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You've always asked me to wait, as if we had time in abundance. but time is too precious, perry. we've wasted years, when we could have been with each other. don't you understand how much even one day of loving each other is worth? some people are separated by distances they can never cross. all they can do is dream about each other for a lifetime, never having what they want most. how foolish, how wasteful to have love within your reach and not take it!" she clamped her teeth on her trembling bottom lip to steady herself
-Lisa Kleypas
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You've Always Asked Me To Wait, As

Lisa Kleypas
You've always asked me to wait, as if we had time in abundance. but time is too precious, perry. we've wasted years, when we could have been with each other. don't you understand how much even one day of loving each other is worth? some people are separated by distances they can never cross. all they can do is dream about each other for a lifetime, never having what they want most. how foolish, how wasteful to have love within your reach and not take it!" she clamped her teeth on her trembling bottom lip to steady herself
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Dream Distance Loving Life

More From Lisa Kleypas

So she had to satisfy herself with the idea of love - loving the loving of things whose existence she didn't care at all about. love itself became the object of her love. she loved herself in love, she loved loving love, as love loves loving, and was able, in that way, to reconcile herself with a world that fell so short of what she would have hoped for. it was not the world that was the great and saving lie, but her willingness to make it beautiful and fair, to live a once-removed life, in a world once-removed from the one in which everyone else seemed to exist.
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She had taken to wondering lately, during these swift-counted years, what had been done with all those wasted summer days; how could she have spent them so wantonly? i am foolish, she told herself early every summer, i am very foolish; i am grown up now and know the values of things. nothing is ever really wasted, she believed sensibly, even one's childhood, and then each year, one summer morning, the warm wind would come down the city street where she walked and she would be touched with the little cold thought: i have let more time go by.
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In the cross is salvation; in the cross is life; in the cross is protection against our enemies; in the cross is infusion of heavenly sweetness; in the cross is strength of mind; in the cross is joy of spirit; in the cross is excellence of virtue; in the cross is perfection of holiness. there is no salvation of soul, nor hope of eternal life, save in the cross.
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She didn’t understand why it was happening,” he said. “i had to tell her she would die. her social worker said i had to tell her. i had to tell her she would die, so i told her she was going to heaven. she asked if i would be there, and i said that i would not, not yet. but eventually, she said, and i promised that yes, of course, very soon. and i told her that in the meantime we had great family up there that would take care of her. and she asked me when i would be there, and i told her soon. twenty-two years ago.
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She smiled. she knew she was dying. but it did not matter any longer. she had known something which no human words could ever tell and she knew it now. she had been awaiting it and she felt it, as if it had been, as if she had lived it. life had been, if only because she had known it could be, and she felt it now as a hymn without sound, deep under the little whole that dripped red drops into the snow, deeper than that from which the red drops came. a moment or an eternity- did it matter? life, undefeated, existed and could exist. she smiled, her last smile, to so much that had been possible.
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Perhaps i will die too, she told herself, and the thought did not seem so terrible to her. if she flung herself from the window, she could put an end to her suffering, and in the years to come the singers would write songs of her grief. her body would lie on the stones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who had betrayed her. sansa went so far as to cross the bedchamber and throw open the shutters ... but then her courage left her, and she ran back to her bed, sobbing.
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