Every Day Quotes Week 46
Title: Every Day Quotes
Rating: K
Nov 18
Pride is the chief cause in the decline in the number of husbands and wives.
Neil Diamond (1941 - ), Husbands and Wives
Jennifer Shepard did not even glance up from her work when her door flew open and crashed against the wall beside it, while someone stormed into her office.
One of these days, he would learn to stop making such dramatic entrances. And then she would panic and think he’d received a head injury.
Still, a girl could dream.
Refusing to look up from her email to SecNav, she blinked furiously when he dropped a newspaper onto her keyboard. Stay calm, stay calm, don’t imagine impaling him on a stiletto…
Too late.
“Agent Gibbs,” she greeted him as calmly as she could. “How can I help you?”
“Page twelve,” he informed her.
Glancing up at his impassive face, she decided she could ask questions later. She opened the newspaper to the correct page and immediately knew which article had aroused his attention. “Senator Lewis took me to the Marine Birthday Ball last week,” she noted. “And you came all the way up here to show me a photograph from it.”
“You dating him, Jen?”
The nub of the problem. “That would be none of your business,” she replied, in her best Director voice.
“He’s a slimeball,” he told her, in the same tone someone else would impart national secrets.
She began to smirk. “Are you questioning someone I may or may not be dating?” she inquired. “Because I think your track record with marriage should preclude you from this conversation.”
His brow furrowed at ‘preclude’.
Jenny sighed. “It would be like you giving Abby advice on tattoos. Pointless. And laughable.”
“Hey, I have a tattoo!” he protested.
“And I’m going to pretend I don’t know where it is,” she countered, removing her reading glasses and rubbing her nose. It was too early to have this discussion. Too early and she hadn’t had nearly enough coffee, chocolate and alcohol. “Stay out of my personal life.”
As he stalked out of her office, she remembered to call after him, “And don’t try to get it out of Ziva!”
~*~*~*~
Nov 19
Lady you bereft me of all words,
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins,
And there is such confusion in my powers.
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Timothy McGee was head over heels in love with Abby.
He had been for a long time, ever since the dissolution of their previous relationship. They had fallen apart because they were both too stubborn and set in their ways, refusing to admit they were in love and thus souring their time together. He was too young and inexperienced, and Abby was too afraid to feel trapped in a relationship.
But that hadn’t changed his feelings towards her. He still loved her from the bottom of his heart. She was still the first person he thought about in the morning and the last at night. He would still do anything for her.
If she wasn’t willing to be with him, he would settle for being friends. He went out of his way to make her smile and laugh, he made sure she was happy and he bought her little sweet gifts. He observed her from afar, wanting to protect her.
Perhaps she still loved him too. He hadn’t failed to notice her jealousy whenever another woman entered his life, and he wanted to laugh. Didn’t she know his heart was still hers?
He was supposed to be an author, supposed to be good with words, but he didn’t know how to tell her how he felt. Never mind her reaction, he simply wanted to be able to express his feelings for her clearly. Maybe one day he would finally work out how to do so.
~*~*~*~
Nov 20
Of all the creatures that were made, man is the most detestable. Of the entire brood he is the only one--the solitary one--that possesses malice. That is the basest of all instincts, passions, vices--the most hateful. He is the only creature that has pain for sport, knowing it to be pain. Also--in all the list he is the only creature that has a nasty mind.
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910), Mark Twain's Autobiography
Ziva David knew people could be exceptionally cruel to each other.
It was a position unique among animals, she felt. She could think of no other who attacked their own kind simply for the sake of it. While animals squabbled over food, water and mates, humans were prepared to fight for so-called ‘honor’, envy, malice, a perceived difference between two groups, and for political points of view. Did people really not have better reasons to inflict pain?
She herself had killed and watched her friends die. She had experienced pain so badly she had wanted to cease to exist. But a cause, a just and honorable cause, had always been at the heart of it. Protecting her country. Protecting the people who lived in her country from people who wanted them all dead. Protecting her friends.
The ability to be evil seemed to be in every person. It was a stain on every human conscience, one that most people managed to control. Some people forgave the perceived crimes of others, and in doing so removed the hate from their hearts. Others found a different, more constructive channel for it. But a few, a very small few, allowed the evil to take over them.
They were the noisiest. They screamed and shouted so the whole world noticed them. They were seen to be representatives of everyone.
But Ziva knew most people were inclined towards the good. They wanted an easy life, a simple life with no pain and happiness for all. Perhaps it was time for them to find their voices and drown the other side out with all the love they carried within their hearts.
~*~*~*~
Nov 21
When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.
Franklin D. Roosevelt (1882 - 1945), quoted Kansas City Star, June 5, 1977
Jennifer Shepard groaned as her cell phone went off. She had just fallen asleep after a long hard day…
“Shepard,” she mumbled.
