Nhi Phan

“As the steamer continued the crossing, Pandora tugged off her left glove to admirer wedding ring, as she'd already done a dozen times that day. Gabriel had chosen a loose sapphire from the collection of Challon family jewels, and had it set in a gold and diamond ring mounting. The Ceylon sapphire, cut and polished into a smooth dome, was a rare stone that gleamed with a twelve-ray star instead of six. To his satisfaction, Pandora seemed inordinately pleased by the ring, and was fascinated by the way the star seemed to move across the surface of the sapphire. The effect, called asterism, was especially noticeable in the sunlight.
"What causes the star?" Pandora asked, as she tilted her hand this way and that.
Gabriel tucked a kiss behind the soft lobe of her ear. "A few tiny imperfections," he murmured, "that make it all the more beautiful.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Spring

“Martin was more than happy to let Spencer take over the conversation, for it finally granted him an opportunity to observe Mrs. Wheaton- who had just achieved the impossible. She had made him laugh. Truly, she was one of a kind. She always had been, he supposed, recalling again that day at the train station.
While the polite conversation continued all around him, he allowed his gaze to meander downward and was pleased to admire the alluring feminine curves "Miss Foster" had developed over the past decade, including a lush, generous bosom, which would fare quite nicely in a lighter gown with a lower neckline, he thought. Dressed as she was at present, she reminded him of a pleasure yacht with her sails trimmed too tight, rendering her incapable of moving freely at the speed she was built for.
He wondered suddenly how this aloof young widow would respond to a little wind in her sails and a skillful skipper like himself at her helm. Would he be able to bring the best out of her, like he did with the Orpheus?
Yes, he thought with absolute confidence while he admired the grace of her gloved hand as she touched one finger to the corner of her mouth to dab at an errant drop of tea. He certainly could bring the best out of her, and also bring out that spark she kept hidden from the world. A marvelous, masculine satisfaction flowed through him at the thought of it.”
― Julianne MacLean, Surrender to a Scoundrel

“She dances,
She dances around the burning flames with passion,
Under the same dull stars,
Under the same hell with crimson embers crashing,
Under the same silver chains that wires,
All her beauty and who she is inside,
She's left with the loneliness of human existence,
She's left questioning how she's survived,
She's left with this awakening of brutal resilience,
Her true beauty that she denies,
As much she's like to deny it,
As much as it continues to shine,
That she doesn't even have to admit,
Because we all know it's true,
Her glory and success,
After all she's been through,
Her triumph and madness,
AND YET,
SHE STANDS.

Broken legs- but she's still standing,
Still dancing in this void,
You must wonder how she's still dancing,
You must wonder how she's not destroyed,
She doesn't even begin to drown within the flames,
But little do you realize,
Within these chains,
She weeps and she cries,
But she still goes on,
And just you thought you could stop her?
You thought you'd be the one?
Well, let me tell you, because you thought wrong.
Nothing will ever silence her,
Because I KNOW,
I know that she is admiringly strong,
Her undeniable beauty,
The triumph of her song,
She's shining bright like a ruby,
Reflecting in the golden sand,
She's shining brighter like no other,
She's far more than human or man,
AND YET,
SHE STANDS.

She continues to dance with free-spirit,
Even though she's locked in these chains,
Though she never desired to change it,
Even throughout the agonizing pain,
Throughout all the distress,
Anxiety, depression, tears and sorrow,
She still dances so beautify in her dress,
She looks forward to tomorrow,
Not because of a fresh start but a new page,
A new day full of opportunities,
Despite being trapped in her cage,
She still smiles after being beaten so brutally,
A smile that could brighten anyone's day,
She's so much more than anyone could ask for,
She's so much more than I could ever say,
She's a girl absolutely everyone should adore,
She never gets in the way,
Even after her hearts been broken,
Even after the way she has been treated,
After all these severe emotions,
After all all the blood she's bled,
AND YET,
SHE STANDS.

Even if sometimes she wonders why she's still here,
She wonders why she's not dead,
But there's this one thing that had been here throughout every tear,
Throughout the blazing fire leaving her cheeks cherry red,
Everyday this thing has given her a place to exist,
This thing, person, these people,
Like warm sunlight it had so softly kissed,
The apples of her cheeks,
Even when she's feeling feeble,
Always there at her worst and at her best
Because of you and all the other people,
She has this thing deep inside her chest,
That she will cherish forever,
Even once you're gone,
Because today she smiles like no other,
Even when the sun sets at dawn,
Because today is the day,
She just wants you to remember,
In dark and stormy weather,
It gets better.
And after what she's been through she knows,
Throughout the highs and the lows,
Because of you and all others,
After crossing the seas,
She has come to understand,
You have formed this key,
This key to free her from this land,
This endless gorge that swallowed her,
Her and other men,
She had never knew, nor had she planned,
That because of you,
She's free.
AND YET,
THIS VERY DAY,
SHE DANCES.
EVEN IN THE RAIN.”
― Gabrielle Renee

“Patience outfits faith, guides peace, assists love, equips humility, waits for penitence, seals confession, keeps the flesh in check, preserves the spirit, bridles the tongue, restrains the hands, tramples temptation underfoot, removes what causes us to stumble, brings martyrdom to perfection; it lightens the care of the poor, teaches moderation to the rich, lifts the burdens of the sick, delights the believer, welcomes the unbeliever, commends the servant to his master and his master to God, adorns women and gives grace to men; patience is loved in children, praised in youth, admired in the elderly. It is beautiful in either sex and at every age of life.... Her countenance is tranquil and peaceful, her brow serene.... Patience sits on the throne of the most gentle and peaceful Spirit.... For where God is there is his progeny, patience. When God's Spirit descends patience is always at his side.3o”
― Robert L. Wilken, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought: Seeking the Face of God