to treat them?"Stunned by the snobbery of the question, Matthew considered his reply carefully. "I've always thought all women should be treated with respect no matter what their station.""Well said," Westcliff said gruffly, as Llandrindon opened his mouth to argue.No one wished to contradict the earl, but Mardling pressed, "Westcliff, do you see nothing harmful in encouraging the poor to rise above their stations? In allowing them to pretend there is no difference between them and ourselves?""The only harm I see," Westcliff said quietly, "is in discouraging people who want to better themselves, out of fear that we will lose our perceived superiority."The statement caused Matthew to like the earl even more than he had previously.

Reading is a sage way to bump up against life. Reading may be an escape, but it is not an escape from my own life and problems.  It is an escape from the narrow boundaries of being only me. Reading in some wonderful ways helps me find out who I am. When she was a young girl Patricia MacLachlan's mother encouraged her to "read a book and find out who you are." And it is true that in some ways reading defines me as it refines me. Reading enlarges my vision of the world; it helps me understand someone who is different from me. It makes me bigger on the inside. We tend to see the world from our own perspective; it is good to see it from the eyes of others. Good literature helps me understand who I am in relation to what others experience. Far from being an escape from reality, good literature is a window into reality. I read to feel life.

Philosophy is a bitter medicine with many fearsome side effects, but if you are able to stomach it, it can cure your soul of the many ills and infirmities of ignorance. Given the choice, most men prefer not to take it, and many of those who do soon find that they cannot carry on with it. In the end, they choose what is more pleasant over what is more wholesome, and prefer the society of those who encourage them in their follies to that of those who admonish and improve them. You, on the other hand, appear to be minded otherwise, for when a young men sets for himself the highest standards of education and conduct, he naturally shuns the company of mindless nobodies and boldly seeks out that of the singular men who are prepared to teach him and challenge him and exhort him to virtue. In time, by his strivings, he will come to realize that it is from the hardest toil and noblest deeds that the purest and most persisting pleasures are to be had, and, taking pity on other men, and thinking also of the gods, he will do everything in his power to share this precious secret.

Pastors enter congregations vocationally in order to embrace the totality of human life in Jesus' name. We are convinced there is no detail, however unpromising, in people's lives in which Christ may not work his will. Pastors agree to stay with the people in their communities week in and week out, year in and year out, to proclaim and guide, encourage and instruct as God work his purposes (gloriously, it will eventually turn out) in the meandering and disturbingly inconstant lives of our congregations.This necessarily means taking seriously, and in faith, the dull routines, the empty boredom, and the unattractive responsibilities that make up much of most people's lives. It means witnessing to the transcendent in the fog and rain. It means living hopefully among people who from time to time get flickering glimpses of the Glory but then live through stretches, sometimes long ones, of unaccountable grayness. Most pastor work takes place in obscurity: deciphering grace in the shadows, searching out meaning in a difficult text, blowing on the embers of a hard-used life. This is hard work and not conspicuously glamorous.

I think I know what will help you chill.”The way his eyes devoured me hinted I shouldn’t take the bait, but I did anyhow. “And what would that be?”Noah pressed his body into mine, pushing me against the lockers. “Kissing.”I held my books close to my chest and fought the urge to drop them and pull him close. But that would only encourage his behavior, and good God, bring on his fantastic kissing. Fantastic or not, kissing in public would definitely mean detention and a tardy slip.I ducked underneath his arm and breathed in fresh air, welcoming any scent that didn’t remind me of him. Noah caught up to me, slowing his pace to mine.“You know, you may have never noticed, but we have calculus together,” he said. “You could have waited for me.”“And give you the chance to drag me into the janitor’s closet?

Her body didn’t give a damn that he was all wrong for her, it wanted him anyway. Badly. Either oblivious of or not wanting to encourage the attraction between them, Wade looked down at his mug as though he wasn’t comfortable holding her gaze at such close range, and took a sip. As he swallowed, one side of his mouth curved up and he let out an appreciative groan that seemed to reverberate right through her, heating her blood. Startled, she drank in the almost dreamy expression on his angular face and imagined that same look right after he’d enjoyed an intensely satisfying orgasm. Erin couldn’t be positive, but if his reaction to a simple cup of coffee made him groan like that, she was pretty sure it had been a while since he’d had one of those, too. And man, the idea of being the one to end his dry spell was way too freaking hot for her own good.