“Hell-oo.”
It took a few moments for her brain to catch up. “Jethro?” She rolled over in the bed, wrapping herself more tightly in the bedsheets. “I should have recognized the heavy breathing.”
The silence built between them as Jenny began to doze off again. But she couldn’t quite fall asleep with him on the line.
“What do you want?” she whispered.
“Need to show you something,” came the reply.
“Now?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m at Ziva’s apartment,” she informed him, silently sighing. “Can it wait?”
“Go to the window.”
With a sinking feeling, she forced herself out of bed. As she had feared, he was standing under a streetlamp on the other side of the road. “Great.”
“Get out here,” he told her. “Don’t wake anyone up.”
“Jethro!” she protested. “Ziva’s sleeping on the couch!”
“So?” She could see his smirk from up here.
“How am I supposed to sneak past a sleeping Mossad ninja? If I wake her up, she’ll throw a knife at my heart.”
“You’re in a bedroom, Jen.”
She paused for a moment. “If you think for one moment that I’m making a rope out of bedsheets…”
He chuckled. “Whatever happened to adventure?”
Staring at him one last time, she shook her head and moved towards the bed. “You’d better be ready to break my fall,” she warned, but a soft smile was beginning to play on her lips.
~*~*~*~
Nov 22
Pride is the recognition of the fact that you are your own highest value and, like all of man’s values, it has to be earned.
Ayn Rand (1905 - 1982), Atlas Shrugged
Tony DiNozzo was very aware of the masks he wore every day. There was his ‘clown’ one, his ‘frat boy’ one, not to mention ‘cop’, ‘Senior Field Agent’ and ‘Casanova’. He had other masks, far too many to count, but those were his favorites.
Pretty much all of them were full of pride, perhaps bordering on arrogance as Ziva happily informed him. He showed pride in his appearance, in his skills as an agent, in his way with women and in his general self. He could puff up with pride faster than a peacock. To the world, he showed a man who believed in himself, who believed he was amazing and the most valuable person around.
Except he didn’t believe it himself. The masks hid his true self, the one that was broken. He didn’t believe in himself at all, knew he was useless and had no idea why other people couldn’t see that. Every day, he woke up and put his masks on to conceal himself from others.
It was very rare that he felt true pride in himself. When he played an instrumental part in catching a criminal. When he started dating the next beautiful woman. And late at night in the squad room when Gibbs told him in private that he’d done a good job.
~*~*~*~
Nov 23
What power has law where only money rules.
Gaius Petronius (~66 AD)
Timothy McGee smiled sweetly at the barista as she came over to him. He needed to get on her good side.
He was in Tony’s favorite coffee shop, determined to get even after Tony had put superglue on his keyboard, put superglue on the seat of his chair, switched his coffee with Gibbs’ (earning Tim a headslap for breaking Rule Twenty Three), persuaded Ziva that he was responsible for the disappearance of her report on the Brockman case, set fire to his paper inbox, broken his brand new cell phone and informed Cindy in Finance that he was gay.
All in one morning.
Getting even wasn’t an option; it was the only thing stopping him from telling Ziva who had superglued her desk drawers together, which would lead to Tony’s imminent demise.
And while he wouldn’t mind becoming Senior Field Agent, he felt he needed a little more experience first.
“Hey,” he greeted her politely. “Gemma, right?”
She nodded. “How can I help you today?”
“I was wondering if you could do me a favor,” he smiled, sliding a photo of Tony across the counter. “I want to play a joke on my friend. Is there any chance you could switch him to decaf without him realizing?”
She frowned, opening her mouth to turn him down.
Tim put his money on the counter. Gemma began to smile. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised.
~*~*~*~
Nov 24
Life is like a game of cards. The hand that is dealt you is determinism; the way you play it is free will.
Jawaharlal Nehru (1889 - 1964)
The fire crackled in the heath, slowly heating the otherwise chilly room. A grandfather clock ticked its regular time in the corner, marking the passage of time. Somewhere outside in the dark night, a dog howled.
Neither of the men in the room seemed to notice. They were engrossed in the cards they had been dealt. Each slowly considered his options before deciding their next step.
Ducky had been the one to suggest poker. It was perhaps the only card game they both knew how to play. They had been sharing a quiet, relaxing evening together, an evening with good food, good alcohol and great company, before he had suggested a game of cards.
He considered his cards. Jethro was as impossible to read as ever, although over the decades of their friendship he had learnt a few tricks to seeing beneath the surface. The tiny tells in his body language that gave him away when he was relaxed. Jethro had a bad hand.
But then so did he. He knew his friend could read him well and would by now have a good idea of the cards he was holding. The game was going to be interesting.
They looked up from their cards simultaneously and shared a brief smile, before returning to the cards.
