A sheet spread beneath an apple-tree can receive only apples; a sheet spread beneath the stars can receive only star-dust.
[last lines] Underminer: Behold, the Underminer! I'm always beneath you, but nothing is beneath me! I hereby declare war on peace and happiness! Soon, all will tremble before me!
Insanity does NOT run in my family. It strolls through, takes its time, and gets to know everyone personally. —T-SHIRT
When life hands you lemons say, "Lemons? What else have you got?" - bumper sticker
Just like a butterfly, I had sprung from my cocoon for the first time. For my risk, I was rewarded with Jacob Bennett." - Laylla Jonson (Beneath the Blossom Tree)
Who but my mother held those small pieces of my childhood? Where would they go when she was gone?
Beneath the face of anyone you ever loved for true - anyone you love, you will always love, love is not at the mercy of time and it does not recognize death, they are strangers to each other - beneath the face of the beloved, however ancient, ruined,...
A breeze blew softly, slightly rippling the water as it carried the heady scents of late Carolina springtime through the air. Honeysuckle. Jasmine. Ripe, pungent river mud. Ah, the world felt right.
The people were gone, and the years had demolished all traces—but it did not really matter to Kira, who stared steely eyed into the darkness. She had seen far lovelier things fade away.
Perhaps memory is a thing that everyone involved has to work at, like stitching up a big quilt out of everything that ever happened to you.
This is what comes of having a heart, even a very small and young one. It causes no end of trouble, and that’s the truth.
I strike the ground with the soles of my feet and life rises up my legs, spreads up my skeleton, takes possession of me, drives away distress and sweetens my memory. The world trembles.
If I was an eccentric old spinster in a Merchant Ivory movie, I'd want to share my lovely cottage with Holly and that's the truth. I'd do the cooking and leave the decorating to her, and we'd be inseparable.
[after a hail of gunfire doesn't stop V] Creedy: Die! Die! Why won't you die?... Why won't you die? V: Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof.
At some point along the winding, honeysuckle-lined road of their lives, the love of a child had transformed into the love of a young woman, and the two loves had both been so natural and pure that she hadn’t noticed the difference.
...you can’t plan out or perfectly schedule the big moments in your life. They just happen to you when they happen, sometimes because you made them happen and sometimes because you couldn’t stop them from happening.
I allowed myself the supernatural, the transcendent, because, I told myself, our love of metaphor is pre-religious, born of our need to express what is inexpressible, our dreams of otherness, of more.
Children are natural practitioners of the Queer and the Questing, for childhood is nothing but a quest through a queer country. Of course, they often have a good deal of trouble with the Quiet.
But I shall choose to remember you, and it would be nice if it went both ways. That’s how it generally goes in my country.” September thought.
She must protect herself. There would be no one to do it for her. A plan started to prick up its ears inside her, slowly, but getting stronger.
She was so delicate that, while we sat beneath the linden branches, a leaf would fall and drift down and touch her skin, and it would leave a bruise. So as we sat in the afternoon hour, beneath that fragrant linden bower, I had to chase all of the le...
