About Amy Harmon: Amy Harmon is an American journalist. She won a Pulitzer Prize as a correspondent for The New York Times covering the impact of science and technology on everyday life.
Caring about someone doesn't mean taking care of them.
Love songs or poetry? Ambrose: Love songs–you get the best of both, poetry set to music. And you can't dance to poetry.
He tried to soften his mouth against hers, tried to tell her he was sorry, but she stayed frozen in his arms, as if she couldn't believe, after everything that had happened, that he thought he could break her heart and take a kiss too.
True beauty, the kind that doesn't fade or wash off, takes time. It takes incredible endurance. It is the slow drip that creates the stalactite, the shaking of the Earth that creates mountains, the constant pounding of the waves that breaks up the ro...
I don't think we get answers to every question. We don't get all the whys. But I think when we look back to the end of our lives, if we do the best we can, and we will see that the things we begged God to take from us, the things we cursed him for, t...
Everybody is a main character to someone...
I've been in love with you since you helped me bury that spider in my garden, and you sang with me like we were singing “Amazing Grace” instead of “The Itsy, Bitsy Spider.” I've loved you since you quoted Hamlet like you understood him, since...
La vera bellezza, quel tipo di bellezza che non scompare, che non viene lavata via richiede sempre tempo. Esige costanza e resistenza.E’ la goccia che scivola lenta a formare la stalattite, il tremore costante della terra a creare le montagne, lo s...
Shakespeare said, 'the robbed that smiles steals something from the thief.
making the most of every second, because seconds became minute sand minutes became precious when life could be taken in less than a breath.
I didn’t know if his art was helping. But Moses’s pictures were like that, glorious and terrible. Glorious because they brought memory to life, terrible for the same reason. Time softens memories, sanding down the rough edges of death. But Moses�...
My brain is already scrambled enough.”“Cracked,” I said, not thinking. “Yeah.” Moses scowled. “Well, it’s working for you.” I turned and looked at my walls. “Cracks and all. In fact, if your brain wasn’t cracked, none of the brill...
There are laws. There are rules. And when you break them, there are consequences. Laws of nature and laws of life. Laws of love and laws of death.
I wondered how he'd learned to push the words away, to drown them, to not feel them pounding against his head and his heart, begging to be spoken.
Oh Josie," Samuel sighed gently. "Your heart is too tender for your own good." "I don't usually cry like this, Samuel. Geez, it's been years since I've cried like this. Since you've been back I can't seem to stop. It's like a cloud has burst inside m...
What softened your heart?" I asked softly. "Good music and a friend." I felt my eyes burn a little and turned from him, blinking quickly to lap up the sting of tears. "Music has incredible power" "So does friendship," he supplied frankly.
This place is in my heart, but it can't be my home, not now, maybe not ever..." - Samuel Yates