Rating: K
Nov 18
Pride is the chief cause in the decline in the number of husbands and wives.
Neil Diamond (1941 - ), Husbands and Wives
Jennifer Shepard did not even glance up from her work when her door flew open and crashed against the wall beside it, while someone stormed into her office.
One of these days, he would learn to stop making such dramatic entrances. And then she would panic and think he’d received a head injury.
Still, a girl could dream.
Refusing to look up from her email to SecNav, she blinked furiously when he dropped a newspaper onto her keyboard. Stay calm, stay calm, don’t imagine impaling him on a stiletto…
Too late.
“Agent Gibbs,” she greeted him as calmly as she could. “How can I help you?”
“Page twelve,” he informed her.
Glancing up at his impassive face, she decided she could ask questions later. She opened the newspaper to the correct page and immediately knew which article had aroused his attention. “Senator Lewis took me to the Marine Birthday Ball last week,” she noted. “And you came all the way up here to show me a photograph from it.”
“You dating him, Jen?”
The nub of the problem. “That would be none of your business,” she replied, in her best Director voice.
“He’s a slimeball,” he told her, in the same tone someone else would impart national secrets.
She began to smirk. “Are you questioning someone I may or may not be dating?” she inquired. “Because I think your track record with marriage should preclude you from this conversation.”
His brow furrowed at ‘preclude’.
Jenny sighed. “It would be like you giving Abby advice on tattoos. Pointless. And laughable.”
“Hey, I have a tattoo!” he protested.
“And I’m going to pretend I don’t know where it is,” she countered, removing her reading glasses and rubbing her nose. It was too early to have this discussion. Too early and she hadn’t had nearly enough coffee, chocolate and alcohol. “Stay out of my personal life.”
As he stalked out of her office, she remembered to call after him, “And don’t try to get it out of Ziva!”
~*~*~*~
Nov 19
Lady you bereft me of all words,
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins,
And there is such confusion in my powers.
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Timothy McGee was head over heels in love with Abby.
He had been for a long time, ever since the dissolution of their previous relationship. They had fallen apart because they were both too stubborn and set in their ways, refusing to admit they were in love and thus souring their time together. He was too young and inexperienced, and Abby was too afraid to feel trapped in a relationship.
But that hadn’t changed his feelings towards her. He still loved her from the bottom of his heart. She was still the first person he thought about in the morning and the last at night. He would still do anything for her.
If she wasn’t willing to be with him, he would settle for being friends. He went out of his way to make her smile and laugh, he made sure she was happy and he bought her little sweet gifts. He observed her from afar, wanting to protect her.
Perhaps she still loved him too. He hadn’t failed to notice her jealousy whenever another woman entered his life, and he wanted to laugh. Didn’t she know his heart was still hers?
He was supposed to be an author, supposed to be good with words, but he didn’t know how to tell her how he felt. Never mind her reaction, he simply wanted to be able to express his feelings for her clearly. Maybe one day he would finally work out how to do so.
~*~*~*~
Nov 20
Of all the creatures that were made, man is the most detestable. Of the entire brood he is the only one--the solitary one--that possesses malice. That is the basest of all instincts, passions, vices--the most hateful. He is the only creature that has pain for sport, knowing it to be pain. Also--in all the list he is the only creature that has a nasty mind.
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910), Mark Twain's Autobiography
Ziva David knew people could be exceptionally cruel to each other.
It was a position unique among animals, she felt. She could think of no other who attacked their own kind simply for the sake of it. While animals squabbled over food, water and mates, humans were prepared to fight for so-called ‘honor’, envy, malice, a perceived difference between two groups, and for political points of view. Did people really not have better reasons to inflict pain?
She herself had killed and watched her friends die. She had experienced pain so badly she had wanted to cease to exist. But a cause, a just and honorable cause, had always been at the heart of it. Protecting her country. Protecting the people who lived in her country from people who wanted them all dead. Protecting her friends.
The ability to be evil seemed to be in every person. It was a stain on every human conscience, one that most people managed to control. Some people forgave the perceived crimes of others, and in doing so removed the hate from their hearts. Others found a different, more constructive channel for it. But a few, a very small few, allowed the evil to take over them.
They were the noisiest. They screamed and shouted so the whole world noticed them. They were seen to be representatives of everyone.
But Ziva knew most people were inclined towards the good. They wanted an easy life, a simple life with no pain and happiness for all. Perhaps it was time for them to find their voices and drown the other side out with all the love they carried within their hearts.
~*~*~*~
Nov 21
When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.
Franklin D. Roosevelt (1882 - 1945), quoted Kansas City Star, June 5, 1977
Jennifer Shepard groaned as her cell phone went off. She had just fallen asleep after a long hard day…
“Shepard,” she mumbled.
