Anyone who takes the time to attentively listen is either an old soul or a romantic one.

— Richelle E. Goodrich

Anyone who takes the time to be kind is beaut

— Richelle E. Goodrich

Anyone who takes the time to listen is either an old soul or a romantic one.

— Richelle E. Goodrich

A pang of guilt, like a blaring siren, should never be ignored.

— Richelle E. Goodrich

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but those well-arranged words are worth a multi-million-dollar motion picture.

— Richelle E. Goodrich

A poet is simply an artist whose medium is human emotions.  A poet chisels away at our own sensibilities, shaping our vision while molding our hearts.  A poet wraps words around our own feelings and presents them as fresh gifts to humanity.

— Richelle E. Goodrich

A princess once carefully kissed a porcupine to be kind, upon which he began to think himself a prince. He then dressed like a prince, behaved like a prince, and announced himself to be a prince. The world, therefore, saw him as such, and so a porcupine prince he was. (Of course, most were reluctant to argue with him otherwise.)

— Richelle E. Goodrich

A pumpkin lives but once a year when someone sets its soul afire and on that night it stirs up fear until its flame is snuffed. But e'en one night of eerie light is fright enough.

— Richelle E. Goodrich

A real treasure becomes such only after it's been desperately sought after.

— Richelle E. Goodrich

Are you ready to go home, Catherine?” he asked. “It’s warm inside the house. I kept a fire going for you.” I continued looking at him, unsure how to respond. “Thanks,” I managed to say and then glanced in the direction of his house—our house. “Well, you are my wife. And I know you don’t like the cold.” I’m his wife, I thought to myself. He had said the words as if that simple fact made it necessary to be both thoughtful and kind. As if having gained a wife or husband meant having also gained her or his concerns, and hence the need to consider the person’s needs, wants, and preferences as strongly as one’s own. It struck me as a perfect description of what marriage ought to be. An agreeable notion that had not entered into my petty way of viewing matrimony. I would have assumed it to be above Thaddeus’ egotistical mindset as well.“Catherine?” he said again, watching me regard him with a quizzical expression. “Are you ready to go home?” I nodded, which made him smile.

— Richelle E. Goodrich