Tis strange,-but true; for truth is always strange; Stranger than fiction: if it could be told, How much would novels gain by the exchange! How differently the world would men behold!
Love is never worthless. Never believe that your love makes no difference. Even if you can’t see its impact, the impact is there, if only in the way that it affects your own soul.
The difference between where you are now and where you will get to later defines your range of work which you have to be responsible for.
Because we are no different from any animal, any insect or germule. We are not , Cal. You, me, we all came from nothing, and that's exactly where we're all going one day, maybe soon, whether we like it or not.
I want to feel like I'm making a difference in this world. And I want some time for living rather than just working. Life is for living, isn't it? It can't be all just for working
When their eyes connected she tilted her head slightly…paused, and smiled. It was as if she needed to see him at a different angle to insure that her instant desire wasn’t a vanishing mirage
Surrealism, then, neither aims to subvert realism, as does the fantastic, nor does it try to transcend it. It looks for different means by which to explore reality itself.
This was too much for him to handle. It was like watching memories of his life play out from a different camera angle, sometimes with new scenes added. He was living DVD extras.
Most of the time, it felt like my father and I were completely different species. Possibly literally, depending on the day and whether or not I actually qualified as human at the time.
The beauty of the human soul Is not the pretty face. It’s found within the heart and hands Of those who look — and stay.
Because the human experience involves loss, we need to feel it, express it, and then release it. Only then do we achieve healing.
A hanging, though, was something different. I got to thinking. We hadn’t never been to nothing just to have a good time. A hanging was special and we was all getting to go.
The world always seems like it's going to hell when you're depressed. And, of course, it always is going to hell in some way. That's what makes it so hard to tell the difference between Armageddon and the blues.
Who am I really? Am I still the same person if I'm not even technically a person anymore? Does being stronger make me different? Will it?
Never make fun of people who are different...unless they have more money, power and influence. Then you must.
Well, it's really no use our talking in the way we have been doing if the words we use mean something different to each of us...and nothing.
What did that say about me? Had I become one of the monsters I thought I was fighting? “Things didn’t have to be like this,” I commented. “He could’ve made different choices.
You never know how the little things you do can make a big difference in someone's life.
Name the different kinds of people,’ said Miss Lupescu. ‘Now.’ Bod thought for a moment. ‘The living,’ he said. ‘Er. The dead.’ He stopped. Then, ‘... Cats?’ he offered, uncertainly.
I wonder what's the difference between ordinary councillors and privy councillors?" wondered the merchant aloud. The assassin scowled at him. "I think," he said, "it is because you're expected to eat shit.
The mother is the most essential piece on the board, the one you must protect. Only she has the range. Only she can move in multiple directions. Once she's gone, it's a whole different game.
