John Grisham

love yourself,.,.,.,for the sake of your better future

Life is short..Live to the fullest..

In life, finding a voice is speaking and living the truth. Each of you is an original. Each of you has a distinctive voice. When you find it, your story will be told. You will be heard.

Okay, let__ pretend to be friends. Just two friends having dinner._ __hat doesn__ work in the South. A male friend cannot have dinner with a female friend if the male friend has a wife. It just doesn__ work down here._ __hy not?_ __ecause men don__ have female friends. No way. I don__ know of a single man in the entire South who is married and has a female friend. I think it goes back to the Civil War._ __ think it goes back to the Dark Ages. Why are Southern women so jealous?_ __ecause that__ the way we__e trained them. They learned from us. If my wife met a male friend for lunch or dinner, I__ tear his head off and file for divorce. She learned it from me._ __hat makes absolutely no sense._ __f course it doesn__._ __our wife has no male friends?_ __one that I know of. If you learn of any, let me know._ __nd you have no female friends?_ __hy would I want female friends? They can__ talk about football, or duck hunting, or politics, or lawsuits, or anything that I want to talk about. They talk about kids, clothes, recipes, coupons, furniture, stuff I know nothing about. No, I don__ have any female friends. Don__ want any._ __hat__ what I love about the South. The people are so tolerant._ __hank you.

life is too short to despise people who simply can't help what they've done.

That's sounds right. Another $5,000 went to dress up the Little League park where he had played so many games. Seems like he paid off the MORTAGE on his parents' home, which wasn't that much.

After eight days in the sun of the Virgin Islands her skin was brown enough and her hair was returning to its natural colour. She walked miles up and down the beaches and ate nothing except fish and fruit. She slept a lot the first few days.She looked at her wrist and then remembered that her watch was in a bag somewhere. She didn't need it here. She woke with the sun and went to bed after dark. But now she was waiting, so she had looked at her wrist.It was almost dark when the taxi stopped at the end of the small road. He got out, paid the driver and looked at the lights as the car disappeared back up the road. He had one bag. He could see a light from the house between the trees at the edge of the beach, and he walked towards it. He didn't know what to expect. He knew how he felt about her, but did she feel the same?She was waiting at the back of the house, looking out to sea, with a drink in her hand. She smiled at him, put down her drink and let him come to her.They kissed for a long minute. 'You're late,' she said.

We cuss them because we're not good enough for them. We hate them because they wouldn't look at us, couldn't be bothered to give us an interview. I guess there's a Trent & Brent in every city, in every field. I didn't make it and I don't belong, so I'll just go through life hating them.

Some people have more guts than brains.

There are few things in life worse than a long-winded lawyer.

Four rehabs meant a fifth was somewhere down the road.

The president had shifted to the 'we' mode now, something he invariably did when a potentially unpopular decision was at hand. For the easy ones, it was always 'I.' When he needed a crutch, and especially when he would need someone to blame, he opened up the decisionmaking process and included Critz.

The theory was simple: If a man had enough sense to accumulate a bunch of cash, then he would certainly make a worthy U.S senator.

A sharp bolt of hunger hit Luther hard. His knees almost buckled, his poker face almost grimaced. For two weeks now his sense of smell had been much keener, no doubt a side effect of a strict diet. Maybe he got a whiff of Mabel's finest, he wasn't sure, but a craving came over him. Suddenly, he had to have something to eat. Suddenly, he wanted to snatch the bag from Kendall, rip open a package, and start gnawing on a fruitcake.

Life on the run was filled with dreams, some at night during sleep, real dreams, and some when the mind was awake but drifting. Most were terrifying, the nightmares of the shadows growing bolder and larger. Others were pleasant wishes of a rosy future, free of the past. These were rare, Patrick had learned. Life on the run was life in the past. There was no closure

He'd had his career, his triumphs. Success had brought him nothing but misery; he couldn't handle it. Success had thrown him in the gutter

I'm not in favor of the death penalty. But I'm in favor of locking these people away in maximum security units where they can never get out. They can never escape. They can never be paroled. Lock the bad ones away. But you gotta rethink everybody else.

When witnesses concoct lies, they often miss the obvious.