I remembered the old doctor, - "It would be interesting for science to watch the mental changes of individuals, on the spot." I felt I was becoming scientifically interesting.
You guys are so... dark. Even if I used flash, I'm not sure it would come out." "Y-yeah," Percy managed. "You guys aren't photogenic.
My dark secret is I’ve always wished I was Gatsby. As heartbroken as he was and as horrible a fate as he endured, I admired that he loved. It’s a difficult thing to do.
The future was something I had resolutely ignored. If didn't put my full attention to the day at hand, I was afraid that the impenetrable dark on the horizon would engulf me
If I die," he whispered in the dark, "dinna follow me. The bairns will need ye. Stay for them. I can wait.
Choosing to be an artist . . . is choosing to mine deep caverns. It's like getting lost in the darkness and spending the rest of your life trying to find your way.
Seventeen moons, seventeen years, Eyes where Dark or Light appears, Gold for yes and green for no, Seventeen the last to know.
He knew, perhaps better than anyone, that we don't get to choose what is true. We only get to choose what we do about it.
What's the problem?" "You. All shirtless and stuff. My dragon won't let me fight you." Oh, God. It was so embarrassing even admitting it.
High school sucked. It was a universal truth, and whoever said these were supposed to be the best years of your life was probably drunk or delusional.
Stairway to Hell or Yellow Brick Road? Why don't you give your Magic 8 Ball a shake and see if it's ready to play again.
The stars look like they're so close, you could reach out and touch them. But you can't. Sometimes things look a lot closer than they are.
Whoso meditates on the Omniscient, the Ancient, more minute than the atom, yet the Ruler and Upholder of all, Unimaginable, Brilliant like the Sun, beyond the reach of darkness.
They inched through dense, heart-stopping darkness. In the distance was what looked like a bright white door cut out of a black wall. Sunni tiptoed towards it, puzzled by its brilliance.
Terry recalled far better days when she'd risen bright and early every morning.... Days before darkness had closed in and refused to leave....
I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn't see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.
Somehow, grief had seemed easier to bear when the skies were dark and a cold wind kept cats and prey inside their nests.
He switched off the light, came back and sat in the chair. In the darkness, Liesel kept her eyes open. She was watching the words.
Slice a pear and you will find that its flesh is incandescent white. It glows with inner light. Those who carry a knife and a pear are never afraid of the dark.
I began writing at the age of 5, but there was a dark period between the ages of 8 and 16 when I didn't write. I started again at 16 and have no idea why, but it was suddenly the only thing I wanted to do.
Most fears are basic: fear of the dark, fear of going down in the basement, fear of weird sounds, fear that somebody is waiting for you in your closet. Those kinds of things stay with you no matter what age.
