Richelle Mead Quotes

Man, you don't know how I felt that afternoon when I heard that voice and it was my own voice.

Wait a minute man, who do you think I am? He answered, Mr. Springsteen.

A man is, after all, what he loves. But one always feels cornered when asked to explain why one loves this or that person, and what for. In order to explain it - which inevitably amounts to explaining oneself - one has to try to love the object of one's attention a little bit less.

Spirituality is not a formula; it is not a test. It is a relationship. Spirituality is not about competency; it is about intimacy. Spirituality is not about perfection; it is about connection. The way of the spiritual life begins where we are now in the mess of our lives.

I have a lot of people in my life, and I think there's something key: the thing that leads to intimacy and relationship and connection is tenderness.

I've got a bulletin for you, folks. I am no superman. I realize that now, but I didn't always.

Humble people ask for help.

Intimacy is healing.

A really big thing I've learned - and I think it's so liberating - is when you realize no one knows what they're doing.

With my fan base, I'm just vulnerable. I'm very transparent and vulnerable.

I see myself as having this innate weakness that a lot of times will get confused with kindness, but I know that it's often more weakness than kindness.

Embrace your vulnerability and celebrate your flaws; it will let you appreciate the world around you and make you more compassionate.

I've always felt like I had a personal relationship with fans. I'm not afraid to be emotional or vulnerable or humble.

I pinch myself daily.

Sometimes you watch yourself, and you think, 'Oh, wow.'

And maybe it is only by finding yourself that you can feel the true intensity of becoming close to another person.

I sank down onto the bed against the headboard and leaned back. I crossed my legs underneath me. "Then we'll talk." I said with a smile. Rush sat down onto the bed and leaned back against the wall. A deep chuckle came from his chest and I watched as a real smile broke out on his face. "I can't believe I just begged a female to sit and talk to me." In all honesty, I couldn't either.

She praised his book and he embraced her from gratitude rather than lust, but she didn't let go. Neither did he. She kissed his cheek, his earlobe. For months they'd run their fingers around the hem of their affection without once acknowledging the fabric. The circumference of the world tightened to what their arms encompassed. She sat on the desk, between the columns of read and unread manuscript, and pulled him toward her by his index fingers.

Remember when i slept with my head in a puddle at your feet? It was humility, or atonement. later your ankle was a pillow and finally you pulled me up and in my sleep i placed your hand above my heart, like i forgot i didn't live there anymore

We're all looking for love, in our confusion, until we find our way back to the realization that love is what we already are.

Well, it's true that you often kind of forget to see the person you're most intimate with, but occasionally I'll come to and sort of think, 'Oh my God! You're really, really good-looking! I'm embarrassed now! It's nice to occasionally have that flash.

Wait a minute! This is grass! We've been eating grass!

To mature is in part to realize that while complete intimacy and omniscience and power cannot be had, self-transcendence, growth, and closeness to others are nevertheless within one's reach.

Absolute nakedness was intrusive, confusing to the senses. Paradoxically, it both revealed and diminished identity.

You know me better than you think, you know, and you shall know me better yet.