Two seeds destined to grow in concert, planted together in the field of love.’” She took in a lungful of air and continued. “‘The sky cast wet buckets of dreams and desires, the roots took shape, and the leaves tangled as one.
Each of us is the real star. We all are so close but still so far i this sky called ground. We all shine, though the light the others see is the one that our actions left in the past.
Truth has nothing to do with words. Truth can be likened to the bright moon in the sky. Words, in this case, can be likened to a finger. The finger can point to the moon’s location. However, the finger is not the moon. To look at the moon, it is ne...
Panic bells, it's red alert There's something here From somewhere else The war machine springs to life Opens up one eager eye Focusing it on the sky Where 99 red balloons go by
I've read that a naked eye can see six thousand stars in the hundred billion galaxies, but I couldn't believe it, what with the sky white with starlight. I saw a million stars with one eye and two million with both.
The postgrad at least knew enough to know that he would never know enough, lying under the stars which hung from the inky sky like bunches of inconceivably heavy, lustrous grapes, dusted with the yeast of eternity.
Everybody has a soul." I turn to Pelly. "And that means you, too." "I'm not so sure of that," he says. "What does it feel like?" "Having a soul?" I look at Maxine, but she only shrugs. "I don't know," I tell Pelly. "I don't have anything to compare i...
Because . . . most of us think that the point is something to do with work, or kids, or family, or whatever. But you don't have any of that. There's nothing between you and despair, and you don't seem a very desperate person.' 'Too stupid.' 'You're n...
Roy Walker: And she turned from the masked bandit and she said... Nurse Evelyn: [in the story, as Sister Evelyn] May I be frank with you? Blue Bandit: Of course. Nurse Evelyn: Although I've dedicated my life to God and His goodness, I secretly love t...
Geppetto: Oh, Pinocchio! How did you get down here? Pinocchio: I fell down. Geppetto: Oh, you did... Oh! You are talking! Pinocchio: Uh-huh. Geppetto: No! No. no, no! Pinocchio: Yes, and I can move too. Geppetto: No, no, you can't! I'm dreaming in my...
Coccotti: You know who I am, Mr. Worley? Clifford Worley: I give up. Who are you? Coccotti: I'm the Anti-Christ. You got me in a vendetta kind of mood. You tell the angels in heaven you never seen evil so singularly personified as you did in the face...
Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds? Paul Varjak: The mean reds, you mean like the blues? Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The ...
A cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering.
Knights die in battle,” Catelyn reminded her. Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. “As ladies die in childbed. No one sings songs about them.
Everything around her was in a fog; the intense light that always shone in his aqua blue eyes was the only thing in focus, but it was suddenly unknown... different... almost embarrassing.
Accelerated Rehabilitation had a scientific sound, as if Pierre would rehabilitate faster and faster in an elliptical path until evaporating in a blue flash of pure mental health.
...and I shut off my anxious heart and my nervous head as dusk descended into another night, another meaningless merging, another attempt to find myself as I gave myself away.
I will be so glad for you to hear not the sounds of gunfire but the sounds of church bells, and of people working in peace.
If you will let it, this Blue Willow platter can represent my promise to fill your life with my trust and love and a houseful of children. - Peter Andersen
The blue river is grey at morning and evening. There is twilight at dawn and dusk. I lie in the dark wondering if this quiet in me now is a beginning or an end.
Anarchy is like custard cooking over a flame; it has to be constantly stirred or it sticks and gets heavy, like government.