“Hell-oo.”
It took a few moments for her brain to catch up. “Jethro?” She rolled over in the bed, wrapping herself more tightly in the bedsheets. “I should have recognized the heavy breathing.”
The silence built between them as Jenny began to doze off again. But she couldn’t quite fall asleep with him on the line.
“What do you want?” she whispered.
“Need to show you something,” came the reply.
“Now?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m at Ziva’s apartment,” she informed him, silently sighing. “Can it wait?”
“Go to the window.”
With a sinking feeling, she forced herself out of bed. As she had feared, he was standing under a streetlamp on the other side of the road. “Great.”
“Get out here,” he told her. “Don’t wake anyone up.”
“Jethro!” she protested. “Ziva’s sleeping on the couch!”
“So?” She could see his smirk from up here.
“How am I supposed to sneak past a sleeping Mossad ninja? If I wake her up, she’ll throw a knife at my heart.”
“You’re in a bedroom, Jen.”
She paused for a moment. “If you think for one moment that I’m making a rope out of bedsheets…”
He chuckled. “Whatever happened to adventure?”
Staring at him one last time, she shook her head and moved towards the bed. “You’d better be ready to break my fall,” she warned, but a soft smile was beginning to play on her lips.
~*~*~*~
Nov 22
Pride is the recognition of the fact that you are your own highest value and, like all of man’s values, it has to be earned.
Ayn Rand (1905 - 1982), Atlas Shrugged
Tony DiNozzo was very aware of the masks he wore every day. There was his ‘clown’ one, his ‘frat boy’ one, not to mention ‘cop’, ‘Senior Field Agent’ and ‘Casanova’. He had other masks, far too many to count, but those were his favorites.
Pretty much all of them were full of pride, perhaps bordering on arrogance as Ziva happily informed him. He showed pride in his appearance, in his skills as an agent, in his way with women and in his general self. He could puff up with pride faster than a peacock. To the world, he showed a man who believed in himself, who believed he was amazing and the most valuable person around.
Except he didn’t believe it himself. The masks hid his true self, the one that was broken. He didn’t believe in himself at all, knew he was useless and had no idea why other people couldn’t see that. Every day, he woke up and put his masks on to conceal himself from others.
It was very rare that he felt true pride in himself. When he played an instrumental part in catching a criminal. When he started dating the next beautiful woman. And late at night in the squad room when Gibbs told him in private that he’d done a good job.
~*~*~*~
Nov 23
What power has law where only money rules.
Gaius Petronius (~66 AD)
Timothy McGee smiled sweetly at the barista as she came over to him. He needed to get on her good side.
He was in Tony’s favorite coffee shop, determined to get even after Tony had put superglue on his keyboard, put superglue on the seat of his chair, switched his coffee with Gibbs’ (earning Tim a headslap for breaking Rule Twenty Three), persuaded Ziva that he was responsible for the disappearance of her report on the Brockman case, set fire to his paper inbox, broken his brand new cell phone and informed Cindy in Finance that he was gay.
All in one morning.
Getting even wasn’t an option; it was the only thing stopping him from telling Ziva who had superglued her desk drawers together, which would lead to Tony’s imminent demise.
And while he wouldn’t mind becoming Senior Field Agent, he felt he needed a little more experience first.
“Hey,” he greeted her politely. “Gemma, right?”
She nodded. “How can I help you today?”
“I was wondering if you could do me a favor,” he smiled, sliding a photo of Tony across the counter. “I want to play a joke on my friend. Is there any chance you could switch him to decaf without him realizing?”
She frowned, opening her mouth to turn him down.
Tim put his money on the counter. Gemma began to smile. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised.
~*~*~*~
Nov 24
Life is like a game of cards. The hand that is dealt you is determinism; the way you play it is free will.
Jawaharlal Nehru (1889 - 1964)
The fire crackled in the heath, slowly heating the otherwise chilly room. A grandfather clock ticked its regular time in the corner, marking the passage of time. Somewhere outside in the dark night, a dog howled.
Neither of the men in the room seemed to notice. They were engrossed in the cards they had been dealt. Each slowly considered his options before deciding their next step.
Ducky had been the one to suggest poker. It was perhaps the only card game they both knew how to play. They had been sharing a quiet, relaxing evening together, an evening with good food, good alcohol and great company, before he had suggested a game of cards.
He considered his cards. Jethro was as impossible to read as ever, although over the decades of their friendship he had learnt a few tricks to seeing beneath the surface. The tiny tells in his body language that gave him away when he was relaxed. Jethro had a bad hand.
But then so did he. He knew his friend could read him well and would by now have a good idea of the cards he was holding. The game was going to be interesting.
They looked up from their cards simultaneously and shared a brief smile, before returning to the cards.