Vexis listened, then shook her head, her eyes full of sorrow. ‘YOU are the fool! You cannot rob people of their beliefs and expect them to just accept it. Even now, I mourn the death of Avanti every day. Even though I now know she was never real. The idea of Avanti was real. Serving Avanti gave me a purpose, I felt she was guiding and encouraging me. Now I have nothing, I am reduced to simply “making it up as I go along”. I hate you Brael. I will never forgive you for what you did.’Brael took a deep breath. ‘You were always making it up as you went along. You just didn’t know it. People need to take responsibility for their actions. There is one person guiding me, and that is me. I will live as long as I can and I will try to leave this world a better place for my presence. That is enough purpose for all.

Dearly beloved...The president’s daughter and Cameron Roberts faced each other, hands lightly clasped, eyes locked.I, Blair Allison Powell, take you, Cameron Reed Roberts, to be my friend, my lover, the mother of my children, and my wife. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in times of sickness and in times of health, in times of joy and in times of sorrow, in times of failure and in times of triumph. I promise to cherish and respect you, to care for and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and to stay with you, for all eternity.A willowy blonde stepped to Blair’s side, and Blair lifted a gleaming gold band from her palm. She lifted Cam’s left hand and slid the ring securely on her third nger. With this ring, I thee wed.Cameron Roberts’s gaze never wavered from Blair’s face, her voice ringing strong and clear. I, Cameron Reed Roberts, take you, Blair Allison Powell, to be my friend, my lover, the mother of my children, and my wife. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in times of sickness and in times of health, in times of joy and in times of sorrow, in times of failure and in times of triumph. I promise to cherish and respect you, to care for and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and to stay with you, for all eternity.Roberts accepted the matching ring from a young dark-haired woman who leaned on a plain wood cane, and slipped it onto Blair’s nger. With this ring, I thee wed.An anticipatory breath shuddered through the crowd. Six uniformed of cers, the Guard of Honor, stepped in sync to form a path from the proceedings area, facing one another in a line, white-gloved hands on shining saber hilts.By the power vested in me by the United States Army, the President of the United States, and the Commonwealth of...The three male and three female of cers drew their swords with a slick of steel, their blades raised and touching to form the Arch of Sabers....I pronounce you wed.The couple kissed, the crowd clapped...

My brave husband came back from fighting the Turks and brought me a robe of silk and a necklace of human teeth. He sat up at night by his hearth telling tales of battle. Apparently the Turks are ten times more ferocious and fearless than the Scots. 'Perhaps we should invite them here to drive the Scots back,' I suggested, and he laughed, but he didn't kiss me. That's when I learned the truth about scars. A man with a battle scar is a veteran, a hero, given an honoured place at the fire. Small boys gaze up fascinated, dreaming of winning such badges of courage. Maids caress his thighs with their buttocks as they bend over to mull his ale. Women cluck and cosset, and if in time other men grow a little weary of that tale of honour, then they call for his cup to be filled again and again until he is fuddled and dozes quietly in the warmth of the embers. But a scarred woman is not encouraged to tell her story. Boys jeer and mothers cross themselves. Pregnant women will not come close for fear that if they look upon such a sight, the infant in their belly will be marked. You've heard of the tales of Beauty and the Beast no doubt. How a fair maid falls in love with a monster and sees the beauty of his soul beneath the hideous visage. But you've never heard the tale of the handsome man falling for the monstrous woman and finding joy in her love, because it doesn't happen, not even in fairytales. The truth is that the scarred woman's husband buys her a good thick veil and enquires about nunneries for the good of her health. He spends his days with his falcons and his nights instructing pageboys in their duties. For if nothing else, the wars taught him how to be a diligent master to such pretty lads.

There’s nothing wrong with victims of any kind of abuse; they are perfectly normal. It is the ones that abuse others, who are not normal. It is they who have twisted minds and need to be corrected or counselled. Unfortunately people look down upon the abused victims as if they’ve done something wrong and make them feel ashamed as well as guilty- which is not fair and absolutely incorrect. Victims must be shown kindness, encouraged and rehabilitated at the earliest and those who abused them must be ostracized. If you have been the victim of any kind of abuse, take down those walls of guilt, don’t hide behind dark doors, face the light and take charge of your life. Seek support- if required. You must understand that you have done nothing wrong and must not feel guilty or have low self esteem of yourself; it is the one who has abused you who should be running for cover. All you need at this point of time is love, self love and lots of self confidence. Believe in yourself and have faith in your ability to bounce back.